#strip that beast immediately

[powersnuffgirls]

absolutely atrocious... there's no need for this... </3

[mint-yooxgi]

Kinktober Day 7 - Yandere!Fae King!Seonghwa + Queen & Praise

@stopaskinf Said: Yandere royal fae seonghwa with Queen and praise 🫶 A/n: I kinda went wild with this one.... whoops lmfaoooooo but in my defence, Hwa is one of my muses and this could have been even longer still... It did become longer lmaooo, I added more even after I originally finished this prompt cause I couldn't stop thinking about it. It's intense, but in a good way. All I'm gonna say is: Yan!Fae King!Hwa is a BEAST 🤭 Warnings/Genre/Rating: 18+ MDNI - Smut, Mature, Established Relationship, Yandere, Possession, Monster Features, Minor Angst to start, Squirting, Oral (fem. rec)... There's a lot :) Word Count: 7,004 Kinktober 2024 Mini Masterlist

“My Queen,” A pleased hum escapes honeyed lips. “I’m so glad that you could join me.”

His eyes are sharp as they watch your every movement at the edge of the sacred pool. The crystalline water is as still as stone, even as a gentle breeze drifts through the surrounding forest. Behind him, a soft waterfall feeds into the spring, flowing from the surrounding cliff face.

Seonghwa’s long, wet hair is pushed away from his face, silver droplets of water beading against his skin. Dark eyes glint with affection as he meets your gaze, gently treading the water and awaiting for you to submerge yourself inside of the sacred pool with him. A ritual which he has waited far too long to complete with you at his side.

Cautiously, you dip a toe into the water. 

While Seonghwa has already stripped himself of any offending materials that would hide him from you, the only thing bare about you seems to be your feet. However, the moment your skin breaches the surface, you seem to grimace, retracting your foot and taking a small step backwards.

Seonghwa frowns, his head tilting slightly in concern.

“Why do you hesitate, My Beauty?” The slow trickle of water sliding off of his skin cascades into the pool below as he stands to his full height. The smooths planes of his chest are on full display, the depth of the pool just covering him below the waist as he slowly begins to make his way towards you. “Do you not wish to join me?”

“I do!” Your words come out a little rushed, eyes going wide. “I just-“

The way your voice seems to catch in your throat, whole body deflating as you sigh has his frown deepening.

“Is something the matter?” By now, he’s reached the edge of the pool. Tilting his head up, his dark eyes meet your own once again. Nothing but concern resides within. The way you seem to shrink further in on yourself the closer he gets only serves to make his heart ache.

Something is wrong, and he will do everything in his power to find out what.

Standing on that little ledge, you avoid his gaze. Your hands wring themselves together in front of your body, shuffling from foot to foot. Blinking, you exhale a soft sigh through your nose.

“Seonghwa,” Briefly, your eyes dart to his own before averting them to the side once more. “Why are we doing this?”

Your question catches him completely off guard. “What do you mean, My Love?”

You hesitate, pursing your lips.

“I mean,” You let out another soft sigh, turning your head to the side. “Why me?”

Seonghwa blinks. “Why not you, My Love?”

Again, you seem to fidget in your spot, refusing to meet his gaze. The way you remain silent sparks a memory inside of his mind. He’s only ever seen you act like this twice before, and each time resulted in him gladly lathering his hands in the blood of those vile creatures that sought to deceive you.

“Who told you more lies about yourself?” Seonghwa sees red, lips curling over fangs in a snarl.

Your eyes go wide, finally turning to meet his sharp gaze. “No one told me-“

“Who?” His voice booms out across the forest, a flock of birds taking off in the distance.

You flinch back, breath catching in your throat.

Immediately, his expression softens, features losing the intense shadows that have fallen across his face.

“I deeply apologize, My Love.” He reaches out gently for you, taking your hand into his own. “I did not mean to frighten you.”

You shake your head, your lower lip beginning to wobble as tears line your vision.

Painfully, Seonghwa’s heart squeezes in his chest. The very last thing he ever wants to do is make you fear him. He is meant to protect you. To hold your heart in his hands just as you hold his in your own. There is nothing that he wouldn’t do for you, and the last thing he ever wants is to make you upset.

“My Love, please do not cry.” With ease, he pushes himself out of the pool and onto the ledge you’re standing on. Water drips onto the earth as his arms surround you, your legs soon giving out as you both sink to the ground. “I would never forgive myself if I ever hurt you. The mere thought of anyone feeding you filth about yourself makes me want to tear apart their very souls.”

“I know, Seonghwa,” you hiccup lightly, wiping at your eyes. “I just-“

Your breath catches once more, and he brings a hand up to cup the side of your face. Gently, he guides your gaze to his, wiping at your tears as he waits for you to collect your thoughts.

“I still don’t understand why you could ever want me.” Your words are but a mere whisper on your lips, but it’s as if they are a loud siren ringing inside of his head. “I’m not like you. I’m not menacing, or powerful. Hell, I’m not even that pretty. I’m only human, and yet you want me? I don’t know why you’ve always been so adamant about me. I’m not anything special.”

