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#it's about the intimacy and the stakes
veganhamsalad · 2 months
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Amnesty please I have a sad backstory
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ms-demeanor · 3 months
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Wait, so you said that you can learn to trust others by building friendships, but how does one go about doing that? Wouldn't someone I don't know be creeped out or annoyed if I suddenly walked up and started talking to them?
Friendships are built of repeated low-stakes interactions and returned bids for attention with slowly increasing intimacy over time.
It takes a long time to make friends as an adult. People will probably think you're weird if you just walk up and start talking to them as though you are already their friend (people think it's weird when I do this, I try not to do this) but people won't think it's weird if you're someone they've seen a few times who says "hey" and then gradually has more conversations (consisting of more words) with them.
I cheat at forming adult friendships by joining groups where people meet regularly. If you're part of a radio club that meets once a week and you just join up to talk about radios, eventually those will be your radio friends.
If there's a hiking meetup near you and you go regularly, you will eventually have hiking friends.
Deeper friendships are formed with people from those kinds of groups when you do things with them outside of the context of the original interaction; if you go camping with your radio friend, that person is probably more friend than acquaintance. If you go to the movies with a hiking friend who likes the same horror movies as you do, that is deepening the friendship.
In, like 2011 Large Bastard decided he wanted more friends to do stuff with so he started a local radio meetup. These people started as strangers who shared an interest. Now they are people who give each other rides after surgery and help each other move and have started businesses together and have gone on many radio-based camping trips and have worked on each other's cars.
Finding a meetup or starting a meetup is genuinely the cheat-code for making friends.
This is also how making friendships at schools works - you're around a group of people very regularly and eventually you get to know them better and you start figuring out who you get along with and you start spending more time with those people.
If you want to do this in the most fast and dramatic way possible, join a band.
In 2020 I wrote something of a primer on how to turn low-stakes interactions with neighbors and acquaintances into more meaningful relationships; check the notes of this post over the next couple days, I'll dig up the link and share it in a reblog.
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satorena · 4 days
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❛ # MÉNAGE À TROIS ! ❜
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ᡣ𐭩 featuring. g. satoru x reader x g. suguru
☆ warnings. explicit content. foul language. thrēēsome (mmf). getting caught in the act. ceo!satoru and secretary!reader make a comeback. jealous gojo. ceo!suguru but he’s a pervert. crēāmpie. fīngerīng. oral (f+m). backshots. afab!reader. feminine descriptions used.
ᡣ𐭩 serena's note. can be read as a stand-alone but it’s basically a continuing to unprofessionalism !
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“are you—mmph, insane?!” you’re hoping your words are convincing enough to draw him back to his senses, despite them jumbling out your mouth and right into his. pressed up against the door of the empty bathroom, your legs are spread apart in favour to be supported by a strong thigh. big hands slide from your lower back to your ass, and squeeze, forcing a moan out of you. “we’re in public— we’ll get caught!”
when gojo does give you space to breathe, a thin string of saliva connects from his bottom lip to yours. he pants heavily, lips shaded a hue of cherry red as the corner of his mouth tugs into a sadistic smile, “yeah but don’t that make it more excitin’ though?”
you blink at him, the thought having already crossed your mind. you weren’t in any position to oppose as you’d even gone commando to a formal business dinner all due to your perverted boss’ orders. but a lot would be at stake here— you both could lose your jobs if caught, and you’d most likely be labelled a whore for the rest of your career. naturally, that was the last thing you wanted, and yet—
“quit overthinkin’ sweets,” you’re pulled out of your train of thought when his bulge grinds against your core. you gasp, eye lids fluttering shut as a rush of heat spreads in your gut. you feel his hands grip your waist and drag your hips forward, angling your body at a perfect position enough to force a whine out of you.
he leans forward to seal his lips with yours yet again, and you foolishly kiss him back. gojo pulls away too quickly for your liking, though his lips trail from the corner of your mouth to trail hot kisses at your jaw, to the slope of your neck. “promise we’ll be quick, don’t worry ‘bout it.”
“b-but,” you stammer, head thrown back against the cold surface of the door as your fingernails claw to the fabric of his expensive blazer. you try to recollect your thoughts, perfectly aware of how risky this entire situation could be. you do not get wetter because of the idea of getting caught—no way, you’d rather blame it on the stimulation of your clit rubbing against muscly thighs. “i could lose my job! or worse, we could lose our jobs—”
“‘m not gonna let that happen.” gojo cuts you off sternly, hand leaving the dip in your waist in favour of cupping your jaw. his index raises your chin, enforcing eye contact between you both to ensure his certainty. there isn’t a shred of doubt in those cerulean orbs, gaze intensely strong as opposed to your shyer one.
the arm at your hips snake around the perimeter of your lower back to hug you snugly against him. you’re entirely at his disposition— body trapped between the door and his much larger frame towering over you, and you hate the way your chest tightens at the unreadable look on his face.
“ever.” he repeats more firmly, before planting a short kiss onto your lips. you’re taken aback from the intimacy behind the kiss, as if he really were trying to reassure you you had nothing to worry about it. he might’ve been reckless and utterly stupid, but when it mattered, he really could be reliable. “do ya trust me?”
“yes.” you answer honestly, and the grin he offers at your response confirms every shred of doubt you’d had in mind. of course you’d do this— you were as much unprofessional as he was.
“that’s my girl.” you jolt at the firm blow landed on your ass. when your lips fall into an annoyed pout, he’s quick to kiss it away, beaming at you like a child on their way to a candy store. “now go face the mirror f’me— needa apologize for not properly treating you right the last time.”
you’re sure he’s referring to your last encounter in his office when he’d decided to punish you for bad mouthing him by skipping oral, if the way he hiked your dress up to your hips, kneeled on the floor and spread your pussy lips apart said anything. you shiver from the cool air he breathes at your aching cunt, fingers gripping the ceramic sink before you.
“shitttt,” you moan, head lolling forward when you feel his tongue swipe from your clit all the way near your rear end. gojo latches his lips onto yours, and feasts like a starved man. he rotates his tongue into motions he knows will have your knees buckle the way it does, flicks it at your a swollen leaking clit, and fucks it in and out of your clenching hole. “f-fuck, satoru, oh my goddd!”
he groans loudly into your cunt, big hands gripping an asscheek each as he divulges into your core. you’re a slippery mess, and you can’t imagine how soaked his face must be by how sloppy he tugs and nibbles onto your labia, drinking up any fluid you have to offer him. he makes it nearly impossible to keep alert of any upcoming visitors— any time you attempt to regard the door, just a peek over you shoulder, he plunges his canines into the flesh of your ass and spanks at your cunt. it’s as if he wants you to completely trust and rely on his word.
“nah uh princess.” you feel the impact of the coolness of his rings against your warm folds, mixture of saliva and your juices splurting as he spanks you. you feel your thighs trembling as you whine, eyes rolling to the back of your skull from the pleasurable pain. “you’re offendin’ me over here. focus on me—not that damn door.” if you didn’t know any better, he was definitely pouting with a mouth full of your cunt.
how ridiculous.
“‘m just tryna w-watch out for the doo—ooohh!” his tongue finds its way to your clit and you officially give up. completely surrendering yourself to his disposition, you let your guard down and allow him to ravish you whole.
it’s proven difficult to keep your eyes on yourself as you watch your reflection through low lidded eyes— gloss smeared on your swollen lips as fat tears build at your lower lash line. your neck and chest littered in love bites, areas that are incredibly visible to the public. and under any other circumstance, you would’ve made a big fuss about it, but you simply couldn’t care with gojo’s index and middle finger pumping in and out of your sopping pussy.
you’re irresponsible and foolish, and admittedly shameful as you feel the infamous knot of arousal in your core tightening. your knees feel wobbly, and you’re moans tune into a higher pitch as you claw the marble sink. gojo reads your body language well, his pace steady as he simultaneously finger fucks your cunt while lapping at your bundle of nerves.
you shoot him a look behind your shoulders, the sight of your boss on his knees aiming to please you admittedly quickening the process, “s-satoru, fuuuck, ‘m gonna cum!” you whimper, bottom lip tugged into your teeth. you remove your death claw grip on the sink in favour of carding your fingers through a set of fluffy hair.
he cocks a brow behind snowy locks, cerulean eyes peering at you with sheer intensity. he knows you’re close, could’ve guessed from how tightly you clamped down on his tongue, and he’s aiming to give you the best damn orgasm you’ve ever felt in your life because you deserve it.
it takes one, two, three jabs of his fingers at that spongy spot against your muscles for the dam to break. and it all happens too damn quickly to register—your eyelids beginning to shut close as your cunt squirts onto gojo’s face with the addition of an indifferent suguru geto at the bathroom door—
wait. wait wait wait.
your eyes nearly fall out of their sockets as you’re quickly drawn back into reality, “oh shittttt— shit! w-wait, toru, hol’on a second ‘m— he’s right there— fuckin’ hell!”
it’s like he’s doing it to fuck with you, deliberately ignoring your pleas as he swirls his tongue deeper into your high. it takes a forceful grab of your fingers at his scalp to remove him away from your cunt, and even that makes him moan.
his skin is botched red and glistening wet in your arousal, a childish pout resting on his shiny lips. he looks like a child who you’ve confiscated his jar of cookies for overeating, “what’s the rush, princess? y’re kinda killin’ me here, ‘m not done with you just yet.”
“so is she the girl?” geto shuts the door behind him, back resting against the flat surface. he cocks his head to the side and presents his infamous smile— the one you’ve seen briefly in the hallways as you passed by him, on your way out of your boss’ office.
“hmm?” gojo tilts his head to the intruding voice, and when his eyes fall onto his colleague, he lazily shrugs his shoulders, as if his appearance had been the most natural thing. “oh, suguru—what’re you doin’ here?”
“they’ve sent me to come find you both as the closing speech is soon commencing,” geto pushes himself off the door and takes long strides towards you both. “though i did have my suspicions— turns out i was right. satoru, you fuckin’ whore.”
your heart beat wildly against your chest. your mind raced a mile a minute, thoughts in turmoil as you fought between the fear that settled im your gut from being caught by another worker but simultaneously feeling your cunt ache at getting caught by another worker.
“heyyy, that’s fuckin’ rude,” gojo squints his eyes at his friend, a firm hand raising to spank your ass. you jolt from the impact as you squeal, your face heating in embarrassment at the situation. “she isn’t the girl, she’s my girl. there’s a difference and you oughta learn it.”
geto waves a hand around as if to dismiss his complaints. “yeah yeah, sure.” the ravenette stops before you, and for the first time you notice just how much tall he is too. a large frame sitting in an expensive tuxedo towering over your bent form, leaning forward to sit at an eye-level with you.
your lips part, as if to weakly defend yourself from the shameful situation you’ve found yourself in, but before words can escape your throat, you feel his knuckles grazing along the slope of your jawline. the gentle touch begins at your jaw and trails down to your chin, where the pad of his thumb then fondles at the corner of your mouth.
there’s a hypnotic look in his eyes— a seductive gaze stuck in the endless pools of purple as he stares you down. despite still being clothed, you feel naked beneath his gaze, and yet you can’t find yourself looking away, even when he hooks his thumb into your mouth.
“hi beautiful. mind tellin’ me your name?” geto asks, the melody of his voice so honeyed that you can’t help the automatic response you give him. he chuckles, pulling his thumb out of your lips and swiping the wet digit against your bottom lip.
“gorgeous name for a gorgeous beholder,” you’ve heard that line before, most likely from your boss, and if it ever came out corny then, then it certainly didn’t feel corny now. “tell me y/n, has satoru taken care of you properly?”
gojo interrupts, taken aback by the nerve of his friend’s assumption of him. “what— of course i have! who do you take me for?” you can hear the whine through his words, though you were still entirely stuck in a trance by the man before you. “baby, tell ‘im i took good care of ya!”
“mind if i take a look?” geto cocks his head to the side, the tip of his nose grazing yours. blinking, you suddenly realized the proximity of the man before you, warm breath fanning above the dip of your cupid’s bow. “promise i won’t take too long. feel free to say no.”
and rationally speaking, you should’ve said no. you should’ve taken the outing and tell him it was unprofessional and entirely risky since you’d already gotten caught by him, and had it been any other worker, you would’ve surely been black balled for the rest of your career days. and yet, the way his touches felt comforting and safe, fleeting from the back of your neck down to your arms and chest, another around your torso—
oh fuck it. “yeah, g-go ahead.” you nod instead, your mind telling you one thing but your pussy telling you another.
“whaaaaat?! y/n!” gojo complains, but geto’s quick to smile at you, going as far as calling you a ‘good girl’ before quickly shoving gojo out of the way. he crouches down as gojo rises to his full height, one hand holding onto your cheek and spreading it as the other grips onto the back of your thigh.
you suddenly feel very aware of the situation at hand, and lower your head in shame, teeth nibbling onto your bottom lip. you feel like a slut— your pussy casually being inspected by another high figure at your workplace, meanwhile your boss leans against a nearby wall with his arms crossed over his chest and a deep frown on his face.
“not bad satoru.” geto teasingly praises his friend, the grip on your cheek spreading the flesh further apart, as your sticky cunt squelches in result. your lips then follow suit as they spread, and geto abandons the hold on your thigh in favour of swiping his thumb to collect all of your juices, before popping it in his mouth. “mmhm, she’s all wet and sweet too. can’t believe you were holdin’ out on me man. i feel betrayed.”
“ever considered the fact i don’t want to share her with anyone? much less you?” gojo retaliates, pushing himself off the wall to stand beside you. your brows furrow at his words, eyes following his steps before he plants himself at your side.
geto chuckles, an sleek eyebrow raising up, “oh?”
gojo ignores his friend in favour of directing his attention towards you, pushing your hair away from your face and behind your ear. you blink at him through thick lashes, tilting your head into the warmth of his palm at your cheek, “if you don’t want this at any time, just lemme know and i’ll kick his ass, yeah?”
“wait.” you hold onto the wrist near your face, and his blue eyes follow the point of contact before returning to your eyes. you suddenly feel bashful as he stares at you as if you were the only girl in the world. “wanna suck you off too. . . y’know, as a payment for earlier.”
“yeah?” his smirk returns to his face, fiddling with a piece of your hair between his fingers. you roll your eyes despite the smile that crept at your own lips. “i dunno sweets, it’s startin’ to sound like you’re in love with me or somethin’.”
“not even in your wildest dreams, satoru.” you scoff, grabbing the hand that played with your hair to rest it above the mounds of your chest. the fleeting touch of his fingers against your perky buds through the thin material of your dress has you humming in pleasure. you watch as his eyes light up like a child on christmas day, the smirk on his lips stretched even wider as he cups onto your sensitive flesh.
gojo pushes the material of your dress aside to free your tits, watching the recoil as your bud comes to contact with cooler air and instantly stiffens. “oh come on—you can admit it princess, y’know i won’t hold it against you.”
you lick your lips, “give me a break toru— hngh, fuck!”
“oops, my hand slipped.” geto comments, running his fingers up and down the entrance of your folds. you can tell by the sound of his voice that it was definitely not an accident, as he dips his fingers in and out of your cunt, drawing out moans from you.
you fail to see how gojo frowns, a bitter look on his face as his best friend snatches your attention away from him. it’s soon replaced by admiration when your face contorts into that beautiful look you make whenever you’re completely over washed with pleasure— and even if it isn’t him offering you that euphoric feeling, he feels his cock twitch in his slacks regardless.
“toruuuu,” you call out his name, your gaze unfocused as you stare him up with doe eyes. you watch as he gulps, completely enamoured by you. “whip it out already, need it in my mouth.”
you giggle as he wastes no time, fumbling with the belt at his slacks before dropping them to his knees. he pulls out his cock from his dampened briefs, dick standing tall in arousal. veins decorated the sensitive skin all over, his mushroom tip a raging red as it dribbled pre cum. you could feel your mouth salivate at the look of his dick alone, balls hanging heavily full of cum.
he tightens his fist around the perimeter of his cock, dragging it down from the base all the way up to his tip, a guttural moan heaving from deep in his chest. he’s taunting you, and you shamefully feel your cunt dampen at his wanton sounds, “ngh, you ready baby?”
from behind you, you hear geto’s slacks also fall down to his ankles as he pumps his own hardness right against the cleft of your reddened cheek. he taps the tip of his dick against your soft flesh, watching the recoil of your ass bouncing on his cock, panting heavily as his words come out breathily, “you—shit, good to go, y/n?”
you nod eagerly, legs spreading for stability as you bend your upper body forward. your hands grip around the firm muscle of gojo’s thighs, and your nose nuzzles in the bush of snowy pubes, his musk clouding over your senses in a familiar way. your tongue lolls out as it rolls over the sensitive skin of his ballsack and sucks, and gojo whines, hand immediately flying to the back of your head to grip at your hair tightly.
you can feel the tip of geto’s dick pushing past your first ring of muscle, and you attempt to relax the muscles of your body at the intense intrusion of his penetration. he’s fucking girthy— much thicker than gojo, though not as lengthier. he’s stretching you out in ways that has your limbs liquify in heat, fingernails clawing deeper into gojo’s pale skin.
