#He's in my brain again and he won't leave
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THE BITCHING PROJECT
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— it's like you were secretly asking for this !! degration kink, rough sex, dubious consent, deflowering, light dumbification, semi-public sex, manipulation ✧ ft.: yandere student council ✧ cast: nerd f!reader
His hand grasps your hair as you choke around his girth. There's tears brimming in your eyes. Anxiety and confusion are washed away by the growing arousal in your stomach—this isn't normal. You've never been treated like this before. He's using your mouth like a ragdoll.
"Fuck," he moans, obsessing over the way your unexperienced tongue lays flat on the underside of his cock. "Such a good fucking bitch. How does it feel with your nose buried in my cock and not some books, huh?"
Nothing prepared you for the way this man is in the dim light: he's unlike his smile like a warm setting sun, hands tender to the brief passing touch, and voice an echo of hope and cheer.
He's fucking your throat like it's his newest assignment. Studiously, he memorises the plump of your lips and the heat in your throat. There's something primal yet meticulous about how he thrusts into your mouth. It's like he's thought this over and over again.
Your hands struggle for grip on his hips; he won't relent in his pace. Dizziness presents as you can't think straight—his cock the only thing that you can think of.
A guttural moan leaves him. "Can't believe you'd fall for some s-stupid shit like this. Now you're all fucking mine—" he pulls out, the head of his cock on your lips—"you like that, huh? Like belonging to me? I'll make you forget about your classes and I'll keep your cunt strapped on my cock instead."
There's a string of saliva that connects his cock to your lips. He plays with it, having fun smearing it all over your chin. The humiliation is tattooed in your brain.
You agreed to meet him because the Dean planned to give you the scholarsip—something you've been working so hard for. It's a lie. How could you have known someone from the student council would lie to you just to get their dick wet?
"Hey, hey," he pulls you up, sitting you on a desk. "What are you thinking about, baby? You're thinking too hard. Come on, I know you feel good."
And you do. Because after all of this, you still got a big fucking crush on him.
"S-stop it, please," you try to say. "I'm... I'm sorry if I did anything wrong but—"
He laughs. "You did nothing wrong. I love you, I do. But you're just to gullible. You have to know how adorable you look when you think everything you want is going to be handed over to you on a plate."
Red paints your face. Your heart churns at his words but he's standing between your legs with his cock wetting the inside of your thighs. Your cunt is being exposed with an easy pull of your panties to the side. The conflict of arousal and humiliation is too much to handle.
"How about this, hm? I'm going to fuck you better and tomorrow, let's see you beg for the Dean's cock to get that scholarship?"
There's contradictions on your tongue. It's taken out of you when he pulls your hips—his cock sliding between your folds and fucking you raw.
"F-fuck!" You cry. It's too big. His cock stretches you more than your fingers ever had, easily breaking the littlest resistence your hymen had. It makes you cry. Your heart hammers against your ears. It pulses in time with your cunt convulsing around him.
He's breathing against your cheeks; with the way he's out of breath, it's like he's enjoying taking your virginity like this. "Holy... fuck—did you never have a guy in here before?" he asks, as if he needs confirmation. "You're so fucking tight. I need you to loosen up for me, babe."
Not a single effort was made to get you to relax. He pulls back and fucks you right in, ignoring your pained little whimpers as it's being overshadowed by your moans. You're conflicted but he's so assured. Though your brain runs wild, your pussy sucks him in and is getting wetter by the second.
"So fucking good," he moans. "Tight fucking slut for me."
"I've never—agh! Never... had—!"
He chuckles as he bruises your hips with his hold. "I can fucking tell, baby. Shit. I can feel your cute little pussy hug my cock so tight. You love it so bad, don't you? I bet you fucking waited to be defiled by a cock this big."
You can barely muster a breath, nonetheless a word to deny him. It’s cruel how he pistons his hips. Your legs are in the air, toes clenching as half of his cock barely breaches inside of you. You’re gripping him with a vice, the pain dulling with the hot moans he breathes through your skin.
“God, that’s it,” his mouth instinctively opens as he spreads your folds open. Your pussy is spread. on the girth, his eyes trained onto where his cock disappears inside of you. You can tell he’s lost himself in the sensation when he has to swallow down his own spit.
He’s moaning, a growl emitting from him when you squeeze him. “Loosen the fuck up!” His hand presses against your stomach, trapping you on the wooden desk. “God, shit. For someone eager to take a cock in you’re so not prepared.”
The new angle just rubs your g-spot. A strangled moan involuntarily leaves you, his response being a dark grin spreading on his face. Knowing now, he continues to rubs up that spot. You want to pull your legs together but it’s tightly locked in his grasp. Toes curling, you tense up as he thrusts faster inside of you.
“S-so…” you gasp, hands gripping the edge of the table as you move with the force of his thrusts. “So fucking—so fucking good, haaah..!”
With each thrust, you lose yourself to the pleasure. Your cunt perfectly welcomes him in, even sucking him inside just to keep it rubbing against those nerves. You don’t remember a time feeling this good. The stretch is almost gone. Broken cries of pleasure are being punched out of you. He’s merciless and chases his own high, yet you’re being dragged along as you feel yourself soak and leak.
“Fuck,” he mutters, “I knew you’d love being fucked by me. I’ve been…. shit! I’ve been seeing you shake your cute little ass since you came. here. Knew you were so desperate to be claimed by me.”
He groans low in his throat. Swiftly, he throws your legs together on one side of his shoulders, fucking his cock deep inside of you. The new angle reaches further, your legs shaking from the intense feeling of being used like a toy for him. Your pleasure is undeniable. If you could see yourself, you would see your wet cunt drooling as your face is molded into a face of intoxication.
You can’t help it anymore. The slow yet deep thrusts spreads tingles from your pussy to the rest of your body. “‘m close…” you mutter, struggling to find diction. “So close—hng!”
“I didn’t hear you, “ he pulls on your hair from the roots, tugging it with enough force to electrocute your nerves there. “I can’t fucking hear you with your pussy gushing all over me.”
Cheeks turning a bright red, you try to cover yourself as he thrusts deep and short for emphasis. You can hear yourself make wet sounds with each movement. His words only make you wetter.
Trying to gather yourself, you take a deep breath with a hand over head your head. “I wanna cum, I need it so bad please… Need to cum on. your cock so b-bad!” You cry, surprised you could even form words when all you can think. about is that hot rod inside of you.
He’s forgiving. “Good fucking girl,” he sighs in relief as he continues his animalistic thrusts. The desk creaks each time and you would be worried for its durability if not for his hand lowering to play with your clit.
“Cum for me, cum for your new owner.”
