#cw vision loss
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intergalacticstarlight · 4 months ago
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She hears him.
Even though she's screaming in an ancient, animalistic and primal language that she isn't even entirely sure that she herself understands.
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Even though her veins are pulsating and beaded sweat is dripping down her temples and joining the tears at her cheeks.
Even as the inky blackness soaks in alongside of the agonizing pain, her entire past, present and future on fire and she can do nothing more than shout until her throat is raw and she can taste the blood. She hears him.
Every syllable, every reconsideration, every hesitancy, every footfall, every hitched breath… That aching, seething, crestfallen, loving, beautiful trauma.
Even though Theta Sigma is rampaging within, staining everything in crystallin obsidian as the Doctor's consciousness takes shelter in an old wooden barn somewhere in the deepest recesses of her mind.
How many times can grace find you, Doctor? How many times can you steal it from those more worthy? Ticktockgoestheclock... evenforthe--- How many times can forgiveness shield you beneath its wings? You're a fool, Doctor Idiot....
Run. Hide. Leave. Go! COWARD! I'LL TAKE IT FROM HERE-- ticktockticktockTICKTOCKTICKTOCK Put your hands down, Doctor. Hang up your coat. Thirteen's hour is over now. The clock is striking-- ticktockgoestheclock... ticktock... THE CLOCK IS STRIKING---
She hears him.
Gradually, the primal cries of agony transform instead into heaving, audible breaths as the restraints holding her in place are rendered useless. She falls- no. She crashes into him, broken and bleeding and burning alive.
She knows she has no right to find comfort in the rough clasp of fingers tangling into her damp hair or the forehead that's bunting with bruising firmness against her own- but she finds comfort in it anyway.
She has no right to cling to him, gasping and terrified, with dilated eyes that stare at his face, wide and glassy and entirely incapable of sight- but she clings to him anyway. Fingers curl into the fabric of his shirtsleeves, and her respiratory bypass engages briefly. Blood stains the corners of her mouth, the inner flesh of her lips, her tongue.. her breath carries the sickly sweet scent of the crimson, heavy and thick as she speaks.
"Y-You're wrong..."
Her voice is ragged and broken- perhaps from howling like some sort of wild thing, perhaps because of the gentle golden shimmer starting to glisten in the places where the marrow meets the bone.
"I did come back for you... I did... So many times..."
Every word still the truth, even as the golden shimmer leaks into her bloodstream and purifies her body in a trial by fire, incinerating the truth serum, Theta Sigma and the Doctor all cell by agonizing cell. A grunt of discomfort escapes and cuts through her briefly, her unseeing eyes squeezing shut and crinkling along the edges.
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"Like the sun... tryin' to catch a glimpse of the moon as it sets... Always just... a bit too late..."
I love you, I'm sorry.
Yeah. Funny old life.
Funny that he's sought her destruction for centuries, if only to feel closer to her, because all his life, Koschei suspected Theta Sigma was a special comet that happened to graze him with its sparks and he had, otherwise, not one cosmic molecule in his body. Even her ordinariness had the power to transform other beings into something more. She disrupted, she inspired.
Yasmin Khan's face looms, the most recent in a searing line of human replacements.
'She is loved.'
Both the Doctor and Master can love, terribly, leaving marks-stains--on the things they hold so terribly close. Terribly, terribly. But the Doctor loves, somehow, in a way that's returned.
The Master stops walking. The animal shrieking behind him doesn't chill him nearly as much as his own inertia.
"I wish that were true."
I wish that we were the same. I've been trying to shave, cut, excavate you down to my level for so long that I even tried to occupy the same body.
But it will never work.
"You may think it's true, but it isn't."
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Turn around now and it's over, says Saxon, burning and defiant, carving out an autonomy he once thought inviolable by pushing Her away. And then, every Master before him: She'll pull you back in to her gravitational field and you will finally disappear forever. You will die.
"....I know," he whispers back, with tears that match Hers. Frail, and then firm. "I know."
He turns around.
"We're not the same. I'm the part of existence that clears the way. You're what comes next. You're dawn. Future. Something that can...that can be merciless but, but ultimately....! Something that defies its own nature and brings life instead. That is you."
You are not a hero. But you try to be, in a way that has never tempted me to action. And that is what is good.
One step back. He draws the TCE. He's so calm and so quiet, and she's still screaming. Can she hear him?
"You want to know how I know this?"
Two steps, five, twenty. He's in front of her. He fires a laser carefully, breaking her restraints. He catches her body as it falls, tosses the weapon aside and collides with her. Hands in her hair, tangling it. Forehead to forehead. What he has unleashed, still he wants. There's no escape, and he's glad.
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"Because you didn't come back for me, but here I am, for you. Whatever you are, she got me to do this. Whatever you bloody are, Doctor, I can't leave her."
I love you.
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azeroth · 4 months ago
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We must do what it takes to survive We are the same, you and I, I
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wronggalaxy · 1 year ago
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The urge to cut off like 99% of my friends is constantly growing.
1) They keep calling me slurs(I'm literally OK with being called a faggot and tranny by the ones who also fall under those slurs, but somehow not wanting to be called a cripple, by able-bodied people no less, is somehow toxic???)
2) They make fun of me for having to have my phone on 'light mode' even though I've explained a billion times I literally CAN NOT SEE THE TEXT OR PICTURES OTHERWISE
3) They constantly mix up my lazy eye and strabismus and say it makes me look like a token idiot from movies(I wonder fucking why?! Could the answer maybe, possibly, be ableism in the film industry?!)
4) They take my cane without asking which I don't really mind when I'm sitting down but they'll literally take it while I'm standing and leaning against it, knowing I'm a severe fall risk and that falling is extremely dangerous for me, which they also make fun of
5) They treat me like I'm being ridiculous because I'm upset that after 13 years of modern, contemporary, and classical ballet and 2 of tap and hip hop I can no longer dance at all(not even with my arms as they tire easily or my head cause moving it too much triggers tic attacks)
6) They refuse to slow down for me when walking to class, even on staircases, but also get mad when I don't walk with them(not to mention walking alone is dangerous for me for multiple reasons)
7) They treat my absence seizures as if they're not serious because they don't involve shaking on the ground and said it's basically just dissociation(which they also get mad at me for doing)
8) They call me dramatic for having trauma responses to things like cars back firing and plastic water bottles popping even though they know I have untreated PTSD from my house being shot up by my neighbor when I was 11
9) One of them gets angry at me if I'm upset about being called a slur because "they're just telling the truth"
10) I told them that I want to go by Nora-Zachary and They/Them this year instead of my old 'preferred name'(it was never my preferred name I just had to pick the first name that came to my head the first day freshman year so I wouldn't be called my deadname) and He/They, but only one has complied on pronouns and no one has on my name
11) They laugh and call it 'cute' on days where my rhotacism, struggle to verbalize, and/or accent(both regional and autism accent)are more prominent
12) A couple have said I don't have a lisp, which is true, but what they actually meant is that I don't have a speech impediment(literally why do able-bodied people think only lisps and stutters exist, I'm pretty sure rhotacism is one the most common articulation impairments along with lisps and lambdacism, yet not even my parents know what it's called)
And like a billion other things too. Being around them is quite literally making me more suicidal. But IDK. Do I just need to suck it up? Is this as good as it gets? Before literally a year ago I only had 3 friends, and before 2 years ago I had 0, so I don't know what's acceptable.
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kaerinio · 3 months ago
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𝐕. 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐋 ( 𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐈𝐈 ) cw: abuse, pregnancy, child loss, violence
growing up, safety was a scarce thing, always just beyond reach, brushing and then evading her fingertips. since dany was a little girl, running and moving from place-to-place, bookstores and libraries have been a safe haven. these are the places where she could learn when she wasn't enrolled in school; they are where she could seek comfort from store owners and librarians; they are where she could go to hide from viserys: all his harm and fear and schemes. surrounded by books, dany could escape and throw herself into stories so different from her own reality. between the ink, she could breathe and experience lives filled with joy and adventure and love. viserys fantasized about reclaiming the luxurious life and power stolen from them, but daenerys . . . she dreamt of opening a bookstore.
at eighteen, daenerys marries the wealthy drogo as a part of one of viserys' schemes. he's a friend of one of their father's so-called close friends, and with this marriage, viserys sees an opening to go after all who wronged their family. during this time, dany studies, attaining her ged before attending university, where she studies literature, leaning fully into the subject that provided her so much happiness when she was little. she's deeply active in her community, as well, utilizing drogo's connections and money to raise awareness for various causes, gather/distribute resources, and create waves for change. with drogo, dany enjoys her first taste of safety, of security, of stability. she has friends to call her own, dreams to call her own, a life to call her own. at twenty-one, she learns she's pregnant with rhaego, and for the first time, dany feels the hope of family. but, at her baby shower, viserys appears, demanding what he's owed, and he threatens not only dany, but her son. drogo shoots viserys. soon after this event, the beautiful bubble of the life she, while forced, had crafted, begins to burst.
just months later, shortly after her graduation (accelerated because she hyper-loaded her classes), drogo is in a fatal accident, leaving dany a young widow. this event is quickly followed by the loss of rhaego. in what feels like the blink of an eye, dany finds herself alone.
wandering the city after an appointment with an attorney, where she's bequeathed all of drogo's assets, dany stumbles upon a large old house. it's fresh on the market. she presses her face against the windows, taking in the wood interior, and goes around to the back where there seems to be a little courtyard and a terrace. it sparks something in her, but as she begins to walk away, that spark flickers out, turning to ash.
until she hears it: the soft cry, followed by another, then another. on the property, she discovers three abandoned rottweiler puppies, who take to her immediately. cradling them, her fingers clumsily dial the number on the sign in front of the house, and, in a thick voice, she tells the broker she'll take the place.
thus begins her journey: dany sells the home she lived in with drogo and begins the process of renovating the place she impulsively bought, allowing her dream of opening a bookstore to take form. while the building is being renovated, she rents an apartment nearby with her precious puppies.
the silver quill is the name she settles on, paying homage to an older brother she never knew, who loved books, just like her, and was renowned for his music. the bookstore has a very distinct red door, painted by dany herself, and she plants trees in the little outdoor area (specifically lemon trees). there are plants everywhere inside, as well, in this place she has chosen very distinctly to fill with life.
about the silver quill:
the store itself is two stories, and the majority of the store is open. there are also lots of windows, creating a bright, inviting atmosphere. when a patron steps through the front door, they are greeted by two thresholds. to the right is a small café, where one can grab coffee, tea, snacks, and pastries from local vendors. to the left is the entryway to the bookstore, and the counter/register is located parallel to that entryway, against the far wall. within the store, there are various rooms dedicated to different activities, like private study and community organizing. the decor is cozy in a way that inspires one to feel as though they're in a person's home. there are plush couches and armchairs, covered in decorative pillows with various patterns, designs, and motifs. there are tables and chairs that have obviously been sourced through antiquing and careful sifting through estate sales. the floors are hardwood, draped with rugs, creating a patchwork situation in some of the areas. the walls are covered in art. there is a merch section in the store, decked out with trinkets from local artists.
in the back of the store on the first floor, there is a children's area. it is a very diligently curated space, and in the center of it is the reading tree. this installation looks like a lemon tree with a hollowed out center filled with cushions, beanbags, and lamps. a rocking chair sways beside it, where one may read to the children (which dany often does), and little activity tables along the periphery. an imagination rug covers the floor. the area itself is enclosed by bright shelves lined with books, and when you approach it, you're welcomed by a display filled with current favorites.
when you walk in, you can usually find dany sitting at the counter on a stool or propped up on the edge of the counter itself, working on various projects that contribute to the management of the shop. one of her favorite activities is searching for rare books to display in the glass cupboard beside the counter. you can also find her focusing in on some of the work she does for various community organizations/social causes, or whispering with friends. if she's not at the counter, she's probably shelving books, fluffing pillows, walking her dogs, or chatting it up in the café.
the entrance to her house is in a room behind the counter. there's a walk-up to the one story home with a balcony.
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gristlegrinder · 8 months ago
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a fun(?) fact about siya is that their burn scars on their face and forearms are from scarlet! they were living in lion’s arch when she first attacked and were pulled out of the wreckage of their apartment by the lionguard. they’re incredibly lucky to have survived, all things considered, because it was not looking good for them.
they also have scarlet’s rattle from the miasma damage to their respiratory system, which is one of my favorite little details of worldbuilding.
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vizthedatum · 10 months ago
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I don’t know if this is due to autistic burnout and/or abuse, but when I’ve felt loss of control and belonging, I experience vision loss.
This happened a lot when I was being emotionally abused and manipulated, unfortunately.
At least with the physical abuse, I could jolt my other senses to compensate :/
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okruchlodu · 1 year ago
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thinking about blood of elves when Ciri thinks about how sometimes Yen would take Nenneke's wicker chair & sit outside in the garden under the sun and wordlessly gaze into the distance for hours
“Lady Yennefer?” “Yes.” “What are you looking at like that?” “At that tree. That linden tree.” “And what's so interesting about it?” “Nothing. I'm simply feasting my eyes on it. I'm happy that… I can see it.” “I don't understand.” “Good.” Silence. No words. Humid.
it will never not make me scream internally. head in hands screaming crying.
thank you @enidrhena for allowing me to put into words the pure, unbridled ANGUISH and desperation yen must have felt over allowing herself to be BLINDED with magic
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vikasmama · 1 month ago
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✮ thinkin’ of helping pitfighter!vi after a loss.
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cw. — (men + minors dni!) afab!reader, lowkey pwp, public sex, mirror sex, free use? kinda, hair pulling, light degradation, creampie, butchcock ˆᵕˆ use of “pretty thing”, “gorgeous”, & “baby”, vi is going through it but she’s still a lover at heart yk
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“aah! mmgh— fuckfuck! oh my g-god, viii!”
you’re shameless, moaning her name like you’ve known it more than half an hour. given, you’re being stretched out so good you can barely focus your vision and she’s hitting angles you weren’t even aware existed… how could you not?
“you’resso loud,” vi slurs her hushed words due to the fading alcohol in her system. “whole damn club’s gonna hear.”
anything she says is going in one ear and directly out the other. the swell of her dick inside you is immediately addicting. her rough, bandaged hands hold your hips tight, pulling you back to meet hers over and over with no escape. you’re holding onto the sides of this grimy bathroom sink like it's life or death, much more worried about staying standing than your volume. she’s big, and so fucking good, the drag of her heavy girth relentlessly pushing into you threatens to make you drool.
she lets out her own ragged grunts and moans as she commits to having every one of her thrusts knock the wind out of your lungs. she can’t control it. after such a horrible day, and a loss in the pit to top it off, there was you. so beautiful and sweet in the middle of this bustling nightclub, so eager to listen and take her mind off some things. then she gets you here and you’re so soft, pliant, taking everything she gives; she finally sinks herself into you, just the tip. vi’s been at heaven’s gates a couple times, but that feeling might’ve really been it. she couldn't wait more than a few seconds for you to adjust, plunging into you and chasing your warmth. now she can’t stop bullying her cock into you, forgetting the rage she’s been nursing listening to you fall apart for her.
“ffuck— aah ‘m sorry!” your words don’t come easy. you can literally feel her in your throat. “you- nggh, you’re so deep, vi!”