The way you avert your gaze as you speak those final words has his heart aching inside of his chest.

Gently, he pulls you in closer, thumb brushing tenderly over your cheek.

“My Love, will you please look at me?” Seonghwa keeps his tone soft, eyes flitting over every inch of your features as he studies you before him.

Cautiously, you flick your gaze over to his own.

“Would I ever lie to you?”

You blink, brow furrowing lightly as you sniffle. “You can’t lie.”

“My point exactly. I cannot lie. Nor would I ever want to when it comes to you.” He replies earnestly, staring deeply into your eyes. “Every moment you have spent with me, I feel as if I have been reborn anew. I could get lost in the way your mind stimulates my own. You aren’t afraid to tell me off when I’m being a ‘nincompoop’,” you chuckle at that, “and I could never get mad at you for that. You are the one person I could listen to without question. The one person who has touched my very soul. No one else can say that. You are my choice, and I would never choose otherwise. To me, you are perfect. Flaws you believe you have are simply what makes you, you.”

Your expression softens, a fresh onset of tears lining your eyes.

“I will never let anyone fill your mind with such poisonous thoughts. There is nothing I am not willing to do for you. If anyone so much as questions you, or doubts my choice, then I will not hesitate to dispose of them in the most brutal ways I know how.” Both of his hands are now cupping the sides of your face, forehead coming to rest upon your own. “So what if you are a human? You are still braver, stronger, more intelligent, and unbelievably more incredible than half of the fae that live under us. Not to mention how you’re the most stunningly beautiful woman I know.”

“There is no one else in this world that I would rather have as my queen other than you.” He tilts his head forward slightly, brushing his nose against your own. “Whether still human or soon to be fae, you will always and forever be My Queen. My one and only queen. The only one I will ever want. The only one I will ever need. I love you. I love you, and nothing - no one - will ever change that.”

Your breath catches in your throat, swallowing thickly as his words wash over you. The sincerity alone that you can see shining within his dark gaze says it all, and you cannot help the way your heart positively flutters.

“Seonghwa,” The call of his name is but a tender whisper upon your lips. “I love you, too.”

The curl of his lips upwards is nothing but loving as he brushes his thumbs over your cheeks. A moment later, and he closes the distance between the two of you, kissing you softly. The way your hand comes up to cup his own cheek has him humming against you, pulling you in closer.

“Now,” He mumbles out, flicking his tongue teasingly over your bottom lip. “Will you join me, My Queen?”

You pull away, wiping the tears that linger from your face. A soft smile rests on your lips as you trace your hand down his neck and lightly over his chest. “With pleasure, My King.”

The way he shivers beneath your touch says it all.

Leaning in to place one final kiss to your cheek, Seonghwa slides back into the sacred pool. His eyes never leave your figure as you stand back to your feet, gaze hooding over as he sees you reach for the hem of your shirt.

He licks his lips, cock twitching in anticipation.

Long since has he desired you. Long since has he wished for this day, and now that it is finally here, he plans on taking his time with you. No longer shall you doubt his affections for you. No longer will you question your beauty. Once he’s done with you, you will be his, and he will finally be yours.

“My Beauty,” he hums, noticing the way you seem to still hesitate to remove your clothing. “Never be afraid to reveal yourself to me. There is not a part you that is unloved by me.”

Subtly, your hands tighten over your shirt. A movement his eager eyes catch in the sunlight that filters through the surrounding trees. Seonghwa cannot help the way his breathing deepens, hands lightly skimming the water surrounding him in attempts to release some of the tension from his body. It’s taking everything within himself right now not to jump you, to tear your clothes from your flesh and ravage you like he’s long since desired.

His jaw clenches, cock twitching once more.

The slight hitch in his breath is audible even to you as you finally remove the material of your shirt. The way he’s staring at you, eyes dark and predatory, his chest heaving with every breath through his parted lips, makes you shiver. You cannot help the way you swallow thickly, shifting to cover your arms over your body.

A low growl escapes him, those same shadows falling over his features as he tilts his head the slightest bit forward. “Don’t you dare hide yourself from me, My Queen. I want to see every delectable inch of you.” 

A deep rumble fills the air. A tone you’ve never heard him use before with you. It makes you shiver, heart stuttering excitedly in your chest. You can feel your whole body heating as he continues to stare at you with such a ravenous hunger held within his gaze.

Slowly, you lower your arms.

“That’s it,” He purrs, sinking back beneath the water so that only his head is visible. “Do you have any idea how perfect you are?”

You swallow the sudden dryness in your throat, tongue darting out to wet your lips. “If you say so, then it must be true.”

“My Queen,” A devilish grin stretches across his features, eyes glinting as your fingers slip beneath the waistband of your pants. “Would I ever lie to you?”

The soft upturn of your lips as you shake your head says it all.

Seonghwa’s grin stretches wider across his face, tongue flicking over the bottom of his fangs. Carefully, he kneels on the bottom of the pool, cock throbbing beneath the water. With every inch of your bare skin that you expose, his hands twitch, body beginning to shake in need. The longer he goes without touching you, without feeling your body pressed against his own, the closer his sanity gets to snapping.

