#KINK IS MORALLY NEUTRAL

[unbearable-lightness-of-ink]

idk who needs to hear this but if you're trying to write an evil alternate universe you gotta do something other than just make the characters into bdsm, that's not evil, that's just the normal universe with some added kink

[puppygirl-eclaire]

kinks and bdsmtest under the cut i guess

kinks/fetishes i am into:

cnc/somno

incest/siscon/fauxcest/twincest

feedism kinda

occasional violence

petplay

aphrodisiacs/possession/corruption/hypnosis

robotfucking/monsterfucking

bondage/chastity/breathplay but not bdsm

wedgies

lactation/milking

knotting.

parasytes/symbiotes

inflation/expansion

zombies/ghosts/technically necrophilia

insects. and some other animals. specifically getting bred by them/laying their eggs in me.

glue/sticky stuck/stuck fetish

getting stuck or merged together

slime/latex

quicksand/tar (one of my firsts, very into this)

vore

amputation

petrification/inanimate tf

wetting/omo

diapers/ageplay

kinks/fetishes i am not into:

feet

blood and gore

death/snuff? depends on the situation, how its written, chances of revival, other factors

raceplay (who? what? never hear about this one except for peoples dni or unacceptable fetish lists. do not understand)

pedophilia (dont think this counts as a kink/fetish but if i didnt list it people would assume i have it)

[whimperaudioconnoisseur]

whenever you’re tempted to get on a moralistic high horse because you’re not into age play or fauxcest or whatever squicks you personally have, remember that taboo is hot so your disapproval will simply help people cum harder <3 hope this helps!

[raven]

i feel like some people on this website conceptualize everything purely intellectually. but the thing is that you do not exist in a vaccuum. so it doesnt matter that "all kinks, no matter what, are worth supporting" is a morally neutral statement. because no im not going to tell consenting adults what they can do in the bedroom. but it ALWAYS gets out of hand. there's always going to be a group of genuinely sick freaks who want to abuse children who use those points as their rallying cry. which is why there are some things you simply cannot do! like, ideas become reality. theres someone out there who will take it further than you think. and you simply are closing your eyes to the harm that can cause

[patchoulimodelo]

you know like kink does massive both physical and psychological harm to everyone involved if you do it wrong or with the wrong people even if a lot of people seem to not want to admit that, but that just puts kink in the same category as like drugs where people should be informed of the potential long term consequences and then allowed to do it anyways

[wineanddineloseyourmind]

Baldur’s Gate 3 is all fun and games until you realise you discovered a new kink during your Dark Urge playthrough 💀

[caruliaa]

i think if my father was a good man hed be a fan of brennan lee mulligan . but well i dont really know if he is a good man or not so whether he would be a fan right now is up for debate

[carbonatedeverclear]

being neutral about other peoples kinks is necessary by the way. when consenting adults are doing things between consenting adults, and you prioritize your discomfort over their autonomy and right to exist safely in a space without having their private interests excavated and recontextualized to make them out to be predators, that says way more about your willingness to place yourself in the position of moral authority than it does about them and you deputizing yourself on the basis of nothing but vibes and your personal traumas makes you very dangerous politically.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

are there any kinks or fetishes that do justify like some sort of psychological evaluation or other moral judgement or are all of them okay

I need you guys to understand that just having a kink is completely morally neutral and not a cause for alarm. please for the love of god learn the difference between getting horny about something unusual and actual harmful behavior. crucially, the act of being horny by itself is not a behavior that can cause any harm to anyone. the cause for concern is when someone is acting in a way that is harmful or otherwise unsafe for themselves or others.

[eroticcannibal]

Porn is morally neutral. Sex work is morally neutral. SEX is morally neutral. Freaky kinks are morally neutral. People chosing to do harm with them doesn't make them evil. Evil people will commit evil with whatever tools are available to them, if you eliminate all of these things you will not reduce the amount of evil in the world. You will not reduce harm, you will not reduce the number of victims. You will achieve nothing of value.

[vampgirlgem]

Exactly! people will literally put leashes on their own children, and obviously that's not a sexual thing, you don't need to police that. Therefore, a human wearing a leash is not inherently sexual.

This also applies to the vast majority of other kinks as well. they're things that people happen to find arousing for one reason or another but are not inherently sexual, that's why they're recognized as kinks and not just sex.