“you don’t even give a fuck, huh? wan’ people to hear? those friends you were with- haah, know you’re this much of a whore?”
a long whine leaves you at the name she uses, your thighs shaking a bit. along with your incessant moans, the obscenely wet sounds of your cunt sing beneath you, filling the dark bathroom. yet your voice, your response is the one thing she doesn’t hear, and she frowns at the realization that she doesn’t like being ignored.
vi snakes a hand up the expanse of your back, fisting it in your hair once she reaches your nape. she cranes the top half of your body up so you’re facing the mirror in front of you, and now you can also watch how deliciously she splits you open from behind. a sob catches in your throat at the image. the dim lighting above shrouds you both, luckily enough to highlight the sweaty, debauched faces you both made. “look at yourself, baby. so fuckin’ sloppy,” vi emphasizes her last word with a sharp thrust. it makes your eyes scrunch close, and without missing a beat her grip in your curls tightens. she pulls you up and back at attention, harshly. “look.”
staring at yourself, growing dumber and dumber by the second — god, it’s hot. some of her fighting makeup is smudged against your cheeks from aggressive kissing earlier. your mouth falls open repeatedly with the sounds she fucks out of you, lurching forward towards your reflection with each movement. you two make eye contact in the mirror, and she smiles deviously, leaning her strong body over you and bringing your faces side by side. she exhales a moan as you clench around her, your walls lovingly hugging each vein and groove of her length.
“such a pretty thing like you gettin’ dicked down by a stranger.” she coos next to your ear, highlighting the depravity of your situation. your pussy talks back for you, squelching from the vigor of vi’s fucking. the slaps of skin against skin start to reverberate louder as your wetness cascades down your thighs, sticking to both of you in a lewd mess. she just won’t let up, fuck, you’re getting close.
her piercing gaze meets your fucked out one and her eyes could roll back because you look good. so fuckin’ sexy taking her dick like this, like you were made just for this, for her. she isn’t even mad anymore. it’s selfish and strange because you’ve just met, but right now vi thinks she could have you bent over every surface she could find for the rest of time.
she leans back and continues using your hair as leverage to fuck into you as deep as she was. she tucks some stray hairs out of your pretty face, helping both of you see better. the hold she has in your hair starts to sting and yet it feels great, the searing pain balancing with the overwhelming pleasure you feel with each kiss to your cervix. her cockhead twitches inside you at the same time you feel that unmistakable pressure in your core. you're so full, almost too full, and you're delirious - would it be so bad to let her cum inside you? you whimper at the thought and she almost laughs, though she’s cut off by her own desperate moans.
"s-shit, baby, oh my..." vi trails off, thrusts losing power as she grows more sensitive approaching her high. "y'feel good, gorgeous? so- fuck, so fucking good, yeah?" trying to nod proved to be useless with her fingers entangled in your hair so tightly, and she wasn't accepting the lack of verbal answer, anyway.
"say yes." her demand is clear though her voice is hoarse with need. vi finds her drive again quickly, picking up her unabating pace. you cry out, gushing out against her as more of your slick is produced from her movements. "mhm, and look at yourself. watch how pretty you are cummin' all over me. gonna look so fuckin’ good-"
"yes! yesyes- mmph, so good. best i've ever had," you're babbling, loud. she's in awe of you, the crease of your brows, your pink, swollen lips catching every desperate plea that tumbles out your mouth, the way your eyes once again catch hers in the mirror as you continue to beg. "hah, i'm gonna cum! gonna cum for you, vi pleease."
"yeah, i know. cum on my dick, baby, c'mon." vi releases your hair to resume her hold on your hips, roughly prodding the flesh as she fucks you through it with the same force she'd consistently kept. your moans compete with the club's speakers, at this point. vi's breath hitches as she feels her own climax build once again, letting such cute whines slip past her lips behind you. fuck, you love it, you can't get enough—
"inside, ngh, please! cum inside, fill me up!" before your brain can properly connect to your mouth, you're begging for her to breed you, stuff you fuller than you already were. and to your delight, with the immediate spike in her speed and the dirty, filthy way she starts to moan alongside you, you were gonna get just that.
"fuck, what a slut. i'mma give it to you, all of it, baby. fuckfuck-"
as soon as you feel your coil burst, cumming over her and squeezing her tighter than she's ever felt, vi's cursing and trying not to double over on top of you as her dick spurts. you can feel that she cums a lot, the warmth coating every single inch of your walls. she feebly thrusts a few more times, just working you both through the aftershocks of cumming so hard before she starts to shiver from the overstimulation. still, she stays plugged inside you which you're thankful for, letting out a content hum to self soothe. vi softens her grip on your hips, kindly massaging the areas while you both take a breather. you roll your shoulders back, wincing a bit at the ache when you rise from your position.
the light above the mirror flickers, and your eyes flit up at it before seeing vi, her gaze softened with a satisfied grin peering back at you. a giggle escapes you, and you give her the same sweet, gentle smile you had before you both ended up here.
"you feel better?"
"so much better. you healed me, baby."
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— ♱*.゚vikasmama.
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sheyfu · 4 months ago
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yappologist degree holder ༊*·˚
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𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗜𝗥 𝗩𝗢𝗜𝗖𝗘𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗦 about you.
feat. dan heng, aventurine, luocha, jing yuan, gepard, jiaoqiu, argenti and moze (gn!reader)
cw. ooc (very); jiaoqiu talks a lot; [slight] sexual innuendos
note. TRYING SOMETHING NEW GRAHHHHHH i dont think i captured their personalities correctly but 🙏🙏 WE BALL LAMSDOASDI i hope you guys enjoy it >:DD reader is identified as [name] and uses they/them prns (GANG I TRIED MY BEST LAMSDOAMSD) if you see me use fem prns in this piece please tell me <3 lmk if you'd like a pt. 2 w other chars (WOMEN ASHDUASHDUH)
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˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ DAN HENG
about [name] [name]? what about them?
chat: significant other  [name] is my significant other. aside from the express, they’re one of the only ones keeping me grounded whenever i become… “emo”. their words, not mine.
chat: sleep sleep is something i found hard to come by; everytime i closed my eyes, visions of my past appeared. but now that [name] is by my side, it has become easier to fall to a peaceful rest.
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˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ AVENTURINE
about [name] through a game of life or death is how [name] and i met. hm? unconventional you say? well, it’s one of the reasons why i fell for them.
chat: bet betting has become an integral part of [name] and i’s life. while it’s not a common way of expressing your love for someone, it’s how we do things. whether those bets entail having to have the other run errands or even give your own life up, it sends spikes of adrenaline up our bones resulting in a very fun game of cat and mouse.
chat: loss there are seldom games i lose — and most of the time, i still somehow come out as, partially, a winner. but for some reason, whenever i offer a game of chance against [name], i seem to lose every game we have. i can’t lie, i get somewhat annoyed at how i can’t seem to win a game against them. but then again, life would be dull if it were just an unending series of wins.
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˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ LUOCHA
about [name] [name] is a travelling merchant i’ve come to know over the past years of my journeys as one myself. if i didn't have anyone to rely on before, i've got my dearest to thank now. 
chat: bargain as a merchant, it is important for me to know how to bargain, especially when deals presented to me are severely unfair for me. i must admit, i wasn’t very good at striking fair deals when i was starting off my path as a travelling merchant. but over the years, [name] has taught me a lot about this art. by observing their ways of negotiating, i am now able to attain very fair and valuable trades. 
chat: aromatherapy with [name]’s upbringing as an herb specialist, i get to experience their family’s aromatherapy service. with every scent i am presented with, i am able to clear my mind and slip in the embrace of solitude and calm. 
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˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ JING YUAN
about [name] [name] is someone who can ease my troubled mind with an embrace; the calm in my storm, the light of my life, and the heart of my soul.
chat: birds when little birds flock to my head, my spouse wonders if im this character called… snow white… *sigh* i am not sure as to who that is due to my upbringing as a military leader — i had no time for these trivial tales. but whenever they tell tales about this... gizney? no.. bizney? not quite right either.. ah yes, disney princess, the intent of me being dressed with robes of royalty are reflected in their eyes.
chat: mimi what was once a kitten, has now grown into a ferocious little lion. i remember when i first got her, [name] was all over the poor thing — smothering it with their love and words of praise — mimi didn’t complain though, she let herself get spoiled. and even up until now, she’s still that same, little spoiled lion she is. 
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˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ GEPARD
about [name] [name] is my significant other �� how i was able to catch their eye? i don’t know. sometimes, i doubt my ability to love, especially with my role as the captain of the silvermane guards. but whenever those thoughts appear in my mind, [name] is there to quell my uneasy mind.
chat: family the way [name] treats lynx makes me feel… funny. i can’t really describe it but my heart beats whenever they entertain my little sister. oh, and don’t even get me started with how serval treats them. *sigh* what should i do to ease this beating heart of mine?
chat: de-stress ways on how to de-stress? well, after a long day i am usually greeted with the embrace of my beloved once i step into our abode… then after that i’m littered with- o-oh.. apologies. i was supposed to give advice. let’s start over again, shall we?
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˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ JIAOQIU
about [name] [name]? you want to now about them? well you see, as general feixiao’s doctor, it is important for me to have assistants whenever patients visit the clinic in a time when i am tending to duties involving her – this is where my dear [name] comes in. they’ve been with me from the start; us being classmates in the medicinal school we attended and all that. they’re easily one of the very dearest people in my life. most people only know them as my assistant due to their preference of upholding a “low-profile”; of course, i am very much alright with it. but when time comes and they’re ready to reveal our bond to the world, i’ll be the happiest man in the whole entire cosmos.
chat: sweets  oh? you liked the sweets i gave you? well, you have my dear [name] to thank. they’re quite the connoisseur when it comes to making them. speaking of sweets, i forgot to mention we have a pastry shop in aurum alley. if you’re able to drop by, i’ll consider giving you a bundle of sweets, and probably other pastries, free of charge.
chat: coriander whatever you do, please do not hand me a bunch of coriander. i will absolutely lose my mind having to deal with a coriander-obsessed lover. 
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˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ ARGENTI
about [name] my love for [name] transcends even the distant stars of the cosmos. my heart, my soul, and my own being belong to them. 
chat: roses roses are my beloved’s favourite flowers, as they are mine. every morning, i wake from my peaceful slumber to see my dear tending to the beds of flowers with a gentle smile on their face that makes me fall in love all over again. *sigh* i miss them so much, trailblazer.. please bring me back to my ship. i would like to sink into my lover’s embrace at this moment. 
chat: baking my beloved takes time to make my preference for thick baguettes each and every morning. while it warms me to receive such a valuable gift, i am not sure if i am deserving of their unconditional love for i am just a mere knight of beauty, idiotically searching for the goddess i’ve devoted myself to.
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˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ MOZE
about [name] i am [name]’s lover. i am bound to them by fate and affection which is why you shouldn’t come close to them — unless you’d like to request an audience with the weapon in my hand.
chat: shadow [name] gets frightened whenever i appear randomly — jiaoqiu tells me it’s a normal reaction as he too, gets startled whenever i show my face to him. although.. im not quite sure how my sudden appearance has them stunned...
chat: cleaning [name] and i share the same hobby of cleaning. whenever i am relieved of my duties assigned by the general, i watch them- no. they tell me of the rather… unconventional ways of cleaning our abode.
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tagging: @ayrastv, @whatisnerotypical, @lia-loves
🐈‍⬛: thank you for reading! reblogs, comments, and likes are very much appreciated!
if you'd like to be part of my taglist, please access the gform below! thank you and hope to see you <3
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© sheyfu on tumblr
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godzexperiment · 2 years ago
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~can no longer be contained babbling~
-nix having major memory issues 'i can recount so much but face of my maker? if even is actual related or no- escapes me'
-he's just some guy! *not really, he's pretty powerful and an escaped test subject but he doesn't know all his limits in the slightest* he doesn't know how to pay for things, he can however fix an ship engine that seems not even worth scrapping
-just 'who are you allied with' in any form and nix like ...... 'i just escaped from the lab sooo huh? but myself clearly'
-which... him just either lying/not providing why he is how he is or disaster ass like 'freedom sure is nice but oh wow i actually kind of miss the whole lab and it's unstable but stable environment'
-could fly ships, should not fly ships *being passenger to it is not recommended*
-not him building his own unique ship though?/finding an nice little place to settle that is pretty isolated but livable *an concept but him forming bonds with others is obviously way more neat, not being alone as a result*
just !!!!!!
-somebody crash landing on the small little planet that he's been on, with the lab and him whose been just exploring around like *wary* but going 'look if i fix it can i tag along'
-or crossing paths of him in some mischief wherever he's managed to crash land and any chaos ensuing
-the whole +1 unhinged, troubled idiot to your life who will repay kindness with very likely saving your life any trouble might occur aside
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soapcloth · 25 days ago
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Statue!Ghost x reader - pt 2
CW: 18+ MDNI, noncon/dubcon elements, size kink, horror aspects, scopophobia, temporary loss of movement, derealization(?), large insertion, reader gets fingered by a statue pt 1 - not edited - dividers -> @/cafekitsune
It’s been getting worse. 
Ever since you became fearful of a giant marble statue prowling around your place of work, the duration of your shifts would stretch out- mangled and twisted by his presence. No one would pass through the warehouse, causing the towering labyrinth of stock to feel more like an ancient crypt than a museum's storage. 
In light of the phrase 'Out of sight, out of mind.' you had employed the company of a radio that hadn't seen daylight since the nineties to chase away the dread laving across your spine. It helped at first, finally letting you plug away at work, but it was shortlived- only lasting a moment before all sounds started to slowly wither away, leaving only you, your thoughts, and the distant scraping echo.
You couldn't decide which you disliked more; when you’d look away only to find him contorted into a new position, or when you actually saw it happen. Things that big, things with no fibrous muscle or supporting bone to speak of should not be able to move.
The hulking figure was fond of defying nature. 
He had begun to do something much worse than the previous two options, though. The first time you experienced it, there was a quiet rolling noise, distant and unfamiliar. Your base instincts screamed at you not to look, and yet.
He was in a new pose this time, playfully holding his skull-shaped death mask against his face. That itself would not have been too bad if not for the two gaping black pits where his unblinking gaze had resided Two eyes, wet as your own and boasting irritated veins peered at you from the hollow holes through blown, pitch black irises. Following you. 
Slowly, accompanied by the low hum of moving stone, the mask lowered to reveal his usual carved visage. Nothing was stated out loud but you could tell that against your will, something had shifted. 
He approached, agonizingly slowly, but directly and with thundering footfall. He knelt down before you, head swiveling as he got closer inorganically. You could hear laboured breath whistling through the notch in his still lips, examining it at this angle revealed a small hole that hadn't been there before. This alerted you to a fact that gave you pause- below thick stone skin there was a cavity with room to accommodate something you couldn’t possibly begin to fathom rattling around inside him. The thought sat at your eyes, too difficult to be transmitted through their receptors into your brain beyond a surface level acknowledgment. 
Up close, you could see that his motions were not as smooth as you had initially assumed; every inch moved labourous, awkward, and accompanied by the incremental jerk. 
He would get closer until his lips, though much larger, were level with your own. 
The contact came contradictorily, both expected- welcomed, and unheralded, an ice water shock to your system.