The cock breaching your once-virgin pussy and the your clit being fondled only ushers you closer and closer to an orgasm. You couldn’t even warn him. With both hands reaching for his shoulders, a moan leaves you so loud you’re so everyone in the hallway could hear you.
You’re shivering. Your body is worn out and his cock pulls out of you—your orgasm flowing out as his own spurts on your face to your neck. He had clumsily aimed at your face, the angle awkward with your body half sat on the table. But the liquid splashed to your a bit of your lips, the taste of his release odd yet so erotic.
“Shit,” he mutters, the relief washing over him. You can see the satisfaction in his face; the slight upward tilt of his smile, the heavy breathing, his eyes examining every part of your body, all of it a testament to his amusement to having just defiled you.
There’s no need to speak. Finally, for the first time, he pushes his lips against yours.
In your years living, you haven’t given away your first kiss. In this moment, he had successfully taken two first times with you. His kiss reflects his previous desire to make his mark in your cunt. Breath hot, he pushes his tongue inside your mouth and is determined to lick every part of it.
You’re weak in his grasp. Every limb is numb and your pussy is still tingling. He’s kissing you how he wants as you simply struggle to breathe correctly. Your head is dizzy. There’s a cloud within your thoughts, simply unable to comprehend anything that is happening.
With a bite to your lower lip, that grounds you back to reality. He laughs into the kiss before placing his lips on your neck.
“So fucking dumb now,” he laughs, “don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll make sure you’ll get a reward for servicing my cock.”
Being his broken-in slut doesn’t seem so bad.
UPDATE ! 📢 @wiltedpoison @elloredef @alureasoley
@ 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐃𝐎𝐕𝐄 this story is original and is not allowed to be shared without credits. do not plagiarise, feed to ai, or claim as yours.
#⌗ . yanderes ! ⋆ ❞#yandere male#yandere#obsessive yandere#yandere oc x reader#yandere oc#yandere x reader#yandere core#yandere x y/n#yandere imagines#yandere drabble#yandere x you#yandere oc smut#yandere smut#male yandere x reader#oc x reader#yan x reader#yandere fic#yandere fanfiction
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Yeah, the Hashira are cute, but have you seen Gyutaro? He's just utterly deranged, spiteful, mean, and I dunno, I wanna kiss his pretty face until he can't think straight.
No one can blame me for having a taste for deranged men, I've pretty much always been this way towards people I can tell just need a pair of soft hands to gnaw on while they get snuggles. That and I don't really care, I love my deranged pond scum man 💜💜💜💜💜💜
#glitchrambles.txt#gyutaro#gyutaro rambles#He's in my brain again and he won't leave#Like yeah I got a thing for Kyo#But sadly his bright eyes and cute smiles just can't top the shark teeth and insanity Gyu has#There's just something about him#I can't resist#He's just so alluring with his crooked and cruel smile and crass mannerisms#Like#I love digging into his mind you know? It's a fascinating dissection and study of how those around someone shape them#Makes me wanna be a big sister to Daki because I would love another sibling#Like I already have a bunch online why not add another lol#And I wanna cradle Gyutaro's head to my chest and pet his hair and trace that marks he has and-#I just need to coddle him for awhile#It's a need at this point
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"Well if I failed it, that means I didn't learn it, right? I dunno, though, honestly, real life's not like school. They try to tell you, 'Memorize these eighteen vocab words or you'll grow up a loser and won't get a job,' but really... as an adult, if you wanna know somethin', you look it the hell up." Wade really thought that today's American schools were doin' a real disservice to kids, with the memory recall and repetition techniques instead of teaching them important things like critical and independent thinking.
"I think 'steada teachin' kids to memorize shit, we should be teachin' 'em life skills, like how to use a library or a computer, how to do your taxes, how to manage your finances, stick to a budget, how to ask the right questions, basic email etiquette, how to network socially, how to make a resume, that kinda stuff. That's the stuff you need to know to be a functional adult, not what sphenopalatine ganglioneuralgia means." There was a quiet beat and then, "Brain freeze. That's what it means. You know, like when you eat ice cream too fast? I just love sayin' it, that's the only reason I know it," he said with a chuckle. "I dunno, I learn better by doin', not by readin' or studyin'. There's no substitute for life experience, man."
He saw Rockland's energy be taken down a peg about being a responsible person, and he understood why. "Yeah, I know, bein' responsible's no fun, and it sucks that you've gotta do it so young, but it really is admirable. And it'll give you a leg up later in life, definitely. You're already ahead of most kids just because you pay attention to all this stuff they don't. So keep that in mind. It sucks, but it pays off, trust me," he tried to say by way of encouragement and cheering the kid up a bit. Sometimes life gave you lemons, but if you learned how to make lemonade out of them early on, you were better off later.
As the conversation shifted to Rockland's mom, Wade could see the conflict in the young boy's eyes. He shrugged at little at his assumption that her leaving meant she didn't care. "Eh, not necessarily. People leave for all sorts of reasons. Sometimes it's not even really under their control. For example... I once was paid to find a guy who'd completely disappeared. His family was lookin' for him, he owed all this money, he let all his bills lapse, that sorta thing. Guy was gone for years. His family was thinkin' he was a total jerk and just took off to start a new life somewhere. Turns out he actually did. I found him a couple states over livin' a completely different life. Here's the catch, though... The guy had been in a car accident, got a head injury, and suffered almost total amnesia. He didn't know who the hell was and started over again somewhere else. Isn't that wild? So it's not always that people don't care. There can be a lotta reasons why someone leaves."
Wade started chuckling as Rockland asked him if he slept. "I'm not Dracula, buddy. Yeah, I sleep. I just usually do it from morning to late afternoon 'steada at night, that's all. So I'm not tired right now, I just got up a few hours ago. I just didn't wanna get you into any trouble keepin' you out late. Also I'm not lookin' to be accused of kidnappin'. That'd kinda look bad on my resume, you know?" he joked.
Well that caught their attention alright. A middle finger had shot into the air, directed at a group of teens across the street who were hovering by a Duncan Donuts long closed for the night. The boy beneath the hoodie, propelling said finger, sneered. Just like that, the group of five moved towards him, the tallest, Shacks, sauntering forward with an irritating air of confidence. And to think, there'd been a time when Rockland had thought he was cool.
"You can't seriously blame us, Rocky." He looked to the others with cruel amusement, "It was a prank, get a sense of hum-" Too busy searching for the favour of his crew, he'd missed the draw of the younger teen's fist before it met his cheek.