Nothing is inherently sexual except for y'know, actual sex. kink is such an incredibly broad category and humans can and will sexualize literally anything they want. there are people who have a kink for pool floaty toys. people who have a kink for plushies. people who have a kink for smoking cigarettes. but you don't object when you see these things in public, just because the person holding them might be horny about it.

So you have to draw the line somewhere, right? after you stop people from wearing leashes and pup hoods and dog ears and leather harnesses, what's next? are you gonna ban people from wearing big stompy leather boots because some people might think about grinding on them? are you gonna stop people from wearing open-toed shoes because some people think feet are sexy? are you gonna ban rich, blonde, white women from buying Wonderbread at high prices bc that one guy finds it hot? are you gonna pull a 2018 tumblr and ban "female-presenting nipples" from showing in public, requiring people to wear pasties?

Are you gonna start worrying that people might secretly wearing discreet sex toys in public and getting off to the exhibitionism and demand that everyone drops trow before entering the local grocery so you can check?

Or are you going to catalogue all the kinks of every single person in your society and ban them specifically from engaging in those particular behaviors?

My point is, any "fixes" for restricting kink in public will result in policies and procedures that are undeniably more invasive, making more "innocents" uncomfortable than there ever would have been if you just let people wear a leash outside sometimes.

If they haven't been exposed to anything like it before, a child isn't going to see someone walking around with a pup hood and immediately feel sexual discomfort and fear. they're gonna say "look look! that person's wearing a silly doggy mask!" and move on with their day.

I feel like walking someone on a leash should be like the perfect example of "kink in public" that can't and shouldn't be banned or controlled like it should be the poster child for free expression of sexuality in public that doesn't hurt anyone but instead it's somehow what ppl seem to rail against the most? doesn't make sense

[violetbeauregut]

In Defense of Feedism

I was absolutely struck when I read  @fatliberation‘s beautiful, vulnerable post the other day. They always have brilliant ideas and they show unfailing grace and kindness to everyone, despite a ton of rude, ill-informed backlash (I would 100% recommend following them). 

I can’t stop thinking about the reactions to that post and how incredibly strange it is to have to tiptoe around feedism (to use an umbrella term) in a movement that is supposed to be centered around ending the oppression of fat people. 

I can understand why fat people who are not feedists would be weary or even repulsed by this kink. From the outside it may seem degrading and manipulative that the language and insults used against fat people are replicated in the bedroom. It is also harmful to be fetishized when you do not want to be fetishized, both in real life and online. 

But these are the only points I’ve heard against feedism that I consider to be a legitimate argument in the discourse of fat liberation, as these are the only claims against feedism I’ve come across that are not based in fatphobia. If you are in favor of fat liberation, then you must see fatness as morally neutral. Therefore, the choice to gain weight is not inherently “good” or “bad,” it is instead a matter of autonomy– a right that should be granted to everyone, regardless of size. 

The major issue with feedism is the same issue that permeates all kink and, by extension, all sexuality: consent. There are feedists, particularly feeders, who fetishize all fat people, regardless of their wishes; feedists who try to force fat people to participate in kink with or without their knowledge or permission. This is abhorrent behavior; there are no excuses for it. But the problem here is a violation of consent and not the kink itself. The unethical practice of kink does not make the kink unethical. And while feedees are often disregarded in discussions of feedism and fat liberation (which I have already talked about in depth here), there are most assuredly fat feedees, like myself, who are fully consenting to fat fetish play. 

While I can only speak for myself, I know that I am not the only person who developed this kink because of weight-related trauma. When you grow up fat, when you are forced to go to Weight Watchers at seven years old, your brain comes to associate fat as taboo and taboo as sexy–but it goes beyond an attraction to something risky or frowned upon. 

I live my life as a fat woman; I am fat at the doctor’s office and fat in tiny airplane seats and I am especially fat as a feedee. No matter if I’m engaging with my kink or not, I am fat and I don’t get to stop being fat outside of my bedroom. Out of all of the scenarios where I am existing in my fat body, engaging in kink play is the only one where I am experiencing pleasure because of my body, not despite it. It’s arousing to be praised for the thing that once made you hate yourself. It’s arousing to engage with something you fear or that has harmed you in a safe, controlled context where you have all the power to make it stop. 