Something in your mind that had rationalized him as a thing had told you he was of flesh like you, but the kiss was chilled and unmoving. Stone fingers digging into the cement floor told you he was expecting reciprocity, leaving you with no other options but to accomodate embarassingly and press warm lips to stone. 
His marble head nudged to the side softly, leading you like a lamb to the notch. Your lips slowed as you were hit with the nausea that accompanied peering into a hollow otherside, too dark to see anything in there- and there was something in there.
All at once, you were accosted by visions of a man, a victor- every glimpse lasting only microseconds and each one incredibly overwhelming. 
Dizzy. 
You fell back with a crawling sense of paralysis taking over your body, and with a freezing touch, more gentle and reverent than you could have ever expected- he cradled you, dragging his big body back to his ornate podium to pet and nudge at you, head uncannily tilting with curiousity for each sound he managed to pull from you. 
Pulseless fingers prodded at you as you looked up at him and for a passing moment, he was man, both of the earth and grounded as a large finger slipped under your shirt, soft grit tracing at your belly. For a passing moment, expressionless monochromatic eyes were those of man too, incredibly melancholic and lonely before the emotion vanished, gone all to soon. 
Your monolith breathed as his finger curled downwards, dipping into your undergarments, playing with the hidden flesh, absorbing your warmth for himself. 
His touch heated, and you could hear distant cheers of a battle hard won and a band- no, a single instrument, perhaps a lyre? It sounded far off and intimate, but it was there; it's dulcet tones swimming around your head.
A big, warm hand fussed with your pussy, pumping in and out with an unspoken worship.
Too focused on the feeling, you could only barely make out his deep voice murmuring as he talked you through his touches, the blurred looming silhouette of your giant somehow bigger made mortal than he ever seemed in his effigy. 
With heavy lids you blinked, and then through your bleary gaze you caught sight of those crystal clear bloodshot eyes set over a black void on his undefined face. You gasped, pulling away as he examined you, invasive and unwelcome gaze the only thing you could make out of his vague form. Like you had been scorched by fire, suddenly all you could feel was the hot freeze of a stone finger dug inside your folds, pumping you full. he continued to nudge around inside you experimentally, stretching you out far beyond anything you were accustomed to. he kept the same deep and agonizingly deliberate pace as you writhed beneath his bulk, squinting as humid, laboured Shallow breath fanned your face, painting you in a wet sheen. You clenched around the solid intrusion; crying out as you came on the numbingly cold marble that met your skin.
You panted, sprawled across stone with swelling lungs as you gazed upwards at the silent image of a man. Coming to, you blinked as sunlight bled in through the raised skylights, soaking the back of his head in a white glow. He stared back through unmoving spheres as you gave a shaky, torturous heave, pulling yourself off him. Ache scorched your inner muscles as you staggered through the warehouse and to the stairwell doors. As with all things relating to him, the sting only got worse the more you acknowledged it. Pushing the pain to the back of your mind, you stumbled towards your waypoint, everything around you becoming more tangible as ambient sounds flooded and warmed your ears. You didn’t look back at the carved idol, but that was fine- watchful eyes would find you through troubled dreams.
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astarionancuntnin · 4 months ago
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Remember Me
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summary: you cant make sense of where you are or even how you ended up in this cell, hells, you're not even sure of who you are at this point; any memories of your past are a blur. its all the more confusing when a group of adventurers come rescue you, and a particularly worried pale elf takes it upon himself to help you remember who you are.
rating: E
word count: 7k
pairing: astarion x you (fem!reader, reader is tav)
cw: 18+. angst, act 3 spoilers related to astarion's side quest, mentions of kidnaping and torture, memory loss, blood feeding, vampire bites, smut, oral (f!receiving), p in v, The Leg Thing followed by mating press, sweet love making, love confession. full list on ao3
a/n: loosely based on this audio (18+) from OGY.
read on ao3
my masterlist
or keep reading down below~
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Pain.
It’s the first thing that hit you when your consciousness came back to you.
How much everything fucking hurt.
Your entire body felt as if it had gone through the nine Hells, all at once; you could barely find the strength in yourself to get to your feet, let alone push yourself off the ground.
Then it was the disarray when you couldn’t place what had happened for you to feel so awful.
It was as if you had woken up from a long sleep; distant voices in your head, blurry faces merging together when you closed your eyes, and an awful feeling of emptiness, as if you had forgotten something extremely important but you couldn’t put your finger on it, no matter how much you thought about it.
Nothing but endless darkness.
As much as you tried to remember your life, anything before this moment, you were met with a dark fog clouding your vision. Your family, your friends — if you even had any — had all vanished from your memory. You think you remember yourself, for the most part, but even that was a stretch; you couldn’t even remember your own bloody name.
You look around you, realising for the first time that you were in a prison cell. The course of events after waking up in this dark cell hadn’t helped; the sudden cold inhabiting you, followed by this man — this monster — barging in without as much as a warning before pushing you face first against the ground and ripping open your shirt, to then torture you as he carved your back with his knife, only to leave as suddenly as he had appeared. Barely a few words exchanged, aside from some mumbling about teaching “him” a lesson, whoever that was, and you were alone once again.
Alone, with nothing but this seething pain in your back from the butchery you had gone through, the hunger digging into your belly, and your blood leaking from your shivering form, pooling around you on the cold, hard floor.
You barely had the time to gather your thoughts when the same man came back barely minutes later to carry you out of your cell and into a larger room — keeping you restrained with some magic that visibly came from his staff — where more people waited.
By the looks of it, you had been right on one thing: this was indeed a dungeon, and you were located in the deepest part of them; this room contained only a round, rock platform, located above an endless, foggy pit.
In the state you were in, you couldn’t catch everything he said as he went on a monologue. Something about powers, freedom; whatever it was, they needed you to achieve it, that was the only thing that was clear from his speech. You couldn’t understand how any of them would follow a maniac like him, but in their eyes you noticed how they listened to his words with as much fear as awe.
Your form was shivering from the cold; you wanted to cover up your top which had been previously ripped off from your body, but it was all in vain: the restraints of his magic kept you in place, and right after his speech, you were sent flying over a designated spot floating above the ground, just like all the six other people that had surrounded you previously.
Your arms remained bound to your sides by whatever spell this monster had cast on you, leaving your chest exposed to the damp, cool air of this dungeon, and your fresh wound stinging evermore at your back.
You remember the panic tightening in your chest when you realised you couldn't escape. You remember the brief relief, hope even, at the sight of a group of adventurers approaching — one of the figures shouting at the man in the middle of the room — followed by explosions and screams. Then the fear settled in when you saw them execute one of the other unfortunate souls magically held floating around this room, one new truth forming in your mind.
They weren’t here to save you.
You would be next. They would kill you. You would die here.
The pressure in your chest grew tighter as you closed your eyes and mourned your life, one you didn’t even remember experiencing, one that — you hope — had been full of adventures, of acquaintances… of love.
This last one must’ve been true. You remember being loved — more so how it felt, even if the feeling seemed so far and long ago. You remember the butterflies in your belly, the fluster in your heart, the heat between your legs; you remember just enough to know that if you died today, at least, you would’ve died as someone who had been loved.
You didn’t expect your feet to touch the cold hard ground once more. You remember falling to your knees, your body exhausted by the abuse it had gone through in just the last few hours. You remember your dry throat when you noticed the butchered corpse in the middle of the room, barely recognizable anymore.
“Gods… what has he done to you?”
But you couldn’t seem to place the face of your saviour. The bloodied, silver curled elf who had rushed to kneel next to you after defeating your captor, who approached you and held your face so carefully.
How those crimson eyes of his had widened in horror when you flinched at his touch and backed away.
Him and his group had killed one of you who stood in this circle, who’s to say he wasn’t here to finish the job? Lure you in with a sweet touch only to snap your head off; you knew better than to let yourself fall for the first man to approach you.
“Darling, it’s over now.” He had said with his voice low, getting back on his feet to approach you as if you were an injured beast, “Just take my hand, we’re getting out of here.”
You didn’t know whether to feel insulted or reassured by his assertiveness, but you remained frozen in place, your eyes switching from the hand extended out to you and his severe look that you reciprocated with a frown to hide your terror.
“Look,” he sneered, “you can either take my hand, come with me out of this hellhole, or rot away in this godsforsaken—”
From behind him, someone from his group called out a name which stopped him mid-sentence just as his tone was rising.
“Astarion.”
A name that felt oddly familiar, despite the void in your memories. It danced beautifully as it echoed across the room and around your mind; there was something about it that just sounded right.
Astarion. A name worthy of being written in the stars, you find yourself thinking, the sound of it bringing you a familiar sense of peace, of security.
Astarion. Maybe if you repeated it enough in your head, something clearer would come up. Maybe, just maybe, then you would remember.
He took a deep breath and continued, which brought you back from your reverie, “I’m quite certain you went through the Hells and back, but for now, I’ll have to ask you to trust me, just as you’ve done in the past. Can you do that for me?”
He extended out his hand once more, this time a request rather than a command, his voice carrying out his concerns, “Can you trust me?”
“Why would I trust someone I’ve just met?” You wanted to ask, but something about the way he asked struck a chord, as if you did know him. As if you knew he spoke true when he said you used to trust him, and you finally accepted the hand he held out to you.
A hand that pulled you to your feet, and guided you out of this dreadful place.
You were given a cloak to cover your shivering form, and you walked along with them back to their camp. Back to this intriguing, yet charming man’s tent, where they all agreed you should rest for the night.
The first thing that hit you when you stepped in was the smell.
You didn’t know what it was exactly, you couldn’t recognize it, but it was intoxicating; it only made your stomach churn more. As the adrenaline of the previous hour settled down, you fell to your knees, grabbing onto your waist as the pain that had been muted came back screaming through your guts.
“Shit—” He rushed down to check on you, with one hand down your back, holding onto you, “Darling, talk to me, what’s wrong?”
“What isn’t wrong?! I was tortured, starved off, almost sacrificed for all I know, and I can’t even remember who I fucking am!” Is what you wanted to say, but all you could manage out is a groan in the middle of your sobs.
When you lifted your head, your eyes fell onto the set of messily arranged bottles from where the strong smell came from, and a quick exchange of glances told him everything he needed to know.
“Of course, you’re hungry,” He sighed heavily, "Look, I’ll gladly offer you some from my own reserves — after I’ve taken a look at your wounds.”
You had almost forgotten about them.
You averted your eyes from his gaze, your mind now racing as you expected the worst. You had no way to see what had been done to your back, but the pain you had gone through was a good indicator of how bad it would look.
Met with your silence, he continued, “I need… to see what he’s done to you. Please.”
Your eyes went back and forth between him and the dark bottles briefly considering pouncing on them to get a taste as your mouth watered in anticipation, but you reluctantly turned your back to him as you sat with your legs pressed back into your stomach, barely helping mitigate the pain in your stomach.
As you let the cloak fall from your shoulders, you heard nothing but a shaky, deflated sigh behind you. Seconds of silence passed before you considered turning around, but a part of you was terrified of the look you would find on his face.
You finally found the strength to utter your first words.
“Is it… that bad?” Your voice was rough from neglect, as the last time you had used it had been to scream when you received this torture.
You heard him take a deep breath, shaking away the shock that had previously rendered him speechless, “You must’ve already known what he carved away in your back. Hells, I knew before even looking, but seeing it…” he pauses, his tone quieting, “seeing it is another story completely.”
“I… I don’t know,” you muster with a weak voice. It's true, you had no idea, he had carved your damn back, you had no way to see the extent of his torture.
He took a deep breath, shaking away the feelings that had sneaked their way into his voice, “It’s no matter, it’s over now; Cazador is dead. He won’t hurt—” he paused, as if processing the information himself, “Anyone, ever again.”
You turned around to face him this time, “Who’s Cazador?”
He huffed, “I’m glad it was that easy for you to forget about him, but when you’ve suffered under his hand for nearly two centuries, the memories tend to linger.”
You remained silent as you stared at him, just as shocked as you were confused by his words. When he noticed your stare, his face twisted in concern, “Oh shit, you’re serious.”
You nodded silently.
He continued, tentatively, “He was my master, he’s the one we killed back in the dungeons — the one who abducted you, who did this to you. Do you not remember any of this?”
You shook your head slightly, never leaving his gaze.
“Oh dear.” His voice dropped as his eyebrows raised and his eyes widened all at once, “Do you remember anything at all — the absolute, our adventure… Do you remember… me?”
His eyes went back and forth between yours, as if he was searching them for any sign of recognition, looking for you, whoever you were behind those confused, teary eyes. You gave him another shy shake of your head, followed by a single tear coming down your cheek, a tear you weren’t sure why it was shed; whether it was from the loss of yourself, or the mourning of something you didn’t even remember having.
“Gods…” He breathed out heavily as his sight left you, his mind visibly ruminating. “He can’t… He couldn’t have… He…”
His tone suddenly changed as he growled, “That monster.”
He closed his eyes and shook his head before looking back at you, “You were with us just yesterday. You were — are this group’s leader. If… If you have no memories of your mortal life then it means…” he looked away, frowning, “He rushed your transformation to replace me in the ritual.”
None of the words he had said made any sense to you, “Transformation?”
He turned back to you to be met with your visible confusion, and he explained further, “Normally, when you’re turned, you need to be drained of your blood and buried six feet underground, before you can crawl out of your tomb to be reborn. This process takes a day, usually, and when you awaken, you are still you, but immortal and bound to your master,” he spat out the last word like it left a bitter aftertaste on his tongue.
“Now you,” he continues, “you were turned within twelve hours, which would explain why your eyes are only half red, why your fangs haven’t come out yet, and…” his voice quieted down, “why you have no memories of your past. As if the rushed transformation had actually killed this part of you along with your humanity.”
You remained focused on the first thing he had said: your eyes had changed colour?
You hadn’t had the chance to look at yourself since your awakening and if not remembering your name wasn’t anxiety inducing enough, you realised you couldn’t even recall what you looked like.
All of a sudden, panic rushed its way into your heart; you needed to see yourself. You frantically looked around the tent to find anything that could send back your reflection and practically jumped on the pocket mirror when you spotted it nearby Astarion.
Only the mirror was broken. It must’ve been; it reflected nothing.
“If that wasn’t obvious by now, this should’ve clarified things a bit,” he said.
He lowered the mirror you still held in front of you, expecting your image to be reflected eventually, maybe at a different angle, maybe with more light. Maybe another one would, maybe you were just delirious from everything that had happened only today.
“You’re a vampire now. No matter the angle, you’ll never see your reflection come out of this mirror. Believe me, I’ve tried.”
Vampire.
The word didn’t make sense; nothing made sense.
Yet, when you parted your lips to let your tongue run against your teeth; you found your canines the same size they were, that they should’ve been, but they were much sharper than what would be considered normal and you almost pierced your tongue from the gesture.
“Maybe…” he carried on, lost in thought, “there’s even a chance that the tadpole has been messing around with more of the changes your body is going through.”
“Tadpole?” You interjected, your head shaking of its own in disbelief. “What?”
He huffed in astonishment, “So you really do remember nothing.”
You sighed, “I— I don’t… As much as I try, I’m met with a void of memories. The only thing remotely familiar since I woke up has been… you.” His eyes had gone soft and bright with hope, but also melancholy. “I don’t know who you were to me, and I don’t know why, but some part of me knew I could trust you.”
He chuckled, a sad smile finding its way over his lips, “Even with your memories gone, it seems I can’t leave your mind, can I?”
You gave him a smile of your own, “Would you mind… reminding me of my life? Of us?”
“Gods, where to start, darling. Would you believe me if I told you our story began with me holding a knife to your throat?”