“fuck, shit, you gotta loosen up f’me baby— you’re too tight,” geto grunts, hands gripping tightly at your waist as he lurches forward. your stomach tightens in lust as your thighs tremble, the intrusion of his cock balls deep in your cunt melting your brain. he’d just bottom out, and you already felt on cloud nine.
“feel s’good, ngh fuckkk—mmph!” your mouth is suddenly full, the familiar taste of saltiness resting on the pallets of your tongue. you hear gojo above you moan pathetically, hips already rutting desperately into the warmth cave of your mouth.
you’ve sucked him off plenty before and so you know just how he likes it— sloppy and tight. you hollow your cheeks and stay mindful of your teeth, as you relax your throat muscles and let him work his magic.
“there’s my good girl, fuck yeah— y’know jus’ how i love it, dontcha?” gojo smiles down at you, thumb grazing at the dent in your cheek. he drags his thumb over the outline of his cock against your face, “what a fuckin’ beauty, shit, keep doin’ great for me, hnghhh, ‘m gonna bust soon.”
“already?” geto teases, thrusts languid as they match the pace of his friend’s. his hips meet the curve of your ass in hypnotic bounces as your ass ripples off his pelvis, and gojo’s quick to roll his eyes.
“fuck you,” it’s meant to come off as an insult but when you take him even further down, a gag tightening around the length of his cock, it trails off into a desperate moan.
“no thanks, ‘ve got your pretty little secretary here.” geto hisses when your pussy clamps down on his cock. he feels sweat begin to collect at his hairline, and focuses on the grip of your folds latching at his dick desperately.
you feel a firm blow at your ass cheeks, your muffled whines echoing in the room at the stinging pleasure. you attempt to run away from the impaling dick in your stomach, but you feel geto’s hands grab at your hips, stabilizing your limp body before a hand rises up and pushes your back into a curve.
“and where do you think y’re goin’?” geto tuts, hips angling at a new position, one that draws a broken mewl from your sore throat. every moan resonates against the dick stuffed in your mouth, and the sounds travel from gojo’s tip all the way to his stomach, as he feels his balls tighten.
“oh god baby, y’can’t do that to me!” gojo mewls, matted locks glued to his forehead from excessive sweat. you feel his droplets trickle down to your forehead, dribbling down your face and combining in the mixture of fluids leaking from your lips.
you feel his dick twitching in your mouth, a telltale that he’s bound to bust his load in no time. you release a hold from his thigh to cup at his balls, gently fondling with the sack as you bob your head forward to match his pace. saliva pools from the corner of your mouth and dribbles down your chin to the floor.
geto leans forward, chest pressed against the arch of your back. his breath is warm and tickles at the column of your hickey-littered neck, and the stretch of his girthy cock spreading the tight muscles of your rim has your stomach knotting in foreign pleasure.
his hand creeps in between your thighs, fingers toying with your aching clit as his lips graze at the shell of your ear, “love havin’ this clit of yours played with?” he purrs in your ear, lips ghosting over the goosebumps of your skin, and despite being gagged, you nod your head frantically in response. he’s bottomed out, balls deep inside your cunt, grinding his hips and rubbing his cock into areas you had yet to explore. “such a good slut f’me, ain’t that right?”
“for me– ngh, me too!” gojo argues childishly, quivery pink lips falling into a pout. he runs the pad of his thumb against your cheek, hooking his fingertip at the corner of your lips, thus painfully widening the hole of your mouth.
tears quickly build up at your lash line, vision blurring when you feel geto pull back up, landing blow after blow on the planes of your ass. the harsh impacts and rough thrusts has your backside ricochetting against his pelvis, your pussy clenching uncontrollably. the sensation was one that left you speechless– besides gojo’s lengthy cock occupying your throat. it was most definitely an uncomfortable stretch, but every now and then, when you’d feel the coolness of geto’s rings trailing down your inner thighs and the pad of his fingers soothing the ache at your clit, it easily subsided into pleasure.
“shitttt, just wan’ stay in your mouth forever,” gojo whines loudly, head thrown back with his brows cinched. he’s completely forgotten about your own comfort, fucking into your mouth for the sake of his own pleasure. you watch as his abs contract, chest heaving deeply, adam’s apple bobbing up and down. 
another gag rips out of your mouth when gojo abruptly plows into your mouth, your nose all the way to his snowy white pubic hairs. he moans all prettily, hand clutching tightly at your hair at the back of your head, before pulling away and repeating the same motions, “hell yeah baby– just like that, fuck.”
with tears now streaking down your cheeks, your mouth salivates uncontrollably as you clamp down on suguru’s cock, balls heavy with cum as they slap against your clit.
“shit—fuck, hold on,” geto hisses, thrown off by gojo’s sudden pace. purple orbs trail at the curve of your back all the way up to your bobbing head, when he’s hit with an idea. you fail to see it, but the smirk he shoots at his best friend is enough to telltale. you can only realise they’re up to no good too late, when gojo mirrors the smirk before him.
“match my rhythm and watch how quick she’ll cum.”
and embarrassingly enough, you feel the knot in your stomach tighten when you’re pounded into roughly from behind. their pace now much quicker and rougher, your broken moans turn into gargles around gojo’s shaft, and in an attempt to run away from the overwhelmingly thrusts stretching at your pussy, you instinctively move forward, only to choke around a twitching dick. you then realise their plan, when you try to pull away from the mushroom tip stroking at your uvula and wind up back into geto’s possession, balls deep in your cunt.
well shit.
they treat your body as if it were a fleshlight– a mere toy for their own pleasure, and you couldn’t deny the objectification of your body at their dispense had your body tense in straight arousal. the bulge in your throat and musky scent of gojo’s bush overwhelming your senses, and the thickness of geto’s shaft tearing your hole apart had you coming undone quicker than you’d like to admit.
“oh yeahhh,” geto whistles, never letting up his pounding as you leak through your pussy like a faucet. “look at that pussy go– clenchin’ down on me like a whore. y’fuckin’ love it when we slut you out like this, hm? our very own cumdump– shit, gonna fill you up nice ‘n good.”
“that’s my pretty baby— mmhm, swallow every last drop, mkay?” you feel your mouth being filled with warm spurts of cum, thick ropes shooting down your throat as gojo groans. “s’good for princesses like you, fuckkk, better open wide.”
✧.*
“i’m. . . gonna get goin’ now. you two stay back.” you tug at your dress, fixing your appearance with a nod before exiting the bathroom.
the two friends are left in the space as they run water against the heat of the skin, cleaning up any trace of mess they’ve left behind. the silence is incredibly loud, despite the faucet leaking water into the sink.
“she’s cute. i see why you like her.” geto comments, rolling his sleeves up before pumping his hands full of soap. he clicks his tongue against his teeth, “definitely piques interest.”
“suguru.” gojo deadpans, staring him down through the reflection of the mirror. geto looks up and returns the stare, though the crease of his cheeks through his smile sets gojo off wrongly. he can tell what his friend is thinking, and he doesn’t want to play this game— not with you.
“don’t. . . please. just don’t.” gojo breathes out, chest rising up and down. he doesn’t realize his fists are balled tight, nor that there’s a frown on his face. “she’s different, and i really like her. if you consider yourself my friend, you won’t.”
geto eyes him through slanted eyes, washing off the suds of soap on his palms before turning off the tap. every second passes by agonizingly slow for gojo as he watches his friend move. his tongue feels heavy in his mouth and his chest uncharacteristically tight.
he walks to the paper towel dispenser, before drying his hands and shoving the paper down the garbage. gojo’s eyes trail his every move yet again.
finally, purple eyes meet his and they curve into that infamous smile— one that could send chills down your spine if not on his good side.
“yeah, i got you.”
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thank you @nantoji for beta reading 🙂‍↕️.
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qing ya ji is about the making of people 👍🏼
the way 阴阳师 is bestowed not as a curse but like a love letter 💐
#its generous. also the characters....like what a good movie. contained well met and slow practiced in its manuevers in what it shows#and what it doesnt. what a brilliant display of two characters and the people who surround them. the people in the background remain people.#i feel like i keep saying the same thing these days lol#a practice in seeing people ugh. you see me and i see you. the question is always changing. will you test me? will you follow me? will you#share a cup with me? will i lay down offerings? will you notice? will you pick them up? will you notice the same thing i do and move in the#other direction? what possible directions can you see that i cannot? will i learn from you as you do from me? what can i learn from such a#man like you? what can i remember from knowing you? men are so beautiful lmfao its kind of painful.#this movie is so effective at what it does ugh it will always be an impression in my heart#how did you teach me and in the teaching what did you learn. you gave me so much without even looking. i was speaking honestly from the#beginning. you figured it out eventually. we both did. isnt it such a relief to find people who you think about knowing for the rest of your#life. isn't that the point? you knew the point - but he cemented it for you for real. 'thank you. im a real yin yang shi now.' you taught me#well. you taught me well. ill see you again. ill see you when i see you. theres no real desperation here because the stakes are not high.#i can wait to see you again simply because i know i can. there is no hurry. there is no rush. there is no time i cannot i have that will not#touch your life. and yours mine. it is what it is. the removal of cost. what is delicious here is not the obsession its the patience but the#general knowing and acceptance that you will be there when i expect you to.#its so distinct - this kind of intimacy. from the US and the ''west'' and all that hypermasculine hyped up polarizing emotion thats all#surface and petty reflection. wheres the meat? the body is meat. you treat it like an animal farm. it is disinteresting and boring.#im so disinterested in whatever conditions relationships are stereotypically expected to take shape as.#bro its so simple. its existing and so it is deserving. it is existing. it exists. i dont have to say less is more or enough here.#it just fucking is! how else do u think u can understand it#soy talks shit#reminders#for me#writing
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crystallinestars · 24 days
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NSFW Alphabet - Aventurine
In honor of the handsome gambler coming home, have some Aventurine smut.
I’m so sappy for this man, ugh.
Aventurine x fem!Reader
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
For the first while, the one doing majority of the aftercare would have to be you. Aventurine has had plenty of one-night stands where the other person got what they wanted from him and then left without engaging in any form of aftercare. He’s used to sex being transactional, a tool he used to win people over.
As such, Aventurine feels lost when it comes to providing aftercare for you since it’s not something he has experienced before. At first, it feels strange to him when you offer to get him water, massage his sore muscles, or cuddle with him right after sex. It felt strange, yet he found himself enjoying the moments when you allowed him to rest his head on your chest, feeling your fingers run through his hair as you chatted about various things.
Aventurine slowly warms up to the idea of receiving this type of treatment after sex, and once he becomes accustomed to it, will return the favor. He’s fond of giving you massages and kisses and joining you in the bath for some extra cuddles. He’s also very likely to order you a delicious meal to replenish your energy or spend the rest of the night lazing in bed with you until you both fall asleep.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
I know that this is supposed to be sexy and erotic and whatnot, but if I had to be honest, I would say Aventurine likes his eyes. As much scorn and discrimination as his eyes have brought him, they are his last remaining link to his family and people, and I think he treasures that. Plus, he likes it when you compliment his eyes and say they’re pretty. It makes him feel a bit better about his Avgin heritage.
On you, Aventurine likes your hands. He really likes how you gently caress him, be it in or out of the bedroom. From the way you hold his hand in yours, to the way you cup his cheek or trace your fingers along his body, he loves it all. He feels treasured under your touch, as if he were something precious to you, something irreplaceable. It makes him feel a complicated type of way, but he still seeks out that touch.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Is possessive, so he likes to cum inside and then watch his semen drip out of you. It’s a form of staking his claim on you. However, he’s perfectly happy to cum on your chest or face or wherever else you tell him to, though preferably in or on your body. Aventurine is also content to have your juices smeared all over his face from eating you out. Something about feeling how wet you are turns him on immensely.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Aventurine memorized your undergarment sizes and has spent a pretty penny buying you all kinds of fancy and risqué lingerie from expensive brands. He got you a few matching sets of high-quality lingerie among several costumes, such as a bunny girl suit, a maid dress, and a nurse outfit, to name a few.
He’s planning to give some of them to you as a gift on special occasions in the hopes of getting you to try them on and give him a little show. He loves seeing you dress up for him, and thinks it would be a fun way to spice up your sex life.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
He’s pretty experienced. Aventurine has had a few partners in the past, though they were strictly one-night stands with no feelings attached. It was more of a means to an end for him to relieve stress or win over the person for a deal. He basically used his partner and got used in return, and although some of these encounters were fun, they always left Aventurine unfulfilled.
It wasn’t until he met you and engaged in real lovemaking that he finally understood what was so amazing about sex (more on this in the intimacy section).
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Aventurine is pretty versatile, and his favorite positions change depending on what he’s in the mood for.
If he’s in the mood for something rougher, then he defaults to taking you from behind. He presses his hand on your upper back, pushing you face-down into the bed with your ass up in the air for him. He’s also fond of taking you against the wall with one of your legs hooked around his hip for a deeper penetration.
If he feels like letting you take the lead, he’ll lay back and let you do as you please. You want to pin him down or ride him in cowgirl? Go for it, he’s game. Use him however you want. That said, expect him to be a bit of a brat by challenging your authority with the smuggest of grins on his face. You have to earn his submission.
During moments of sweet and tender lovemaking, Aventurine prefers missionary or lotus. These positions are perfect for exchanging kisses and holding hands, and the eye contact between you feels more intimate which heightens the experience for him. He loves being as close to you as possible, your bodies pressed flush together as your hips move in sync, so expect him to keep his arms wrapped around you for as long as possible.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Aventurine is both serious and humorous. He definitely verbally teases and taunts you because he wants to get a reaction out of you, especially in the early stages of your sex life. It’s also a mask he employs to hide his own nervousness and vulnerability. However, he’s still considerate and respectful of your boundaries and feelings, and he takes the time to discuss these things with you in a serious manner.
While he’s usually very teasing and playful during sex, Aventurine has his serious moments. Those usually come up during tender lovemaking since it’s a more emotionally charged experience that leaves him feeling vulnerable. Genuine words of affection from you go a long way during those moments, and Aventurine might even return them in kind if your relationship has progressed deep enough.
Once he’s past the stage of slowly opening up and has become comfortable being vulnerable with you, Aventurine will act more playful and teasing again. Unlike at the start, this time he doesn’t tease you to mask his true feelings, but as a way to engage in some playful banter and watch your cheeks flush because he finds you super cute when you’re embarrassed.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Just look at Aventurine and tell me he doesn’t groom himself all over. He definitely keeps his pubic hair neatly trimmed so it looks tidy. It’s also the same blond color as the hair on his head.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
He's had sexual partners before, but there were no feelings involved, so the sex left Aventurine feeling unfulfilled. It felt good, sure, but it still didn't fill the void in his heart, and he was left empty. Sex with you feels completely different, though. You're devoted to his pleasure, you treat him with love and consideration, and he can feel how much you love him through your touch and words.
There is also something so fulfilling and joyous about making you feel good, of knowing that he is the cause for those moans and blissful expressions of yours. Sex with someone he loves is a completely different experience because it's more emotionally charged, and though it makes him vulnerable, he feels more connected to you. He loves that emotional connection even more than the physical one, and it also makes him realize that there's so much more to sex than simply reaching orgasm.
Getting Aventurine to lower his guard and allow himself to be vulnerable during sex is something that will take time, but once he learns to embrace the experience, he’ll be very romantic when making love to you.
As mentioned before, Aventurine likes to keep as much physical contact with you as possible, so he’ll hold you tight against his body while rocking his hips into you. He also enjoys holding hands, especially when close to orgasm.
He’s a very sensual lover, so he runs his hands along your sides or spine, leaves hot kisses on your jawline and neck, and whispers romantic words about how he loves you or how you’re being such a good girl for him. Feel free to do the same to him in return, he loves feeling your loving touch.
Even when he’s being rough, he’s still loving toward you so you’re never left feeling like he’s just using you to get off. He wants you to be comfortable being this intimate and vulnerable with him, plus he loves giving affection.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Aventurine accumulates a lot of stress from work, so I think he masturbates fairly regularly. He usually does it in the comfort of his own home when he has some downtime.
With your consent, he uses some lewd pictures and videos of you to jack off to, or he uses his imagination, recounting his favorite moments from your past sessions. He also pictures you in various risqué outfits or imagines what it would be like to try new kinks with you.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
He's a switch but tends to take on a more dominant role because he likes having some for of control over a situation, be it in or out of the bedroom. He's quite adept at giving you commands and suggestions, such as watching you masturbate and giving you directions on how to play with yourself. Aventurine is also into mutual masturbation, with either both of you watching each other get off, or using your hands to please the other.
He's into dirty talk, but mostly giving. From you, he likes to receive praise on how good he makes you feel. He also enjoys hearing you beg and describe in as much detail as you can what exactly you want him to do to you. If the task embarrasses you, that's even better because he finds you incredibly cute when you're blushing.