The moment your pants drop, the material pooling around your ankles, a curse in the old tongue escapes him. He tosses his head back, eyes fluttering closed briefly as he takes a deep breath in in an attempt to steady himself.

His hand settles over his cock.

“My Queen,” The title is but a moan against his lips. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

Slowly, he begins stroking himself, cock twitching in his grip. His eyes never leave your figure for one second, not wanting to miss a single movement of your body. Your bare skin beckons him, begging for him to touch, and cover you in his marks.

The small, bashful smile he can see playing at your lips has him squeezing his hand firmly around the base of his cock.

“Fuck- you’re so beautiful,” He pants, leaning back slightly in the water to admire you. “Just the sight of you alone makes me want to come undone. You make me so unbelievably hard, My Love.”

A soft giggle fills the air, setting his heart racing. He cannot prevent the low groan from escaping his throat as he sees you step in closer to the edge of the pool. The way your one hand comes up to slip a finger teasingly beneath the band of your bra makes his head spin.

“I cannot wait to have my hands all over you,” He sighs, eyes nearly fluttering at the mere thought as he slowly strokes over his cock. “I promise to show you a pleasure unimaginable, My Love.”

“You please me just by being you, you nincompoop.” You grin, toeing the edge of the pool.

“There she is.” A pleased laugh escapes him, his eyes crinkling at the sides. “There’s the queen I know and love.”

Slowly, you lower yourself onto the ledge, dipping your feet into the water. Your hands rest beside you on the rocks to steady you, glancing up to see Seonghwa stalking towards you.

The moment you submerge even just a part of yourself into the sacred pool, it’s as if the water becomes crystal clear. Your breath hitches as you catch sight of his hard cock practically throbbing between his legs, the tip an angry red.

“The feeling is very much mutual, My Queen,” He purrs, sliding his hands teasingly up the back of your calves. Extending his claws, he lets them dance along your skin before his fingers are hooking beneath your knees. A blink, and he pulls you flush against him, wrapping your legs around his waist as he rests his forehead against your own. “Your mere existence in my life is the most wondrous thing I have ever had the pleasure to experience.”

Your breath hitches in your throat, hands immediately finding purchase on his shoulders. His eyes seem to flash at your touch, shivering beneath your hold as you trail your fingers up his neck. Delicately, you cup his face, your breathing deepening as anticipation claws at your stomach.

A shiver caresses your spine as you feel him slide the claws of his one hand delicately up your side. Teasingly, he slips a finger beneath the band of your bra.

Seonghwa looks down briefly before darting his gaze back to your own. “May I?”

You nod, already feeling breathless just from such a simple touch. “You may.”

Without wasting a single moment, Seonghwa snaps the band of your bra. You barely even register how quickly he tears the offensive material off of your skin, the movements too quick for your eyes to follow.

A low, appreciative moan escapes him as his hands come up to cup your breasts.

“Fuck- you have such pretty tits, My Love.” He squeezes your flesh appreciatively, and you can feel the way his cock twitches against your core. Humming contently, he pushes them together, burying his face in your breasts and inhaling deeply. “You smell incredible.”

A pleasant shiver caresses your spine, hand coming up to thread lightly through his hair. A small smile toys at your lips, pushing your chest further into him as he nuzzles against you.

“All for you, My King.” You sigh, your eyelashes fluttering in bliss.

The low, rumbling growl that shakes his chest can be felt against your own. His dark eyes glance upwards to meet your own as his fangs flash.

“Mine.” He snarls, sinking his teeth into the swell of your breast, directly over your heart.

A loud moan escapes you, arching immediately into his touch. Your fingers tighten in his hair, tugging gently at the stands as you feel him growling against your skin. Your legs tighten around his waist as you feel him pull his head back only to begin laving his tongue over the fresh bite in the next second.

“Mmmh,” he hums, nuzzling your breast affectionately with his nose. “I can never get enough of you.”

Gently, his tongue flicks over the wound, staunching the bleeding with his magic. Tenderly, he admires you, thumbs beginning to circle over your nipples as his eyes hood over. Again, he squeezes your breasts, lips parting at the feel of them in his hands.

Rolling your hips against his own, you decide that two can play at this game.

The groan he lets out is music to your ears.

Finally, you release the hold you have on his hair, dragging your nails down the front of his chest. The way you feel him shiver beneath your touch has your lips twitching upwards smugly. Only, that smirk is immediately wiped off of your features as you feel him steal your lips with his own.

The kiss is desperate, his tongue delving into your mouth and needing to feel your own. His hips roll into your own, creating a steady pace as his one hand slips behind your back.

He pulls you closer, claws pricking against your skin.

“Do you have-“ he parts from you only briefly, “any idea-“ his fangs nip your bottom lip, “how long I’ve waited for this moment?”

His lips are back on yours, kissing you like you are the very air he needs to breathe. Slowly, steadily, he begins leaning you back over the rocks you rest upon, hovering over you as he greedily swallows all of your sounds.

“Long since-“ he pants, beginning to kiss down along your jaw, “have I dreamt-“ he nips at the skin of your neck, grinding himself against you once more, “of claiming you as my own.”