You found yourself smiling unconsciously, “With everything that's happened to me in the last few hours, I find that easy to believe.”
“And strangely enough it's probably the least odd part of our story.” He tilted his head, giving you a genuine smile before carrying on.
“It’s all tedious, really, but… There’s one memory I want to tell you about: The night of the tiefling party. Ugh, it was dreadful for the most part; the wine tasted like vinegar, the music was too loud, and there were too many of those bloody tieflings at our camp, to be quite sincere— “
“Not a people’s person I take it?”
“My dear, after years of being forced on and by people, the last thing you want is to be surrounded by more of them.” The sight of you parting your lips and raising your eyebrows told him you had also forgotten about this and he quickly caught onto it, changing the direction of the discussion back to the topic at hand. “But, there was one good thing that came out from this night: when we met in the woods. I had high hopes of you joining me there — although no doubts, of course — I was the most suitable option among our group after all.”
“Most suitable? Someone else wanted to spend the night with… me?”
“Darling, the whole world and their mother wanted a special moment with you. But only one of us got that honour. A chance to steal away with everyone’s new favourite leader.”
The faint sounds of the party fading: music echoing through the forest, people laughing, the cool air of a summer’s night breezing through, and good company throughout the night.
“I have been waiting for you. Waiting since the moment I first saw you. Waiting… to have you.”
You blinked, “You… were waiting for me in the woods, I’m— I’m remembering.”
“I did put a lot of effort into my entrance, I would be upset if you didn't remember it quite honestly.” You laughed softly. “Do you remember what happened afterwards?”
Your eyes roamed as you pushed the memory further, before you lifted your head to meet his gaze, “You… kissed me.”
“After you had the audacity to say I didn't have you yet while you had come to me of your own volition, yes, and then?”
You chuckled, but your smile quickly faded as your memory unlocked the next part of this puzzle. He looked at you with a knowing glint in his eyes; he was simply waiting for you to say it yourself.
“We made love.”
He sighed dramatically, “Love is such a big word for what happened back then, but…” his tongue clicked, accentuating the end of the word, “That was certainly the start of it. The start of a series of feelings that came and complicated everything. It’s what pushed me, soon after, to confess to you that it was all part of a silly plan I had to keep you in my favour. I was terrified, honestly, especially considering it was all because I initially manipulated you to fall for me…”
He paused, searching your expression before carrying on, and continued when he found nothing but soft eyes looking back. “But then — despite everything — there you were, holding me tight.”
He let go of a deep breath.
“For so long I had nothing — no one. And all of a sudden, there’s you, who held onto me, who cared so much more than anyone ever did. And I found myself not wanting to let go. I couldn't.”
He frowned, turning his gaze away, “And Cazador used that against me. As soon as he had word of my whereabouts in Baldur’s Gate and the crowd I was hanging out with, he jumped at the first chance to torture me once more. He probably thought I was unaffected by any physical pain he could impose on me by now, so he did the next worst thing: take it out on the one person I cared about in this wretched world.” He shook his head, “If we hadn’t gotten there in time—”
“But you did.” You interrupt. “You saved me and yourself in the process. This ritual wouldn’t have given you the freedom you think it carried.”
His eyes lit up, “You talk as if you knew what it entailed.”
You nodded, “It’s coming back to me, bit by bit. I remember what you told me about him. I remember the purpose of the ritual, and your plan to replace him and take his power instead.”
He sighed, “Gale thought brilliant to kill one of my brothers to stop Cazador from carrying on with the ritual. Bloody wizard didn’t realise it meant I couldn’t continue it myself then.
“Maybe he did.” His gaze flickered back to you in confusion before you continued, “You don’t need satanic powers to carry on, Astarion. You’re free now.”
He huffed, “And all it cost was my life in the sun.”
“Well,” you tilted your head, “It did cost me mine too. Once the tadpoles are gone, we’ll both be banished to the shadows once again. But we’ll be together, and that’s something at least.”
He rolled his eyes before landing them on you, “At least the transformation didn’t take away from your heartbleeding optimism, dear.”
You chuckled, “Thank the Gods for that— ugh!”
You clutched at your stomach, your body tilting forward in pain, and Astarion instantly knew the cause of your suffering; it’s something he recognized all too well.
“Hells, you must be starving. Gods know Cazador wouldn’t waste a single drop on a lowly spawn — no offence, dear.”
“None taken,” you forced a humourless laugh. “I shouldn’t have expected much considering I was to be cattle for a satanic ritual.”
He turned around and you kept a close eye on him as he handled the bottles beside him, pulling out a silver cup out of his bag of holding to pour you a portion.
“Here,” he sat back down, parting his legs open, extending one arm to you, “Come on love, sit back against me, would you?”
You stared unsure for a few seconds but obliged him. You scooted back until your back was fully resting against his chest, leaving no space lost between the two of you.
When he brought the cup forward you reached for it but he pulled back, clicking his tongue, “Oh no, my sweet, I will be the one to feed you tonight. This is your first time, we wouldn't want your primal instincts to take over now, would we?”
You turned around to stare at him for some time with incertitude and he simply tilted his head, with a sly smile, “Humour me, darling. You’ll be glad you did, hm?”
You pressed your lips together almost pouting, but acquiesced as you nestled yourself between his legs, your tense body laying against his chest once again.
He brought the cup to your mouth at long last, while his other hand held onto your chin. You gasped at his touch — while not unwelcome, it was a surprise — and you parted your lips to welcome your drink.
His hands were rough against your skin, yet there was a softness to it that made you melt under his touch. Made you want to push further into his hand to know how it would feel around your throat. It was almost enough to make you forget about the drink against your lips. Almost.
While the mere closeness of it had been invigorating, drinking it was ecstatic. It felt like your first meal in weeks, and it might as well have been with the pit that had replaced your stomach.
You took big gulps of the delectable nectar, barely pausing for air as you rushed to empty the cup’s content, eager to have your fill with this delicious substance.
“Slowly now darling,” he pulled the cup away from your lips and you gasped at the loss of your feeding source, “This is your first time feeding; I wouldn’t rush things.”
You frowned, but complied; even if you were starving, he had over two hundred years of experience with this form — you barely had a few hours. Your mind wasn’t all there yet either, and it's true that you couldn’t trust those new primal instincts to be civil enough to drink responsibly.
You held onto the one truth you knew, one that was clear ever since the start: you trust him.
You eased back into him, letting him hold you and guide you throughout your meal. The cup rested at a slightly down angle against your lips to allow you good mouthfuls of blood without overfeeding you all at once.
“There, good girl,” he purred. “You are doing so well for me, love. Small sips now, let your body recuperate from the shock.”
There was something about his voice that soothed you, brought you a peace of mind, a calm after this storm that had been your last few hours.
A shiver down your spine, that travelled all the way down between your legs.
You finished the content of the cup at a slower pace than you had started, soothed by his soft approach and the new blood filling your stomach, and he took this chance to explain more about your condition while pouring you another serving.
“Considering this is your first feeding, you’ll need a bit more to carry on until your next meal. Mind you, it’s normal if you don’t feel full; this is a curse, after all. The real challenge is to learn to live with your hunger.” He cleared his throat as he brought the cup back up to your lips, full again, “Alright now, open up, love.”
You hungrily parted your bloodied lips to welcome another serving.
“There, there, just like that.” A soft whimper left your throat between sips, and he caressed your cheek with his thumb, “Shhh, you're okay, you're doing just fine.” He leaned next to your head to whisper, “You’re perfect, my sweet.”
For a moment, you could swear you felt your heart beat anew.
You drank with his help until you finished one full bottle from his reserve, and with the pain in your stomach settling down, you allowed your body to relax against him. That’s when you felt something poking against your back, something you wanted to taste as much as the blood that had blessed your tongue just moments ago.
And he must’ve known, too.
“So, as you must’ve realised, your hunger was a side effect of the transformation. But what you’re feeling now, which I can very much smell on you, is a result of your feeding.”
If any of the blood you had ingested had made it in your veins by now, they must’ve all rushed to your cheeks at this very moment.
“Blood,” he continued, “Brings us back alive temporarily; it warms us, allows our hearts a few shy beating of their own, but it also reawakens other mortal pleasures. The first time it can be… a tad overwhelming.”
“It’s…” You hadn’t realised how quiet your heart had been until it started beating away once more in your chest; your cheeks felt warm, your breathing had accelerated, and your core was aching. You breathed out your reply, “It really is.”
As you turned your head aside, resting against his shoulder, and your eyes lingered over his lips, another primal urge awoke in you to devour him, in every way possible. You needed to taste him, his mouth, his blood, his come—
Until you were blessed with another sudden memory, and you turned away from his lips, gazing anywhere that wasn’t on him to stop yourself from acting irrationally.
“Wait, no, I’m sorry—”
He grabbed your chin and turned you back to him in one fluid movement. “You have nothing to be sorry for, darling, and I would be more than happy to entertain these carnal thoughts I saw in those eyes of yours. Unless you’d rather spend the night with someone else?” he teased.
You held your breath as he brought you closer to him, his hand lingering over your cheek. If you just closed the distance now, you could—
“No, Astarion, I won't force—”
“Stop that right now.” He cut you off without skipping a beat, stunning you once more. “You are not forcing yourself onto me or forcing me. This, right now, right here, is my decision.”
His other hand came up to cup your face, drawing you closer to him, your lips but a whisper apart.
“I want this,” he murmured against your lips, his voice lustful and heavy with need. “I want… you.”
Your eyes locked and the second after, his lips were pressed against yours and you let yourself get lost into this kiss. How his hands held on to your face, how his tongue tasted the blood on your lips, how he whimpered into your mouth at the contact of your own tongue; this memory of love you had remembered earlier, it had been a memory of this.
His kiss, his touch, his voice, him.
Your kiss was engulfing, springing your heart back to life in a sudden rush as you met every of his kisses with the same passion, and soon enough, you were laying back against his bedroll, with him over you and stealing your breath away; one — you didn’t realise yet — you didn't need anymore.
His hands rested next to your head and you allowed yourself to reach up to hold his face, trace the lines of his age over his cheeks and down his neck, and trailing along the opening of his shirt before he broke apart from your lips.
“I’ve been thinking about this for many nights now.”
“What would I be like as a vampire?” You asked semi-jokingly.
“No, silly — Although, the question did flit into my mind once or twice, but no. I was thinking of how I would have you, the next time I would bed you. I’ve touched myself at the thought of having you again, the sounds you would make, how your cunt would feel wrapped around my cock instead of my hand—”
He took your hand from where it was resting and guided it down between his legs, and a short gasp escaped you when you felt how hard he was.
“ —but tonight, after spending a lifetime looking for it, I finally know what I want.” His half-lidded eyes seemed darker than they had been, and you lost yourself in them, "And Gods help me if I can't have you—”
“I’m yours,” you answered back in a heartbeat, your voice but a whisper, “I’ve always been, and I’ll always be, for as long as you’ll have me.”
Your words broke the remaining chains of control Astarion had over himself, as he pulled your pants off from you and removed his own shirt while your hands fumbled with his trousers. A moment later, you both laid against one another, as bare as you were on your first days on this plane of existence, your lips back on each other.
“Mmh, I wonder…” Astarion let his kisses trail down from your mouth to your jaw, then your neck.
“Hm?”
“Now that you’re a vampire,” he left small kisses alongside your neck and down your shoulder, “your blood will taste different.”
“You’ll still drink from me?”
“Well of course, dear,” he lingered in the crook of your neck, before licking his way up to your ear where he whispered, “And I can’t wait to know how you taste after you’ve tasted me.”
You shivered against his breath, fully expecting him to bite you following those words, and when he didn’t you were almost disappointed. He, on the other hand, seemed extremely satisfied with himself.
“Eager already? And here I thought I was the most depraved between the two of us.” You sighed heavily as he came back up to face you, “Maybe I will be tasting you tonight, after all. Is this something that you want?”
You smiled softly, your hand finding his cheek again, “Yes.”
When your lips met this time, it was soft, pure, communicating words you hadn’t exchanged yet despite your longing for one another. It only made you want him more.
“Speaking of tasting you,” he said against your lips, “I wonder if something else has changed.”
You barely had time to process what he had said when he made his way down your chest, briefly sucking on one of your nipples.
“Mh,” he released it with a pop, “this one still tastes the same.”
He moved to your other breast to give it the same attention, teasing it with his teeth and earning him a moan from you before releasing it, “This one as well.”
He left a path of kisses as he trailed down your navel, until he was resting between your legs with a hungry look in his eyes, “Now, for the main course—”
You weren’t prepared for his fangs to dig in the inside of your thighs, making you scream in surprise as your hands grabbed onto the sheet of his bedroll. The pain quickly turned into pleasure as he nibbled and kissed the softness of your thigh, before making his way to your wet slit, which begged for attention.
The smell of you invaded his senses and you could feel his breath over your core as he breathed you in, his arms now wrapped under your thighs as he laid on his stomach and between your legs, “Darling, you smell divine.”
A soft whimper escaped your lips as his tongue pressed against your entrance and he slowly licked all the way up to your clit, “And you taste— Gods, you taste even better than before.” He smiled up to you, his mouth covered by a cocktail of your blood and juices. “I didn’t think it could be possible.”
You were past words by now, but even if you had come up with something, you don’t think you would’ve been able to utter anything with the way his tongue worked between your legs, devouring you of your essence.
“I would forsake blood for the rest of my days if it meant I could nourish myself only of your essence, my love,” he said between licks of you. “The Gods truly made you to ruin me; I could never move on from your taste, even if I wanted to.”
His hands surrounding your thighs and his nails digging in your flesh kept you in place as he continued to worship you, and no matter how much you wiggled, his hold on you held on, as if you were the first meal he was having in days and he wouldn’t let you go until he was sated.
Astarion recognized the signs of your unbecoming as your breathing started shaking and your legs tensed around his head, pushing him to tease you further.
“Are you gonna come for me now?” He smiled between your legs, “Come on, love. Come for me. Come on my tongue.”
The vibration of his humming as he continued to savour you only added to the feeling of his tongue, lapping at your entrance and sucking over your sensitive bud, and his nails digging deeper into your thighs added a delicious hint of pain. After weeks without any sex, you were sensitive to the slightest touch, and now there he was: tasting you, devouring you, wanting you; it was all too much.
“Ah… Astarion!”
Your head fell back against the rough floor of his tent as your back arched and stars clouded your vision. You knew how ironic it was to think so, but you had never felt more alive than you did at this very moment, with your devoted lover worshipping you like the goddess who had finally answered his prayers from all those years ago.
Your legs collapsed as he let go of them to move back up to face you, and he took this chance to hook your leg with his, pushing it upwards to create the perfect angle for him to place himself against your entrance.
Your half-lidded eyes met his, delirious with lust, and you wanted to express the feeling that had been weighing on you for too long now, but when his lips collided with yours and you tasted yourself, all those words got lost on his tongue exploring your mouth.
“I’ve waited so long to finally have you,” he said breathlessly against your lips. “I kept pushing back, thinking it was never the right time.”
He licked his lips, wiping off the string of saliva that connected your mouths. “When you disappeared… I thought I had lost my only chance. I’m done waiting around.”
He slowly pushed himself into you with a low groan as he felt your slickness wrap around him, and you threw your arms around his neck as you moaned into his ear.
“Fuck, you’re so wet. So tight and warm, all for me. I would stay here inside of you for a decade if I could. You feel exquisite, my love.”
He retracted himself slowly, and plunged back in with the same agonising pace, taking in the feeling of your inside. “I’ll enjoy taking my time with you; discovering what makes you tick, tease every one of your sensitive spots. But tonight — I just want this: feeling you wrapped around me and to know that I’m the reason for your unbecoming.”
His pace accelerated, each thrust of his hips brushing against your clit as your bodies almost fused as one, pushing you closer to another edge already.
A particularly well placed thrust had you dig your nails into his back and he hissed into your ear, “Darling,” he panted, “Remind me to trim your nails when we’re done.”