Other things he likes is edging and overstimulation (giving and receiving), mild exhibitionism (see Location below), videotaping/photographing your body or your sex sessions (with your consent, of course), and mild choking (mostly receiving, but can also give).
Aventurine can handle and enjoy rougher treatment from you, but he loves it most when you worship his body. Your loving and gentle touches feel so good, and honestly, he needs the pampering. Bonus points if you compliment his body, be it his looks or physique.
I also feel like he's into footjobs and boobjobs, and getting you to go commando or with a vibrator stuffed in your pussy in public (but only if you're into that).
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Generally prefers to have sex somewhere comfortable and private, so the ideal place is usually your home. The kitchen, bathroom, living room, etc are all fair game because Aventurine is not very picky about the location, though he does have a preference for the comfort of a soft bed or couch.
If exhibitionism is something you’re into, Aventurine can also fuck you in riskier places like a public bathroom or near an open window, though he won’t let either of you get caught.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Seeing you in his clothes is a surefire way to get Aventurine in the mood. His shirts are too long for you, so he finds it cute how the sleeves cover your hands, and how the neckline dips lower to show off your cleavage. Bonus points if one of your shoulders is exposed. He finds the sight incredibly erotic and endearing.
Aventurine also likes seeing you dress up for him, be it pretty dresses and nicely done hair or perfectly applied makeup. The idea of you dolling yourself up for him just to have your neat appearance ruined by the end of the night arouses him. As does the idea of seeing those painted lips of yours leave lipstick marks on his cock while you suck him off.
Aventurine can get easily turned on if one of your make-outs turns hot and heavy. Feeling the desire and passion behind your kisses can get him aroused pretty quickly, and he’ll try to turn you on in response by deepening the kiss or sucking on a few sensitive spots on your neck he knows make you weak in the knees.
He also loves it when you tease him, especially sexually. If you give him fleeting touches against his clothed dick, press hot kisses along his throat, or tug on his lower lip with your teeth, he'll easily get worked up. Giving him a fleeting taste of pleasure before pulling away, leaving him yearning for more all day will drive him wild and he'll follow after you like a puppy. Expect to be teased into oblivion in return once he gets his hands on you.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
As a man with a truckload of trauma, there are certain kinks Aventurine isn’t comfortable participating in, or some that he flat-out rejects.
He’s not into roleplaying scenarios where one of you is subservient to the other, so things like slave play or petplay get a hard no from Aventurine. He also doesn’t like calling you mistress due to the time he was forced to call his enslaver ‘Master’.
While he’s ok with some light bondage like having you pin his wrists down with your hands, he gets uncomfortable if handcuffs or rope is involved because it conjures up bad memories from when he used to be restrained like that as a slave. For the same reason, he’s not into wearing collars or collaring you.
While he can handle some rough play like choking, spanking, and biting, he doesn’t like being heavily hit, because again, it triggers bad memories for him. He doesn’t like being injured or causing you injury. He also doesn’t enjoy demeaning dirty talk that treats you or himself as something lesser or as an object.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
His silver tongue is good for more than just talking. Aventurine enjoys giving oral because watching you writhe and fall apart under his mouth is a huge ego boost. He loves to play with and tease your pussy, memorizing all the motions that get the best reactions out of you or any directions you give him to please you right. He becomes an expert at eating you out.
Aventurine gets a deep satisfaction out of pleasing you, and it definitely gets him hard to hear your moans and watch you squirm because he’s making you feel good.
However, I think he prefers receiving just a teensy bit more. Just a smidge. Having you between his legs, eagerly sucking his cock while maintaining eye contact with him is just heaven. There’s something so nice about being lavished with your love and attention, of seeing and feeling how devoted you are to making him feel good. It makes him feel appreciated and desired, which is a huge turn-on.
That said, Aventurine really likes 69ing because that way you both get to give and receive pleasure at the same time, which is a win-win. Though he does miss seeing your pretty eyes looking up at him while your mouth is stuffed with his cock.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Again, depends on his mood. If he’s feeling frisky, he’ll opt for a quicker and rougher pace, snapping his hips into yours in quick, sharp thrusts while holding onto your hips or arms to hold you in place. However, he’s never rough to the point of it being painful. He doesn’t want to hurt you, so he’s never that rough with you.
Since he’s a sensual person, Aventurine definitely enjoys slower sex. It’s his go-to when making love to you. The thrusts are slow yet deep, his cock dragging against the walls of your pussy, allowing you to feel him properly and fully. With a slower pace, he can kiss you deeper, press his forehead against yours, and exchange words of love more easily. He’s also a fan of slow morning sex.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
He’s fond of quickies. As much as he loves to take the time to work you up and explore your body, sometimes he just needs to quickly release all that pent-up lust to clear his mind. Especially if you’ve been teasing him for a portion of the day or you guys don’t have an opportunity to seclude yourselves for a longer session of sex. He can wait until you get home, but if you’re also willing, he’d much rather have a quickie.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
He’s a gambler and lives for the thrill of taking risks, so I’d say he’s open to experimenting in the bedroom. Aside from the things mentioned in the ‘No’ section, Aventurine is very open to trying new things, even more dangerous ones like choking or exhibitionism. Even if he’s not into something, he’s willing to at least try it once if it’s something you really want to do with him.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Has average to a bit above average stamina. Can go for one long round with a lot of foreplay, maybe two if he’s particularly horny. Probably recovers quicker than you, though.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Does own a variety of sex toys he experimented with, but his favorite is a bullet vibrator that he uses while masturbating.
Will absolutely buy toys to use on you, like dildos, vibrators, ballgags, crops, etc… feel free to use the toys on him too, if you want.
He finds toys to be a fun way to occasionally spice up sex to prevent things from getting too stale in the bedroom.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Huge tease. The biggest tease. The kind of tease to overstimulate or edge you until you’re crying and beginning him for relief or to stop—you won’t even know which one. Thankfully he’s rarely that mean, but he likes to edge you a bit before diving into the good stuff.
Aventurine loves to hear you beg, and he will deny you what you want unless you ask for it nicely. You want him inside? In what way? His fingers or his cock? You need to be more specific, darling~
He also verbally teases you, commenting about how eager you are for his dick or how wet you already are despite just starting, etc… And he always says it with that smug, confident smirk of his.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Aventurine tries to be quiet because he’d rather hear you over himself, but he does let out his voice a fair bit. He’s prone to whining when you pleasure him, letting out low groans and soft moans, sometimes even growling if you get him particularly worked up, though that sound is rare.
He also talks a lot. Even if he’s breathless from exertion, he’ll still talk dirty, complimenting you on taking him so well, on how eager you are to please him, or how good you feel inside. If he’s making love to you, you might even catch him whispering a strained “I love you” when he’s close to climax.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Aventurine has nimble hands and knows exactly how to use them to drive you crazy with pleasure. He’s an expert at fingering you, knowing just the right way to curl his fingers inside your pussy to hit your g-spot, what pressure and speed to thrust them in and out of your sopping cunt until your toes curl and you’re clamping down on him as you orgasm.
He also likes to slip a hand between your legs to rub at your clit while fucking into you or to gently tweak and pinch your nipples. The little squeaks and sighs you let out in response are music to his ears.
If at any point you’re frustrated by him constantly edging and teasing you, he’ll quickly shut down your cute protests by deftly rubbing at your clit in exactly the way he knows you love. The way your jaw goes slack as you forget what you wanted to say, reduced to a moaning mess, has him gloating and grinning in triumph. He loves watching you succumb to his touch.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Is 4.5 inches (11.5 cm) long when erect, and 4.1 inches (10.5 cm) in circumference (girth). His dick is slender with a few prominent veins running along the shaft. The tip is a nice pink color.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Average. Generally, Aventurine engages in sex 2-3 times per week, but can easily go for more since he’s easy to arouse. The only issue is that he’s often too busy to find the time. You better believe that when he comes home from his weeks-long business trips, he’s taking you to bed for some passionate sex.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
It depends on the situation. If he has work to do after, then he will cuddle for a bit before reluctantly parting from you.
If it’s nighttime or if he has no pressing matters for the day, then Aventurine might let his exhaustion take over and allow himself to fall asleep. It doesn’t happen immediately, though. He prefers to indulge in the afterglow with you, chatting and cuddling for a while, maybe taking a bath together to clean up before bed. He falls asleep a lot easier with you by his side, feeling your fingers tenderly card through his hair or burying his nose into the crown of your head and breathing in your scent.
Unrelated, but he can be both the big and little spoon, though I think he prefers being the little spoon more often. It makes him feel secure when your arms are wrapped around him. He likes falling asleep while facing you, too. Being wrapped up in each other’s arms brings him comfort.
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queerfables · 9 months
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I wanted this post to be more coherent but I am coming apart at the seams. Listen. Listen to me. Listen look no look me in the eyes and listen LISTEN.
Crowley and Aziraphale know. They're in love, and they know. Their love is requited, and they know. That's why it hurts so much! They don't say it. They can't say it. The consequences for both of them could be disastrous. But they know, they know, they know.
This is forbidden love at it's absolute pinnacle. This is centuries of dancing around an unsayable, inescapable truth. Loving someone this way is intense. It's a fiercely romantic headrush, because everything is high stakes fantasy and it's you and your beloved against the world. It's a soul crushing nightmare because the thing you want more than anything is always there, just out of reach. It's passion and yearning and stolen touches and desperately hoping the other person understands all the things you can't say.
It's also just unbelievably stupid. You have a sizzling moment of intimacy with someone and then three days later you're trying to act like business associates.
This dynamic has been present since season one, and sometimes the atmosphere between Crowley and Aziraphale becomes urgent and surreal enough that they almost name it. There's the bandstand, where Crowley suggests they could run away together. There's Aziraphale in 1967 saying, maybe one day we'll dine at the Ritz. These aren't the words of those unsure of another's feelings. These are declarations made in the clearest terms they dare.
The clincher for me is Aziraphale's face when Shax says she wouldn't have thought he was Crowley's type. It's a nasty comment meant to play on Aziraphale's insecurities: "If you're anything to him, it must be something sordid, and I'm surprised you can even offer him that." And she completely misses the mark! Aziraphale disregards her words without a thought. That eyebrow says he knows exactly how Crowley feels about him, and Shax's insinuation is laughable. He is uniquely Crowley's type.
It's less definitive for Crowley, and it makes sense that it would be. For the most part, Crowley is the accelerator and Aziraphale is the brakes. It is hard to hold faith that someone wants you when all they can tell you is "slow down". That doesn't mean he's unsure of Aziraphale's feelings. It means that he's unsure how much he's allowed to say. Aziraphale wants him to push right up until he doesn't, and it hurts them both when they go too far and have to walk it back. Even so, Crowley's confession makes it pretty clear that they're both in on this unspoken thing between them:
"you and me ... group of the two of us ... and we've spent our existence pretending that we aren't"
And then he kisses Aziraphale. And he doesn't do it carefully or tentatively. He doesn't wait for Aziraphale to be ready. Because that's how this dance goes, isn't it? Aziraphale wants him to push, and it's going to hurt and they're going to have to walk it back but fuck it all because Crowley is going to give them the thing they've spent their existence pretending they didn't want.
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aphroditesmoon · 4 months
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'cause I love this curse on our house
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clarisse la rue x fem!demigod!reader
summary: !THIS WAS A REQUEST THAT I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED! the requester wanted a fic about clarisse and reader breaking up after an argument, and after months apart from eachother, reader appears at the ares cabin at 3am because she couldn't sleep without clarisse.
warnings: sparring violence, angst, hurt/comfort, arguing, fluff at the end.
a/n: im sooo sorry I accidentally deleted ur request😭🙏 but I hope this is to your liking, and thank you for your kind words🩷🎀
wc: 3.1k
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"I never learned to lose a fight, I never learned to grow upright. this is who we are."
-back to you, flowerface
----
Clarisse wondered to herself, on whether or not you'd come running to her if she were to stake this spear through her chest.
Surely, you would? Sensible, independant and stubborn you.
She knew it'd take more than some flowers and half assed apology to get you to speak to her again, and with that knowledge in her head, she isn't sure what that would mean for your relationship.
Clarisse La Rue would rather die than be caught begging for your forgiveness. She would also consider maiming herself as a last resort for any problem she's ever had.
But it has been 3 months, and everyone knows about the 3 months rule.
3 months into dating, 3 months after a breakup. And yet so far, neither of you have tried to "happy new years" your way into eachother's life again.
It is a painful observation for the girl to make. And it's more painful for her to admit that she is at least 40% in the wrong.
That is the thing about the two of you, you become abrasive everytime you're upset, and Clarisse becomes confrontational everytime she is upset. On a normal day, those traits are opposite.
The truth was, Clarisse knew deep down how flawed she is as a person, and as a lover. She is a fighter at heart.
And though she'll admit, she's one of the best out there, being the daughter of a literal war god, but sometimes it feels like that's all she's good for. Does she want to love? Yes. Does she know how to? Not really.
She loves the early hours with you before everybody wakes up, trying to convince you to stay longer in her bed before you sneak out to avoid being noticed.
She loves the intimacy of your hands instinctively intertwining in a cabin party where the music is too loud and people are brushing against you in almost every corner as they try to dance or make their way out, and no one is paying attention to how her thumb caresses your knuckles.
She loves your lips, and how they feel around her neck as you bury your head in the crook of it from behind.
And at one point in the past, she loved how easy it was to be with you. Not the deep connection or understanding, but the way you wouldn't hold it against her if she were to pretend she didn't hear say hi as you walked past her. And how you didn't mind sneaking into her bed after midnight and the darkness becomes the only witness of your loving glances and tight embraces.
But Clarisse was quick to realize later on. that she might want more than that with you. It all felt impossible. Her reputation, her need to always look the toughest and never having a visible weakspot that might be used against her in the future.
And exposing you as her Achilles' heel, would mean that everything she's worked so hard for would break down into pieces the moment the news is out.
Her father already views her as a mistake. Something that could never be his. And for that she's had to work twice as hard as any of her siblings, and still be the least worthy in his eyes.
Were you worth risking all of that? She doesn't know. She doesn't think she ever will, now that it's all over.
And what about you?
What part did you play in cutting down the fragile line of rope the two of you had stood on?
Well, you were strong, opiniated, and rational. So fucking rational that it pissed her off. While she was losing her mind watching you laughing and giggling in the corner by a tree with some random dude that looked like he was birthed by a rat hybrid during the end of year party being held in camp. You were completely fine with not being with her.
Of course she knew that whatever going on between you two was a secret, but why were you so fine with it? Are you not affected by her the way she is with you?
"I'm playing the game by your rules, this is what you wanted." You had snapped at her after she dragged you away from your boring date into a secluded part into the forest. "This isn't a game." She had blurted out in frustration.
"Isn't it? Whenever you want me, I'm there. Whenever you don't, it's like I've never existed." And you were right. This was what she wanted. Despite herself and her feelings, this was how she treated you.
"We know we're together, why does anyone else needs to know that?" Clarisse asked instead of telling you what she really wanted to.
"Are you ashamed of me, Clarisse?" She could not answer your question. I'm ashamed of myself. She thought.
Can't you see? You are the only person who's been patient enough to wait for me, to stay with me. But then I'm looking for you in every crowd just to see that you don't even notice my absence.
Oh fuck it, in the end of the day, it would've never worked. Her thoughts countered againts one another.
Clarisse La Rue was born angry, all she ever knew to be, is angry. Her shortcomings is her inability to be gentle with those she loves the most, her need to break and rip every sensitive soul that has ever pitied her enough to try and pull out that ancient rage holed up in her chest.
"You were nothing without me. I found you, I gave you something to care about, something to anchor yourself to. Cause gods, you act like you don't give a shit, but you care so much that you make yourself believe that you don't care about being tossed aside, like it doesn't hurt you when I don't look twice on your way in front of other people."
The way she looked at you as she spat each and every word onto your face, was worse than the things she had actually said.
You scoffed at her, even with tears in your eyes, you glared at her and laughed out bitterly, refusing to sob or break under her stare.
"You know what your problem is, Clarisse?" You asked, even with the cracks in your voice, her spine shivered. "Indulge me." She forced out.
"You are so miserable, that you can't stand to see anyone else that isn't. You just need me to be pissed and devestated so you could feel better about yourself. Cause Gods forbid if you don't view your self worth on how less everyone else is." Clarisse says nothing, she knew you weren't finished.
"But I don't need to fuck over anyone else's life to know that I'm good. I'm perfectly fucking fine. I was fine before you, and I'll- I'll be fine after you." And there it was. That was where it all came crashing down.
Clarisse bad one second to say fuck all, to cut down all the bullshit. To admit that for once in her life, she was tired of fighting, and she had no clue what she's doing.
But as she opened her mouth to say it all, something in the shadow of her ego had restrained her tongue from speaking at all.
And so you watched her close her lips tight, and grieved then apology she never gave, the girl she couldn’t be for you. And then you left.