A loud whine of his name escapes you as you keen beneath his touch.

“That’s it, My Queen,” He hums, tracing his hands lovingly over your sides as he begins to kiss down your body. “Tell everyone who you belong to. Tell the universe who your eternal servant is. Cry out my name as I finally make you mine.”

You arch into his touch, eyes squeezing shut as you moan. His lips ignite a fire beneath your skin, tracing a path over the swells of your breasts until he wraps his lips around one of your nipples. Gently, he begins to suck on that pert little bud, his fangs teasingly scraping against the sensitive skin.

His cock throbs as you writhe beneath his touch, chest rumbling in contentment. His dark gaze watches your every movement, eyes locked on your every expression as he releases your one nipple with a wet pop. No time is wasted before he’s laving his tongue across your skin, eagerly moving to suck your other nipple into his mouth.

He hums, flicking his tongue over the pert bud.

Your hand returns to his hair, pulling him in closer against you as your hips shift against his own. You can feel your heart racing in your chest, and from the way you feel him smile against your skin, you can just tell that he can hear how it beats for him.

“My Seonghwa,” Your voice is but a pleased, airy hum. “My King.”

A snarl unlike anything you’ve ever heard before escapes him.

“That’s right, My Queen,” He places a final kiss to your nipple, grinning widely against your skin. “I am yours. I will always and forever only be yours.”

You practically purr down at him, eyes hooded in pleasure. “Mine.”

Seonghwa’s hips jerk against you, a shameless moan falling from his lips. His breathing deepens, low growls escaping him with every exhale as he continues to make his way down your body. His claws gently scrape against your skin, biting and sucking his marks into you as he slowly settles between your legs.

“I belong to you, My Queen.” The intensity of his dark gaze takes your breath away. “I always have, and I always will.”

Tenderly, he places a kiss directly over your clothed clit, humming as his eyes flutter in bliss. His fingertips trace up your thighs, admiring every inch of skin presented to him, and loving how you feel pressed against him. 

Turning his head, he begins to nibble at your inner thigh. Kisses are placed meticulously over such sensitive skin, tongue coming out to flick over each new mark he gives you. His touch is gentle as he settles your thighs over his shoulders, nuzzling closer and closer to your core as he slips his hands beneath your ass.

His eyes fall shut, inhaling deeply. A shudder wracks his entire body, lips parting as he begins to pant once more.

“Your scent is intoxicating, My Love.” A gentle confession as he noses along your clothed slit. His tongue darts out to flick against your panties, and he moans, whole body shaking in need. Not even a moment later, his eyes are flashing open, a desperation you’ve never seen before shining within. “Let me devour you.”

With those words, he shreds through your panties, burying his face between your legs.

The most guttural groan escapes him as he drags his tongue through your folds, the taste of you making his head spin. His grip tightens on your ass, claws pricking into your skin as he pulls you in closer to him. Lips press against your clit, kissing it gently before suckling eagerly at your precious little bud.

His hot breaths can be felt against your cunt as he rubs himself into you, his eyes fluttering with every drop of you he can taste on his tongue. For far too long he’s waited for this moment, and now that it’s here, he plans on savouring it. Not one part of you will go untouched - unloved - by him tonight, and as the sun arcs high across the sky, he knows that he has all the time in the world.

After all, he’s only just begun.

Slipping his hand from your ass, he guides his fingers up to part your folds. Eagerly, he thrusts his tongue into you as he opens you completely to him, his nose pressing firmly against your clit. He moans into you, swirling his tongue before he’s curling the muscle, flicking the tip against you as he presses in as deep as he can.

His eyes roll to the back of his head at the feeling of your thighs beginning to tremble around his head. His nose slides over your clit as he drinks from you, desperately suckling every drop that pours from you and begins to drip down his chin.

Whimpers and whines of his name fall shamelessly from your lips, hand returning to tangle your fingers in his hair. The way you pull him in closer only causes him to let out a pleased snarl against your cunt. The feeling makes your whole body tremble, moans beginning to rise in pitch as he brings his lips back up to suckle on your clit.

Shaking his head back and forth a few times, Seonghwa begins to flick the tip of his tongue over your clit. The hand he has gripping your ass squeezes your flesh appreciatively once more, tugging you even closer to the edge of the pool. Carefully, he slides his touch along the underside of your thigh, slowly lifting his fingers from you to sneak them beneath the water.

A moan reverberates against you as he wraps his hand around his cock, stroking himself in time with his movements over your cunt. His chest heaves as he squeezes the base of his cock. He's already so close to tipping over the edge from your blissful cries, to the way your thighs threaten to close around his head at any moment. The way you feel dripping down his chin, your sweet nectar bathing his tongue as your scent begins to cover him has his cock twitching, his own body beginning to shake.

You can feel a tight pressure building within your abdomen, your walls beginning to rhythmically clench around nothing as your thighs tense. Your hips begin shifting over his lips, grinding against his face in time with his movements over you.