What anti-feedist fat liberationists need to understand is that feedism is, at its core, a resistance to fatphobia. When you see things that are typically fatphobic in feedist play– terms like “pig,” “cow,” “tubby,” etc. and comments about being “out of shape” or “ruined” by fat– it is not a replication of weight stigma, but a subversion of it. Feedism takes the harmful stereotypes of fatness and robs them of their power by putting them in a new context; a context where fatness is so desirable that feedists want more of it. By using the language and misconceptions of fatness to give and receive pleasure instead of to oppress, feedism not only creates a safe space to heal from fatphobic trauma, but it empowers fatness– it empowers fat people, which is supposed to be the goal of fat liberation.

[fangsnclaws]

I think people who are talking about the nonhuman packer discourse, but use "packers aren't sexual" as their primary defense of and reason why nonhuman packers are okay, are actually entirely missing the point of why this discourse is a problem.

Even when people do consider packers sexual, it does not change the fact that a nonhuman packer is still just as acceptable and harmless as a human-shaped packer. Something being nonsexual does not put it on the "morally acceptable" side of the argument. A lack of sex or sexuality does not make something inherently more acceptable and morally "pure." Sex and sexuality is morally neutral. Kinks are morally neutral. A lot of people, alterhumans included, are sexual beings, and genitals are (usually) a part of that equation - yes, even when they are tentacles or have a knot.

Thinking that weird things are only acceptable if they are nonsexual is a harmful puritanical and anti-queer mindset. Just because something is not your particular cup of tea does not mean it is harmful; yes, even when sex is involved. Especially when sex is involved. This is the exact same discourse that happened in the furry fandom; which has historically been hated because of how queer the community is. Considering the altH community is overwhelmingly queer, why the hell are we okay with bending the knee to anti-sex puritans as soon as something is more involved then missionary PIV sex with the lights off?

Nonhuman packers aren't okay just because "packers are nonsexual." Nonhuman packers are okay because there is literally no harm being done, regardless of if it is sexual or not. And worrying about what strangers do with their genitals is unhinged. Analyze your own disgust reactions I promise you that you will be better off for it.

[sepublic]

            I find it interesting that even in the epilogue, four years after Camila has had time to be more acquainted with the Boiling Isles under non-threatening circumstances, she’s still creeped out by it. And this is fine! The narrative isn’t condemning her for it. It’s not demanding that she enjoy these things like Luz does; It’s just asking for her to respect its existence, and to support Luz’s interest in it and love her too.

            In For the Future, we see Camila horrified by what she encounters in the Boiling Isles; But she also spends the whole episode pushing through it anyway for Luz’s sake, being there for her as much as she can. Because she knows these are just feelings and nothing more, and she’s choosing to be kind in spite of them.

            By contrast, in this same episode we find out Belos does feel empathy and guilt towards his brother and nephew, he wasn’t purely 100% only interested in what they could do for him; And yet, he’s still just as cruel and violent towards them. He’s still cruel and violent towards witches and demons, sometimes using the ‘tragedy’ of Caleb as a justification. Hell, he even resents the ghosts for making him feel guilty, telling them to “Shut up.”

            Isn’t that fascinating? Disgust is portrayed as a morally neutral thing. It’s not an indictator of morality, it doesn’t mean something is bad… But it doesn’t mean the person who feels it is bad, either, people don’t consider that enough. It’s just a gut reaction. Sometimes people have internalized biases they need to work through, but other times, it’s pretty harmless as long as they’re self-aware and don’t do anything bad over it; This even applies to the process of unlearning the aforementioned biases.

            Likewise, empathy and guilt don’t actually, necessarily make you a good person. The example with Belos shows how some people will actually be crueler because of empathy, because they resent people for being upset, and thus making them feel upset because they naturally empathize. Hence those who get angry at people in pain and need for “ruining their vibe,” because now they feel bad too.

            There’s a juxtaposition in how Camila seems genuinely more scared and creeped out by the isles on a visceral level than Belos, and yet Camila has the common sense to still respect and fight for its existence; Whereas Belos chooses to make a mountain out of a molehill because it’s not just hatred, it’s pride. It all boils down to his ego at the end of the day. In many ways, other characters struggle with dilemmas more difficult than Belos’, yet still do better than he ever has.

            This all plays into my thesis that TOH is arguing your feelings are secondary to your actions, and that the latter is what decides whether you’re a “good” person or not. In the end, someone who’s had a good life and was a dick for selfish reasons, only to choose to be better, is more sympathetic and morally superior than someone who suffered a million unfair grievances, and proceeded to dole out a million unfair grievances, with no sign of stopping; Especially from an IRL perspective, and I think our IRL feelings sometimes influence how we engage with media, and vice-versa.