You quickly realised what he meant when a poignant smell, stronger than the bergamot, brandy, and rosemary you smelled on him previously, invaded your nostrils and your mouth watered in response. What you didn’t realise was how you ended up breathing down his neck, just against the popping vein conveniently displayed for you to bite down on. Just one bite away from ecstasy.
“Still hungry, little love?”
You were snapped out from your daze by his voice purring into your ear, pulling away from his neck and blinking as you gained back control of your thoughts.
“I’m— It’s just— Your blood smells really, really good.”
He chuckled, “I tend to have that effect on people. Would you like a taste?”
You forced yourself to look into his eyes, “I… Are you sure?”
He smiled, “There’s nothing I’d like more, my love.”
His gaze reflected sincerity and you gulped as you found your way back in the crook of his neck, your lips brushing against his sensitive skin. You licked the vein you had sensed earlier but didn’t push further. That’s when you felt the vibration of his chuckle, “Go on, darling. I can take it, I promise.”
With his permission, you pushed your small fangs right over the vein in his neck, relishing in the sudden flood of his crimson in your mouth.
Whatever you drank a few minutes ago was nothing compared to his blood. He was the source in a desert you had been roaming for days, one you couldn’t believe wasn't an illusion, and you drank, and drank, losing yourself in his neck, in his taste, the very essence that fueled him.
You couldn’t tell how much you had drank or how much time had passed when he growled and pinned your arms next to your head. His hips thrusting once, deeper into you and hitting your cervix is what makes you unlatch from his neck with a moan.
“I believe that’s enough, love. Now, let me taste you.”
His lips collided with yours hungrily as he increased his pace between your legs, and he groaned at the taste of himself on your lips, running his tongue across your small fangs.
“Fuck, I need you, I need to make you mine. I need—”
Something snapped within him, a side of him you couldn’t recall ever seeing — one that he could finally let go as he pushed your legs up, pinning them down across your chest and pounded deeper into you.
He growled into your ear as he desperately rutted into you, nearing the edge of his climax at the same time as yours, “I want you, I want you for the rest of our lives, please be mine, be mine, be mine!”
“I’m yours, I'm yours, I— I love you!”
You screamed as you came, his own orgasm following closely after yours, the wave of emotions clashing with the sparks of pleasure coursing throughout your body, and for a moment, you think you died and came back to life within the same minute. It was stronger than anything you remember feeling — even with your memories still scattered, you think you’d remember something as powerful.
It’s only when you came back to your senses and was met with Astarion’s soft, dumbfounded expression, that you realised what you had just said. Panic slowly made its way into your heart and you struggled to find the right words to correct yourself.
“I’m sorry— I—”
He didn’t allow you to finish that sentence, kissing you once more to steal away those thoughts of regret that faded instantly as he pulled back to speak.
“I love you too, darling.”
Your future was paved with incertitude; your memory wasn’t all there yet, but you remembered what was important for now, and if forgetting your past was the price to create new memories with him, it was a price you were willing to pay.
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992 notes · View notes
remiratboi · 3 months ago
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Float
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Masterlist
Yandere!G/NTentacleMonsterXG/NFatReader
CW: Near death, drowning, grief, loss of family to car accident (mentioned, not explicit), monster fucking, noncon that turns to dubcon, stalking, yandere, tentacles, obsession, ovipositor, breeding, oviposition, anal, insertion, maybe Stockholm Syndrome?
The waves lapped at your edges. The sky above you was overcast and threatening to rain. You gazed up from where you floated on the water. It was serene and peaceful.
You loved this lake. Every summer you and your family had spent their summers at this lake, in their vacation cabin. It was just up the beach a short ways. Now, you’re an adult, and your family is gone. This cabin became your haven.
For a few years after the incident, you tried keeping up a job, but your heart wasn’t in it anymore. You sold everything you owned, took that and your inheritance, and moved permanently to the little two bedroom cabin.
It was secluded and only a few other families had homes here. You were the only one who lived here year round.
It was for those reasons you regularly felt comfortable enough to wade into the waters, naked. It was freeing. Being in nature, no restrictions, just floating. You felt like you were one with the soft waves.
Scattered droplets of rain plunked into the water around you. It was soft and slow. You knew you should head to shore. The clouds threatened worse than some rain. It would be just like you to get electrocuted in the middle of nowhere. You rolled your eyes at yourself.
5 more minutes, you thought. If the rain got a lot worse, you’d go quicker. But you loved these moments. The sky darkening by the second, rain falling around you. Totally isolated and at peace.
You shouldn’t have waited those meaningless 5 more minutes.
It started with a light brush on your ankle. You wrote it off as weeds or a small fish. When something wrapped around your calf, though, it was harder to ignore.
You splashed in the water, trying to jerk your leg away. Whatever was holding it, held tight. A cold panic ran through your body. This was a small, very inland, fresh water lake. Nothing here should be able to grip you the way this thing was. Your analytical brain ran through a hundred different possibilities while you thrashed.
You tried swimming anyway, but very quickly found yourself turned around as the storm raised the waves higher. Tears rolled down your face. You gripped the… thing on your leg and tried to wrench it off. It held tight. It felt like flesh, something pulsed. It seemed content to just hold your leg, and soon it became the least of your worries.
Waves crashed around you, pushing you under. You fought against the pressure, gasping breaths when you could. Lightning flashed in the sky. Close, too close.
A part you relaxed when you consciously realized you were going to die. You had been fighting for so long. Desperately trying to live and function. But your mental health had been bad long before your entire family died in a tragic car accident. At this point, you were shocked to realize, you almost welcomed death. Well, not death so much, as silence. No longer listening to the voices in your head. No longer missing those you’d lost. While you didn’t desire death, you found it didn’t upset you as much as you’d expected.
Another flash of lighting. The sky was almost black now. Your chest was full of water, and your muscles burned. You didn’t want to fight anymore.
You closed your eyes and stilled your limbs. The waves pushed you down immediately. Your chest burned as you tried not to breathe in the water, but soon you couldn’t help yourself. You gasped and water rushed in. It was more painful than you’d expected. You opened your eyes and gazed up at the surface of the water. You could see its movements, but it felt like it was a thousand miles away.
Some part of your brain registered that the thing holding your leg tightened. The water around you started moving faster. Your vision started to fade and you tried to focus on all the happiest moments of your life. Thinking grew harder until all you could picture was your favourite family photo from a few christmases ago. Their smiling faces brought you comfort as the world slipped away.
*********
You were wrenched back to life and heaved water from your lungs. You sat up, coughing, tears streaming down your face. You were freezing. It took a moment for your eyes to adjust, but you found yourself on a smooth, damp stone in what appeared to be a cave. The water was black and inky next to you.
You sat naked, and shivering. Where were you? Was this death?
“Why are you so sad?” A smooth voice rung out, startling you. You couldn’t identify where it came from as it bounced off the cave walls. It seemed to have some light accent to it. The way the words were said felt overly enunciated and clipped.
You gathered your knees to your chest and tried to cover your body. You couldn’t help a shiver roll through you.
“Please, why are you so sad?” The voice asked again. You thought it came from the water.
“Wh… who are you?” You stuttered out.
“Rav” the voice replied.
“Rav? Is that your name?” You asked.
“Name.” The voiced seemed to play with the word. “Rav is me. Who are you?”
“Um, Rav, where are we?” You ignored their question.
“Near home.” Rav answered. You thought you could make out an area of water that didn’t behave like the rest.
“Near my home?” You moved your head to the side to try to catch a different angle of the creature.
“My home.” Rav answered. You nodded to yourself.
“Can you come closer?” The fear almost stopped you from asking. Rav didn’t answer for a moment, but then you saw the water ripple.
Slowly they came into your view. You didn’t even know what to call them. Creature seemed accurate. They had a humanoid head, but their skin was as black as the water. They had large all black eyes and no nose. Their lips looked human, but the gills on their neck told you they didn’t need a mouth to breathe.
“Hi.” You said, then chuckled at yourself. What a ridiculous thing to say in a ridiculous situation.
“Hello.” Rav replied. They continued up the rock and emerged from the water. Their body far surpassed their head in strangeness. They had limbs similar to arms and legs, but they were long, thick tentacles. They had several smaller tentacles along their torso. These seemed to move of their own will, squirming and writhing. Rav walked… slithered? You weren’t sure, up the rock towards you. They were also naked, but didn’t seem to share human anatomy.
“Will you take me home?” You looked up into their black eyes above you. Rav looked down at you with what you thought to be an amused smile.
“Home not safe for you. Deep.” You thought that they didn’t have any problems with speech, but their knowledge seemed to be limited.
“My home.” You clarified. Rav shook their head.
“You are so sad at home.” You laughed self deprecatingly at their words.
“It’s not about the home. I’m just sad.”
“Rav make you happy.” They said and held out a hand… tentacle.
“Uh, thank you, but I am quite happy on my own.” You didn’t take their tentacle.
“You killed yourself.” Rav stated, unconvinced.
“Oh, no, I didn’t mean to. It was an accident.” You forced a wide, fake smile. Rav didn’t seem to believe you.
“You cry often.” Rav shook their head sadly. “Rav can’t watch anymore.”
Watch?!
“Yeah, I… uh I lost some people I love, and it’s been hard. But I’m ok, really. It’s part of moving on.” You hesitantly reached out and patted their still extended tentacle.
“Rav will help you.” They answered, and smiled a strange, eerie smile at you. You guessed they were trying to imitate yours. “Rav has loved you for a long time.”
Loved?!
“You don’t know me?” You started feeling uneasy and tried scooting back on the rock. You became very aware of your nakedness.
“Rav does know you. Rav has watched you for many years. You are always so sad, and Rav can fix that. Rav can love you, can make you feel good.” They stepped forward, claiming back the space you’d put between you.
“Th-thank you for saving me, now please take me home, I want to go home.” You pushed further until a hard wall pressed against your back. Rav continued stepping forward.
“No. Rav can… I can show you.” They spoke slowly. You had to credit how fast they seemed to learn, but that didn’t stop you from cowering at their feet.
You felt something slide up your leg again and you thrashed, trying to escape. It was like blood in the water and with your movement, suddenly their tentacles were everywhere. Your arms were quickly gripped and pulled straight out. Your legs unbent and spread also. In a flash, you were spread eagle in the air, hanging just above Rav, trapped by their tentacles. Tears ran down your face again. It wasn’t hard to guess what they meant by “make you feel good”.
More tentacles joined the others, seemingly unending. They ran over your bare cunt. You were ashamed that in that moment, you thought about how long it had been since you’d been fucked. A part of you almost wanted this. You were so lonely. And Rav was right, you were so sad. You tried snapping yourself out of it.
One tentacle sucked onto your clit and pulsed. You couldn’t help the cry of surprise that ripped itself from your lips. This just seemed to fuel the creature in front of you. They plunged a thick tentacle into your cunt, in one deep thrust. You cried out half in pain and half in pleasure.
Rav didn’t seem to have much experience, but what they lacked, they made up for in sheer number of appendages. They seemed desperate, tentacles roaming over every inch of your body. Each noise, movement, or reaction from you made them repeat the action that had elicited it. They played with your nipples and clit. Those seemed to pull the best reactions from you.
Another tentacle pushed against your ass, and before you could even gargle out a plea, it plunged just as deep as the one in your cunt. You moaned loudly. Two thick tentacles rested inside you. The sucker on your clit continued pulsing. A new tentacle circled your throat and rested near your lips. Rav seemed to understand you needed to breathe, but it played with your lips, pushing in slightly, exploring.
After a while of this, you started feeling desperate yourself. Rav was playing with you. Their tentacles stayed still inside you, the one on your clit pushing you along, but never tipping you over the edge.
You squirmed, trying desperately to deny your desire. You didn’t want this. You wouldn’t beg. They would get bored eventually. Right?
“Please.” you felt yourself mutter.
“Please?” Rav replied in a questioning tone.
“Please ma-make me cum.” So much for not begging.
“Cum?” They questioned again.
“M-move them.” You stuttered out. You ground your hips into the tentacles for emphasis. Rav looked from your face to your cunt, confused. It seemed to dawn on them what you wanted as you pushed yourself against their tentacles.
Rav thrust the two even deeper inside you. You let out a mangled cry and your vision was full of speckles.
“Too deep!” You cried. Rav pulled the tentacles back out, almost leaving your body all together. Then they thrust them back in, but only to about where they had them the first time. You moaned loudly and leaned your head back. Now they understood.
Rav started pushing the two thick tentacles in and out of you at a wicked pace. You practically screamed and writhed on them. After a long time of being kept on edge, your orgasm crashed through you almost instantly. You squeezed your eyes shut. Rav didn’t stop pounding into you.
Their pace didn’t falter. You felt so full. Two, thick, long tentacles curled deep inside you. You could feel the suckers along them pulling at your insides. It was incredible and bizarre. It wasn’t long until a second orgasm ripped through you.
“You’re ready.” Rav said, focus solely on your dripping cunt.
“Wha…” you tried to ask, but your brain was starting to feel like mush. You felt like you were floating again.
The tentacle in your cunt withdrew, while the other stayed, but slowed down. It lazily moved in and out of you. Something new pressed against your cunt and you gathered your strength to pull your head up. A slit had opened on Rav’s lower half and a thick, very bulbous tentacle had emerged. It pressed against you. It was wider than the other, but not by much, and your cunt was dripping. Your fat pussy lips embraced the tip of whatever this was.
Rav groaned as they slowly pushed the new tentacle into you. It settled against your cervix. They didn’t move this one. You watched as something glowing could be seen moving from their body, through the tentacle. It was slightly larger than the tentacle, and made a round imprint as it moved. You froze.
“Wait-” you started. You tried, in vain, to wiggle away. Rav tightened their grip.
The thing moved out of your view and you felt it inside you. Soon it was pressing against your cervix. You cried out and sobbed. The pain was incredible. You tried frantically to squirm away, but it was no use. You felt the thing push through and enter your deepest parts.
To your horror, another glowing egg started travelling towards your pussy. And another. Soon the tentacle was full of them. You begged with incoherent words. It was no use.
Egg after egg pushed into you. Your stomach bulged with them. A faint glow shone through your skin. You blacked out at one point, and were awoken by a painful orgasm. It burned, and fuelled you. You started enjoying the feeling of the eggs slip into you. You had never felt so full before.
Finally, stomach tight and glowing, Rav pulled out of you. They lowered you and pressed you against their body. Something like a coo came out of their mouth and they looked down at you with what couldn’t be mistaken for anything but complete adoration.
“You did very good.” They comforted. You found yourself blushing and hiding your face against their chest. For some reason you felt safe. Some part of you recognized that was insane, but you had been alone, so truly, bitterly alone for so long. Years. Was it really so bad to let this creature comfort you?
*********
In the weeks that followed, Rav returned you to your home. They couldn’t be out of water for long, but they spent as much time as they could with you. You’d sit in the bathroom and read to them while they sat in the tub. As it turns out, they were incredibly intelligent, and wildly curious. They had an innocence you had never experienced.
They were clever too. Witty as all hell, and kind. As your stomach grew, so did your feelings. As crazy as it was, you fell in love with this creature. They were also alone. Their family didn’t seem to work the way humans did. They didn’t stay, they weren’t raised. They were laid and left. But Rav had spent their childhood watching you and your family. They wanted something different.
Somehow, in the strangest way, you had both found a new family. You were, finally, happy.
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reginyani · 19 days ago
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Wet Dreams | s.reid x fem!reader
summary: Spencer decides to call it a day and head to bed, where he has a vivid wet dream of one of his female coworkers at the BAU.
cw: 18+, mdni, nsfw, dom!reader, sub!spencer, fem!bau!reader, oral sex, blowjob, reader swallows, use of Y/N, wet dreams
wc: 1174
authors note: sorry for the inactivity on my account! decided to pay back for that with some spencer smut;) enjoy! if you did, like and reblog!
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It was an ordinary night, or so Spencer thought. The hum of the lights in his apartment, the soft tick of the clock on the wall, and the familiar weight of the blanket wrapped around his lower body. Yet something was still different.
 