“Fuck- My King! Right there-“ A broken cry escapes you, eyes squeezing shut as he continues to desperately suck your clit between his lips. “You’re gonna make me-“

A loud whine escapes you, moans falling in succession as you tumble right over the edge. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, whole body shaking as your back arches from the intensity of your orgasm. Desperately, your hands cling to his hair, fingers buried in his locks as you hold him to you.

A feral snarl greets your ears.

Without wasting a second, Seonghwa slips his tongue back down to your entrance. Only, this time, as he pushes the soft muscle into you, it doesn’t stop.

A scream of his name tears from your throat as you feel his tongue growing inside of you. The muscle thickens, the tip eagerly stroking along your sensitive walls as you come, your whole body shaking uncontrollably.

A stuttering moan escapes him, his eyes rolling as he buries his tongue within you. Finally, he no longer has to hold himself back, each exhale but a low growl as he feels your walls spasming around him. With every pulse of your warmth, every flutter of your cunt over him, his tongue grows, pushing deeper within you and filling you to the brim.

He jerks in his hand, deep, guttural moans reverberating against your cunt as he comes with you. The feeling of you surrounding him, of you crying out for him and him alone sends him right over the edge. His whole body shakes, heart close to bursting from how much love and desire floods his veins for you in this very moment.

Only now, he can never get enough.

“Oh… my fucking god!” You can barely prevent your eyes from rolling, that familiar pressure within your abdomen feeling as if it hasn’t receded in the slightest.

Whimpers and moans continue to fall from your lips, harmonizing along with his pleased growls as he massages the tip of his tongue against your inner walls. He seems to be drawing a pattern against your innermost sensitive spot, your breath stuttering with every press against you. You can feel yourself dangerously close to the edge once more, chest heaving as you attempt to catch your breath.

The moment he presses his thumb over your clit, circling that swollen little nub as his tongue continues to work inside of you, you scream. Your orgasm crashes into you, vision going white as you squirt all over his face. Your grip is like a vice, clinging to him as a lifeline as your whole body shakes in ecstasy.

The snarl that tears from his throat is nothing short of feral as he feels you flood his tongue. His whole body trembles alongside your own, the intensity and meaning of this moment washing over him as he finishes spelling his name in the old tongue deep within your cunt. He can feel his cock throbbing between his legs once more as he guides you through your high, each whimper and whine you give him causing an insurmountable sense of pride to swell within his chest.

Gently, he continues to circle your clit with his thumb as he begins to slowly retract his tongue. The way your breath stutters, high pitched moans still escaping you with every minuscule movement over your cunt causes the corners of his lips to twitch upwards. His hands are soon back on your thighs, lightly stroking his fingers over your skin to help ground you as you come back down to this moment here in time with him.

Finally, his tongue slides out of you.

“You don’t know-“ he breathes out, voice ragged as his chest heaves, “how fucking sexy that was.” His dark eyes flick to your own, laving his tongue teasingly over your cunt. “I want to make you do that again.” He flicks the tip of his tongue over your clit, loving how your whole body twitches in response. “I will make you do that again.”

“Seonghwa…” his name is but a breathless whine upon your lips.

“You’re so beautiful, My Queen, especially when you come for me.” He hums, continuing to clean you with his tongue. Not a single drop is meant to go to waste, and he makes sure of that. “You did so well for me.”

A pleased sigh falls from his lips as his eyes flutter shut, savouring this moment with you. He tilts his head to the side, gently resting against your thigh for the moment as his hands continue to rub tenderly against your skin.

Turning slightly, he places a soft kiss to your inner thigh. “Are you ready to become one with me, My Queen?”

The way he looks up at you through his lashes says it all. Nothing but tender love and devotion is held within his gaze, amongst something much darker. Something primal that sets your heart racing, yet still makes you feel safe and secure held within his arms.

A tender smile pulls at loving lips.

“I would love nothing more, My King.”

Seonghwa wastes no time in wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his embrace. Gently, he submerges the both of you beneath the sacred pool, nothing but your heads kept above the water. His grip is firm, one hand squeezing your ass while the other supports your back. The feeling of you wrapping your legs around his waist has his cock twitching against your core, a low, pleased growl escaping him.

Slowly, he turns toward the waterfall.

“I love you,” His hand comes up to tenderly cup your cheek, brushing his thumb over your skin.

You smile, mirroring his actions. “I love you.”

Leaning forward, Seonghwa presses his lips to yours. His movements are slow, wanting to savour this moment, as well as the feeling of you in his arms. The way your bare skin feels pressing right up against his own is making his head spin, anticipation clawing at his stomach.

Pulling away, he rests his forehead against your own.

A soft gasp escapes him as he feels you reach down between your bodies, grasping his cock in your hand. His eyes flutter as you begin stroking him slowly, squeezing your hand over the head of his cock a few times before circling over it with your fist.

Lining him up with your entrance, you make sure you’re staring deeply into his eyes. Teasingly, you drag the tip of his cock through your folds, moaning lowly as you bump the head against your clit a few times.

His breathing deepens, eyes the darkest shade of brown you’ve ever seen as he stares intently at you. He doesn’t want to miss a single movement, a single expression you’re giving him as he prepares for the moment he’s been anticipating since he first laid eyes upon you.