            That’s why the finale –and the show as a whole– emphasizes choices, over inherent, instinctual feelings. A decent chunk of Camila’s arc could be summarized by the word Squick; In the sense that it’s meant to describe things that one feels personal disgust and discomfort towards, but otherwise has no moral condemnation or problem with; It’s just a Me thing, is the point of Squick. Camila is like that sex-repulsed ace who nevertheless supports kink at Pride.

            That gets me to how my ruminations were prompted by a similar observation; How some people lump sex-repulsed aces in with the oppressive Puritans who hate sex in anything, but that’s not true at all. Obviously there’s the rare Exception, but as a whole, sex-repulsed aces are on the side of other queers who ARE sexual and are demanding to let these things be normalized; It’s not for them, but they have no moral condemnation and will fight for it in solidarity anyway, especially since both are hated by the system regardless. Sound familiar?

[endlessthxxghts]

Liquid Gold

Frankie Morales x afab!reader || W/C: 2.7k (a oneshot)

Summary: Frankie gets turned on by your love for caramel. (Read a tiny continuation of these two here, titled Comfortable!)

Content/Warnings: Pics above are for aesthetic purposes only. No physical descriptions of reader, everything is neutral. I am in fact a nonbinary girly who describes their coochie with she/her pronouns LMFAO, and both you and Frankie do that here. Feminine pet names (querida, cariño, sweet girl). You also really love caramel - like a lot. SMUT 18+ MDNI. Inappropriate use of caramel. Food play. Kitchen sex. Hickey/marking kink. Lots of tongue action. Breast worship. Cunnilingus (He's Frankie the munch, what can I say?). Fingering/finger fucking. P in V unprotected sex. Creampie... hint of a breeding kink (I'll be tame with it.. for now..). Frankie, the aftercare KING!! (Please let me know if I've missed anything xoxo.)

A/N: I was eating caramel and apples, and I couldn't stop groaning at the sweetness LMFAOOO I really fucking love caramel. Then I got horny and started thinking about Frankie. Don't we love the ways inspiration strikes? Hope you enjoy my delulus. Much love, my babies.

MASTERLIST || NOTIFS BLOG

“Mmm,” you moan. “So fucking good,” you mutter to yourself, licking the tips of your fingers to clean the residue. 

“...Querida?” Frankie calls out from the living room. “What are you, uh…” he pauses to take a deep breath in and out, his cock stirring at the faint lewd noises coming from the kitchen. “What are you doing, baby?” 

“Mmm,” you hum again in delight before responding back to him. “Nothing, baby, just grabbing a snack, I’ll be right there,” you say. 

Okay, his curiosity is definitely getting the better of him. He rises from his place on the couch, and nothing would prepare him for what his eyes were about to witness. 

You’re leaning over the counter, a plate below you with neatly cut apple slices, and you have a bottle of caramel in one hand. Your other hand is placed underneath the spout as you squeeze a dollop onto your finger, the thick liquid running down your digit before you have a chance to stop it. You quickly bring your finger into your mouth, your eyes fluttering shut at the sweetness, another delicious vibration escaping your throat. 

Frankie literally has to perch himself against the nearest wall to stop his knees from buckling. He knows how much you love your caramel, but he forgets just how much. The thud of his broad body against the wall is what forces your eyes open. 

“Oh,” you gasp with a smile. “Hi, baby. Did you want some?” You ask him, sucking your finger once more for good measure, not wanting to make a mess at your impulse decision of practically drinking the sugary substance from its bottle. 

You watch as his eyes track your finger’s movement, his gaze coming back up to linger on your lips for an extra moment. “N-no, that’s okay, querida,” he replies, distracted. 

You tilt your head in response, trying to gauge where his thoughts are right now. Then, you look down. 

Oh.

He’s thinking with his other head. 

You break away from your side of the counter, caramel still in hand, and you make your way in front of him. Putting your body flush against his, you put your free hand on his chest, reaching for his chin with your thumb and forefinger. “You sure you don’t want any, baby?” You ask him, voice teasingly smooth. You nudge his mouth open; his tongue flattening out immediately for you. “Just give it a little try, it’s so sweet.” 

You let the caramel dribble onto his tongue, and he retreats the muscle back inside when he thinks you’re done squeezing, but you don’t stop, letting it drip onto his pouty bottom lip. Your thumb is quick to run over it, not giving his tongue a chance to clean the mess you made. 