When he closed his eyes, the world around him slowly started to drift away into an even deeper atmosphere.
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It started like any other dream he has had—disjointed, unclear—but soon it shifted, warped. He found himself still lying down, leaning up on his bed. The room was dimly lit, and the air was thick with unfamiliar tension. The walls were dark, shadowed, as though the room itself was alive and shifting with every passing second.
 
Before he could process what was happening, the sound of footsteps echoed through the space. He looked up from his covers and found you standing in the doorway of the bedroom.
 
It was you, his BAU co-worker. Unlike anyone he had ever seen, a vision so striking he forgot how to breathe for a second. Your eyes glowed deeply in the low light, and your presence radiated an intense, magnetic pull. You weren't just beautiful; you were something otherworldly. It was odd; he had never noticed it before. As you stepped closer, Spencer's heart skipped a beat.
 
"What are you... doing here?" He asked, his voice hoarse, as if his body were betraying him. It was unable to comply with his usual levelheadedness.
 
"What do you mean, silly? I've been here," you said, continuing to walk over to the edge of his bed.
 
"I—uh..." He's at a loss for words, raising an eyebrow as he watches your body sway side to side as your footsteps make noise against the wood floor.
 
Once you finally make it to his bed, you crawl onto it, on all fours, making your way up his body. You smirk, looking into his big brown eyes. You snatch the blanket off, throwing it somewhere to find some other time.
 
"I can give you exactly what you need, Spencer," you said, your voice soft and melodic, your words carefully crafted to seduce him. It made his pulse race, a sudden heat rising in his chest that he couldn't explain.
 
"Need?" He gulped, sitting up straighter as your body towered over his, his brain trying to catch up with the situation. "I don't... I don't understand," his sad brown puppy eyes staring into your glowing ones in confusion.
 
You leaned in, your face mere inches from his, your breath warm against his skin. "I'm what you need in this exact moment," you whispered. "A way to... release tension, free you from the weight of your thoughts. You think so much, analyzing everything, but sometimes... you need to have an escape."
 
His chest tightened at the suggestion, his mind racing with undignified thoughts. There was something about your presence that made it impossible for him to think straight. It was as if you knew every part of him, every desire, every worry he buried deep inside himself.
 
"You don't have to think anything," you murmured, your fingers brushing over the waistband of his pajama pants. "Just feel."
 
Spencer's breath hitched as he looked down at your hand. He always prided himself on his control, but here, in this strange dream, that control seemed to slip through his fingers. His mind screamed to not allow this to happen, but his body betrayed him as he let out a whimper in anticipation.
 
You smiled at his inner conflict, his whimper music to your ears. "You don't have to fight it," you continued to whisper to him, seductively. "Do you want this, Spencer?" you finally ask.
 
He looks back up at you before finally nodding his head. "...Yes."
 
You grin, quickly pulling down his pajama pants and boxers all at once. His cock sprung out, already hard. He looks away from the scene, closing his eyes in embarrassment.
 
"Don't be embarrassed, baby. It's just me," you say, reassuring him and his doubts about this. Although there was no turning back now.
 
You look back down to his throbbing member, taking it in your hand and stroking it slowly. He turns his head back over, his mouth opening as a low groan escapes his lips.
 
"Oh... oh." he let out, throwing his head back in pleasure. You looked up to see his messy brown curls fall from his slightly wet forehead, his image more beautiful than ever.
Pathetic. It turned you on.
You finally lean your head down, taking it in your mouth slowly, your lips gliding over him as your hand worked the rest that couldn't fit into your mouth. Your tongue began to swirl and flick against the tip, feeling the smooth surface in your mouth.
 
Spencer couldn't hold back anymore. His hands flung to your head, gripping your hair, and he pushed your head further, allowing his cock to be fully pushed into your mouth. He holds your hair back as you begin to bob your head up and down, gagging as his cock hits the back of your throat.
 
Spencer's legs began to shake slightly, moaning loudly. His shame wasn't apparent anymore, as he allowed himself to guide your head on his length, beginning to thrust his hips unwillingly.
 
"Fuck... Just like that." He continues to thrust, this time in a steady rhythm, sliding in and out of your mouth with a swishing sound. Your lips gripped around his cock, driving him closer to release. "God, Y/N. You're so... talented."
 
You look up at him, your eyes locking with his, filled with lust and desire. All his problems seemed to fade away, nothing on his mind but the feeling of your lips clenching against his cock. You moan slightly, sending vibrations up his length, making him stutter out a whimper.
 
"I'm... I'm close..." he warned, his voice low but filled with pleasure as you worked your mouth on him.
 
Suddenly, a loud whine escaped his mouth, his legs heavily shaking uncontrollably. He clutched the sheets, his knuckles turning white as a warm liquid began to fill your mouth.
 
You swallowed.
 
You slide your mouth off his cock with a loud pop, sitting upward as you gaze at his face.
 