“Become one with me, My King.” You breathe out, pushing just the tip of him against your entrance.

His heart soars, nothing but warmth and love flooding his veins.

“With pleasure, My Queen.” A low growl escapes him, tilting his head to rest his forehead against your own.

A soft gasp escapes you as you feel him beginning to push into you. The head of his cock parts your fold briefly before he’s pulling his hips back slightly only to roll them forward. With each movement, he sinks deeper and deeper inside of you, his hands squeezing your ass. You can feel his claws pricking at your skin, your arms settling around his shoulders to pull him in closer.

“You feel incredible around me.” He moans, chest heaving as he attempts to maintain some form of control over himself. “So fucking soft… and warm.”

A pleased hum escapes you, nudging his nose with your own as his eyes flutter. The way you can feel him practically pulsing within you as he bottoms out has your lips parting in a moan.

“Feel so full with you inside me.” You hum, fingers threading through the hair on the nape of his neck. “Like you were made for me.”

His hips jerk at your words, a devious smirk tugging at his lips. 

“I was.” His grip tightens on your ass, his hips rolling up into yours. “I was made for you, My Queen. To love you. To cherish you… To please you.”

Again, he rocks himself into you, grinding his hips against you as he presses you firmly against himself.

Your eyes flutter shut, lips parting in another moan.

For a moment, he admires you. Nothing but love and adoration can be seen in his eyes as he reaches up to trace a finger over the side of your cheek.

“Do you trust me?”

You blink, not even having to think about your answer as you smile so tenderly at him. “With my life.”

The moment those words escape you, his lips are on your own. His hands tighten over you, pulling you flush against himself as he kisses you desperately. The way your legs tighten around his waist only makes his chest rumble in content, tongue parting your lips and eagerly swallowing your every sound.

Slowly, carefully, he begins walking towards the waterfall.

You cling to him as he moves, leaning in to trace your lips over his skin. Teasingly, you nip at his jaw, flicking your tongue over his pulse and hearing how he moans in response. His breathing deepens as you clench around him, his cock throbbing deep inside of you.

Pausing just before the waterfall, Seonghwa meets your gaze.

“My Queen.” He growls out, eyes flashing as shadows fall over his face. “For all eternity.”

With those words, he submerges you both beneath the flow of water.

The sensation only lasts a few second, for he doesn’t stop there. You grip him tighter, expecting to feel the cool sensation of stone pressing into your back at any moment. Only, the feeling of being laid atop of something plush and soft has you blinking your eyes open in mild surprise.

“From now, until the end of the known universe,” Seonghwa’s soft voice reaches your ears, his hand reaching out to trace gently over the side of your face as he stares down at you so tenderly. “This place shall always be ours.”

Your breath catches slightly, taking in the sight of a small cave hidden behind the waterfall. Blue and white crystals glow softly, illuminating the interior of the space. You seem to be resting on a large bed of moss, various flowers of your favourite varieties littering the floor.

Nothing but tender love and affection can be seen in your gaze as you stare up at the Fae before you. A look which is mirrored in his own eyes.

“Just lay back and relax, My Queen,” He smiles down at you, standing tall. His hands slip down beneath your knees, pushing your legs up gently. “Let me take care of you.”

Softly, he rolls his hips into yours, fingers digging lightly into your skin. His tongue comes out to wet his lips, some strands of his wet hair falling over his eyes and framing his face.

A soft hum escapes you, purposely clenching around him as you admire every bare inch of his exposed skin. You can see the tips of his pointed ears peeking out from his dark locks, his dark eyes locked on your figure. The muscles in his abdomen tense, and you can feel him twitch deep inside of you as he rolls his hips into your own once more.

His fingers tighten on the backs of your thighs as his eyes flash. Not even a moment later, he’s pulling almost all of the way out of you only to thrust back into you sharply.

Lowly, you moan, eyes rolling slightly as you clench around him.

The corners of his lips quirk upwards as another sharp thrust is made.

“Fuck- Look at how beautiful you are, My Queen.” He moans, hooded gaze taking in the way your whole body shakes with each calculated thrust he gives into you. “You take me so well; I never wish to be parted from you again.”

His pace is slow, making sure to bury himself deeply within you with each sharp thrust he makes. Seonghwa is sure to watch your every reaction carefully before he’s trailing his gaze down your body. His lips part as he watches his cock sink into you with each thrust, eyes fixated on the way your delicate warmth sucks him in.

A loud moan escapes you as he rolls his hips into yours after a particularly sharp thrust. Almost instinctually, you reach out for him, only for him to meet you halfway.

In an instant, your hands are pinned beside your head, fingers intertwined with his own. His looming figure towers over yours pinned beneath him, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he grinds himself into you. The way your whimper catches in your throat has a devious, and a little unhinged, grin pulling at his features.

“I’m going to fill you so full of me, you’ll always feel the impression of my cock buried deep within this tight little pussy of yours.” A deep rasp is all that escapes him, setting a steady pace as he thrusts into you. “Gonna fuck you so full of my love you’ll never question me again.”