Everyone steered clear from Clarisse's way, unsure of what was getting on her nerves, and not caring enough to want to know.
And that night became the last time the two of you have ever spoke to eachother.
"Clarisse." Her brother's voice snaps her out of her thoughts. He was in position with his spear.
"Aim for my chest, remember to move your feet like taught you." She instruced him, fixing her own stance. "Go."
The boy moves quickly, and just like she envisioned in her head for ten thousand times in the just a few minutes ago, her feet drags.and her hand slows down for a second- because all it took is a second for the spear to slash her chest, and slams her down on her back.
---
Growing up, you had always earned the title of the "easy" one. Compared to your step-siblings, you had caused the least problem, required the least attention, asked the least questions.
You always knew what to do. You took care of your siblings when your parent couldn't, you knew how to take care of them the way your parent would. You knew when to get things done before you were told to, you knew where the pills were whenever you weren't feeling where. And you knew which secrets were better kept to yourself.
That one doesn't need watching over, they'd say about you. Even as you're being sent over to camp quick enough before the monsters acended, you were still not worth being worried over.
Someone who takes care of others so well, sure knows how to take care of themselves, right? Right.
Of course you're self sufficient, of course even know, you know where to find medication before your sickness gets worse. Or course even now, you know just the right things to tell people so you'd be left alone.
That was the bright side of raising yourself and growing up in an environment that made you feel so alone, you get used to the silence as the company gets smaller and smaller.
But no one ever said that loneliness felt good, even as a person who's found comfort in it. Because the truth of it, is that it's the sinking feeling in your stomach that you get addicted to. It is the repetitive cycle of breaking down that feels like home, because that's the only constant thing that have prevailed in your life.
What Clarisse had given you, with her presence, her rare tenderness and welcoming touches, was something new that had altered your entire defense system. Hope. She had given you hope.
And as you stood in the house that fell all over you, surviving the damage just like you always do. You realised just how stupid you were to even think that this time it would be different.
The news of Clarisse's injury spread like wildfire. And after repressing your emotions for the longest time, you felt your chest tightening from a familiar feeling.
Clarisse have taken blows before, but never this bad, never this serious. You know that she'd heal in time, but it doesn't stop you from worrying.
How could she be so stupid and careless? Being slammed down by a younger sibling nonetheless. Even if she has no regard for her physical safety, she must have one for her pride.
She's never so easily distracted or foolish, this injury and including her little spear incident has been looked upon by others as a moment of weakness for her. They are starting to wonder if Clarisse was ever that competent in the first place, or if she has just been making it look like she is.
You tossed and turned on your bed. The sheets don't feel right against your skin. It must be the heat, you tell yourself. It must be the heat because it cannot be the deprivation of Clarisse's cold skin from yours.
Demigods do not medicate the same way mortals do, and yet without anyone knowing, you've been swallowing down melatonin almost every night to be able to fall asleep.
It's not easy to get, the last hidden stock of it from the medical room finished 3 nights ago. And if no one had noticed your sleeping problems before, they do now because of your visible under eye bags.
Your hands have been shaking, a side effect of mortal drugs. It has also been making you more jumpy, anxious.
The worst of it all is how all those symptoms only worsens your sleeping problems now. As if seasonal depression itself isn't bad enough, now you're capable of staying up all night revisiting old haunting memories.
It's easy to distract yourself in the day with all the training and learning to do.
But no one survives the cruel coldness that the night presents itself with. When your only friend is the empty ceiling staring back down at you, and the only kind of blanket you want are the ones that feels like her arms.
It was ironic, you still wanted her the way a kicked dog would still roll over if asked to.
You had left her with your head held up high. But only the gods know how low to the ground you'd kneel down to for her to look at you again the way she used to.
If she had wanted you more lenient, then she could've just asked. If she had needed you to need her more then you would've begged for her if she would've just told you.
Pushing aside the soft material of your blanket off of you, your feet barely makes a sound as you tiptoed to the door to exit your cabin.
You told yourself you don't really know where you're going. But you moved in the same way you had 3 months ago, the road is memorized, the pace is as similar, and the yearning is twice as strong.
The moom followed you from above, lightimg the way as you walked on the ground from the pavements to patches of grass.
When you found yourself in front of the Ares cabin, you truly asked yourself if you have even an ounce of shame or sense left in your head. The answer was none, all that lived inside of you was dread, ever growing. The last straw before the breaking.
The last chance that looks a little too late to be taking for.
And yet as you pull open the door ever so slightly the way you used to, you feel it being held static before a creaking noise could be made. And like memories you've seen flashing in your mind multiple times before, your eyes meet Clarisse's.
"What are you doing here?"
"What are you doing up?"
You spoke at the same time as her. Both of you looked as surprised as the other.
As you took in eachother's appearance, Clarisse looks at you expectedly, considering that you are the one who isn't at your cabin. "I...wanted to see you."
Her expression changes slightly, as if she wasn't expecting that answer.
"Weird hour to visit." She noted. "Weird hour to be up by the door after you're slashed on the chest by a spear."
The two of you stared at eachother in silence before you notice Clarisse's chest heaving as she breathed out a low sigh. "Do you want to come in?" She whispered out to you. You nod your head once and waited for her to move aside so you could be let in.
Naturally, your hand found hers. She clasped her fingers over yours without a question as the two of you walked towards her bed.
Sitting dowm side by side, you eye the outline of her face closely in the dark, some sort of relief is released in your chest. "How bad is the damage?" You asked slowly. You almost reached up to brush a strand of hair away from her face, but caught yourself.
"Could've been worse." Was her response.
"Does it hurt right now?" You inquired again. You hear her inhale sharply and wondered if breathing was hard for her. "Yeah."
"I'm sorry." You weren't sure what else to tell her. To know that she was in pain had hurt you as well, but a larger part of you did not really care for her injury. Only now do you realise how much being away from her have affected you.
Now, in much closer proximity, your breathing fans her skin, the back of her hand touching yours, and her eyes unmoving from yours, do you realise just how much you needed Clarisse La Rue.
"It doesn't hurt as much as having to watch you leave." She spoke those words in a hushed whisper, meant only for your ears. If only dhe has been a little louder. You would've been able to hear the halt in the back of her throat. "No?" You whispered back to her. "No."
"I wouldn't have left, if you would've just asked me to stay."
"I know. I know you would." She mutters it affectionately, the cold shoulder already gone. "I know you would...you've always been good to me."
You swallowed the lump in your throat and held your tears in. "Then why didn't you?"
Clarisse shrugged. "I'm never good to you."
You frowned at her reply, feeling a jolt of anger striking through you. "But you could be. Why won't you be good to me, Clarisse?" Water gathered in your eyes, your primise yo refrain from crying broken.
"I would give you anything. I would give you my life. Could you just be good to me, Clarisse?" You told yourself that you wouldn't ask this question again, no matter how much of a dog you feel like, you won't force her to give you a bone.
And so with a tear running down your cheek, you looked up at her pleadingly and thought, please, see me, want me, love me. Need me the way I need you.
Her forehead softly rests againts yours, and you hear her then, mumbling."I could be good. I could be good to you."
Her thumb finds the wet streak on your face and wipes it off. "I want to be good to you."
"Then do that. It's that easy." She shakes her head lightly, making your frown deepens. "I've had to be this person that everyone expects me to be, because of my father, and my siblings. Sometimes giving in, feels like it could be death itself. Sweet dreams before you wake up in hell. That's what it feels like trying to be the person you want me to be. Punishment worthy."
"But it isn't death, Clarisse. Not just because someone else thinks it should be.
- Not just because your father thinks so."
"I know." She answers with a more reassuring tone.
"I haven't been able to sleep without you." You tell her out of obligation. "I can tell." She joked, the both of you chuckled lightly.
Clarisse then crawled over her bed to lie down and tugged you by your sleeve to find your place in her embrace again.
Laying your head above the area her chest was struck on, her beating heart becomes your lullaby. You fell asleep soon after, with your legs tangled together under the covers. Whatever was to happen tomorrow, it wouldn't matter. Because the worst was over.
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hwaitham · 8 days
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𝓪𝓷 𝓲𝓷𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓽𝓮 𝓹𝓲𝓮𝓬𝓮 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓪 𝓶𝓮𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓲𝓬𝓪𝓵 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽 𓈒 ˖ ࣪ 𝜗𝜚
boothill x f!reader . nsfw — mdni . comfort ?? fluff ?? angst ?? i dunnoooo ! ! ! a bit of everything . established relationship ノ implicit mentions of oral sex ノ i am running with the idea that boothill doesn't have a human heart + cannot feel touch on any metal part of his body . . if this is not what is canon i am ! Sorry ! ! ノ things get rather prosy n perhaps pretentiously poetic near the end so i am sorry x 2 ꒱ྀི 855 wc
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“so, you can’t feel anything when i touch you here?” 
your cheek is nestled comfortably atop of boothill’s shoulder as you sit straddling him, slip your fingers beneath the rolled sleeve of his vest and feel up the smooth contours and edges of his bicep.
it’s rather bittersweet how you ask, when you ask— seemingly every week now, as soon as the two of you can steal for yourselves a moment of reprieve. embracing him by the fire under the quiet of the dark night, holding your entire universe in your arms.
‘i don’t ask because it turns me off, or anything— nothing like that at all, really!’ you’d explained, when first you asked him some new moons ago. ‘i’m just curious, is all… you don’t need to prove your humanity to me.’
“nope, still can’t feel nothin’ below my neck.” he pops the ‘p’, then pops open an eye to gaze down at your frame settled on his lap. “don’t think i’ll ever be able to, for that matter.”
you look soft. sweet. supple. so warm. limbs flushed with blood, heart beating with love, life. and he remembers well how you feel of it, too. the custardy creaminess of your skin from all those times he’s kissed you to sleep— your cheek and neck and the hot swell of your breast— from all those times he’s devoured you out of your dreams with his tongue, your toes curling over his shoulders.
“not even here?” spreading your thighs further atop his hips, you lower your hand to the strong dip of his side, trace your touch along the various ports lining it, down, down, down, until you’re able to curl your fingertips past the waistband of his slacks, palms pressing into his groin.
“wow… first time you’ve been brave enough to touch me there, doll. what’re you playin’ at?” 
boothill’s eyes turn feverish and he smirks, sun-blood handsome and toothy and ineffably human. 
his hands leave their place behind his head to gently hold your waist, pull you closer into him. “you tryna bewitch me into bed?”
giggling softly, you shake your head, happy to see him smile. happy to see the face you trust, the face you love. “no… just, i was thinking…” you remove his hat, tame the wild tendrils of sleet and onyx hair with a tuck of them behind his ear.
then, you cradle his head within your palms, thumbs smoothing comforting lines over the lift of his cheeks, before you lean in to lay a tender, wet kiss there. 
“… thinking that i should probably give you lots of special attention here,” you kiss his cheek again, and again, and again. “also here,” you lay another to his forehead, upon pushing back his bangs, “can’t forget about here, too…” a third and final to the soft curve of his lips.
you melt into his broad frame when he kisses back, obedient as you open your mouth for him, let him lick over your teeth and gums and tongue and stake his claim, greedily take the burgeoning morsels of your heart that you so blithely offer him.
“mm, this special attention— ‘s real nice… do it more often, yeah?” he whispers between kisses, his hands wrapping further around your waist to effectively hug you against him.
when you’re left bereft of oxygen after a mere few moments of intimacy, nodding eagerly is the only thing you can bring yourself to do— because you just want to be good. 
wanna be so good, wanna be everything to you, wanna keep you safe, wanna make you happy, wanna be a home for you, wanna make you feel.
“when i kiss you, do you feel it here?” you’re breathless as you break free from boothill’s lips, unzipping his vest with haste and tugging it past his shoulders to expose his torso to you. your palm finds the metal plate of his chest and you press down gently over the spot where his heart is… or rather, where it should be.
your lover’s body is always cool, icy to the touch— an alloy of antimony and silicon and whatever other heavy metals his creators have deemed suitable enough to aid in the formation of an unbreakable shield, indomitable weapon. 
and truth be told, boothill does not feel it there— where you hope for a heart to be. 
but he does feel something, a jolt of electricity through the wires that take place of sinew, bolts that take place of joints. it may very well be the effect of a placebo on his mind, a wish for wanting to feel in his mechanical heart when you slather your love over him, though it’s all the same, really: the syntax of his binary language.
you don’t need to prove your humanity to me.
perhaps he is made of elemental scraps, but he is still organic, plum-hearted, throat lined with the warmth of the sun. because where do antimony and silicon come from…?
a planet’s crust that its ocean so tenderly covets and little homes in the sand for little sea creatures from millennia past that she keeps close, safe, happy; that she kisses with, well… warm lips.
“i feel it everywhere.”
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vibingandsimping · 8 months
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Random sfw + nsfw thoughts/headcanons for randomly assorted characters from BG3! Excuse any grammatical errors or poor phrasing… it is nearly midnight and I got off work.
Send requests or thoughts in my ask box. It will always be open!
Forewarnings/tags: Trying to keep this gender neutral… mentions of sweat/scent, blood-drinking, possession/control, some tooth-rotting fluff, fingering (receiving + giving), oral (receiving), hate-fucking, some ass-play mentions?, nipple-play, dirty talk, degrading, praise, validation.
Characters involved… Astarion, Wyll + Gortash
Astarion,
If you have warm-blood… such as a living creature. He adores that- his fingers trail along the expanse of your skin and if you could see his eyes you’d swear his name made sense. It has been so long since he had his own warm skin. Since Cazador stripped him of his innocence and life. He lives vicariously through your body. He may be dead but you breathe life into him and he swears his cold-heart no longer beat still.
He admires your features. The more unconventional ones. Like the wrinkles in your skin, the uglier scars that line your flesh. Moles, freckles, stretch marks… they all remind him of how uniquely alive and different you are. He’d kiss each one if you’d let him as his tongue singed praises.
He’d craft you a perfume or cologne to your scent. His senses are heightened as a vampire. He’s pressed his nose against the crook of your flesh more times than he could count. He’s smelt your skin and sweat… all of your essence. He has tasted and inhaled the scent of your blood. With that information, he presents you a mixture of herbs and other properties. Once applied to your skin, it illuminates your personality. Truly, as he said, he missed his calling.
As we all know… this man loves to bite. It is a form of dominance as well intimacy. Your vulnerability and his stake of claim as well as acceptance. You do not truly understand the importance behind the act. He never fed on humanoids until you. You were the sweetest he’d ever tasted… and will ever truly taste. The fact you’d give yourself so willingly gives him a feeling of superiority. As well as a lighter, chest tightening feeling of belonging. As much as you belonged to him, he was also yours.
He truly loves to delve into your pleasure. As much as he is fond of using his tongue… to break you apart with simply his mouth. Watch you crumble and cry from betwixt your thighs, there is also an unremarkable excitement in his fingers. Filling you and stretching you with them. Working to angle and prod the most sensitive parts whilst his tongue slides against yours or along your neck. Licking at the wounds from his feedings. To hear you cry so deliciously from just the thickness and persistence of his fingers strokes his ego. He knows he will fuck you dumb unto his cock.
A shorter smut headcanon but I do believe he’d love cumming on your skin. Your face, chest (particularly loves giving you a pearl necklace, he thinks you look dashing), stomach, thighs… any skin that is available, honestly. There is a strange sense of pride for him in it. To see you covered in him. He also loves to cum inside. Either works, honestly, as long as it is you.
Wyll (this guy has no fics about him. Step up y’alls game)
A true gentleman. He grew up as a son of royalty… what do you expect? If you guys ever had a proper date, he’d dress no less to impress the finest. Honestly, it makes you feel so utterly underdressed. He adorns a wonderful cologne. It is reminiscent of leather, warm spices and a sweeter scent like honey. His vest has gold detailing along a beautiful maroon. Still, in his eyes you are the most stunning thing he’s ever seen. No matter how fancy you dressed. He cannot keep his eyes off you, truly.
We all know he loves to dance. It is something he praises in his dialogue. Still, he wishes no more than to dance with you. If you can or cannot dance, it doesn’t matter. He will teach you the rhythm and steps if you have two left feet. Each time you trip or fall, he simply quirks a smile and offers a hand. He does not judge, only finds some amusement in how adorable he finds you. If you know how to dance? How delightful. He will play some faint music to follow along too. His hand rested along the small of your back and his fingers intertwined with yours. Dipping you and guiding you as the music fades away and you’re left with the trance of his loving gaze.
As much as he is a gentleman, I think he’d love harmless pranks. Gentle teasing of your character to see your frustrations and shock. He’d ‘misplace’ an item of yours to see you scour in confusion. Then, when you look at him, he is holding it out with a devious little smirk. He lets out a chuckle when you stomp over and nearly cuss him out. He loves every side of you and you know that it’s lighthearted fun… and god damn is it hard to hold a grudge when he has a smile like that. Curse him, truly.