Before he knows it, you’re pulling his mouth into yours, your tongue briefly darting around your thumb before you’re sucking his bottom lip into your mouth, nearly dropping the bottle of caramel with how addicting your senses are being consumed. 

His response is just as quick, his arms snaking around your waist and backing you into the edge of the counter, pushing himself deeper into your mouth as your tongues overlap each other. The hand on his jaw is now wrapped tightly in his brown curls, keeping his mouth messily against yours. 

You feel his hands tap against the bottom of your ass cheeks, and you take the hint. Settling the bottle down, you pull yourself up on the counter. Finally, the kiss breaks, but now he’s reaching for the hem of your top, flinging it over your head, letting it land only God knows where. 

Frankie’s crowding your space, looking down at you, his chocolate brown eyes now pure black with lust. “Can I have another taste, querida?” He rasps into your mouth. 

“Y-yeah,” you stutter, your mind too turned on to register what he’s really asking. His hand is on the bottle instantly, squeezing a thick line of caramel across your naked chest. You choke on your breath at the sensation, your eyes fixated on the golden liquid starting to drip down, nearly reaching your nipples. 

Frankie takes a step back to admire his work before he’s diving right in, the caramel bottle tossed back onto the counter as his hands find their home on your ass, pulling your hips into his as you lean back, giving him the space he needs to lick up his mess. 

You feel his teeth softly graze the tops of your breasts, Frankie sucking with just the right amount of pressure for pretty little fireworks to ignite across your chest. 

“Oh, fuck, Frankie-” you moan, eyes rolling back at the feeling. “Didn’t know- shit- didn’t know caramel is what does it for you,” you say with a weak smirk, your last few words higher in pitch than normal. 

“It doesn’t,” he retorts, his tongue flicking across your nipple. “You do,” he growls, reaching for your other candy-glazed nipple. 

Between your legs are fucking drenched, and fuck, he feels so good attached to your chest like this, but you need more—she needs more. 

You’re yanking Frankie’s curls, pulling him off of you to look into his eyes—wild and desperate, he’s looking at you—his lips and chin glistening with a shine only sugar could provide. Fuck, you want that mouth somewhere else. You tell him as such. A cheeky grin spreads across his face. “Don’t have to tell me twice,” he says leaning back in, kissing each breast for good luck before he reaches for the caramel once more, letting another thick drop fall down your sternum and belly, daring to drip in places it shouldn’t. 

He follows the caramel’s path, open-mouthed kisses surfing down your torso, his tongue not letting any of it go to waste. 

The lower he goes, the needier you become. “Please- please, baby- need you,” you heave, your head falling back between your shoulder blades at the overwhelming fire roaring between your legs. 

“Paciencia, mi amor,” he whispers, kissing where the hem of your bottoms meets your tummy. “You’ve got me, cariño.”

His fingers reach for your bottoms, pulling them down swiftly as you raise yourself up to make it an easy removal. 

Wasting no time, his mouth is kissing hotly on your mound, his tongue swirling your pubic area as your hips buck further into his face. He drags his mouth lower, a shiny trail of his sweet saliva coating every inch of you as he brings your throbbing bundle of nerves into his mouth and sucks—a near pornographic wail reverberates the kitchen walls, your back nearly giving way if it wasn’t for your other hand being planted onto the countertop. 

“Jesus- Fuck, Frankie, oh my God, ohmyGod-” you pant, your chest rising and falling at an erratic rate as his mouth never stops its assault on your clit. One of his hands makes their way towards your entrance, Frankie’s two middle fingers surfing through your wetness before he prods inside with ease, his fingers always filling you up in a way your own fingers never could. 

He curves his fingers just right, hitting your release button, forcing your floodgates open with absolutely no warning. “F-fuck, fuck! Fuck, baby, I’m cumming, oh, fuck, mmm just like that- shit-”

He pulls his mouth off of you, pulling away just enough to watch as you cream all over his fingers—your caramel dripping down his fingers as his mouth positively waters at the sight. “Jesus, hermosa,” Frankie breathes, his hot breaths fanning across your center sending an aftershock of shivers down your spine. 

His fingers come to a halt, slowly slipping out of you as his eyes remain fixated at the sight. “Tan perfecta, mi amor,” he says mindlessly. You watch with bated breath to see what he does next. 

He brings his fingers up to his mouth, eyes slowly rolling into the back of his head as he licks his fingers clean, practically purring at the way you taste. You whimper at the sight, an entire new wave of arousal leaks from your sex—crying again, for more. 