A choked gasp of his name escapes your lips, ending on a whine as he snaps his hips against your own. Immediately, you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him in closer as you squeeze his hands.

He squeezes back.

A wicked grin stretches across his features as he sets a brutal pace, fangs glinting in the light of the cave. The way your body bounces with each thrust into you makes his head spin, eyes eagerly drinking in every expression you make.

Countless moans and low curses fall from your lips. Your eyes are squeezed shut, head tossed back onto the earth as you feel him hitting that special spot deep within you with every thrust. You can feel that all too familiar pressure building within, and you gladly give yourself over to the feeling.

“You’re the most breathtaking sight I’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing.” He growls, leaning in to lick up the side of your neck. “I could never get tired of such an earth shattering beauty beneath me.”

“Seonghwa-“ Your breath catches, a long moan escaping you as you arch into his touch.

“Come for me.” His voice is but a snarling command, desperate as he meets your gaze. “Come for me, My Queen. Let me feel you claiming this cock as I claim you.”

Seonghwa releases his hold on your one hand in order to slip his between your bodies. His thumb finds your clit, circling that little swollen nub as he pounds into you. Nothing but rumbling growls escape him with every exhale, begging you to fall apart for him as he pleases you with everything he is.

With one final flick over your clit, you scream his name.

The fingers you have still intertwined with his own cling to his hand as a life line. Your back arches from the earth, whole body shaking violently as your orgasm washes over you. High pitched whines and whimpers escape you, chanting his name like a mantra as you squeeze around him, thighs trembling as you hold him to you.

The moment he feels you clenching around him, his cock twitches. Seeing you come undone beneath him like this sends him right over the edge, and with one final thrust, he’s burying himself deep within you.

A loud moan of your name escapes him, chanting your title like a prayer as spurt after spurt of come escapes him. The way he can feel your combined releases leaking out of you and dripping onto his balls makes his head spin, his thumb still circling languidly over your clit.

He needs to make sure he’s providing nothing but the utmost pleasure to you that you can conceive of. He needs to see you falling apart again, and again, and again.

After all, His Queen deserves nothing but the best from Her King.

Slowly, you begin to calm down. You chest heaves, thighs still twitching as you feel him finally still his thumb over your clit. The way he presses his finger against that swollen little nub causes you to clench, whining from the pressure.

A deep chuckle reverberates from within his chest, his lips pressing softly against your own. Finally, he removes his thumb from over your clit, bringing his hand up to gently trace his fingers over your ear.

Your now very pointed ear.

“My Queen,” He hums, a pleased rumble shaking his whole being as he sees the faintest flash of fangs behind your parted lips.

You open your eyes, meeting his own dark gaze with a newfound intensity swirling deep within your own.

“Welcome home.”

[allgirlsareprincesses]

Choosing the Beast: Modern Folklore Heroines Embrace the Animal Husband

“I choose the bear.” The refrain rang out across the web, with many a woman nodding in agreement or at least understanding, and certain men huffing with indignant outrage. Just a meme, really, but did it speak to a deeper truth? Is it merely age-old mistrust of patriarchy talking, or a true desire for the beastly, the wild, the untame?

I’m no sociologist, of course, but I have noticed an emerging trend in fem-gaze media that seems to reflect this view. In movies like I Am Dragon (2015) and recent shows like My Lady Jane and The Acolyte, the heroine chooses the beast, loving her animal husband in his wild form rather than requiring him to transform back into a mundane man to earn her affection. This is such a departure from the typical folktale pattern that it’s difficult to even find an historic example where this occurs.

Commonly thought to reveal the desire to tame a dangerous mate in a patriarchal society, most animal husband tales (ATU 425a) feature a hero who ultimately transforms permanently into a human. This is viewed not only as freeing him from the maddening effect of his wild form, but also saving his bride from committing the sin of bestiality. In these tales, the animal mate’s transformation is necessary for the salvation of both.

Is the modern heroine then damned by choosing her husband’s beastly form? Or does she actually free them both from the yoke of patriarchal expectations?

Bathing: Discovering the Wild Masculine

The first motif that stands out in these modern screen examples is bathing. In animal spouse tales, there is often a dynamic of the hunter and the hunted, and thus a moment when the hunter comes upon their would-be lover unawares. Perhaps they find the animal spouse sleeping, or they cast a light on them unexpectedly, see them without their animal skin or disguise, and so on. And of course, they often come upon the lover at their bath.

There is an implied eroticism in this discovery, finding one’s quarry not only undressed, but also in the most private of activities. Water of course symbolizes fertility, but bathing is also purifying, symbolically washing away all that might make a mate undesirable. And this, perhaps, is the reason that historically this motif is used almost exclusively for animal brides, not animal husbands.

For the animal husband, he either actively chooses to reveal himself to the bride (perhaps on their wedding night), or she violently strips away his disguise, often armed with “flame and steel” like Psyche and her many avatars. Animal brides on the other hand are nearly always discovered at a body of water, bathing. The hunter will then capture her either by stealing her animal skin or cloak, or by placing his own clothing on her. What does it mean, then, when it is the husband who is discovered bathing in a body of water, held as an erotic object in the feminine gaze?