"Prank my ass, I could've been arres-oof." Rockland was tackled by Archie, the smallest of the bunch, who was about a head shorter than he was, but kinda stalky for his age, and with the element of surprise on his side. Cane clattering out of hand, and across the sidewalk, the lanky teen scraped across the pavement, electric pain radiating up from his tailbone. He caught the breath that had been knocked out of him just in time to catch the thump of a fist to the nose in return. - For Wade
Wade didn't know what to make of this city yet. He'd only been here a couple days and was still trying to get his bearings. It wasn't a bad city, he thought, just cold. Just... really cold when you're alone, like all cities are. Nevertheless, Wade did some hunting and stocked up on other supplies, always wanting to stay on the move. That's how he got jobs, and that's how he kept sane.
Tonight had been quiet enough so far... that is until he heard sounds of a fight. But a fight... between kids? Was he hearing this right? Wade made his way toward the sounds, and sure enough, some kids whose parents were absent and whose bedtimes must be fast-approaching were going at it. Or rather, several kids were beating up on one unfortunate one.
"Hey! Come on, cut it out, what the hell're you guys doin'?!" Wade yelled, hoping to scatter the bullies. "You know better than this, get off him! Don't make me call the cops!" he said, watching as they all scattered... save for one. Wade knelt down beside the boy lying on the ground. "Hey, buddy, you okay?" he asked gently.
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“I know exactly what I want. How about you, Pete? How do you like it?”
#I THINK HE GOT SOME IDEAS ABT HOW HE'D LIKE IT IN EP 11 VEGAS#i'm sure we've seen this parallel 7 million times already but we will look at it again. bc it won't leave my brain#okay ngl the more i look at this the more i like this colouring#pete#vegaspete#kinnporsche#bl shows#my gifs#leftontheladder#tuserfaiza#usertph#userboots#dailyvegaspete
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shockwave holding bee's spark as it flickers and fades slowly
(cw added for the tags)
#IM GOING FUCKING FERAL AGAIN I NEED HIM TO TEAR AWAY THAT PUNY SPARK OUT OF THE SPARK CHAMBER AND WATCH AS IT FADES#cables sticking out to the still beating spark#theres broken wiring and torn protoform and all he can do is twitch as sharp claws holding him gently#shockwave has never been this gentle as he offlines someone. and bee has never been held so lovingly after so much violence#shockwave's spark beats faster as he stares at the spark. devouring it (not literally) he stares as if hisife depends on it watching#with attention every flicker of the incoming death of the bot he holds#i cant decide if he would keep the spark as a personal trophy of finally getting rid of the plaguing his thoughts. or he would crush t#*crush it#THEY MAKE ME SICKK and they won't leave my brain#cw: robogore#sort of#at least in the tags#shockbee#i was trying to sleep and they came back to haunt me. literally cant do shit without thinking about these two what the fuck
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I have not posted any of my analysis to reddit yet and I think I might just post it and ghost it. I've already spent too much time looking at other people's threads on there to feel any way good about interacting with folks.
I already went in an added the "I know you're going to bring this up let me save you the time" section which is exclusively touching on the frequent topics of:
"well what about the fingerprint nostrum and finger mimics? He is clearly just a crackpot"
And
"it's definitely some weird elaborate sacrifice to Metyr thing"
#if he's drinking hallucinogenic tea in his free time genuinely good for him. whatever man. i just do not think either of those items are-#at all relevant to the quest especially the nostrum because it is a placebo medicine and aint nothing fake about this shit#also i think theres a distinction between becoming fingers vs wanting to replace metyr? idk like as ive said i think he thinks he's-#better than the fingerweavers and rightfully so#like please come to a new conclusion other than “man this guy is on drugs”#also girl... metyr doesnt need sacrifices. like? where is that textually or in set design? metyr wants us to leave her the fuck alone#she's minding her own business EVERY TIME WE SPAWN INTO HER ZONE#like why are people so desperate for everything to have a dark undercurrent? not everything has to be some dark disney ass shit#“actually finding nemo is a hallucination & Marlin is insane & nemo is dead that movie is actually super fucked up & dory is a grim reaper”#like im sorry but this is how this extra shit all feels to me#like it is already fucked up and miserable?#is he 100% a good person? like thats genuinely person to person. theres personal gain from the quest#and hes definitely very good at getting what he wants#manipulate manifest mother#tail fingers on the vision board#devon yaps#and yap I did#like I don't want to be a bitch because yeah we should genuinely celebrate other peoples theories and hcs in these games#but i dont think “lol this guy is just on drugs” is one of those things#because i like spooky theories if theyre backed up.#but to say “its this weirdly horrible thing and youre all wrong” especially in his context is not great to me#Sorry. like may my own arrogance strike me down like the scholar i think i am 😤 farewell#because again its coming down to meeting this narrative without preconceived bias and most of the reddit stuff feels like-#“he is fucked up. won't say why. but i bet you know why i actually think this 🤫🤫🤫” like just you cant wrap your brain around guy mom#i do really want to reiterate this is about reddit shit. like i am so into people who love his character but interpret him more sinister💕😚#truly eating that shit up
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i really need to finish this one day
#one of my fave ideas but i keep getting stuck or starting over. third time's the charm hopefully#anyways. posting it as an excuse to rant because i'm losing my mind over this rn for no reason#incoherent but i just need to Talk or my brain won't shut up#you ever think about how fucked up it is that aoi feels guilty over what happened. i do. i think about her a lot#he can't even look at me. we aren't even blood related but he still had to go to jail because of me. i still love him#in reality none of it is her fault. it shouldn't be about doumeki in the first place. baby girl you were 15 when it happened.#you can say that yashiro is cruel in his dismissiveness (on the surface) of doumeki's trauma but you can see where he's coming from#you got a glimpse of what your sister was going through? of what i went through? and now you're sooo guilty over it? and who does it help?#doumeki's so focused on his own feelings that he ignored aoi when they were living together. “saves” her by pure chance#proceeds to focus on his guilt and ignore her again. if yashiro didn't get involved she'd be sitting in the rain for god knows how long#yet she still loves and to some degree idolizes him#yashiro and aoi both saying that doumeki isn't the type of person to be a yakuza too. doumeki's good doumeki's better than that#and then ch 24 happens. where yashiro says that he's going to throw up and doumeki's response is “i probably won't stop even if you do”#“guess i am like my father after all” and yashiro still goes “you're not. you're pure and im the problem”#(touches doumeki's face. rare gentle gesture. he's gentle afterwards too before leaving. man.)#he's not cruel enough to repeat what he said in the earlier conversation and he doesn't actually believe it anyway#but i wish yashiro was cruel there. it shouldn't have been about doumeki and his feelings. again.#something about yashiro throwing a knife at another person and it flying back at him huh#for all the talk about how doumeki supposedly romanticizes yashiro it really is the other way around. always has been#which is a whole other conversation but yeah. everything about aoi and yashiro in relation to doumeki makes me so fucking sad#but this is also what i mean when i say that aoi doesn't haunt the narrative per se but still has this weird presence?#she's in the parallels. she's in the brief but important mentions. she's in the “your sister was lucky she had you”.#wips tag
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i don't know how to be merely acquaintances when we used to be friends. or i think we used to be. i don't know how to yearn for a simple hello when you've been heaping your affection on me months ago, and i don't know how to talk to you when you won't say anything. when suddenly it's all about me. you know i have nothing to say, you know my brain is void of everything but horribleness and i cannot tell you about my day because i don't even know about my day. i cannot tell you about my day when i know you won't listen, when i know you'll apply your philosophy to my world and don't believe me when i say that everything is terrible. i don't know how to be the person you seem to think i am, or the person you want in your life. i don't know if you want anyone else in your life now that you're in love and sappy, found another recipient for your affections, leaving me empty and wounded and yearning.