“Frankie,” you whine. 

For a second, Frankie genuinely got lost in your taste, forgetting everything around him but the way your flavor sits so addictingly across his taste buds. He could spend forever drinking from you if he could. “Lo siento, cariño, lo siento,” he says, truly apologetic. “You just taste so fucking good, I can’t help myself,” his inflection turning desperate in those last few words. He pulls you in for a kiss, a tinge of your own flavor melting onto your tongue. “How do you want me?” he says softly into your lips. 

“Inside, Morales. Please,” you whine into his mouth as you reach for the bulge of his sweatpants, your legs spreading open impossibly more, begging him to end whatever coy teasing game you started. “You already made a mess on me,” you tell him. Bringing your mouth to his ear, you whisper: “Now you need to make another one inside.”

“Oh, fuck, baby,” Frankie groans, throwing his head back to contain himself. When he brings his gaze back down to you, you can see the determination behind his eyes. “That’s what you want, huh? Want me inside you? Want me dripping from you all day, huh, my sweet girl?” He’s yanking his sweats down. He steps closer to you, lips a hair’s width away from each other. “Wanna be filled up with my caramel?” He smirks. 

That was the dumbest shit you have ever heard, and your facial expression reveals that, yet it has your pussy clenching on nothing. Of course, Frankie catches it. “Oh, yeah, she does,” he says, running his fingers along your seam before he’s guiding the head of his cock into you. 

“Oh, God-” you moan, the girth of him is always a stretch no matter how many times he’s been inside you. “So fucking big- fuck-” your fingers digging into the nape of his neck as he pushes himself to the hilt. 

His one arm is wrapped behind you, his hand planted on the counter right where your ass sits to keep you steady as he begins to move—pulling completely out with just the tip at your entrance before slamming back inside, sobs pouring from your lips at the pleasurable plain hitting all the right places. “Fuck- so fucking tight,” he grunts, his vein popping out of his neck with every exertion of his hips. “Feel so fucking good wrapped around me, hermosa, shit-” 

“Frankie, p-please. T-touch me, k-kiss me, something, please, baby, I-” you plead, both hands reaching for his face now, grasping for his lips to be on yours. 

His mouth slams into yours in a bruising embrace, his mouth immediately latching onto your tongue to lap up the sweetness still laced in your spit. He’s groaning into your mouth, hips moving faster, harder—the wet slick of your pussy getting louder with each thrust, putting you both in a lust-filled haze. 

His hand snakes to your front, the pads of his fingers finding your clit, giving you the extra push you need to reach your high. “I feel her fluttering, baby, she’s close,” he mutters against you. “Cum for me, mamita, and I’ll fucking fill you up, baby, come on.”

“Oh, fuck- yes, baby, oh God-!” you’re screaming, eyes clamped shut and head thrown back as you soak his cock, nearly pushing him out of you with the force of your release. 

“Mierda- just like that, fuck-” Frankie moans, his chest heaving as he struggles to keep himself from finishing just yet, reveling in the sight of you fall apart around him. 

His hips have slowed, giving you a moment of breath, but you’re not having it. Your hips start to move on their own accord, wrapping your legs around Frankie’s waist as you buck your hips into him, whining for him to move, for him to fuck you, for him to- 

“Fucking cum inside me, Fish.”

Fish. 

That brings him to attention immediately—his hips that were once meeting your every push and pull, now stuttering as his release covers every inch of your walls. You smile wide at the full feeling inside of you even as he begins to soften and slip out of you. 

The room is filled with both of your heavy breathing, your gaze stuck on your man as he watches his cum start to leak from your used hole. 

“Christ, baby,” he breathes, his fingers collecting the spend dripping out of you only to bring it back to your opening, slowly pushing his fingers inside. Your body, now reaching oversensitivity, jerks at the feeling, a small whimper leaves your mouth. “Sorry,” he says sheepishly. “Just putting it back where it needs to be,” he tells you with a smirk, your tummy fluttering at his statement. 

He’s helping slide you off the counter now, hands gripped tightly on your waist knowing your legs must be pure jelly. “Let’s get you cleaned up, mi amor,” he says softly. “You’re all sticky,” he says in a mock exasperation, as if he wasn’t the reason for this fucking mess. 

You slap his chest, rolling your eyes as your feet hit the ground. “If I’m still sticky, it’s because you didn’t do your job properly,” you huff. 