He is a simple man, honestly. He takes pleasure in what you take pleasure in. Will indulge your desires and kinks as long as they aren’t particularly destructive. Though, he does have a little… interest. He proposes it one day with some nerve, or, you happen to stumble on it yourself. Nonetheless, he enjoys his ass being prodded during oral. You noticed when a fondling hand upon his balls drifted and brushed against his hole. He stiffened and let out a strained noise. You brushed it again before discovering it was one of pleasure. With that information, do as you will. Just know that it makes him release much easier than he intends. He finds it a dirty (although frustratingly pleasurable) trick when you go down on him.
He enjoys toying with your nipples while either betwixt your thighs or wrapped around you. There is a certain look you hold when his thumbs squeeze and roll them. You arch your back a little more and your thighs quiver as the pleasure shoots between them and enhance what he was giving you. It was truly a sight and he didn’t even have to say anything for you to unravel just the way he’d like. Don’t think it’s just hands, either. He’ll glide his tongue along them, sucking and nibbling til he is assured you’re enjoying it.
Gortash (I’m a dirty Gortash lover… sue me. Durge will get some content later, I swear)
Starting off with the normal Tav… If you manage to ‘fix’ him in a sense, he admires your persistence and patience with him. He had a troubled past that he overlooked and developed some… issues from. Yet, it was your kindness and guidance that led him to stopping the Absolute and creating a better city. He is not perfect, by far. Enver is still a controlling man. He needs some sort of power and dominance to soothe his mind. Though, he does not use fear to control his citizens anymore. He’s truly impressed by the way you swayed him. You can see it in the way he gazes at you sometimes. There is certain softness as his hand grasps yours and he looks to you for reassurance in a moment of vulnerability. He needs you to keep him in reigns.
He loves holding you from behind and to bury his face into your neck. The crook between your head and shoulder holds such warmth and a smell that is yours. It reminds him of the path he has chosen… and the person he gets to cherish for it. He places his hands onto your stomach and allows his sharp, metal nails to tease the skin. To remind you of the still powerful man whose giving up such command and control to you. Someone who grounds him. He might even hum into your skin in content if you do not push him away. Honestly, you will eventually. He could cling onto you like a koala of you did not stop him. He murmurs into your skin about how you two rule this kingdom… and one day you’ll be officially betrothed to him. The thought of him proposing and taking your hand in marriage makes your heart flutter.
Although he is so soft with you, he fucks you like he hates you. His cock battering your walls and filling you up so painfully full. He is thick- and makes your mind melt as he stretches you unlike you’ve known. He may not be particularly the longest but he does not lack length. Sadly, foreplay isn’t the best thing he’s at. You can blame it for his inflated ego and quick beds over the years. If you ruined his initial plans and had him submit the Absolute, he seethes in your ear about it. As much as he is a changing man, there is a part deep down that will resent that fact for awhile. He could’ve had everything he’d ever wanted as a boy. “Look at you, such a dirty thing. Soiling my plans, stomping into my heart… and now you’re sprawled on my sheets pathetically.”
When you finally convince or wrangle him into going down on you, it’s a sight. A mess of black hair and hands wrapping around your thighs. His tongue works rapidly, lavishing you in slightly inexperienced licks. Sucking at your sensitive parts before returning to ravishing you with his tongue. It is not that he hasn’t gone down before in all his years… it’s that his ego was so inflamed that he never truly thought or cared for it before you. He’s willing to try and work on better things just for you. As such, this is a way of showing his commitment to you. Not only to indulge in his pleasures but to show he cares about yours.
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swordcreature · 3 months
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hi! any hcs for the tiefling bachelor trio + sharing a bath with their partner?
hi anon ty for this request!
i struggled a bit on whether or not i wanted to include tub sex or just stick to a simple, intimate "they bathe each other" kind of thing.
but i can't resist adding in some minor smut when i can
what can i say ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Dammon, Rolan, & Zevlor - Sharing a Bath
contains sexual content MDNI/18+
Sharing a bath with the tiefling boys
Dammon: 
Dammon’s tub is smaller, made to fit in the limited space of his home. He doesn’t have a lot of fancy soaps or oils, just the necessities, but he does take the time to make the bath as hot as you like it.  
Sharing a bath with him is as much for the intimacy as it is for getting clean. It’s about the experience.  
Which means he’s very handsy in the bath. Not always in a sexual sense either, just a lot of physical contact, solely for the sake of feeling you. The moment you sit down he pulls you towards him to sit between his legs with your back to his chest.  
And even though you’re pressed tightly against him, it’s not enough. 
His hands roam everywhere, not an inch of skin left untouched. Running his hands down your arms, palms smoothing over your sides, claws tracing the inside of your thighs. Something about the way the warm water heats your skin makes it irresistible. Well, more so than usual. 
Dammon offers to help wash you as an excuse to touch you more, to bring you close and lavish you with attention. He always picks out soap that smells like him, his not-so-secret way of staking his claim, so to speak.  
If you offer to wash him, he’ll let you, but it’s not as much fun for him. He very much prefers lathering you up, getting you sudsy and slippery, and so soft. He does enjoy having his hair washed though. Especially if you have nails to give him a gentle scratch while you gently work through some tangles.  
He loves to fool around in the bath and most times you feel him already hard by the time you sit back against him. His hands still roam you, but he’s hungrier than usual, the gentle passes of his hands turn into squeezes, groping his favorite, most plush parts of you.  
When he knows you’re willing, he spreads you with your back still to him so that he can tease you. Feeling you so prone and vulnerable, legs wide open and head resting back on his shoulder, makes the blood rush to his cock. He rocks it against you for any bit of friction he can get.  
But at some point, it’s too much for both of you, and he quickly turns you around to ride him. It’s messy. Water splashes everywhere; Dammon tries to buck up into you at the same pace you take him, but the tub is much too small to do it effectively.  
So he gets up abruptly and carries you out of the bath, both soaked and dripping (in more ways than one). He tosses you onto the bed, too excited to do much else besides climb on top and finish what you started. Most days the water never even has a chance to cool before you’re out and on the bed.  
Rolan:  
Rolan prepares a luxurious bath. Lots of fresh soaps that smell like delicate flowers and fragrant herbs that supposedly make your skin soft. When he draws the water for both of you, it’s not usually for bathing. It’s for fun and relaxation. A time to pamper each other.  
At first you sit at opposite ends of the bath, each with a full glass of wine, talking about the day and what needs done tomorrow. He enjoys winding down with you, listening to you talk and watching as you sink down further into the water with loose muscles. Being able to provide you with such lavishness brings him immense satisfaction.  
As you both have a little more to drink, he beckons you closer, pulling you to sit at his side where he can wrap himself around you better. One arm at the edge of the tub against your shoulders, the other gently running circles over the skin not under water. He likes to watch the goose bumps form as his warmed fingers brush over your chilled chest.  
The conversation becomes more intimate, now only whispers and hushed giggles as you leave no space between you. Breathing each other’s air. Sharing slow, buzzed kisses. Rolan wants nothing more than to feel as if you two are the only ones in the world in that moment.  
He keeps the bath hot for as long as you want, as long as you’re willing to indulge him with your lips and your soft touch. You also magically never run out of wine, either.  
For the most part, sex in the bath isn’t Rolan’s favorite. Particularly because of how unruly things can get. That doesn’t mean he won’t indulge when the time is right.  
As you sit together, arms and legs twisted together, he’ll untangle you from him to pull you onto his lap to straddle his thigh. He grabs at your hips, moving them in a lazy rhythm that passes your core right over the ridges of his thigh. 
When you find the right speed he relents, watching you grind yourself against him, careful to keep you from going too fast and splashing water over the tub. He grips his cock in one hand to work it in time to your movements.  
But you take over with an eager pump of your hand. You both rock into each other, growing more desperate. Rolan kisses you with wet, warm lips as you move together in the oiled water of the bath. Everything is slick and hot, and soon you both reach your peaks, gasping into each other’s mouth.  
Rolan is quick to get out of the bath after that, but he’s more than willing to wrap you in a towel and lead you to bed where your night continues.  
Zevlor: 
For Zevlor, baths are usually all about utility. It’s something he picked up while in command and has been hard to forget. He uses a cheap, clean smelling soap – the same kind he has used since he was a cadet. He’s never had time or patience for anything fancier. A real military guy. 
He’s hesitant when you broach the subject of taking a bath together, not sure if he’d enjoy soaking for longer than the several minutes it takes him to bathe. But still, he agrees.  
And he loves it.  
At first, he’s awkward, trying to give you space despite his long legs taking up a lot of space. When you position him to lean back against you, his head resting on your shoulder with your body pressed next to his, he relaxes, lowering down into the water ever so slightly. His tense muscles start to relax. 
He wasn’t sure what he expected, but it wasn’t this: your hands cupping water over his hair, fingers working over his scalp as you lather up the soap, lips pressing against his temple when he closes his eyes.  
Zevlor’s almost asleep when you whisper for him to lean back further so that you can rinse the suds from his hair. He’s never felt so relaxed in his life. Even as the water cools, he’s more than willing to keep still, indulging in the warmth of your body and the feeling of your hands smoothing over the plane of his chest.  
The water is too cold for you to properly bathe by the time he finally stirs. But you don’t mind, especially after seeing the serene look on Zevlor’s face as he relaxed in your arms. 
When he’s laying back in your embrace, eyes closed and breathing even, it’s hard to resist letting your hands glide down the lean muscle of his body until you reach his length. He twitches with surprise as you cup his balls in your palm, his cock hardening almost instantly.  
You rub your hand up his shaft and back down, taking him in your fist to work him over lightly.  
His hips buck haphazardly, too relaxed to control himself. You continue just like that, lips tickling the point of his ear as you whisper praise for how good he feels in your grip.  
It doesn’t take him long to finish after the intimacy of the bath and the practiced way you touch him. When you both are warmed up and dried off, he takes his time returning the favor.  
It’s not long before he asks for you to join him in the bath again.  
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yearning-for-autumn · 4 months
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Azriel NSFW Alphabet
A/N: Literally no one asked for this, also I may have gone a bit overboard so like if anyone who knows me sees this no you didn't.
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Azriel is king of the princess treatment. Whilst he is rough in bed, he is gentle and sweet with you once it’s all over, he’ll run his hands softly down your body whispering how well you did, how good you were for him. Then he’ll scoop you up and run you both a bath, getting in with you to wash your hair and hold you.
Butterfly kisses….enough said.
B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Azriel is an ass guy, he likes boobs but he will always admire a shapely bum. He loves to grab it, slap it, rub soothing circles on it as he fucks you. He loves to have you bounce up and down on his cock facing away from him as well so he can watch it jiggle. To a lesser extent, he loves your neck as well, he loves to leave hickies to stake his claim…possessive Illyrians…
His favourite body part of his own is probably his wings. He’s a bit smug about the fact he has the biggest wingspan of his brothers, and on a sadder note he is just thankful he can use them, that he learnt to fly and the freedom they represent for him.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
This man cums heavy. Like…it’s going to be dripping from you. He loves coming over your arse, watching those stripes of white paint your red backside.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Azriel doesn’t really like to admit, but he is pretty touch starved. He doesn’t allow many people to touch his wings but the first time you did he came almost immediately. It took a little while for him to build up some stamina with you in that area. 
On a dirtier note…Azriel has a bit of a fantasy of fucking you in the same room as Cassian and Nesta. He loves how feisty Nesta is, knowing she’s a bit of a brat for Cassian. He wants to show off how much of a good girl you are for him, make Cassian Jealous that he can do absolutely anything to you and you’ll thank him for it. He also wants to see you fuck Nesta…whilst he fucks Cass. 
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Azriel is very experienced. He has had a lot of lovers over the years but he is not very experienced in having a long term relationship. That being said, he has taken subs before and is very confident in his abilities to practise BDSM safely and sanely. He takes your comfort very seriously and has experience with many different wants and needs.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Honestly any, but he loves sitting up with you in his lap, either bouncing you up and down on his cock, or having your back pressed against his chest as he cradles you and rubs your clit until you cum. 
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
He can be if he thinks you’re really nervous but mostly he’s in the zone. When he fucks you, he does it right, and he’s concentrating on your pleasure…(or punishment).
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
He keeps things neat down there but he’s not completely hairless. He doesn’t have a preference on whether you choose to shave or not.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Azriel can turn on the romance if need be, but his expertise lies in being a dom, he’s not not romantic…but he’s definitely not sweet and gentle with you.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Azriel masturbates quite frequently. He’s got a high sex drive and so when you’re away or he’s on a mission he won’t think twice before taking himself in his hand. He’s also a fan of masturbating together, and loves pumping his thick cock to the sight of you rubbing your clit, head thrown back in self made ecstasy. 
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
DDLG - I’m a firm believer in daddy!az, he loves to spoil you, he’s not a brat tamer but you’re such a good girl for him that he doesn’t have to be. 
Breeding - I think this is an Illyrian trait that he’s a little ashamed of. He loves pumping you full of cum, and pushing it back in. It gets him all hot and bothered to whisper in your ear how hot he thinks you would look full with his child.
Spanking - This male just can’t leave your ass alone…if your butt is out it’s getting slapped. He loves taking you over his knee, panties on at first then spanking you hard until you soak through the fabric.
Dom/Sub - I think he can switch, and does enjoy subbing occasionally, but mostly likes to see your submission to him. He likes the quiet submission, doing up your shoes, cooking you dinner because you’re just his little girl and need him to help you. He also likes to have you kneel at his side whilst he works, head resting on his knee.
This might be a bit out of pocket but I also think he has a teeny bit of a piss kink, but he keeps this to himself unless you are very adventurous. Look SJM said he was a freak alright but everyones afraid to make him really freaky…..
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
He’s quite a private male so nowhere you’re likely to get caught. He can be swayed…but it’s at your own risk.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Honestly anything turns him on. You could walk past him and he would grab you by the hips, pull you to his chest and ask if you want to play. What really turns him on though is when you initiate. When you crawl into his lap, all shy like, bat your eyelashes and ask him…daddy, can we play? Cauldron, he’ll be hard before you’ve finished asking.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Azriel isn’t into hurting you too much. He finds scratching, blood play, and anything unnecessarily rough too far and he won’t do it unless you eased him into it. His hard no is fire, anything to do with it, candles and wax play…he won’t go there at all. 
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Look, the man is a giver and is good at it, but god does he love a blowjob. Give Azriel a blow job. He wants it. He’d reward you so good for it. He’s gonna cradle your head and stroke your hair while you do it. Please.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
If it’s a special occasion he might take his time with you, fuck you all romantic, turn on the romance so to speak. But he really prefers to set the pace quite quick, it gets him off better and it probably gets you off better too.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Oh yeah. He’s ready to go at any moment. And he’s got a busy job. Rhys asks him to do things on pretty short notice sometimes and he’s not leaving without a quick fuck. But he won’t do anything particularly kinky unless he’s got time for aftercare, he’s discussed what he wants from it, and has your input on everything involved. Your quickies are more like quick vanilla sex, you love it though, any Azriel is good for you. 
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Azriel would not be the kinky male he is if he wasn’t down to experiment. If you have something new for him to try he’s absolutely game, just don’t spring it on him before he’s going away or he’ll be a grumpy boy.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Mm Azriel will last long, but if you touch his wings…man’s going to come prematurely and be sulky about it for the rest of the night. 
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Yes. Azriel has floggers, paddles, ropes, vibrators, (bunny ears and a bunny tail buttplug….). He loves to dress you up. And he’s not shy about using toys to enhance your pleasure. He draws the line at making a mould of his own penis though..and you have asked.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
He’s a massive tease. He’s a condescending, teasing, smug asshole. But if you are desperate enough he will grant you relief. He will also listen seriously if you tell him you’re not in the mood for teasing. He only wants to tease if he knows you’re into it. This is why safewords exist guys. Also, and I can’t stress this enough, I firmly believe he would only tease in the bedroom, he’s not one of these guys that wants to see you mad and gets a kick out of it, I find that kind of man repulsive lowkey.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Let. Azriel. Be. Loud. In. Bed. Quiet in the streets, loud in the sheets baby. But anyway yeah he moans a lot, talks a lot, wants you to know how much you turn him on. And he wants you to be the same. He’s not happy until you’re screaming.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Azriel pretends to be cocky about his body but he’s actually a bit embarrassed about getting fully naked around people. This goes away quite quickly when you start worshipping it with your mouth though–
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Big boy…massive boy…he’s girthy and he’s long and Rhys and Cassian can only look and weep.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
High. He wants you all the time, everyday. The mating frenzy was exhausting, I hope your pussy survived.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Look he’s a male, orgasms make him sleepy, but he won’t sleep until you’re tucked up beside him and comfortable. Mans not happy until his baby’s happy.
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love-is-embarrassing · 5 months
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Tara Carpenter ・゚: *✧・゚
NSFW Alphabet
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Scream Masterlist | Main Masterlist
CW: Fem!Reader, general smut, semi-public sex, masturbation, praise kink, oral, strap-on, vibrator, sexting, scars
Aftercare
Yes! Tara’s so into aftercare. In general you two are so soft and sweet with each other so of course after sex you just want to cuddle up and make sure the other had a good time.