you said you missed me. said it many times, while i was gone. now i'm back, have been back, and i wonder how you missed me, why you missed me, when you won't talk to me. i think you mistook missing for worrying. i think you mistook caring for a feeling of obligation. i think you like missing me more than talking to me.
and i think i can't breathe with how much that hurts
#how do you miss me when you won't talk to me? how do you like me so much and then go to just. not?#how did i let you in when i try so hard not to let people do that because i know that once they get past the walls all i'll be left with#is the idea of them rotting and withering inside me. polluting the space i create to keep myself safe.#why does everyone leave? leave in silence too. leaving behind so many questions and so many words engraved in my brain#i am so tired of *grieving* when those i grieve are still alive and well and thriving and i'm reminded that it's versions of myself#that i'm grieving instead. how do you grieve yourself? how do you not fucking fall apart over it?#just. fucking talk to me. don't make it be true that all i'll ever be is nothingness and the memory of someone you liked once#but never never never liked enough#i'm so so cold already. i'm a shell. i want to be warm again but it always leaves me so hollow and hurting#i grieve the dio who was warm. i grieve them i miss them i am so so angry that he had to leave. to hide. with no way out#i'm happy for you. i'm happy you're happy. but you're no better than anyone else and it makes me want to run away again#but i have nowhere else to run and no one else to be. and it's so fucked that it doesn't matter who i am i'll never be enough#for someone to just. stay. to see me and to stay. to hear me and to sit and listen and just. just fucking stay.#maybe i'm not worth staying for. maybe there's nothing to know nothing to hear nothing to see nothing to listen to nothing to find#maybe all i'll ever get is one/two good months paid for with a lifetime of grief. and i'm at the point where i don't want the good months#anymore with you or anyone else who tears down these walls with affection that is so endlessly addictive and leaves me yearning.#on the off chance that it will keep the grief away too. but that's the thing about grief isn't it? it's here to stay. unlike you#god this is so fucked up and i'll delete this later but for now i just need to. let it out. poe said i should make a side blog for the grie#but poe's not there anymore. poe has stopped starting fires. so this goes on main until shame makes me take it down#blah#personal#not st
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getting covid twice in a year has turned me into such a terribly anxious paranoid person it's driving me CRZAZY!!!!!
#especially knowing how much it wreaks havoc on my body AND mymind i really don't think i could handle getting it again#went to a bday party last night that was pretty small + all the windows were open + air filters on full blast but i had a 12 hour panic#spiral after leaving like SOOOOO convinced i had contracted covid#i'm about to be back in school starting this week so i won't have time for social activities which will reduce my risk of getting it again#big time but also i work with so many kids and those guys are little vectors i love them but they're vectors!!! and so are my 50 coworkers!#my boss also hates that i mask and has something to say about it every time she sees me which hurts my feelings frankly!!!#anyway i'm worried if i get covid again it'll damage my brain tot he point i won't be able to finish my degree bc i have such a hard time#learning new information + my memory recall is shot and i jsut feel stupid covid has made me permanently stupid#anuway. have a good night everybody!
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well.
#txt#hm. well. my uncle is officially brain dead. he can't speak ever again he can't move his lungs are only working through a machine.#if he leaves the hospital he will be in a bed. forever. he won't be able to talk to us or laugh or move. he's not there anymore at all .#and . idk. how do u mourn someone who hasnt really died but for all purposes is given as dead . what the fuck do u do how do you mourn them#anyways. things are bad#grief tw#death mention#might delete this later idk just . well!!! how do you do it!!!!
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Can I interest you in some silly sex with Simon? 🧎🏻♀️➡️
18+
Word count: 1k.
CW: nothing really. Just silly sex. Just giggling sex. Just I-need-to-give-this-man-some-humanity sex. Simon is ticklish and you find out, that's the plot.
Masterlist 🦊
𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬
You look delectable straddling his hips.
Naked and soft, plump tits sitting prettily in his hands. His thumbs swipe idly around your perked nipples as you ride him slowly, early morning sun peeking through the curtains and lapping at your skin. What a way to wake up, what a sight.
He stares at your lips and how they part for him—something he still has to get used to, though he probably never truly will. How dulcet does his name sound if it’s your voice whispering it, how beautiful your eyes when they take in his face.
Soft hands are pressed on his chest for leverage, and you’re treating him with a view he keeps pinned to the forefront of his brain—gliding your cunt until you’re chock-full of him, stroking yourself until you’re shivering.
He likes it when he’s on top, sure. He’s used to taking the lead and orchestrating every detail, in and out of the job.
But when you allow him to sit back and take it? Hell, sign him up. He’d do it every day. Especially when it’s this lazy sex here, in which you’re canting your hips to cum before he does, giving him the blissful chance of feeling you clench around him when he's still hard.
Goosebumps rise under your nails as they graze down his chest and brush his stomach. Your hands wander blindly on his belly, then his sides, as you clock his eyes with your heavy ones, panting softly, idly—my beautiful, beautiful girl.
But then you inadvertently brush his ribs, and he stiffens—even squirms, and your movements come to a halt.
You blink as conscience returns to you slowly, and the room sinks into tense silence. His cock twitches inside of you when you tilt your head inquisitively, squinting your eyes.
Experimentally, you brush your fingertips against his ribs again, and his biceps flatten to his sides, trapping your hands.
Your eyes widen, and his do the same.
“Don’t.”
You gasp, “Oh my God.”
“Darling, no.” He warns, but you’ve clearly made up your mind already.
Your lips are curled in a smile that promises mischief, and he can only give up, sit back, and count his losses.
“Darling, yes.”
Simon feels your fingers wiggle under the tight press of his arms, but no matter his strength, they're seemingly useless against that playful resolve you're displaying.
His cock is still embarrassingly hard inside you, and Simon reckons it won't soften any time soon. You don’t seem eager to get off him either, thus prolonging the torture with each tiny movement you make.