He meets your gaze once more, licking his bottom lip before he speaks. “Oh, yeah? Telling me I need to go in one more time?” He asks, leaning in with his tongue out to reach for your chest. 

“AGH, NO,” you screech, holding your hands up to keep him away. “Last I checked, I was just trying to eat my apples-” you pause at the realization. “Oh my god, wait!!! My apples!!!” You break from Frankie’s hold, turning to see your plate of sweet, crisp apples—now brown and spoiled. “My apples,” you say softly, your lips jutting out into a frown. 

Frankie chuckles behind you, grabbing ahold of your waist as he guides you to the bathroom. “I’ll cut you a new one, sweet girl. Let’s just clean my mess up, yeah?” 

“Okay,” you submit. 

He runs your favorite soft wash cloth under warm water, adding a drop of your favorite soap to get any stubborn sugar stains. “But, Frankie?”

“Sí, cariño?” 

“Leave the mess between my legs.” 

“Baby-” he says, slightly concerned not wanting you to get a UTI or anything. 

“I’ll go pee,” you cut him off. “Just let me sit in the feeling of you for a little bit. Please?”

“Fine,” he says softly. “But we’re showering after I feed you your apple.”

“After you feed me?” You ask, your cheeks going hot at the tenderness of the gesture. 

“Yeah, baby,” he says nonchalantly as he kisses your forehead, wiping around your sensitive center. He hangs the cloth to dry before putting it in the hamper. He grabs one of your favorite comfort shirts from your drawer, putting it on you, before he’s guiding you back to the kitchen. 

In the midst of your rabid behavior, neither of you realized that caramel bottle toppled over, long enough for nearly a quarter of the bottle to make its way through. 

“MY CARAMEL!” You cry, never wanting to let the universe’s best creation go to waste. 

Frankie stifles a laugh, not wanting to upset you but finding your love for caramel so endearing. “Baby, it’s okay, we can buy more,” he comforts, rubbing your back as you freeze at the sight. 

“I know,” you say. “I just hate to waste such- such yummy things. This is literally liquid fucking gold,” you add, gesturing to the spilt thick liquid blessing your countertop. 

“I thought what was inside of you was your liquid gold?” He says with his soft chocolate puppy eyes, gesturing to your cum-filled pussy. 

“Oh my god, Frankie, what-” you start, unsure of whether to laugh or be weirded out at what just came out of his mouth. “Please just cut my apple,” you say defeated, slapping your forehead as your body begins to shake with laughter. 

As Frankie peels the skin off your fruit—he knows how much it makes your throat itchy—he mutters something that you couldn’t quite pick up. 

“What was that?” You ask again. 

“You know I’m right,” he says as he clears his throat, eyes focused on his task. “Your liquid gold isn’t the caramel,” he adds for an unnecessary confirmation. 

“Francisco-”

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

You stay silent for a moment. 

“Shut up.” 

He grins triumphantly, squeezing a generous amount of your second favorite liquid gold equivalent all over your juicy apple.

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@pedrostories

[kiame-sama]