Body part
On you: Your chest. It’s where your heart and your boobs are, how could she not love it?
On herself: She likes her hands, for someone so petite they’re pretty strong. Plus, the effect they have on you doesn’t hurt.
Cum
In theory Tara wouldn’t want to make a mess but when she’s in the moment feeling your cum or seeing her cum on you turns her on so much.
Dirty secret
She likes the idea of getting caught having sex. She doesn’t genuinely want to be, but when she knows there’s a risk of it it’s such a turn on for her. She’s also into the idea of being caught masturbating but only by you, and she has deliberately let that happen before.
Experience 
She’s only had a few hookups but that’s enough for her to know what she’s doing.
Favorite position 
Cowgirl is her favorite, regardless of who’s on top. She likes getting to take charge when she is and, again, she’s fond of your chest so of course she loves watching you bounce on top of her.
Goofy
Serious and emotional sex does happen, but in general the mood is pretty lighthearted, lots of giggling and good-natured teasing is the norm.
Hair
She proffers just a neat trim.
Intimacy 
Your relationship is very sweet and intimate so that shines through in the bedroom, all your actions are filled with so much love and affection.
Jack off
Sometimes. It was more common before you got together. When you start having sex you do it pretty frequently so it’s not often she has to take care of herself.
Kink
She’s got a praise kink, enthusiasm in general turns her on so she adores a vocal and active lover. Once again, she’s also into the idea of getting caught. Besides that she does like testing out other kinks but none have really stuck.
Location 
Having roommates, you’re not only limited to the bedroom, you’re also limited by timing. Because of that (and her aforementioned kink) you do have a lot of semi-public hookups when you get the chance, like at parties for instance.
Motivation 
Kind of obvious, but flirting is how she usually gets in the mood, seeing your sultry side -whether you’re a natural seductress or a total dork- always gets her going.
No
She’s not too into sadism, giving or receiving. Pain play and degradation just kind of put her in a dark headspace.
Oral
She loves giving and receiving oral, what she proffers may change on the day but if she had to pick one: probably giving.
Pace
Kinda medium, maybe a little on the fast end but Tara does like to take her time when she can.
Quickie 
Absolutely. Sometimes you pretty much have to because you’re rushing to finish before your roommates get back.
Risk
As long as the stakes aren’t too high Tara is into some risk-taking. She’s not afraid of getting caught or experimenting, she actually likes the thrill of it.
Stamina 
One round is usually satisfactory but she could easily go a couple more if you felt like it. She has that final girl stamina.
Toy
A strap-on’s the only thing you guys use regularly. You also own a vibrator but it’s more of a special occasion when that comes out.
Unfair
Honestly she teases you more in a non-sexual way. The sexual kind does happen but she can’t really bring herself to deny you for long.
Volume 
She moans, groans and gasps a lot and they’re all pretty loud. It’s always a struggle to keep her quiet when you’re in a riskier location.
Wild card
You two sext a lot, usually initiated by her, often when you least expect it.
X-Ray
She has a lot of scars on her tiny body, and though she isn’t especially insecure about them she does appreciate confirmation that you find her attractive under her clothes, whether that’s through praise or the lustful way you look at her.
Yearning 
Her libido’s a bit on the high side. She doesn’t try to get in your pants every time she sees you or anything, but ideally she’d like to at least a couple times a week.
Zzz
She loves falling asleep together afterwards, or if not at least cuddling and talking for a while. Either way she doesn’t want to leave the bed too soon.
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asterlark · 6 months
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me and den @unloneliest were just talking about murderbot and ART's relationship and i want to discuss how they quite literally complete each other's sensory and emotional experience of the world!!
there's a few great posts on here such as this one about how murderbot uses drones to fully and properly experience the world around it (it also accesses security cameras/other systems for this same purpose). but i haven't seen anyone so far talk about how once MB stops working for the company and consequently doesn't have a hubsystem/secsystem to connect to anymore (which for its entire existence up to that point had been how it was used to interacting with its environment/doing its job), after it meets ART, ART starts to fill that gap.
ART gives MB access to more cameras, systems, and information archives than it would normally be able to connect with while MB is on its own outside of ART's... body(? lol), but also directly gives MB access to its own cameras, drones, archives, facilities, and processing space. additionally, so much of ART's function is dedicated to analysis, lateral thinking, and logical reasoning, and it not only uses those skills in service of reaching murderbot's goals, it teaches murderbot how to use those same skills. (ART might be a bit of an asshole about how it does this, but that doesn't negate just how much it does for murderbot for no reason other than it's bored/interested in MB as an individual.)
we all love goofing about how artificial condition can basically be boiled down to "two robots in a trench coat trying to get through a job interview" (which is entirely accurate tbh) but that's also such a great example of ART fulfilling the role of both murderbot's "hubsystem" and "secsystem", allowing it to fully experience its environment/ succeed in its goals. ART provides MB with crucial information, context, and constructive criticism, and uses its significant processing power to act as MB's backup and support system while they work together.
from ART's side of things, we get a very explicit explanation of how it needs the context of murderbot's emotional reactions to media in order to fully understand and experience the media as intended. it tried to watch media with its humans, and it didn't completely understand just by studying their reactions. but when it's in a feed connection with murderbot, who isn't human but has human neural tissue, ART is finally able to thoroughly process the emotional aspects of media (side note, once it actually understands the emotional stakes in a way that makes sense for it, it's so frightened by the possibility of the fictional ship/crew in worldhoppers being catastrophically injured or killed that it makes murderbot pause for a significant amount of time before it feels prepared to go on. like!! ART really fucking loves its crew, that is all).
looking at things further from ART's perspective: its relationship with murderbot is ostensibly the very first relationship it's been able to establish with not only someone outside of its crew, but also with any construct at all. while ART loves its crew very much (see previous point re: being so so scared for the fate of the fictional crew of worldhoppers), it never had a choice in forming relationships with them. it was quite literally programmed to build those relationships with its crew and students. ART loves its function, its job, and nearly all of the humans that spend time inside of it, but its relationship with murderbot is the first time it's able to choose to make a new friend. that new friend is also someone who, due to its partial machine intelligence, is able to understand and know ART on a whole other level of intimacy that humans simply aren't capable of. (that part goes for murderbot, too, obviously; ART is its first actual friend outside of the presaux team, and its first bot friend ever.)
and because murderbot is murderbot, and not a "nice/polite to ART most of the time" human, this is also one of the first times that ART gets real feedback from a friend about the ways that its actions impact others. after the whole situation in network effect, when the truth of the kidnapping comes to light and murderbot hides in the bathroom refusing to talk to ART (and admittedly ART doesn't handle this well lol) - ART is forced to confront that despite it making the only call it felt able to make in that horrifying situation, despite it thinking that that was the right call, its actions hurt murderbot, and several other humans were caught in the crossfire. what's most scary to ART in that moment is the idea that murderbot might never forgive it, might never want to talk to it again. it's already so attached to this friendship, so concerned with murderbot's wellbeing, that the thought of that friendship being over because of its own behavior is terrifying. (to me, this almost mirrors murderbot's complete emotional collapse when it thinks that ART has been killed. the other more overt mirror is ART fully intending on bombing the colony to get murderbot back.)
in den's words, they both increase the other's capacity to feel: ART by acting as a part of murderbot's sensory system, and murderbot by acting as a means by which ART can access emotion. they love one another so much they would do pretty much anything to keep each other safe/avenge each other, but what's more, they unequivocally make each other more whole.
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fl3shm4id3n · 7 months
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ₜₕₑ ₗₒᵥₑᵣₛ
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𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐀𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐂𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐫, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐰𝐧. 𝐀𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝, 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫. 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭, 𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐰𝐧 𝐬𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫.
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: (ᴘᴀꜱᴛ) ᴀꜱᴛᴀʀɪᴏɴ x ꜰᴇᴍ! ᴠᴀᴍᴘɪʀᴇ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ᴀꜱᴛᴀʀɪᴏɴ x ꜰᴇᴍ! ᴛᴀᴠ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
Tw: Star-crossed lovers concept, Cazador, vampirism, medieval sexism, abuse of any kind, manipulation , blood, torture, torment, violence, suicide attempt/mentioned, mentions of intimacy, death, murder, stake to the heart, angst, reincarnation. Not edited, pictures ain't mine, I got them off Pinterest.
Masterlist
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Your whole life changed when your parents had sent you off to marry some Lord known as Cazador. He had been in search for a concubine. It was pretty normal for noble men to have a concubine. He could have as many as he could afford. Your parents were thrilled by the idea of you, their only daughter being with a powerful Lord. As much as you didn't to, you had to. It was your duty as their child to follow their orders. Whatever they say, goes. It was settled then, you were going to become Lord Cazador's concubine for as long as he lives. That day that you left your home, was the same day you never saw your parents again. His castle was strange, his servants were strange. They were like puppets that only followed their master's word.
The first couple months weren't so bad. Cazador was respectful, and he had given you time to adjust to your new life. He had began to spoil you, giving you things that you'd never thought you've ever see in your eyes. From the finest tailored dresses, to jewelry, makeup, books, and so on. You were basically given the life that many girls would dream off. Despite all that, it still felt strange, as if something was wrong, but you didn't put to much mind into it. You passed it as if you were home sick. As much as you tried to ignore it, the worry got bigger, as if it was a weight on your shoulders getting much heavier and heavier throughout the weeks. One night Cazador had decided to make you his. You felt nervous since you've never been with a man in your life. But that night, would be the one you'd remember for the rest of your immortal life.
Its already been years, those years became centuries. You were still Cazador's concubine. Everyday you'd wake up and just have the though of what Cazador would have planned that night. It was a routine that just kept on going. You'd wake up, and have the maid spawns come dress you. You no longer had a choice on what you could wear. It was all Cazador, he'd pick everything about your look for the night, from dresses, shoes, makeup art, hair style, jewelry and hair. Everything was either a blood red or black. His favorite colors. If you refused to wear what he'd pick out for you, then you'd wear nothing. You'd remain bare until you've learn to appreciate what he does for you. That was a way to manipulate you, he made you think that he did so much for you and the least you could do is learn to be more appreciative of what he has given you.
Its been a while since you've seen your reflection. You've almost forgot how you'd look like. Sometimes you'd spend hours and hours looking in the mirror, trying to form on how you'd look like before, but nothing. You'd just see the furniture in your room along with other things in the room. As some kind of gift, Cazador had commissioned a painting of you, he's often tell how generous he was and how he didn't have to do this. You were dressed like the night that you had been turned into a vampire spawn. Sitting still as the artist painted your every detail. You'd look at that picture as if it was the only thing keeping you alive. That painting made you remember on how your face might have looked like. But there was one thing that you didn't like, and that was the scar on your left side of your neck. It was a scar, caused by Cazador's bite of that night. It may have been a small detail, but it was noticeable. It was also some kind of reminder of what he had done to you. Everything you'd see that small bit of the painting, you'd feel a sharp pain on your neck, right on your now scarred side. Sometimes you wish you could cover it, but due to the dresses you wore, you weren't able to.
Whenever you'd disagree with Cazador on something, he'd threated to burn the picture and to never get you a new one. You'd often cry and beg on your knees for him not to do it, also to forgive you for speaking out of term. He seemed to love making you cry, he'd watch how the makeup would roll down your cheeks, messing it up and how you were on your knees with your head on the floor, begging or how'd you'd hug his knees and cry in desperation. It was some kind of sickening pleasure of his. He also love to torment you to the point that you have a breakdown. It would happen constantly, you'd never catch a break.
Not only that, but you were force to learn how to play instruments. As a way to entertain yourself and Cazador. When it came to string instruments, he'd have you play for hours and hours until your hands sore. If you'd mess up a note, you were force to restart and play the instrument until the tips of your fingers bled, even your nails would break and dig into your already cut and bleeding skin. When you were done, your hands would be shaking and raw, with blood running down your hands and fingers. You also liked to embroid, or at least he liked how you'd embroid. If he didn't like the work, he'd have you start all over again, or he'd make you sew until you hands were weak. He just loved seen you in pain. He loved watching you tear up as you sewed and played instruments, in pain. As a way to 'heal' you, Cazador would lick and bite at your bleeding fingers, to add to the pain.
Some nights you wished you could just walked into the sun, but that was impossible. Most of the night you'd be in your room. For hours, only coming out when Cazador would want you to, he'd basically keep you locked in. You barely spook to the spawns at times. Sometimes you'd write down notes and slide them under the door for the spawns to see. This was a form of punishment, even though you didn't do anything to get punished. Not just that but the only way for you to have blood was by begging for him to allow you to feed, he'd leave you starving for days until you were fed up and needed a doze of blood. But he'd have you drink the blood from his mouth, as much as you didn't want to, you did. You had the choice to just stop feeding and either go insane and violent. But you knew he wasn't going to allow you to do that. If you attempted to, it'd become worse.
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One night things were different, Cazador had been gone for a while. You assumed he was probably looking for another mortal to fall for his trap and make him another spawn. That night you were in your room again, looking at the empty mirror as if you were trying to find yourself again, but you knew that was useless. Then Cazador bursted in the room. Causing you to flinch an grip onto your clasped hands much harder, digging your nails into your skin, fearing that he might due something to you, again. Then he introduced you to his new spawn. A man. He was in his late thirties, with brown hair, pale complexation, green eyes and his clothes were dirty, as if he was covered in dirt. You noticed that his right side of his neck had wound, a bite. That was already scaring. The other spawns didn't have those markings. Except for you and now him. You learned that his name was Astarion.
Once you were introduced, he made his new spawn get on his knees and kiss the toe of your shoe. This was something he'd have his spawns do, just to see them on their knees, humiliating themselves, by kissing the toes of your shoes. You'd often say that you were his one and only high raking 'Spawn Concubine'. As much as you didn't want him to go through that humiliation, he did so anyways. He already seemed scared of Cazador and what he'd do if he didn't do what he wanted. As he began to get up from his knees, you and him locked eyes. You could see the fear in each other's eyes, as if it was reflecting. You were both scared of him. And he knew it. Not only that, but he loved to see the fear that you both had.
That same night in your room, you could hear the screaming happening in the cellar and the smell of blood. You could hear how Cazador was already 'branding' his knew spawn, just like the others. You didn't get branded like they did, he'd explained to you that you're above the spawns and there for you shouldn't be branded, besides. He had already branded you. It was a reminder on your neck. For the attire night you could hear the screams echoing through the castle, as much as you wanted to not hear it, you weren't able to muffle out the noises. You felt horrible not being able to stop Cazador's torture. Last time you attempted to, was bad.
Then Cazador had come up with a great idea, his new pet, would now be in charge of going out and bringing back a prey for him and you feed on. He believed that Astarion had the perfect face to lure in any person he got his eyes on. Astarion tried to refuse and disobey, as a punishment, he locked him up in a cellar for over a whole year. With no light what so ever. You had tried and asking Cazador to please let him out, but he refused to listen. You were his concubine, not his wife. He never made you his wife, because he knew that if he did, he'd have to treat you as his equal. So he never married you, he only kept you as his concubine, as his possession for his pleasures. Finally, Astarion had been out of the cell, except his appearance changed. His once brown hair was now white and his once green eyes were now a blood red. That whole year in the cellar had changed him. Since then on, he began to obey his master.
So he began to bring back a prey, either a man or a woman. Cazador would be pleased with this, and would 'reward' him by giving him a rat to feed of. If Astarion refused to eat the rat, then he'd be killed by the other brainless spawns. You and Cazador would feed from the victim, together. He'd go for the neck and you'd go for the wrists, you were never allowed to go for the neck, if you did. Then you'd be punished severely. He'd just add that you should be greatful that you're allowed to feed. Some victims he'd keep as his spawns and others he'd kill just for his fun. This went on for a couple of years.
During those years, you had actually grown close to Astarion. You knew he only did what he did for survival, like you. You normally wouldn't ask Cazador for anything, but you had asked him if Astarion could he your personal servant, when he isn't out getting a prey. He found it odd, but allowed it. He saw no harm in that. So you had Astarion be with you for most of the evening and nights he wasn't out. He was shy at first, he thought that you too were like Cazador, due to his master's concubine and because you had a much higher rank. Except you were different. You too were a victim, except you weren't treated as a spawn, but a possession.
Him and you did a lot of things that you'd normally do on a daily. When you'd practice playing an instrument, Astarion would watch and listen to you. He too began to learn to play when you had offered to teach him. Same with reading, you'd read him books that Cazador had given you throughout the centuries. This was something new to Astarion, ever since he was brought by Cazador, he'd be constantly tormented by him. Until you had stepped in and asked for him to be with you at all times. When he wasn't out. Not only that, but you were kind to him, at first he thought you were the same as his master, but no. You were way different than the man you both feared.