He inhales sharply and fights tooth and nail to school his expression into neutrality. His eyes are narrowed, and his jaw is locked tight. The only thing giving him away is the flush of his cheeks, getting pinker by the second because he refuses to open his mouth to breathe a much-needed lungful of air. Knowing that if he would, he'd bark a laugh that would proclaim you as the winner of this fight.
He would never.
You roll your hips, then—cheap trick. He unravels with a shaky breath, and his biceps give out enough for you to slip your hands away.
And then, he knows he's done for.
“Cut it out.” He barks, trying to sound stern and miserably failing. He knows because you're laughing even harder.
Your fingers feel like tiny bugs crawling up his sides, and they make his breath catch in his throat.
“Never.” You say, with a grin that scrunches your nose. A smile that would normally make his heart throb, but right now just makes him wish he were a lesser man so he could throttle you.
“Fuckin’-“
You chuckle.
You evil little cunt.
Resistance lasts a few more seconds before he bursts.
It’s not a full laugh that leaves him; more of a wheeze that makes you chortle like a wicked witch. His chest heaves as your fingers frantically tickle his sides. Tries to get you off him by shaking his hips, but that only makes the two of you falter and moan, and then chuckle and catch your breaths.
His shoulders shake in a breathless, choking laugh that pitches upward as you continue with your assault (yes, assault—he is not being dramatic), eyes veiled with tears of frustration and mirth. He shrieks when your hands travel under his armpits—the sound makes you giggle in a way that would have him melt.
“That laugh’s lovely, baby.” You say with a smarmy grin he wishes he could wipe with a kiss, hands unrelenting against his sides. “Sound like a kettle whistling.”
He tries to glower and push you off, but you’re surprisingly strong when you’re focused. Right now, your only goal is to apparently make him hate you—he'd rather be held at gunpoint than being forced to hold in a laugh that makes his stomach hurt.
Simon now looks shockingly harmless, with his cheeks flushed bright red and his voice an octave too high—wouldn't look dangerous if he tried.
“Tea ready, yet?” You add, batting your lashes, because why not rub salt into the already embarrassing wound marring his pride.
It’s that unfathomably stupid joke that finally makes Simon crack. He barks out a laugh that bubbles up his throat, rippling through his stomach so suddenly that you bounce above him. Your own laugh follows soon after, because each time you manage to steal one from him, your heart vibrates with loving triumph.
But still—he is Simon Riley, isn’t he? Member of Task Force 141. Lieutenant in the UK Special Forces, SAS. The Ghost. There is some pride in there, one he'd like to keep intact.
He tries to recollect his breath, sniffling, and his arms shoot out to wrap around your waist. He rolls onto his side, taking you with him.
It’s then that you find yourself in a position of utter disadvantage, on your back with your big brute of a boyfriend holding you down. You’re wide-eyed and still smiling with barely contained giggles, and he’d be lying if he said it doesn't make his heart soar.
Sure, he’s panting, still proper flushed and apple-cheeked, with shivers wrecking his spine and unshed tears in his eyes—but he takes great pride in having won yet another fight (again, not overreacting at all, if you ask him).
He grabs your wrists and pins them above your head.
You fix him with a look. “Simon, no.”
Before you can add more to your complaint, he rams his cock into you until your chest stutters, your lips mouthing around a shaky breath he drinks dry with a wet kiss.
He fucks you into the mattress, then—once, twice, until the remnants of laughter vanish from your face and you’re trembling in bliss, eyes rolled back under heavy eyelids.
He places a sloppy kiss down to your collarbone.
“Simon, yes.”
#does this fall in the Awkward Simon Riley?#nah he's just a guy#silly sex is my fav sex if it involves emotionally unavailable men#theo drabbles#simon riley#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#call of duty modern warfare#cod#cod mw2#fanfic#ghost x reader#smut#cod smut#x reader#cod fluff#give the man some fluff
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Mean!Logan who absolutely will NOT kiss you on the mouth while he’s fucking you. You’re crying and begging and so so desperate for it but he just will not give in, loves to watch you cry and cry even while your whole body shakes and your eyes roll back from how deep he is in you
Logan won't kiss you
send me mean!logan requests!
contents/warnings: mean!logan, teasing, dacryphilia, don't like don't read.
a/n: anon i hope you know this made me moan. shit the first line almost had me creaming my jeans. thank you <33333333333
It's a tease, being given so much and yet nothing at all. Logan's strong hips are steadily thrusting against your own, driving his cock in and out of your cunt that begs for nothing more, but you're being held tantalizingly close to the precipice of your orgasm solely from the denial of a kiss.
Logan's mouth is heaven.
Whether against your own or against another part of you, your sensitive nipples or your throbbing pussy, his mouth has always brought you to completion. You yearn for it now, with sharp aches and pleas from your drooling cunt as he fucks into you, but he refuses to give you what you want- what you need.
"What's'a matter?" He drawls, and by the condescension in his voice, by the sharp, rigid smirk on the mouth of his that you want so bad, you know he knows, "What gives, you don't like me or somethin'?"
"Logan," You whine for mercy, tears beading in your eyes as you grip his biceps and attempt to hoist yourself up to kiss him. He deflects skillfully, pushing you back down to the mattress.
"No, no, don't be greedy. My dick isn't enough? Looks like it is." He muses, eyeing the way your cunt slobbers on his length, coating it generously in your thick, slick arousal.
"Look at you, you're ruined," Logan scoffs, panting through the continuous motions of his hips, "And you still want more."
"I want a kiss," You feel pitiful whining like that, and he laughs like you are.
"Oh, princess wants a kiss, is that it? All this cock and what you really want is my mouth?"
"Yes," You gasp, tears flooding down your cheeks at the contempt in his eyes, even if its staged, "Please Logan, please, I jus- I just want one kiss, please." You try yet again to raise your head, but he won't take the bait- he sneers like you're nothing but an annoyance.
"No." He decides simply, hips only snapping faster and faster, harder and harder into your cunt, "You have enough. Use it."
You do. You clench around his cock, thighs squeezed together so that your entrance is as tight as possible. You feel every inch of his impressive length as it pounds in and out of your pussy, you feel pleasure in every fiber of your being, and yet- it's the visual of Logan's tongue flicking out over his lips after a hefty exhale that finally sends your brain and body into overdrive.
His lips, thin and a shade pinker than his skin, look so enticing, and the way that his tongue laves over them leaving translucent saliva behind sends sparks between your legs like nothing you've ever felt without Logan's mouth. You wish it was yours, you wish his tongue was dipping into your mouth the way it does so often, licking every inch of your skin, tasting every part of you there ever has been.