"You did so well, baby." You cooed, praising him as you brushed a strand of his hair behind his ear. He sighed softly, his arms shaking as he struggled to keep his body up. "I'm glad I could help you escape, even if it wasn't real."
 
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That was the last thing you said before his eyes opened, breathing heavily as he sat up in his bed. The remnants of the dream lingered in the edges of Spencer's mind. It had been so vivid, so real—the kind of dream where every detail felt significant. Spencer rubbed his temples, pulling fragments of the haze, but the more he thought about it, the further it seemed to fade away.
 
How was he gonna act when he saw you at work? He flipped his sheets off his hot body, then looked down at his pajama pants.
 
Fuck.
 
Is all he thought as he looked down at the wet splotch on his crotch.
 
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arvlelt · 1 month ago
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crawling back to you.
pairing - vi x fem!reader
cw - nsfw, mdni 18+, yall are ex fling things, vi is down BADDD, oral (r. recieving), teasing, drunkish sex, angst (?), munch!vi, switch!vi (sub!leaning?), praise, slight overstimulation, slight biting, dirty talk, fluff, lmk if i missed anything.
summary - vi never thought she'd see you again. simply existing in her mind as somebody that she used to know, but there you were, staring at her from outside the ring in disbelief.
w.count - 2.9k+
a/n - haven’t written in a fat minute so i apologize if this is butt. but i’ve been watching arcane and saw how much content it lacked on here so ello :) not rlly proofread
her ear drums were ringing and everything was spinning as they declared vi the winner once again, her fist coming up in the air to show victory.
to say that vi had gone off the wagon was, an understatement to say the least. first, you and vi had stop talking for awhile now, and it seemed like it was finally catching up to vi that she wasn't going to see you again.
she had tried distractions, a pretty girl with blue straight hair, but of course that was never going to be enough to forget the kind of girl you were.
ever since you had gone your separate ways, everything felt like a daze to her. it's not like she did anything different. she fell into the hole of drinking and violence since you left. and as she scanned the room around her, seeing all the cheers, as well as some being fairly disappointed in her opponents loss, she felt as if her eyes were deceiving her when she saw a familiar face in the crowd.
one that she didn't want to see her in this state.
she scoffed and brushed it off, convincing herself it was the alcohol messing with her senses.
you couldn't believe what you were seeing, you weren't going to deny that she only got more attractive to you, but what on earth happened?
back when you and vi were still together she barely sipped on alcohol, and there she was stumbling and fighting in the ring.
you were barely downing your 4th shot before you heard people shouting for the winner, and your curiosity got the best of you, as some part of you was hoping one day you'd bump into her again.
you watched as she stumbled to grab her fair share, she made eye contact with you, but you were sure she didn't believe it was you.
you didn't want to believe it when there was word of a new hot fighter in the ring that had a streak of winning.
it’s not like you kept tabs on her, your curiosity got the best of you when she became the talk of the undercity. and her little ring happened to be located at the same place as your favorite bar.
you made your way through the crowd to get to where she would get out the ring.
you watched her stumble out the ring, "...vi?" oh someone had to have roofied her drink. because why did vi hear the voice of the girl that caused her all this.
her low eyes looked up in the direction of your voice, the people around them were in her field of vision but she could make out your figure in the crowd.
this had happened to vi before, where she would hallucinate you while being extremely intoxicated. and she thought this was another one of those times as she groaned and closed her eyes, hoping the hallucination would go away.
you made your way to her, you didn't know why as you two didn't really set off on the best of terms.
the roars of the crows and the music was messing with vi, and it wasn't until you were in front of her, hands reaching out to maybe cradle her face that she realized it wasn’t one of those times.
vi looked different. black hair, black makeup on her face, and eyes filled with something you couldn't quite define.
your fingers brushed her face, concern evident on your face as vi took you in, "oh, vi. what happened to you?" and vi broke.
she basically leaped into your arms, one arm wrapping around your waist, and the other coming up to cradle the back of your head. yours found themselves around her neck, one hand brushing the back of her nape. and suddenly everything, all the emotions, all the memories, came flooding back into vi.
"are you real?" you could barely make out what she said as you were recovering from her very evident desperation to have you in her arms.
it was very uncharacteristic of her. the last time you two had seen each other, some awful things were said and it ended with vi walking out on you.
but even with how you two had ended, you knew that if you ever saw her again you wouldn't be able to help wanting to help her.
and that's how you ended up at her very messy apartment. well, before you ordered more drinks for yourself as you caught up with vi in the bar. you helped her home and she was very evidently drunk, but that didn't stop her from talking her mind to you.
"'m sorry about everything i said to you. i didn't mean it. i hope you know that, ive missed you so much," her words were slurred as you took her up the stairs of her apartment, your hand gripping her by the waist and the other grabbing her hand that was around your shoulder.
you could feel your heart racing at her words.
your eyes looked at her for a sec, "you're drunk, vi. tell me all this when we're sober, kay?" you continued up the stairs as you could hear vi scoff at you, dragging you a bit as her footing was off.
"just because im drunk doesn't mean shit. i'd still bend you over and eat that up," you could hear the shit-eating grin she had. her vulgar word definitely got to you as you felt the back your ears heating up, the alcohol making you want to just let her have her way with you.
"violet, get the fuck inside, please." your hands gripped her hand a little harder at the thought of that happening, again.
you could hear her drunkenly laugh before listening and making it easier for you to lead her up.
vi stumbled at her door as you watched her open the door, "don't mind the mess, pretty. but i guess you have seen worse," you remembered how messy her room could get.
vi got comfy on her bed, leaning back before sitting back up.
you stepped in and closed the door behind you. there were bottles littered all over the floor, but other than that it was just unorganized. her bed was a pillow with one blanket, "yeah sorry, not much to offer."
you could feel guilt and sadness overwhelming you, is this what she's being going through lately? and for how long? vi didn't seem to notice your weariness as you approached her.
vi was looking down and noticed your feet suddenly in front of her. she looked up at you. "what's up?"
your hands couldn't help themselves as they held her face, "are you okay?"
vi smiled in your hands, "better now that i have you here," vi could see that you weren't convinced, "don't worry 'bout me, sweetheart," one of her hands came up to grab one of your hands, brushing your hand with her thumb before putting it up to her lips and giving it a kiss.
"i've missed you," she mumbled against your skin, causing goosebumps on your skin. she continued kissing along your hand, the other grabbing you by the waist and pulling you closer.
you gasped as her kisses were tracing up your arm, as she got closer to your shoulder, her other hand went down to your hip, pulling you on top of her lap, your hands instinctively find themselves on the back of her neck.
vi held back a moan at the feeling of your cunt on top of hers. her being drunk making it feel better than if she was sober.
"vi, you're- you're drunk-, we're drunk, we can't-" you breathlessly let out as you felt her lips trailing up your collarbone. your hands went up to her black locks, pulling it and making her look up at you.
"wanna taste you again," she muttered out, hands busying themselves with feeling you up again. her hands found your hips and your thighs, rubbing on them that had you tightening your legs around her thighs, “i don't care if i'm drunk or not. i mean- unless you do then i'll back off, but, i wanna make you feel good again."
oh she was down bad.
and you couldn’t deny you weren’t as you could feel a warmth growing between your legs, the alcohol making everything spin in a way that had you wanting her more.
you could feel your self control growing thin as you felt her thrusting up into you slightly, the one hand on your hip grounding you down a bit more making you bite your lip before you spoke. "vi, are you sure? i don't wanna make you do something while you're under the influence."
vi suddenly stood up, grabbing you by your ass, standing steadily as if to prove a point of her sobriety. you kicked your feet at the feeling of her touching you again with a slight smile finding it's way to your face.
you never thought you'd find yourself in her arms again, but here you were, tipsy in her arms.
she set you down and looked at you, caressing one side of your face. you melted in her hand, "i've never been more sure than anything. and honestly, i feel sober, i mean, look at you." you felt her eyes trailing down your body, the shorts showing off your legs to her.
her eyes went back up to meet your eyes, "completely up to you, pretty. you have my consent. if not it's totally okay. but..," she trailed off before slowly falling down on her knees, "if you're okay with it, lemme take those off for you."
you felt your breathing get a bit heavier as your heart thumped in your chest at the sight of vi on her knees in front of you, practically waiting to eat your pussy. it filled you with a sense of pride.
you stepped back and sat on her bed, crossing your legs with a smile, "then what're you waiting for?" she was practically running on her knees to you. her fingers hooking around the loops of your shorts, making you uncross your legs with a giggle at her desperation.
vi smiled at the sound of your laugh, her smile faltering and gaping wide open at the sight of you in your lacy underwear.
you caught it and gave a chuckle, "what? you like 'em, baby?" oh vi was going to cry in relief of you calling her that again.
you could sense her submitting to you as she timidly nodded her head. you leaned over to her and grabbed her hands, placing them on your thighs, "don't be shy now, c'mon, touch me.”
you felt her big hands graze your thighs and going up to your hips, messing with the fabric of your underwear. you could feel her sudden hesitation on what to do, suddenly feeling shy under your gaze, “what, baby? you want me to stand up?” you offered with a tilt of your head, grinning when you could see her getting shy.
oh you were enjoying this.
“mhm,” vi muttered, licking her lips as you stood before her, the alcohol seeming to diminish from your bloodstream at the adrenaline you were getting from this.
she took in your figure once more, as you had discarded your shirt in the midst of standing up. eyes shimmering at the sight of you again, “god, you’re just as beautiful as i remember.” you melted at her words, a smile itching on your face.
you watched as she got up on her knees and began leaving kisses on your stomach, making you reel your head back at the feeling of her lips on you.
you took the liberty of taking your bra off and throwing it into a random part of her room, and instantly putting one hand in her black hair. you brushed her hairs back, “wanna make me feel good again? is that it?” vi looked so good in your hands like this.
vi let out a slight whimper at the feeling of your hands in her hair, nodding her head at your question, “thought you were gonna take these off me, no?” you gave her a slight smile as she went back to kissing your stomach, her hands coming up to grip your breasts, giving them both a light squeeze before playing with your nipples.
“‘m nervous,” she admits, quietly. her voice muffled by her kisses leading down to your lower belly as she lowered herself on her knees more.
you let out a chuckle, your hands letting go of her hair before you shimmied off your panties, “if it makes you feel better, i’m definitely wet. your words earlier put a little scenario in my head. made me… remember a few things,” vi’s eyes widened at your boldness as she was now face to face with your pussy, face growing hot at what you could’ve been thinking of.
you lifted a leg and place it on her shoulder, pulling her in closer as she looked up at you through her lashes, “go on,” you licked your lips and nearly wanted to fall back as her fingers spread you slowly, watching as her head disappeared between your legs before you felt her hot breath on your cunt, making you let out a soft sigh.
your sigh turned into a whine as she started to very slowly lick up and down your pussy.
your eyes closed at the pleasure, “mm, fuck, baby,” and vi squeezed her thighs at the sight of you with a leg on her shoulder, face all screwed up in pleasure.
her other hand went behind the leg on her shoulder, grabbing a handful of your ass and pulling you closer as she began to lick and suck at your clit, making you cry out, “hah— ah, just like that, baby, ooh—“
you felt her tongue swirl down, causing her nose to bump into your clit as her tongue made its way down to your entrance, where she was teasing you slightly, enjoying the view of you clenching around nothing.
you began rocking your hips against her face, knees wanting to give out at the pleasure. she moaned against your pussy, causing vibrations that had your toes curling, “am i doing good?” she kneaded your ass, encouraging you and helping you move against her face.
you nearly want to fall back and just let her at it, “mm— fuck, yes, you’re doing so good violet, such a good girl f'me, aren't you?,” you emphasized your words by rocking more aggressively against her face as the the sounds became more obscene within the room.
violet could cum alone at the sight behold her. her tongue was lapping at your continuous flowing juices, slurping you up like you were last meal.
“mm, love this pussy so much. missed it so much, baby,” she mumbled against you. you moaned and grabbed her hair as she started to tease your entrance with her two thick fingers.
your eyes nearly rolled back as she very suddenly thrust her fingers in you, curling them immediately, her other hand pulling you closer by your ass, her tongue still lapping at your clit, the sounds of her slurping you up only made you wetter.
“i bet you did, look at you, doing so fucking good,” you began rocking your hips in coordination with her fingers inside you, wanting to feel her as deep as she could get.
your knees going weak when vi finds that gummy spot in your walls, very aggressively curling her fingers, watching as your hips spasmed against her tongue, “ooh— fuck, violet, right there, right there!” vi could sense your other leg going weak as it trembled.
she didn’t stop her movements as she used her shoulders to place your struggling leg on it, watching as you relaxed and laid back on the bed, moaning out at the new discovered angle — two legs on either shoulder with her going absolutely crazy in between your legs.
“god, vi, haa—“ you threw your head back as she started pumping her fingers in n out of you at a fast pace, the squelching making the tightness in your belly grow more and more.
“ooh, fuck, ‘m almost there, ‘m almost there, please—,” you could feel her smile, her tongue only lapping faster at your clit.
she stopped her assault on your puffy clit, fingers still pumping into you as her pace increased, enjoying the way you were moving your hips against her fingers.
“c’mon, pretty, cum all over my fingers,” you felt the knot in your belly winding up more as the warmth began spreading throughout your body, causing you to curl your toes at the feeling of her fingers working in you.
vi leaned down and began leaving kisses on your inner thighs, occasionally leaving little kitten licks on your pussy, pushing you to the edge as your legs tensed “right there, right there!”
your moan broke out into a silent scream as vi bit down on your inner thigh, driving you over the edge as your orgasm rippled throughout your body.
“haa— fffffuuckk, ooh, my god,” your legs tightened around her head, locking her in place as she suddenly started to lick on your clit again to ride you through your orgasm, making you ride her face throughout the spasms of please you felt, overstimulating yourself a bit as you shivered at the feeling.