Astarion loved to spend his time with you, it gave him some reason to not give up. Your kindness was keeping him alive in a way. At times when you weren't together, he'd be staring at the painting of you, hanged in the middle of the stairs of the castle. The way that you were painted was angelic like, you looked like a Queen. But he also noticed the same scar on your neck. Of course he knew that it was Cazador's doing. Besides that, you were just so beautiful. He almost couldn't believe that you were kind to him. Every time he'd be back from getting a prey, he always looked forward into being with you for a couple of days.
You were surprised Cazador had allowed this in the first place. Because you were often kept isolated front he other spawns and weren't really allowed to form any kind of friendship with them. That's the biggest reason why you'd be locked up in your room and barely able to speak with them. But Astarion seemed to be the only one you were allowed to speak to, for a while before he becomes a brainless spawns like the others. You hoped that it didn't lead to that. You really liked your new friend, it was as if you and him had formed a bond. A friendly one at that, but you felt more towards the now white haired male. It felt wrong in a way, but at the same time.
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That evening was a nice one, you were doing your needle work with Astarion. Working on a black shirt that belonged to Cazador. You were sewing with a gold colored threat. Making flowers. That night Astarion didn't have to go to get prey. It was a nice and quiet, and no Cazador lurking by, since he had to take care of some 'business'. You were used to him disappearing out of nowhere with the excuse of being busy. You were to focused on the peacock you were working on while Astarion tried to follow your lead. You began to teach him how to embroider since he had asked and he was curious on your handy work. He had seen your work, specially on his Master's clothing.
Astarion was focused on the cloth in the hoop, trying to match the flower that you were making. Then he pinched his finger with the needle. Hissing in pain and dropping the hoop. You stopped what you were doing, looking over to him. You placed the shirt down and moved over towards Astarion. "Let me see." You said, then you took his bleeding finger into your hands too look at it. "I'm fine my lady." He said, respectfully. Watching you care for his pricked finger. You then leaned down and gave his injured finger a kiss. He felt his face heat up, by this gesture. You've done this so many times, and yet it feels like the first time. You didn't seem to mind getting blood on your perfectly red painted lips. You looked over at him and smiled. "Better?" you asked him, seen the flush look on his face, he nodded almost shyly like the first time you met.
You both locked eyes. Remaining frozen as you both looked at one another. You didn't even realize how you and him began to lean into one another. Slowly closing your eyes, then you both kissed. Your cold lips molding into one another's, softly. You've never been kissed this nice and sweet before. Cazador was rough and impressment. But Astarion? He was slow and passionate. You placed your hands on his shoulders, as a way to hold onto each other. He then snaked his hand at the back of your head, carefully holding your head up. Not wanting to mess up your perfectly combed hair with many hair pens and other flowers adorned to it.
The kiss was short, you pulled away and looked at him. He did the same. You didn't have to exchange words, it was clear that you and him loved that kiss. And you wanted to kiss him again. So you did, you kissed him again, a bit more eager this time. He followed your lead. You both completely forgot about what you were doing before. Now you were focused on this. You laid your body on the soft cushion of the couch. Pulling Astation on top of you. He didn't hesitate to get on top of you. He placed himself between your legs. As he continued to kiss you, more deeply. Then you ran your hand up his white shirt, feeling his cold skin against your cold fingers. Slightly touching his scarred back. Asatrion was too caught up in the moment to care, he took began to slide his hand up your skirt. Feeling your soft and delicate skin. He then pulled away and look at you.
You had a look of concern. "I'm sorry, did I do something wrong?" you asked nervously. "No, it's just. I don't want to take advantage of you. I wouldn't want to do something that might hurt you." He explained, you knew what he said was true. You placed your hands on both sides of his cheeks. "It's okay, I want this to happen. But if you don't, then I understand." You responded, with a small smile, as a way to comfort him. "I do too, but before we go any further. Please tell me that I have your consent. I wouldn't want you to be hurt... like he has hurt you..." he said worriedly. It was no secret that Cazador always got what he wanted no matter what. You understood why he'd ask for your consent. "You have my consent, but I have yours?" You asked him, it was only fair that you'd asked for his since he asked for yours. Astarion gave you a genuine smile. "Yes, you have my consent." He responded. Then you and him went back into kissing on another. You were too focused on one another that you didn't even noticed that you were actually being watched.
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It's been a while since that happened. You'd think about that night a lot. You've never been intimate with anyone, besides Cazador. But this was a new form of intimacy, Astarion actually cared about what you wanted. Unlike his Master who didn't care about anyone but himself. You felt shivered running up your spine, just thinking about Astarion's hands touching your cold skin again. As much as you wanted to do it again, you didn't want to get caught but Cazador and have Asatrion be punished. If anything, you'd be the one to take the punishment instead of him.
Then the doors of your quarters were open, it was Cazador, he looked much calm, very calm. It was almost concerning. "My dear, may I have a word with you?" He asked, you felt a lump build up in your throat and you got nervous. "Yes, what is it?" You asked him, trying to remain calm as possible. "I've heard something from one of the Spawns. That you and Astarion engaged in something, that didn't involve, embroidery." This made your non beating heart sink, now he knew. "Just say yes or no. No need for an explanation. Just yes or no will be fine." He explained to you. There was no hiding it, he knew and you know what happens when you lie to him.
Taking a deep breath, you answered. "Yes, we did, what you think we did." You responded. Cazador only nodded, then he walked closer to you, taking your hands and brought you up from the bed. He looked at your eyes for a moment, then he leaned in for a kiss. That was odd, he was calm? You thought, as he continued to kiss you. Then he pulled away, placing his hand on your cold cheek affectionately. You only stared at him, confused. "How I'm going to miss those eyes." He said, only making you even more confused. Then your eyes widen and tears developed in your eyes. A strong pain grew in your chest.
Looking down, you saw a wooden stake, piercing through the red decorated fabric of the gown. Blood already pooling on your chest. You looked back at Cazador who had a look of displeasure, with the stake in his hand. He pushed it further and pushed you down, making you whimper. Then you fell to your right side, you were having a hard time breathing in pain. You touched the now bloodied stake. Attempting to pull it out, but it was no use, you'll be dead in a bit. Your hands were shaking aggressively. Laying on your back, in pain and tears pooling in your eyes. As you tried to keep your eyes open, it was no use. You were growing weaker by the minute, the last thing you saw was Cazador watching you die as someone had come in to the courters.
As soon as Astarionn saw you on the floor, bloodied. He couldn't help but feel a wave of shock grow in his eyes. He covered in mouth in disbelief. Seen your now deceased corpse on the floor. With a stake to your heart and blood on your beautiful gown. He didn't hesitate going over and pulling you towards him. "No no, my lady." He whimpered, trying to see any sign of life, but nothing. You were gone, forever. "Be grateful that it wasn't you. I wouldn't want to loose you too soon now." Cazador taunted at him. Astation was more focused on you. He felt all sorts of emotions going on in his mind. All he could do is hug you close to him, holding your head near his lips. Trying to process what was happening. He had accidently touched the blood that was pooled on your gown and accidently smeared it on your left side of your face. He couldn't believe what was happening.
He stayed frozen with your body in his arm. Mumbling that he was sorry many times. Wishing that you'd wake up at any moment now. But now, you remained limp, not moving one inch. You were gone, the love of his life, was gone. He was forced by Cazador to let go of your body, he didn't want to. He too wanted to get flayed just to be with you again, but he knew that his master will not allow it. Your body had been burned, along with most of your belongings and such. As a way to erase you for good. Despite burning everything that you owned, that was not going have Astarion forget about you.
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Two centuries had already passed and Astarion had still not forgot about you. You were in his mind for ages, he still remembered your face, smell, voice, everything. He was not going to allow your memory of you to be forgotten. The painting of you had been moved into Cazador's quarters since he had decided to keep it as his biggest trophy. Astarion had got a few glimpses of the painting when entering the room, he hated the fact that he painting was moved. But one night, he got a small sheet of paper and pain, drawing only your face on the painting. He did a decent job drawing your features, they weren't the best, but he did what he could. He also left out the scar on the left side of your neck, knowing that you didn't like that scar. He kept the picture with him at all times. He would spend hours and hours looking at it. He'd tear up almost all the time, allowing his tears to land on the soft vanilla colored paper. Often wishing that it was him who got staked instead of you. You didn't deserve to die so coldly by HIM.
Then he got captured by the mindflayers and things headed towards another direction. He was taken far from Baldur's Gate, with a tadpole inserted in his brain and now he had to find a way to get rid of it. Just great, that's exactly what he just needed. Then he came across a party of people. Maybe he could join them and help them get back to Baldur's Gate, as well as whatever needed to get done. Perhaps he could use his charm for his advantage. It was an easy plan, but then, he set his eyes on their leader. He couldn't believe it, was it possible You had the face of someone he knew, someone he loved many centuries ago. Perhaps, you may remember him in a way? Or did your new life had made you forget about him? Whatever it was, he wanted to be with you in your new life, maybe he could protect you better or even start an actual relationship with you, but will he fall for you or the person that you once were?
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670 notes · View notes
eyesthatroll · 7 months
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SKIN
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pairing luke hughes x fem!reader
summary a late night at home with luke
warning(s) fluff, allusion/mention of smut (barely detailed), not sure what else
word count 1.1k
authors note this piece of writing for luke is probably my favorite i’ve ever written. i truly hope you all enjoy it as much as i do, and as always, any reblogs or constructive criticism is always appreciated <3 — mari
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Your fingers navigated the intricate landscape of Luke's curls, a delicate dance that involved caressing the wild tangles, and occasionally tugging at the ends, your nails gently tracing across his scalp. Each pass of your fingertips sent shivers down his spine, evoking soft, contented sighs from him that whispered against your skin. He rested atop you, almost as if he'd melded with your form, his lean legs sprawled languidly over yours, the weight of his body a comforting anchor. His strong arms encircled your waist, offering both a sense of security and profound connection, radiating a warmth that permeated through your skin and enveloped your core. His head had found its sanctuary on your chest, rising and falling in perfect synchrony with your exhaled breaths and rhythm of your heartbeat.
As he drifted deeper into slumber, light snores occasionally escaped his parted lips, an endearing reminder of his peaceful surrender to rest. The muted tones of Sportscenter played softly in the background, an unobtrusive soundtrack to your shared moment, its distant glow casting a soft, blueish hue across your cozy space. You watch the screen with detached interest, not particularly invested in the broadcast, but unwilling to disrupt the stillness of the moment by searching for the remote, which had become an inconsequential trinket in this oasis of tranquility, where the world outside now ceased to matter.
Luke had made an impromptu visit to your apartment a few hours ago, his face illuminated by the glow of victory after his team's hard-fought win against the Rangers. The game had been a grueling, high-stakes battle that culminated in a rousing 6-5 overtime victory. You had been engrossed in the game on your laptop, the backdrop to your frantic efforts to complete some last-minute schoolwork.
As you watched, your heart had soared with pride for the boys on the ice, but it was Luke who had truly captured your admiration. He had been a standout player, netting a crucial goal and tallying four points in total. The achievement had warmed your heart to its core, but what had touched you even more was his choice to celebrate this victory with you. Rather than joining his teammates for a night out at the bar, he had chosen the intimacy of your company, a gesture that spoke volumes about the way he truly felt about you.
Together, you began the lovely task of preparing his favorite meal, fettuccine alfredo. As the savory aroma of the sauce filled the kitchen, the two of you effortlessly slipped into your own enchanting world. Lost in each other's gaze, you began a spontaneous slow dance to the soulful notes of 'Dijon's "Skin," which played softly through your speaker. You melted into his comforting touch, finding solace in the circle of his arms as you both moved gracefully, an intimate dance within the confines of your small kitchen. His chin rested tenderly atop your head, and in that fleeting moment, you yearned for time to stand still, allowing you to exist forever within this embrace. In this singular instance, worries and work faded away, leaving only the idyllic essence of your love, encapsulated in the gentle sway of your bodies to the sweet strains of a love ballad.
The soft glow of the living room provided a warm ambience, while Fast and Furious: Tokyo Drift played quietly on the television. As the two of you indulged in your meals, Luke explained some of the inner workings of tonights game during the commercials, giving you an added appreciation for how arduous the win truly was. You couldn't help but appreciate the way his eyes lit up as he spoke of his teammates' accomplishments, his humility shining through as he downplayed his own success from the night.
It didn't take long before the chemistry between you two grew palpable, and the desire became irresistible. You eventually abandoned the living room for the intimacy of your bedroom, eager to express your deep affection for each other in the tender embrace of the tangled sheets beneath your duvet.
Tonight was a celebration of him, and the man he was. You desired to cater to him, to convey your adoration not through mere words but through actions. To show how proud you were of him and and how deeply your love for him ran.
The sex was lazy and passionate, you doing most of the work as his energy was waning. He planted soft, wet kisses on your neck as you rode him through his orgasm, his soft whimpering of your name prompting your own release. You fell on top of him with a quiet moan, and his hands reached against your back, massaging the sweat stricken skin as he murmured praises into your ear.
The two of you shared a quick shower, washing away the temporary evidence of the heartfelt night you'd shared. You pampered him with your skincare routine, caring for his skin as well as your own. And after brushing your teeth side by side, you both retreated back to the comfort of your bed.
Luke now stirs on top of you, his eyes slowly fluttering open, only to squint in response to the sudden intrusion of light emanating from the television, which now displayed a random informercial.
"I can't believe you're still awake," Luke rasps, his voice a husky mumble from the brink of slumber. His gaze remains fixed on your intertwined bodies, not lifting to meet your eyes. Slipping his hand under your shirt, his fingers trace aimless patterns on your stomach, a gentle and affectionate touch in the quiet intimacy of the night.
A soft smile graces your lips. "I like to watch you sleep."
He snorts, and you feel the rumble of his laughter resonate through his chest against your body. "Such a creep," he teases, his voice filled with fondness.
An involuntary yawn escapes your lips, and as you turn to glance at the alarm clock on your bedside table, your eyes widen at the time displayed – two am. Had you really been laying here, running your hands through Luke's hair for an hour and a half?
He rises from his sprawled position on top of you, unfolding his frame with a contented stretch. His bare feet meet the cool, unforgiving embrace of the hardwood floor with a soft thud as he ambles towards the bathroom. In the dim light, you seize the moment to search beneath the tangled sheets for the TV remote, waiting until Luke returns, before extinguishing the screen.
Another yawn escapes from your lips, marking the shift in positions as Luke draws you close against his chest. Nestling into his side, you're serenaded by the gentle metre of his heartbeat, its soothing echo resonating in your ear.
"Go to sleep, baby, I know you're tired."
You hum in response, finally content with allowing your eyes to close.
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848 notes · View notes
somnambulic-thing · 8 months
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warm like moonshine
vampire boyfriend!Eddie x afab!reader E 18+, smut!!!
Words: 4k
|consensual somnophilia/reader receiving; awake sex; biting/blood drinking; established relationship; oral; piv; exploring intimacy; vampire puns!; fluff, Eddie pov|
A/N: So, well, @courtingchaos put out her leg with this sleepy story (go read) and I tripped over it and fell right into this scenario. I had a lot of vampire!Eddie thoughts lately and playing around with vampire anatomy and what one could get up to with one's very own bloodsucker is a very fun rabbit hole to fall into. :3 Probably not the last thing I wrote in this universe.
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Eddie was cold.
Not by Vampire standards, mind, but it wasn’t another Vampire that his freak-of-nature heart was beating for.
It was beating for a human. It was beating for you.
From his past life, Eddie remembered very well how constant cold could grind on a soul inhabiting a body that was hot-blooded and conditioned to flee from it.
But luckily he was only cold unless he did something about it. Finding new ways to do something about it had grown to become one of his favourite pastimes since you came into his life.
His peculiar skin was like smooth polished stone stretched thin and pliable over lean muscle and once he warmed up, much like a slab of granite in the sun, he could hold it for a while. Hours if he had the right insulation.
The sun wasn’t an option for him anymore, no. It was out to erode him if he bared himself long enough to its rays. But a hot bath worked wonders to get warm and cosy for you, or some time spent with a hot water bottle tucked under a blanket.
His favourite way though, was being tucked under you, skin on skin, chests pressed flush together.
It was something divine, feeling his body heat up through the energy radiating from yours. When you eventually had to climb off his lap, leaving him in bed to do some of those things Vampires had no need or urge for, he could press a cool hand to his chest and still feel you with him.
You indulged him in that more often than he should let you. Spending all this time being cold just to be with him.
As feral as he was for basking in you, he just wanted to be hot for you in every way and that right from the start.
So he made a proposal to you.
A way he could fuck you with your own heat without you having to feel cold for one second.
A thought turned into desire during those nights he spent next to your warm, sleeping body with plenty of time to imagine all those things he wanted to do to you.
He was careful in choosing his words, determined to convey that he would rather plunge a stake through his own chest than do anything to injure or violate you; body or soul.
The quickening of your pulse brought no anxiety to your eyes. He hadn’t scared you, more so, you were intrigued and he drew a deep breath of relief. An old habit.
You took time to think it over, to get familiar with the idea and develop your own fantasies while mapping out boundaries. Again and again you asked him to lead you through what had become a shared fantasy now and he gave you everything you asked for and as long as you needed.