You cum hard and you cum almost painfully, writhing on the bed covered in tears and sweat. There's surely a pool of slick beneath your ass on the bed from where your cunt has drooled onto the sheets but Logan will clean it up later- if you're lucky, from you with the mouth you're still fantasizing about.
"There, that wasn't hard," Logan hums, crooning tenderly like he's taking care of you as he finally dips down to press a firm kiss against the slack ring of your mouth. It's late, but better than never. You exhale shakily as he kisses you, a balm to soothe the hurt feelings of his denial, and he chuckles as you twitch beneath him. He leaves his cock buried in your warm, twitching cunt- he hasn't finished himself, but he'll feed his cock down your throat later- anytime you cum and he doesn't you offer to help him out. Watching the way that your eyes blink hazily at him post-kiss is certainly helping him along, and he won't take long up against the warm wet seal of your mouth.
"Poor thing is sensitive." He nudges his nose against your own, muscles bulging as he keeps himself hovering over you, "Can't handle being used, hm? Gotta be loved?"
"I love you," You whisper pitifully, chasing his mouth with a desperate, sticky kiss of your own, "Logan, I- I love you, mm-"
"Alright, alright." He mumbles through your sloppy attempts at kissing him, muffled by your lips, "Alright, crybaby, 'love you too."
#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett imagine#logan howlett fluff#logan howlett fanfiction#logan howlett smut#logan howlett x you#logan howlett blurb#logan howlett drabble#logan howlett oneshot#wolverine x reader#wolverine imagine#wolverine smut
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simon being protective of his mail order bride scratches all the right spots in my brain.
mail-order bride
you're almost relieved when you hear the knock at the door. you've been a holding a tree pose for a few minutes too long, and the girl hosting the online yoga class is starting to fry your eardrums with her too-perky voice.
you're sweating bullets, and her hair hasn't moved a fucking inch out of her ponytail.
you mute the television, wiping your forehead before making your way to the front door. you open it with a sigh, not really knowing what you expected to see, but it certainly wasn't the average-dressed man standing on the steps there.
you blink, raising a brow when his eyes roam over you, and you realize suddenly that you're wearing workout clothes, which is showing off a little more than you'd like to some rando standing on your doorstep.
"uh..." you look around a little. "i'm sorry, can i help you?"
he smiles. it's a little unnerving.
"right, yeah, i'm starting a business around here, and i wanted to ask if you've been needing any help with any fixtures around the house. i'm giving a 50% discount if you give me a rating on google."
you open your mouth for a moment, frowning.
"uhm..." you shake your head, "sorry. we don't need any help right now."
"you live here alone? sometimes it's hard to spot when the electric's on the piss, y'know? need a keen eye," he laughs, coming up one of the steps. you shake your head again.
"no, thanks."
he's a wiry man, but he's tall (not taller than your husband, but taller than you). you step back a little and start to close the door. he comes up the steps. out of the corner of your eye, you see the cat slip out between your legs, hissing a little as the distance closes between you and the man.
"wait! can i give you my contact info? i don't have a card, but i can leave you my--"
the sound of simon's truck pulling into the garage gets both of you to look behind. simon doesn't even park all the way inside. he throws the truck door open, stepping out of it, and the man on your steps moves back away from you immediately, making his way off the little porch.
simon looks huge, more so than ever. his steps are heavy, boots hitting the ground like a warning bell, and he's wearing just a short-sleeved shirt that's showing off those glorious fucking arms. you have never doubted simon's strength, but he looks like he could flip a car with the anger that's leaving him in heavy waves. you're surprised that you are not afraid; you just know somehow that simon won't touch you.
"oi!" simon yells, and the man definitely understands he picked the wrong fucking house to be a creepy salesman at when his knees nearly buckle as he tries to walk away. "where the fuck do y'think y'r goin', you twat?"
you sigh deeply, not realizing how much you were shaking until you notice your hands trembling around the doorknob. you watch as simon catches the guy by his dirty jean jacket, nearly lifting him completely off his feet as he drags him towards the fence gate.
"hey! hey! i didn't do anything!"
"i saw ya, ya fuckin' arse, know exactly wot the fuck y'were doin'," simon growls, tossing him onto the sidewalk. he hits the pavement with a cry, holding onto his arm, and simon slams the fence gate closed before pointing at him accusingly. "'f i ever see ya anywhere near m'fuckin' house or even askin' m'wife for so much as fuckin' directions, i'll cut y'r bloody prick off, y'hear?"
you blink as simon comes closer, the cat retreating back into the house once they see him. he keeps walking, crowding you back into the house before he shuts and locks the front door. his chest is heaving, black t-shirt doing nothing to hide the puff of his chest and how large he makes himself when he stands up to other men. he doesn't even need to make himself larger; simon takes up enough space for two men combined.
"he touch you?" simon asks, his voice low. you see his fists clench, and you have no doubt that if you said yes, simon would go outside and paint the pavement a new color with the man's face.
you shake your head frantically, and he lets out a deep breath, reaching up and wrapping a hand around the back of your head and pulling you close.
he bends, pressing his masked forehead against yours, closing his eyes as he breathes in slowly. he rubs at the nape of your neck, soothing you, and you smile when he pulls away, giving him those big eyes that say thank you, thank you, thank you.
simon cocks his head, staring behind you, and you turn with him to see the cat blinking slowly at the two of you from it's place on the windowsill.
"should get you a fucking guard dog instead," simon mutters, pulling his mask off and kicking his boots into the corner. you smile as he walks away, trying to cool your warm cheeks with the backs of your hands.
doesn't he know you already have one?
#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost mw2#ghost cod#ghost call of duty#ghost mwii#ghost x reader#cod#call of duty#order up
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Little idea wiggling about in my brain...
So like *holds Danny and Billy up by the scruff of their shirts* these two bastards won't leave my brain, and for punishment I will make them kiss...
Just, the Rock of eternity technically is Shazam's (the wizards) haunt? He has been dead for a long time, living only though his champion, what if Ghost King Danny gets slapped with a post it note that reads like
"Daniel, you're required to assist the Champion of Magic as the High King of the Realms, even Pariah helped the previous Champion Black Adam."
And Danny is like, "Sure, why not, Magic is real and so are ghosts."
And like....
Sparky Danny meeting Literal Sun Beam Billy, they are both 14, it's puppy love at its finest. Danny doesn't know what to do with gay panic and Billy is just straight up "This man is my soul mate, he shall be mine." (Call iy Zeus bestowing more than just lightning)
The leauge is very concerned why Captain Marvel seems to have a seeming underage partner.
Superman squinting very hard and trying to figure this out: So...just how old is Phantom?
Billy, unaware how bad this looks: Oh I don't know honestly, it's kinda hard to tell with beings from the Realms! Though he died when he was 14!