Warnings; yandere, yandere relationship, yandere behavior, possessive behavior, somnophilia flavored, dirty talk, objectification, obsessed yandere, slight corruption kink, small spoilers for Astarion's worst kept secret, blood, biting kink, mention of Astarion's past, gender neutral reader, neutral good reader (folk-hero type), opposites attract, spoilers for game opening, slight spoilers for possible non-combatant followers, owl-bear cub named Hootsie (if you know what this name is from, I like your taste in media), adult themes, mention of nsfw topics,

~~~~~~~~

How could this have happened to him? Of all people, Astarion was no chivalrous rube unlike the odd being he found himself following the command of. Truly, he didn't understand just how he wound up a follower to someone who put others before themselves. The damned tadpole in his brain being the only reason he would stand to be near someone so annoyingly virtuous... or so he tells himself.

Truth was, though he didn't like the mundane and menial tasks he found himself doing for the betterment of others, he did actually like the goody-two-shoes he followed the lead of. They were... hells, how to describe them?

Almost every choice was made to help someone against unfair treatment or wrongful accusations. Each decision was weighed carefully on the moral scale and done with well-being in mind in almost every way. They were one of those folk-hero types who stood up for the little guy and extended help to those in honest need.

They were infuriating and annoyingly righteous. ...They were enchanting.

Astarion found himself practically crooning over them, especially during fights. Someone able to so ruthlessly kill and command others was truly an impressive character. From the strategy and careful thinking to the quick and merciless endings, Astarion barely kept himself from swooning.

Even beyond the battlefield, he noticed little things they did that made him practically melt. Those small habits and unconscious behaviors that they had making him smile ever so slightly whenever he noticed them. He wasn't staring or obsessing, mind you, just... observing.

What truly surprised him was what happened when he decided to push his luck and try to feed on them and their delectable blood. Despite how quietly he had approached them, they woke up right as he was going to sink his fangs into their neck. Even though he knew he was likely about to be slain, he still tried to stand up for himself and justify his actions. Much to his surprise and genuine delight, the defacto leader did not stake him in the heart, choosing instead to speak with that same calm timbre and hear him out.

It was then they did something he swore would have made his heart flutter if it still had a beat. They told him that he was welcome to feed on their blood- within reason- and asked him to feed from them whenever he felt the thirst coming on too strongly. It was a kindness he had never expected from someone, and he agreed that feeding on (y/n) was better than trying to feed on any of the other companions they traveled with.

Since then, Astarion would feed on animals or enemies mostly, but always kept enough room in his stomach to feed on (y/n) at night. Something about their blood made him shiver in delight and the taste drove him to crave more and more. It was as if his dear (y/n)'s blood called to him and crooned sweet nothings into his mind.

He would never take more than offered, of course, but there were evenings where he was quite tempted to take more. Not more blood, but more of (y/n).

Sex was a good way to burn off steam and was good enough with almost anyone, but the thought of passionate sex with (y/n)... oh, it was simply delicious. He had propositioned once or twice, but the subtlety in how he asked seemed to make the true meaning of his words go right past them. They either didn't reciprocate or truly did not understand the delicate way he approached the matter and so thought he was talking about something else. He knew he would have to be more straightforward with them in the future about his desire for their blood and body, but for now he would satisfy himself however he could.

It was late in the evening and the others were fast asleep as he approached his beloved on silent feet. Their faithful dog- Scratch- and the aptly named owl-bear cub Hootsie were snoozing back to back on the other side of the camp, so they shouldn't interrupt him.

As Astarion leaned over the kindly ally, he couldn't help but reach up to slowly trail his fingers over their soft cheek. They looked absolutely scrumptious laying there with an unbothered expression, their breathing soft and quiet. Though he was thirsty and quite ready for a drink, he held himself back in favor of marveling over his precious little hero.

To think, some morally-righteous nobody had entangled his unbeating heart and enamored him so much he even considered charity. Charity for Hells sakes!

A soft whine escapes their lips as he slowly turned their head to the side, feeling a sense of pride when he saw the two puncture marks on the side of their neck where he fed from them regularly. Their blood was so pure and sweet, he could barely get by with the few tastes he would take every evening. Perhaps he had their heroic tendencies to thank for the extremely pure blood that he enjoyed feasting on.

He found himself so protective of their blood that any time they got hurt in battle, he could feel the rage pull at his mind and begin to consume him. As far as Astarion was concerned, all of (Y/n)'s blood belonged to him. Even one drop wasted was a drop he could have had, and the thought of their blood being so casually wasted like that... it set a fury in him.

Of course, after the battle he always offered to lick their wounds, but they seemed to think he was joking and laughed it off. What he wouldn't give to have them say 'yes' to his proposition and simply let him love on their wounds while going down on them.

Even at that moment, the warm scent of their body made bliss run through him as he decided to risk getting caught. He slowly moved their clothing so he could marvel at the exposed flesh of their stomach. With a light touch, he made sure to gently drag his tongue over their front, groaning to himself in response to their appetizing taste. All he wanted was to ravage them as they lay there and take it from him, but he still had plenty of self restraint.

"What I wouldn't give to cover you up in bites, Darling."

Astarion decided to stop pushing his luck when his thirst tugged at his self-control impatiently. He could always go back to helping himself after he got a drink from his favorite source.

Even though he had bitten them countless times over, he still felt a certain chill run through him at being able to sink his fangs in once more. The warm splash of blood against his tongue made an almost pathetic whimper escape his throat, greedily drinking down the flavorful ambrosia. All too soon, he had to pull away and staunch his desire for more until the next time he got to feed on his beloved.

"Don't worry, Dearest. I will make damn sure you can never get away from me no matter what. Then we can embrace as long as we wish. I'll rip the others to shreds for you, love. You'll never get to leave me."