He knew he was a dangerous creature, there was no use denying it. Making sure you knew he wasn’t a threat was imperative and your trust the most precious thing he’d ever own.
Sunrise was near.
“You coming over tonight?” you asked as you watched him get ready to leave you to the things sunlight-dwellers got up to in the bright hours of the day.
Eddie, about to button his jeans, looked up and over to you seated on the edge of the bed across the room. Something in your voice called the hair on his neck to attention. Your already raised pulse quickened under his gaze. He cocked his head, all his senses reaching out to your body. You suddenly smelled so aroused it was obscene.
“Stop dissecting me, Munson.”
He shook his head to clear it with moderate success.  “Sorry… couldn’t help it.” He laughed deeply, the sound thick and sticky. “I’m putting on my clothes and suddenly you just smell like that—”
“Monster,” you smiled. “Can’t surprise you with anything.”
“Well, that’s not true.” He put his shirt on and crossed the room. It was probably a bad idea to kneel before you now with sunrise so close while you still looked so tousled and sleepy and smelled so sinfully horny, but he did it anyway. Your hand instantly found his face. He was already cooling down and the soft slide of your thumb left a streak of warmth high on his cheek. “You surprise me all the time. It’s just… different.”
“I know.”
“I wasn’t trying to pry, promise.”
“I know.” You cocked your head. “So, are you busy tonight?”
“Hmm,” he hummed in affirmation turned his face into your palm and kissed it. “First band, then blood and coffee with Wayne.”
“Oh, right. Okay.”
“You gonna tell me why, sweetheart?”
“No,” you said with an enigmatic smile. It took all of his willpower to draw his ‘antennas’ back from you, but nothing could drown out this smell.
He was getting hungry. He was getting hard.
You bent down and slowly slid your arms around his neck, nails softly scraping the nape of his neck and your forehead found his, hot like a fever. “Not right now anyway.”
“Wow… who is the monster now, hm?”
Your laugh was infectious, had made him sick with adoration for you right from the start. He caught your mouth to get more of it right from the source. Soon he wouldn’t be strong enough to leave.
And you knew it.
“You should go,” you mumbled. Your palms were like hearths against his shoulders, pushing with little determination. “Before I pull you in here and you’re stuck until sunset.”
“Pull me in then, I don’t mind.” He ran his palms up your bare thighs, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind.
“Fuuuck, Eddie…”
“’Fuck Eddie’ sounds like a great idea to me.”
“If I fuck you now, you’re not leaving and we both know I get nothing done with you flapping around here and there are plenty of things I need to do today.”
Eddie let his curled-up lips glide over the edge of your jaw all the way to the soft hot spot below your ear where your pulse was a torrent. His teeth were aching.
“I want to do you so bad right now,” he whispered and felt the moan leaving your lungs hot against his shoulder.
“Don’t make me get the garlic.”
“Just one sip from your Holy Water, baby, I know you’re drenched right now—”
You threw your head back and slumped against his chest as you erupted into bellowing laughter.
He’d hoped to make you scream in a different way but he’d take it anyway. Wrapping his arms around you he pulled you to his lap and joined you in your laughing fit.
“Was worth a try,” he chuckled against your collarbone as you both came down.
“You nearly ended me with that one.”
He felt your hot mouth press against his crown and then you leaned back and moved to stand up.
“Oh, cruel world,” he said, more whiny than intended and pushed himself to stand. Outside, the sky was that dim clear blue that was the harbinger of a sunny September day. “Guess I better get going then.” His hands fisted the hem of your shirt and pulled you in for one more kiss.
“Gonna miss you, bat-man.”
“Hmm,” he hummed, hypnotized by the soft, bittersweet melody that was your good-bye voice. “Love you, moonshine.”
Eddie mourned your warmth leaving his body as he hurried through slowly awakening streets to outrun the dawn. And oh, how he longed for it when he touched himself in the dark of his room, how he craved it when the high induced by heavy, distorted riffs surged through him like a lightning strike and how he needed it when he stepped outside into a night that was as cold as himself.
Fuck. He was so needy.
So he called Wayne; he would be an hour late today and now Eddie had almost two hours to spare. Determined to spend as many seconds as possible joined with you, he once more hurried along through mostly vacant streets.
Eddie wore the key to your place on a chain around his neck together with his favorite guitar pick. He fiddled with it while he took a moment to calm himself before he took it off and slid it into the lock; he had no intention of giving you a jumpscare barging in like a starving beast.
Your smell instantly exploded into his face the moment the door cracked open. He expanded his ribcage to the limit, inhaling the amalgamation that was the scent of your home through flared nostrils as he stepped inside and closed the door behind him and—
Taped to the wall opposite the door was a note.
It was fully dark inside, but Eddie needed no light to read it. Hell, he would have been able to take a good guess about the content just from the scent alone. You had touched yourself before you put it up for him, knowing very well he wouldn’t be able to stay away for long after this morning and the smell of your cunt was all over the paper.
He got hard so fast it was painful.
Eddie let his head drop against the wall, the paper right under his nose. He needed to close his eyes for a moment.
My dear Count,
I invite you in.
You don’t have to wake me first.
I trust you.
I love you
He could hear your slow, even breath call for him from your bedroom.
Eddie stripped naked right on the spot and kicked the heap of clothes that pooled by his feet under the dresser in the hall. He had learned his lesson not to leave tripping hazards in the dark for you the hard way.
The door was ajar, the room behind dimly lit by the waning moon and the street lights outside your window. It was warm in here, unusually so, and Eddie smiled brightly in the dark.
“So clever. Sooo, so clever.”
He silently moved to the foot of the bed. You were turned to your side and almost fully covered but he still took his time studying you. Your features were so soft, all your muscles relaxed and your heartbeat steady and serene.
He started stroking himself slowly, hissing at the touch, while he reached for the covers with his free hand and with a gentle pull, Eddie revealed your bare skin inch by inch.
You had made it easy for him, going to bed naked and wet.
“Oh, sweetheart. What you do to me…”
One knee to the mattress, then the other and then he lowered himself, crawling up your body while the tip of his tongue grazed over the length of your calf and up up to your thigh, over your hip and further up and there you stirred a little.
“I know, it’s cold,” he said, licking his lips, relishing your taste for a moment before he pushed himself up to your ear. “I’m about to change that. Suck up your heat and give it back to you so good. Gonna make you sweat…”
There was no need to whisper. You wouldn’t wake from his words.
It was his special voice he used; the one that could put a vampire’s prey into a trance. It was never without your permission when he spoke to you that way, was reserved for sacred moments like when you let him drink from your blood. .
He gave you just a little dose, just enough to keep you in a slumber. For now.
“No need to rouse yet, my love,” he said as he receded back down your body, peppering your skin with cool kisses. “M’ making sure you’ll wake when it’s time.”
Sitting back on his calves, he smoothed one hand over the curve of your hip in ever-growing circles, your bed-warm skin so hot against his. When the circles reached the meat of your ass, he stilled to gently squeeze you, coaxing a soft, low noise from your lips, making his cock twitch angrily. He wrapped his warmed hand around it and squeezed, oh so desperate to be surrounded by your heat.
“Fuck,” he moaned. “So good…”
He slowly turned you to your back with gentle hands and endless admiration, all his senses as sharp as his teeth, not missing anything. He was greedy to get between your thighs, to spread you open wide before him and drink you in, scent and taste and everything you would give him but this was a matter of slow and gentle things, a time for worship.
There would be time for debauchery soon enough.
Still, he couldn’t bite back the growl rising in his throat when he finally sat between your thighs and why should he? You so loved it when he growled and hissed, when he let out his feral side.
His mouth watered, and his teeth ached as he smoothed his hands up over the hot insides of your thighs, thumbs digging in lightly over where large arteries pumped your blood a little faster now.
“Beautiful,” he muttered. “So fucking divine.”
He lowered himself to his stomach, breathing deep through his nose for the first time since he turned you over.
Your scent made him drool.
Spit dribbled down his chin and to the sheet and Eddie ached to taste you and make you feel good, to mix his spit with your slick but his tongue was still too cold. But his fingers weren’t.
Averting his face from your pussy, he pressed his open mouth to your thigh. Your skin there was so hot, that this wouldn’t take to long and while he licked and sucked and kissed your legs with something else in mind, his thumb found your clit and drew soft circles around it. You sighed, hips stuttering and Eddie bared his teeth, indulging in grazing his fangs over your sensitive skin for a moment as he worked himself up up up and your clit between the slide two fingers.
You were so wet for him.
He moaned and you mewled when he finally sucked one of your swollen lips into his mouth.
“You taste so fucking good,” he almost whined and exchanged his fingers with his tongue. “All of you, just all of you… I want to devour you…” he mumbled into your folds and slid two fingers inside you where your pulse beat fast against the pads of his fingers. He could feel you tense around them as he started to stroke that spot.
You had been closer to the surface for a while and he took short breaks every now and then to talk to you to make sure you didn't came too close to it just yet, but not as deep as you had been when he’d found you. This seemed to be the sweet spot, awake enough for your body to enjoy what he did to you.
He needed to fuck you so bad.
Eddie ground his hips into the mattress, the sheet damp where the tip rubbed against it. He shuffled around and shoved his hand under his own hips, nice and warm from resting under your ass for a while. He groaned into your cunt as his fingers wrapped around his cock, a loud, hoarse sound and you lolled your head to the side, fingers scraping against the sheet.
“Hmm… E-eddie…”
Just an unconscious whisper, featherlight, but enough to break him.
He peeled his mouth away from you with effort and sat up.
“You awake, sweetheart?” he asked as he slid his hands under your knees and brought them up, draping them over his thighs. “No?” he ran his hands down his body, warm from you and the bed.
“Soon… so soon…” Gripping his cock, he ran his tip through your folds, moaning and cursing. “Can’t wait to look into your eyes…” He lined up with your hole and pushed in. Slowly, slowly, ready to retreat at the slightest sign of discomfort. Your brows drew together, your chest hitched and he reached down to softly play with a hard nipple. “Does this feel good?” he asked through his teeth. “You’re making that pretty face… fuck…”
He threw his head back, fully inside you and you still felt so hot, but he was warm and it was time to fuck you awake now. Eddie lowered himself over your chest, resting his forearms on the mattress, the tips of his hair grazing your skin and he slowly rolled his hips in shallow, aimed thrusts. Slow and steady, in and out, in and you sighed and out and your mouth parted and in and you licked your lips and out and your thighs squeezed him. Eddie picked up speed.
“Hmmm…ngh… Ed?”
“There you are,” he said and pushed in deep.
“Ah—“
And again. “Come to me, sweetheart. Join the fun.”
Your hand came up, waving around aimlessly before it landed on his biceps. “F’ck…”
“Good?” He brushed hair off your forehead. You were sweating now, just a thin sheen but he’d just started. “You feel so good—“
“Eddie…” Slow and drawled. “Fuck… what…”
He laughed and picked up speed again. You tilted your hips up and he reached so deep. “Holy fuck—“
“Oh g-god…”
“Look at me.”
You shook your head, both hands gripping his arms tight and a long, high sound swelled in your throat.
“Look at me, baby.”
Weak fists pounded against his shoulders. “M’ tryin’… trying… fuck, Eddie…” You opened your eyes, just a little but enough. “You’re so warm…”
And then he lost it.
He needed to be everywhere, touch all of you, taste all of you and held your chin as he lowered his lips to yours to slide his tongue inside your mouth to let you know what he’d done to you. Your hands in his hair pulled on his roots and he knew you knew-
“Can you taste yourself?”
-and your answer a low strangled moan and his pleasure a deep, viscous laugh before he lowered his chest to yours, his face to the crook of your neck and fucked you fucked you fucked you so deep and right where you liked it loved it needed it.
“You’re so tight, you’re gonna come for me already?”
“So… sensitive…”
“I know, I know… Just let go—“
A silent scream, air rushing violently down your throat and then you were twitching under him, writhing under him. He could feel the electricity rush through you, pull on your muscles and clench down down down on his cock-
“You good, moonshine?”
“Don’t stop!”
“Want another one?”
“Yes yes yes yes…”
So he didn’t stop. His mouth pressed against your pulse he gets you there again, lets you shatter again, picks you up again.
Slowing down he pushed up to look at you, to kiss you and praise you and oh the bliss on your face—
“Bite me.”
He groaned, teeth aching instantly.
“Bite me.”
He slowed down more and more and you smiled triumphantly before you cradled his face and lifted your lips to his and he drew back.
“If you want me to bite you, you’ll have to behave.”
“Just one kiss.”
“You know the routine. I need you to calm down.”
“Just one little kiss.”
He stilled his hips and gave you one little kiss that turned deep and bruising, wet and sharp. You bit his lips, three, four times before he pulled back, moaning your name.
“You’re wicked—“
“Bite me.”
“Nope, not with that heart rate. Not turning you into a fountain.“
“But you want to?”
“What? Drink your blood? Nah, but I’d take a glass of orange juice.”
You laughed, a little snort in there and he dropped his forehead to yours. Hot and sweaty against cool and dry.
A sigh. “Fuck that’s good… I’m so hot…”
“Told you I’d make you sweat.”
Your pretty face was a question mark and he laughed.
“Oh right, you were asleep.” You tensed around his cock, eyes wide and pulse picking up again. “That turning you on?”
“So much.”
“Gonna tell you more later… need you to relax now… I want my treat.”
Noses brushing, lips only grazing, Eddie’s hand on your chest, fingers drumming in sync with your heart. He loved it this way, the moment before he breached your skin, soft and silly and needy. You made it easy to forget the violence behind it.
“I love you,” he said in that special voice. It went straight to your eyes, lids suddenly a little heavy. “You know that, right?”
“I do…” You reached up to his face, index finger pushing at his upper lip and he pulled it back for you, knowing what you wanted. The ache in his fangs, already dull and throbbing picked up when you ran your thumb over them. “You’re beautiful, Eddie.”
He caught your wrist and kissed your knuckles before he let you go to put two fingers to your cheek, turning your face to the side, your chin up.
You trembled. Pulse picking up again. He nuzzled his face to your neck.
“Just a little sting, sweetheart. You like when it stings a little, right?”
A nod. His magic doing its work, calming you down. He grazed your neck with his teeth, drooling on your skin.
“Please.”
It was so easy, the way his teeth sank into you, so fast, in and out, just one two three seconds and then his lips closed around the bite and you flooded his mouth, hot and red and sweet. He moaned. Your hands in his hair and your blood in his mouth and he sucked because he needed more and at the same time rolled his hips for the same reason. Slowly, shallow, like in the beginning when you were just waking up to him fucking you.
“You gonna come for me, Eddie?” you breathed, lifting your hips to meet him.
His rhythm faltered, became erratic, so close so close so close andthe heat in his stomach was almost too much almost unbearable and then—
“Come inside me while you drink me.”
And he did, twitching, growling, thrusting deep deep even deeper inside you. He pulled back from your throat, pressed a palm to the bite while he shook, a thin dribble of red escaping him, black in the dim light and you praised him for ruining another set of sheets.
As soon as he came down enough to keep from shaking, his attention was all yours again. He flexed that muscle right under his jaw and a clear, viscous liquid flooded his mouth. He lifted his palm and let it drip to your neck to spread it with his tongue over the bite marks to stop the bleeding. It was instant. In about an hour, there would be nothing left to see. He hummed deep in his chest and kissed each puncture wound before he raised his head to find your face.
“Smile for me.”
And he did, teeth still dripping in blood and you returned the smile You wound your hand into his hair to pull him close and kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips for the second time tonight.
A little later, with your head on his chest and his arms wrapped around you, Eddie’s fingers drew nonsense patterns into your skin with a featherlight touch. He still felt high on you, drunk on you, could still taste your blood on his tongue, could feel his cum sticky on his skin where your thigh was draped over him.
He could cry if he could cry.
“Your fingers are getting cold.”
Startled from his bliss he sighed and lifted his hand.
“Didn’t tell you to stop… feels nice.”
He pressed a kiss to your hair and resumed. Your voice was getting drowsy now.
“How do you feel, sweetheart?”
“M’ tired.” As if in confirmation, you yawned.
“I mean about tonight.”
“Oh,” you stirred, turning your face up to him. “Feelin’ good. Really good.”
“Yeah?”
“Uh-hm… I’d like to do that again,” a pause, “if you like.”
“God, yes.”
“You’re such a cliche… better go check your vampire bingo card…”
You both broke into giggles, soft and warm in the darkness, but yours faded soon as your breath slowed down.
“You’nna stay?” you drawled.
“Yeah, of course. Going nowhere tonight.”
“Good,” he felt you smile against his chest. “What abou’ Wayne?”
“Gonna call him when you’re asleep. Don’t worry.”
He was almost sure you hadn’t really heard his answer anymore, your body feeling asleep again. But then you surprised him.
“Ed?”
“Yeah?”
“You don’t have to wake me before sunrise…”
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