Superman, gripping the table (which cracks a little) :And how exactly long has he been 14?
Billy, taking out his phone and flipping out pictures: Like I said, I don't really know how old he is, but there is Egyptain hieroglyphics of him! Look!
Superman, blinking at the very real looking pictures: Ahh. Fun cool cool cool...a-and how are you again Cap?
Billy mindlessly swiping the photos, excited to show off his boyfriend:Never said it, but he is definitely older than I am.
(Danny is older by a month, Billy calls him an old man for it.)
Billy gets to live full time in Danny's haunt in the Zone, Danny built him like the best house, Tucker and Sam get to meet Billy and they just are flabbergasted that Danny "I can't get a girl to date me or else she ends up wanting to kill me" Fenton has a boyfriend that has been going steady for a few months.
My brain sees like, Maddie and Jack are 100% backing Danny, they are fully supportive of their bi/gay/pan son, but in no way would they support him if he was a ghost, like they are organizing Amitys first ever Pride parade, but there is a shoot ghosts on sight order.
And just the reveal is like...
Danny gets finally tells them he is a ghost: if you start shooting me, your shooting the only Gay person you know, not very ally of you mom and Dad.
Maddie mouth open in horror: Oh no...Jack are...are we homophobic?
Jack sharing her look of fear: Great Scott...Dann-o a-are you sure...its...it's a life style right? Y-you chose this?
Danny, trying very, very hard not to laugh: It's not a life style dad! I didn't choose to Die!
Anyway, thank you for coming to my brain word vomit, I haven't slept in 20 hours.
#dc x dp#dpxdc#danny phantom#danny is a little shit#ghost king danny#billy batson#shazam#captain marvel#hiding this in the tags#but...Black Adam/Praiah Dark anyone?#i can see it#i am so tired#god let me sleep
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bro im ngl, i've been thinking of first aid being the on call medic that has to pry injured pilots out of their mechs, and it won't leave my brain, dude
Oh…………..now I can’t stop thinking about it too
And. AND. HEAR ME OUT ALL TWO TEXAID FANS
Vortex was a pilot who got too reckless during a mission and got himself brutally murdered inside his mech. Except. He didn’t actually fully die, his mind got kind of stuck inside his mech. And organisation can’t just waste the perfectly good mech so they clean it and assign it to a new pilot but the pilot dies very quickly. The next one get seriously injured and has to retire after their first mission. Next one goes insane. So is the next one. And the next
Vortex is a cursed “haunted” mech. Worst things always happen to the ones who pilot him.
First Aid has to drag wounded, covered in blood, broken and insane pilots out of his cockpit. Again and again.
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You'll stay still, won't you, little love?
Pairing: Spawn Astarion x F!Reader/Tav
Summary/Setting: Sometime in the beginning of Act 3; you and Astarion are exploring intimacy/sex
Rating/Warnings: M+ / 18+ only please/ Smut with little to no plot / Light BDSM / Soft Dom Astarion vibes / Some mild in game spoilers / PiV / CW / fingering / teasing and overstim if you squint / not beta read or edited too much
Word Count: 2.2K
A/N: I'm a degenerate, idk what else to tell you guys. I’m shocked this came out of my brain, but here we are. Enjoy or be totally flabbergasted or avoid it entirely I don’t know about you all but I simultaneously want to do all three. 💀
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You suspected Astarion enjoyed exploring intimacy with you, perhaps more than he thought he would. The first few weeks after his confession at Moonrise Towers resulted in a rather chaste arrangement between the two of you. Days were filled with stolen pecks and occasional hand holding between missions; nights were spent mostly cuddling half-naked or sometimes simply making out.
When a situation became particularly heated, he would always break away, panting. The flush on his face and the thrumming of his undead heart told you he enjoyed these moments, and his erection pressing into you always became quite the distraction.
Gods, how badly you wanted more. But you had to force yourself to pull back and allow him to take the lead, never pushing further than he was willing to give.
For a few weeks, a bit of grinding and caressing above the waist was as far as Astarion would advance. But shortly after leaving the Shadowlands, something within the silver-haired elf changed. He’d become quite intent on exploring your body almost every night, putting his masterful fingers and tongue to work, almost desperate to watch you come undone.
“You don’t have to, Astarion,” You pant one evening, after a few weeks of nearly daily interactions quite similar to this one. The rogue was working his nimble fingers inside the edge of your small clothes, aiming to delve into your already soaking folds. The bulge of his cock, barely covered by his own underwear, pressed against your rear as he slowly rocked his hips into you.
“I know, my love,” He murmurs, removing his mouth from where it had been tenderly suckling your neck. The vampire licks along the fresh love bite, eliciting a little whimper of pleasure from you. And then he smirks as his fingers find the already engorged bundle of nerves between your legs, causing you to instinctively buck toward him with a whine, “But I want to. I quite like the pretty little sounds you make for me, you know.”
He continues his ministrations for a few moments, reveling in your desperate keens. Nothing else stroked Astarion’s ego quite like this.
“Darling, I’d like to try something different tonight, if you don’t mind.” He purrs as his fingers change their rhythm from the languid circles over your clit to gentle, teasing strokes between your folds. The rogue’s hand dips just enough to tease your entrance with two digits before he retracts again, leaving you mewling in frustration.
You need more. He knows it. And he aimed to give you more tonight, but he couldn’t resist the opportunity to toy with you for a moment or two.
“What is it, Astarion?” You ask breathlessly, as he pauses his movements entirely. You whine again and then turn your head to look at the rogue, where he is smirking down at you, clearly enjoying the desperation he’s elicited from his lover. You are caught between his cock and his hand, slowly rolling your hips back and forth, practically begging the silver-haired elf to fuck you with his fingers.
“I want you to come on my cock tonight.” He responds, arching his eyebrow just slightly, a glimmer of excitement in his eyes, “If that’s what you want, my sweet.”
Your eyes widen in shock, and you swear you feel yourself grow more slick at the mere suggestion. You lick your lips, attempting to moderate your own excitement, trying to avoid making him feel obligated in any way. Astarion’s fingers have resumed their teasing movements, and the newly found wetness causes the vampire to chuckle in delight.
“Judging by the slickness of your perfect little cunt, that certainly is what you want. Am I correct, love?” He purrs into your ear, fangs grazing against your lobe as he rolls his growing erection toward your ass once again.
“Y-yes,” You gasp, and as soon as you do, Astarion rips your underwear from your body before tossing the ruined undergarment across the tent.
“Then you will get what you want on one condition, darling.” He continues, and you feel the engorged head of his cock stroking between your folds from behind. The sensation makes you shiver in delight; you desire nothing more than to have him buried inside you.