vi could feel how wet she was in her own panties, grinning at the way you suddenly stopped moving, hands falling by your side as your chest heaved up and down.
your head poked up and gave her a smile, legs loosening around her neck as vi licked at her fingers, wiping her face as well.
and god she hopes this isn’t a dream.
cause if it wasn’t, she was surely crawling back to you.
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nina-ya · 1 month ago
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Synopsis: You are wrapped up for Law and he can't help himself. Pairing: Law x afab reader CW: SMUT MINORS DNI, use of 'good girl' twice, bondage, vision loss, overstimulation, Law is a cocky bastard, fingering, p in v sex, creampie • ficmas masterlist • ko-fi • discord server •
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The world was reduced to darkness, your vision swallowed by the silken ribbon tied snugly over your eyes. Robbed of sight, every other sense seemed to come alive, leaving you hyper-aware of the faintest shift in the air and the quietest of sounds that punctuate the room. That same material that stole your sight crisscrossed against your chest, wrapped once, twice, thrice around your abdomen, and looped around your wrists, locking them behind you in a snug bind that left you helplessly exposed.
Your breaths came unsteady, each inhale shallow and tremulous as you strained to decipher his movements in the silence. The air itself was thick with a suffocating tension, and even without seeing, you could feel his presence nearby just barely out of reach, waiting and waiting.
“Relax,” Law’s voice finally cut through the stillness. The sound of it hit you like a physical force, rippling from head to toe before settling in your lower belly. 
Your lips parted to respond, but the words tangled on your tongue, dissolving into a shaky exhale. He didn’t touch you right away, oh no, he made you wait, letting you marinate in your own breathless vulnerability.
When his fingers finally skimmed the bare skin of your shoulder, you jerked, a soft gasp falling from your lips. The touch was so light it might’ve been a figment of your imagination if not for the trail of warmth left in its wake. 
“So sensitive like this,” he murmured, a hint of amusement curling in his words. His fingertips danced over your skin, trailing up the side of your neck until two fingers pressed against your carotid, feeling the rapid thump thump thump under your skin. “Good. That’s exactly what I want.”
Your throat bobbed as you swallowed, unconsciously tilting your head towards his touch, chasing the heat of him. But before you could indulge, he moved again. The soft creak of the floorboards was the only clue to his whereabouts. He circled you like a predator savoring the moment before the pounce, his commanding presence palpable even in the emptiness. 
When his hands returned to your shoulders, you jumped again, a startled gasp escaping you once more. His palms pressed firmly into the tense muscles there, kneading as he leaned in close. 
“You’re holding your breath,” he noted softly, his voice dropping into a husky whisper. “Don't. Breathe for me.”
A trembling sigh slipped past your lips as your body obeyed his command, though it was difficult when every nerve in your body was on high alert. His hands slid down, tracing the curve of your arms until they reached your bound wrists. He tugged the ribbon there to remind you of its presence, and you swear you could see the smug smirk plastered on his face despite the lack of sight.
“Law,” you finally whispered, your voice cracking slightly. The sound of your own voice startled you in the quiet room. You weren’t sure what you were asking for– clarity, reassurance, mercy, or simply for his touch again. 
The silk ribbon bit into your skin as Law hauled you up from the chair. Each subtle pulse of your heartbeat throbbed against the bindings, a constant reminder of your helplessness. You stumbled slightly as he led you forward until the edge of the bed pressed against the front of your thighs. The surface was soft and inviting, but his hands on your hips were the opposite- rough and controlling, coaxing you forward until your body was bent over the surface.
When he touched you again, it was maddeningly slow, the faintest of graze of his fingertips gliding down your spine, leaving a trail of goosebumps. The teasing path sent a shiver straight through you, his touch tracing down the curve of your back until it reached the swell of your ass. He kneaded the plush flesh, his movements languid and unhurried as he savored the sight in front of him.
But then his hand slid lower, trailing to the place you craved him most. The first press of his fingers was light, barely pressing the slick heat of your core, and the restraint of his touch was devastating. Your thighs trembled, a sharp whine escaping your lips as you strained against the silken binds, desperate for more.
“You’re soaked already,” he murmured, the words dark and drenched in skin. He dragged his fingers through the wetness with an almost mocking gentleness, fanning the flames of the growing ache within you.
A gasp tore from you as you bucked your hips back, chasing his touch. He chuckled at your feeble attempt. “Impatient,” he said, the word dripping with amusement. But he obliged, whether out of cruelty or kindness, you couldn’t be sure. 
Two fingers slipped into you without warning, the sudden stretch stealing your breath. Your walls fluttered around him as he withdrew only to thrust back in as he worked you open. He curled then inside you, angling until he had you shattering under his touch, stars bursting behind your eyes as you arched into his touch.
Your bound wrists trembled against the small of your back, useless in their constraints. A litany of gasps and shuddering breaths spilling from your lips. Maybe you subconsciously held back so you could hear the world beyond the ribbon that stole your sight. Or maybe you just weren’t in a vocal mood at the moment. Whatever the reason was, Law wasn’t pleased with it.
“You’re holding back,” Law chided, voice sharp enough to cut through the haze of your pleasure. “That won’t do.”
The ribbon at your wrists was pulled taut as he yanked you upright, your legs giving out beneath you as he hauled you flush against his chest. His breath was hot against your ear as you felt his hand reach around your front, using his arm to hold you up as his hand found your chin, gripping your jaw firmly. “Let me hear you,” he ordered, his voice low. 
The fingers that were knuckle deep inside of you continued to coax you closer and closer to the edge. Your resolve shattered as a low, needy moan spilled from your lips, followed by a wail as he curled his fingers just so, hitting that one spot inside of you with devastating accuracy. 
“That’s better,” he growled against your ear, his voice rough with satisfaction. “I want to hear every little sound.”
His fingers continued to hit that spot over and over and over again, your body tensing and the pleasure in your core coiling tighter and tighter by the second. And then you broke, a cry ripping from your throat as that coil finally snapped, your release washing over you as your walls fluttered around his fingers. A string of pleads, curses, and cries of his name fell from your lips, each sound dripping with raw, unrestrained desire. The high left you trembling, your limbs slack and useless as your chest heaved with shallow breaths. And before the intensity had fully faded, he withdrew, leaving a sudden emptiness that only he could fulfill.
The hand wrapped around your front released your chin and slid down to your chest as it continued to hold you upright against the bed's edge. You barely had a moment to recover before the fingers that were once inside of you pressed against your parted lips, slipping easily between them. 
“Go on,” he murmured, his voice molten, “Taste yourself.”
Obedience came naturally and your tongue swirled around his inked digits, savoring the slick digits. The wet, intimate taste of yourself had a strange, intoxicating effect on you, and it only deepened the ache pooling low in your stomach. 
“Good girl,” Law rasped, his voice rough with satisfaction. Slowly, he slid his fingers free, the spit-covered digits gleaming as he held them up briefly before wiping them on your inner thigh.
Before you could catch your breath, you felt the shift of his body, his chest brushing against yours as he adjusted himself between your trembling legs. His hand released your chest in favor of holding your hip, causing you to fall forward and meet the bed once again. The blunt, swollen head of his cock pressed against your entrance, and you let out a broken whimper. You squirmed as he barely nudged into your spent hole, a maddening pressure that made your body tighten in response. He barely entered, just the tip, yet it was enough to make you burn. 
The chuckle Law let out was almost taunting as he watched you writhe beneath him. “Sensitive, are we?” he purred, one hand gripping you in place while the other snaked around your front, finding your swollen clit with infuriating accuracy. The teasing circles sent a violent shudder through you, ripping a cry from you as you lunged forward, your overstimulated nerves screaming for mercy.
“Please,” you choked out, your voice a trembling whisper as you squirmed beneath him, desperate and undone. 
But Law wasn’t having it. In one swift motion, he flipped you onto your back, his hand moving to hold you down against the mattress. You yelped at the sudden shift, your heart racing and your body entirely exposed to him. 
You heard Law fumble around for a moment, grumbling something you couldn't quite make out. Then, you felt the ribbon around your head loosen, the blindfold slipping away. Light flooded your vision, and you blinked, adjusting to the sudden clarity. 
And there he was. Law’s bare form hovered over you, his tattooed body a masterpiece of sharp lines and ink. His cock stood proud, the flushed tip glistening, the sight alone enough to leave you breathless.
He held the ribbon in his hands and without a word, he brought it to his mouth, his teeth tearing through the fabric with ease. The action was primal and it made your clit throb with a renewed want.
The torn ribbon was repurposed with cruel efficiency, binding your ankles to the bedposts. He wrapped the silk tight enough to keep you spread wide, and by the time he was done, you were fully exposed and utterly at his mercy, your wrists trapped beneath you and your legs held firmly apart.
Law sat back back for a moment, his eyes roaming over your bound form. His gaze was heavy, dark with amusement and possessive hunger, and when his lips quirked into a smirk, it was laced with pure sin. 
“Perfect,” he murmured, the single word both a promise and an assessment. 
He shifted closer, hovering over you, his breath mingling with yours as he positioned himself between your trembling legs. You could feel his cock resting against your slick folds, teasing and gliding and sending jolts of electricity through your hypersensitive body. 
The first nudge of his tip had you squirming, lips parting to cry out, but his lips met yours, swallowing any noises that threatened to come out with a deep, consuming kiss. And slowly, he pushed in, the stretch an intoxicating burn that stole the air from your lungs. 
Your muffled cry mixed with a groan of his as he buried himself inside of you. The pressure was overwhelming, but it only fueled your desire, the pleasure teetering on the edge of pain in the most exquisite way.
Law’s hand hooked under your thigh, lifting it slightly to deepen the angle. And then he began to move. His pace was merciless, each thrust hard as he drove his cock into you with brutal precision. The sound of skin against skin filled the air, mixing with your shared sounds of pleasure and the wet, obscene noises of your body taking him. 
“Please… can’t…” you whimpered, your voice trembling as your fingers clawed helplessly at the sheets beneath you. 
Law leaned his head down to the side of your face, lips grazing the shell of your ear as he growled, “You can take it, I know you can.” The heat of his words settled deep inside of you as he continued, “Be a good girl and take it for me, will you?”
You didn’t quite hear his words through the chaos that is your mind, but a warbled sound resembling a response spilled past your lips. His other hand slid around your waist, pulling you against him as he drove deeper, harder, his cock hitting spots that made stars burst in your eyes, quickly hurtling towards the edge for the second time that night. 
Your body became a live wire, every muscle wound impossibly tight as the tension spiraled to an unbearable peak. Your thighs quivered in Law’s grip, toes curling as the pleasure spread outward, consuming your entire being. 
Your breath came in ragged gasps, each exhale trembling with the sensations threatening to take over. His cock hit that devastatingly perfect spot over and over as he unraveled you. You felt your walls clench tightly around him, the twitches and spasms of your body pulling him deeper, holding him in place as though you could keep him tethered to you. 
The pressure finally exploded, and you shattered. Every muscle in your body seized as your stomach tightened, your back arching off the bed as you were completely overtaken by the intensity of your orgasm. 
Your fingers clawed at the sheets, knuckles white as your body trembled beneath him. Your thighs pressed futilely against his hips in a desperate attempt to steady yourself against the overwhelming pleasure. 
“Fuck,” Law groaned, his voice thick and strained as you clenched around him, somehow pulling him deeper. He held you in place as he worked you through it, his thrusts steady but slower now as he prolonged the euphoric aftershocks that racked your body.
You gasped his name, your voice shaking as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes from the sheer feelings of everything. And as the peaks began to subside, your muscles were left weak and your body pliant beneath him. 
Law followed soon after, his movements growing uncoordinated as his thrusts turned into a desperate rhythm as he chased his own release. You whimpered with every thrust as your spent hole was fucked into for moments longer. The tension in his body was visible, the flexing of his muscles as he held you tightly in place a beautiful sight above you.
His breath hitched and he sharply inhaled as his hips snapped forward one final time, burying himself to the hilt. His body stilled, a low moan escaping his lips as his climax overtook him. His voice was raw with pleasure as his cock pulsed, releasing ropes of his spend with each throb. His fingers dug into you, holding you against him as his chest heaved, his body trembling from the aftermath. 
For a moment, the room was filled with nothing but the sounds of your shared heavy, uneven breaths as you both came down from the high. Then slowly, his grip softened, his hands now moving with a gentleness as they roamed over your skin. 
Law eased himself from you with painstaking care, pausing to press a kiss to your forehead, his lips warm. “Are you okay?” he murmured against your skin, pulling back to stare at your flushed features. 
You whined out something incoherent, pairing it with a nod, and Law chuckled in response, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips as he moved to untie you. He removed the ribbon from your ankles first, the silk falling away under his careful touch. He rubbed soothing circles into the tender spots where the fabric pressed into your skin, his thumbs working over each mark with tenderness. “Does this hurt?” he asked, his eyes scanning you for any signs of discomfort. 
When you shook your head, he smiled. He kissed each of the spots where the ribbons had left faint impressions, murmuring quiet apologies for any marks they might have left behind. 
Next, he turned his attention to your wrists and your chest, carefully unbinding the silk that had once held you as he proceeded to the muscles to soothe any lingering tension. “You did so good for me,” he praised, voice filled with admiration.
He shifted, laying next to you and pulling your sweat-slicked body into his. Neither of you moved much, save for the delicate caresses against your sides paired with kisses on every exposed surface his lips could reach. 
You both knew the next step would be to grab a towel or shower, making some sort of effort to clean up, but you silently agreed that this moment was one that you wanted to prolong. Sweet nothings and murmured praises filled the air, melting into a lazy conversation. 
“This was such an amazing gift,” Law said, looking at you with a pleased expression. “I wonder how I could possibly ever top that.”
And you giggled, your voice light and airy as you gazed up at him with a playful grin. “I might have some ideas…”
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