“What is it?” You ask, instinctively rolling your hips back against him again, moaning when his length rubs against your clit.
Astarion grabs your hip firmly, digging his nails into the side of your ass and ceasing your movements entirely. You whine and then he’s practically laughing in your ear, you can feel how entertained he is by your predicament. He places a tender kiss on your neck before he purrs, “You aren’t allowed to move one bit, sweet girl, or else I will pull out and leave you with nothing.”
You groan in dismay at this stipulation, “Astarion! I don’t- I don’t know if I can hold still.”
“Oh but my love, the choices are simple,” He continues, his voice playfully condescending as his other hand wanders up to lightly tease a nipple, ripping another little moan from you, “You can either be filled by my cock or by my fingers. So which will it be?”
You whine as the male elf uses one hand to stimulate your breast and the other to barely plunge into your sex again.
“Your cock!” You cry, unable to contain yourself any further, “I want your cock.”
Astarion chuckles, quite content with this response. He slides his erection between your folds again, using your arousal to lubricate his length, “And you’ll stay still, won’t you, little love?”
“Yes, I won’t move,” You agree, and this earns you a delighted groan from the vampire. He reveled in the power dynamics of your coupling, and your willingness to surrender control in the bedroom.
“Good girl,” He coos, and then he’s pressing himself into the entrance of your sex. You moan as the head of his rock-hard cock stretches your cunt; there is a bit of resistance at first; it’s been several weeks since more than two fingers have been inside you, after all.
He takes you inch by inch, slowly dragging himself along your velvet walls. Before long, Astarion’s length has filled you completely, and you’re basking in the sensation of being stretched by your lover.
His breath is ragged behind you as he struggles to remain in control, almost entirely overcome with the desire to simply have his way with you. But that’s not the game tonight, he reminds himself.
In one swift motion he’s rolled you both so that you are straddled over him, your back pressed to his chest. He uses his knees to spread your legs wide, fully opening you up for his seasoned hands to explore. His long fingers drag over your stomach and then travel down between your legs, where they easily find that sensitive nub.
“How does it feel to be sitting atop my cock, darling?” Astarion asks as he slowly, teasingly strokes his slender fingers up and down on your drenched folds. You are seeping arousal at this point, coating him with his well-deserved reward. His cock throbs at the thought.
“Wonderful,” You respond, honestly but breathlessly as you struggle to keep yourself from rolling your hips at all. Your legs are positively shaking with the effort to exert such control, and the little tremors running along your spine are urging the vampire on.
Astarion guides your own hand up to your breasts, where he urges you to tease your own nipple. He palms the flesh of the other breast in one hand as he continues to drag his nimble fingers around your throbbing bud.
You are instinctively clenching around him now, your body desperate to milk every ounce of seed from the vampire. Astarion himself is shaking with the amount of restraint it’s taking him to not lift his hips and fuck up into your warmth.
You cannot restrain yourself any longer, your hips buck and you’re instantly rewarded with the delicious sensation of Astarion’s length running against your walls. But then a sharp, stinging smack singes the side of your ass, and a shocked gasp escapes your lips.
“What did I say, darling? Be a good girl and hold still. Try that again and I will pull out.” The rogue warns while speeding up his efforts on your clit.
You sharply pinch your own nipple, trying desperately to keep yourself from moving any more. But gods, how badly you want to. You’re so close. Your walls are clenching tighter and tighter, and the sensation is causing Astarion to grunt in response. He’s trying just as desperately to hold back as you quiver around him, tempting him to do the exact opposite.
His hips buck just once before he regains control and stills himself, but gods the walls of your tight pussy wrapped around him felt divine. The sharp thrust made you moan loudly in delight, and your entire body was shivering from the self-control you were using to hold still. He felt you standing on the precipice of pleasure, so close to the edge. You just needed a little push to fall into a world of ecstasy, and that, he could provide.
“Let go, little love. Come for me,” He whispers hoarsely, and the command sends you tumbling over the edge. You feel the wave crashing over you, rippling through your sex and up to your spine. You clasp your hand over your mouth as you whine, signaling your release.
You are mid-orgasm when Astarion roughly grabs both sides of your hips and hisses, “Fuck it.”
And then he’s thrusting upwards, repeatedly burying himself inside you, intent on fucking you through the second half of your orgasm. You cry out in pleasure as the vampire moans into the side of your neck, continuing to piston himself into you as he chases his own release.
Once again, his fingers find their way to your over-sensitive clit and he’s working at it frantically, in the practiced motion he knows to be your favorite. You keen and try to clamp your legs shut; the sensation is almost too much. But Astarion growls and forces your legs open with his knees as he quickly brings you to the edge of another orgasm.
Your lover is panting with exertion as he holds back his own release. Through gritted teeth he urges you on, using the hand not playing with your clit to grab your hip and slam you down to meet his thrusts.
“One more, darling. You can do one more, can’t you? Let go, I’ve got you.” He coaxes, his voice near breathless but filled with gravel.
“Oh, fuck!” Is all you can respond as the second orgasm rips through you, stronger than the first. You’re seeing stars as your pussy throbs around Astarion’s shaft, rewarding his efforts with a deliciously tight grip and another gush of your delectable juices. The high-pitched, uninhibited whine that escapes you while you’re drowning in ecstasy is music to the rogue’s ears.
As your greedy cunt clenches around him again during that second wave of pleasure, Astarion emits a strangled moan of his own.
He buries his face in your neck as he soon struggles to buck forward, shakily dragging his sensitive, swollen length in and out of your walls just a few more times before he buries himself balls-deep. Thick ropes of his spend shoot up into your warmth as he groans, consumed by his own euphoria behind you. His cock continues to pulse for a few moments longer, urged on by the relentless spasming of your sex around him.
Both of you are heaving and shaking slightly once he finally relaxes his legs. You’re still laying atop him as he slowly roams his hands over your body, idly stroking your curves in soft, soothing motions.
“I thought you said we couldn’t move,” You finally say, voice completely hoarse from the cries of ecstasy you uttered moments ago.
“I said you couldn’t move, darling. I didn’t say anything about me.” The vampire responds with a self-satisfied smirk as he playfully nips at your earlobe, “Are you truly complaining that I did all the work?”
“No,” You respond, finally pulling yourself off of the vampire, releasing the slick combination of your respective arousals as it drips between the two of you. “But at some point I’d like it to be me making all that effort to bring pleasure to you.”
He pulls you down beside him with a little hum. You pull the blanket over the two of you. No other words are exchanged as you drift to sleep, thoroughly exhausted by the events of the day and this satisfying but unexpected evening. Astarion watches you sleep, and for the first time he allows himself to acknowledge that he might also like to let you have a bit of control in the bedroom… perhaps next time.
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