In The Acolyte, Osha follows Qimir to a pool where he slowly undresses, in full knowledge that she is watching. On the shore, she steals his lightsaber, just like the hunter who steals the animal skin, symbolically claiming him. When he emerges, Qimir dons new clothes, as if acknowledging that he is a different person than before he entered the water, almost purified in a way. Osha is forced to confront that there is more to the murderer in the mask than she realized.

Similarly, in My Lady Jane, our heroine goes looking for Guildford just before sunrise on their ill-fated wedding night, only to discover him bathing in the stables. The scene is gratuitously filmed from Jane’s (very horny) perspective, flipping the script on the countless scenes in screen history shot with the masculine gaze. Immediately after she discovers and confronts him, Guildford transforms against his will into a horse, and Jane realizes that he is an Ethian, a creature she has been taught is demonic and unnatural.

And in I Am Dragon, Mira makes several discoveries in quick succession: first, she deduces that Arman is actually the dragon. In the next moment, she slips from the island’s peak and falls, saved only when Arman transforms at the last moment and breaks her fall with his dragon form. The water begins to wash over his unconscious body, and at first Mira thinks that she will allow him to drown. But the sight of Arman in his human form after he rescued her, worried over by his animal familiar, stirs her to pity and she wraps him in a sail and drags him to safety. In this way, she clothes him, claiming him as her own.

Each of these heroines discovered a new aspect of her husband at the bath, finding him unexpectedly alluring, and ultimately choosing to begrudgingly claim him. Each animal husband tried to wash away his beastly form, to separate himself from the wild masculine. These men feel a sense of disassociation from a part of themselves, but now that their brides have discovered it, there will be no more hiding. Further, the bride now holds the power in the relationship, evidenced by how her husband needs her: Qimir needs Osha to be his apprentice, Guildford needs Jane to help him “break the curse,” and Arman needs Mira to heal him from his wounds.

Playing House: The Half-Husband

The second feature of these stories is a period of domesticity for the couple. For a brief time after the husband’s beastly nature is revealed, the lovers “play house” like children. While sexual tension is present, they typically do not consummate their union during this time, but instead cook, eat, rest, and care for one another. What’s more, they ignore or even attempt to actively destroy the husband’s animal form. They deny that this is part of him and therefore part of their relationship.

In I Am Dragon, Mira heals Arman, and wakes the next morning to find he has left food for her (dragonfruit, appropriately). Together they begin building a home out of shipwreck debris they find scattered around the island. A cheery montage shows them decorating a living space, choosing clothes, playing music, and dancing. But the specter of Arman’s monstrous form lurks on the edge of their idyllic life. Mira has nightmares, and tells Arman how much she fears “the dragon,” notably not referring to them as the same person. And eventually, it emerges that Mira has been planning to escape, rejecting Arman’s dragon form entirely.

After he sheds the helmet and robes of The Stranger, Qimir turns his attention to caring for Osha: he heals her, lets her sleep in his bed, provides clothes, and cooks for her. In turn, after some lightsaber-wielding, Osha becomes more comfortable in his home and accepts the food he offers, eventually even trying on his helmet. Later, they bicker amiably on their way to Brendok, like an old married couple on a road trip. When not facing down Jedi, Qimir leaves his menacing persona behind and transforms into an empathetic, protective, and alluring partner.

Jane Grey, meanwhile, finds herself using her honeymoon sequestered away in a private cottage to try to cure Guildford of his Ethianism. With her knowledge of medicine, she concocts various potions and magical cures, but none of them succeed. Guildford often checks in on her after these disappointments, making sure she’s getting enough sleep and taking care of herself. It’s also clear that they’ve been regularly dining together when Jane suddenly dashes off to rescue her friend. Guildford follows her and the two protect one another, followed by an almost-tryst. Even when they move into the palace, their day-to-day (or rather night-to-night) life is one of comfortable domesticity, although they continue to deny Guildford’s horse form.

In each of these cases (although less so in The Acolyte without Season 2 to continue the story), playing house can only last for so long while the husband’s animal nature is denied. There is a part of him that is suppressed, rejected, and this leads to him being incomplete, a half-husband. Each hero is unable or unwilling to accept and celebrate his whole self with his bride. Eventually, it is that denial that leads to a rift between the couple, which can only be healed not with the transformation of the husband, but with the embrace of his animal form.

Enforcing Patriarchy: The Rival

Each of these relationships exists in direct opposition to the dominant culture in the story: Arman as the Dragon is the literal enemy of Mira’s people, Qimir as Sith is the enemy of Osha’s Jedi masters, and in My Lady Jane, intermarriage between humans and Ethians is punishable by death. By choosing to stay with their animal husbands, even for a brief time, our heroines are openly defying the patriarchal norms of their societies. But no oppressive society is about to take that transgression lying down. In each story, a rival emerges to enforce the patriarchal order, kill the beastly husband, and retrieve the bride.

In I Am Dragon, Mira’s betrothed and descendent of the dragon-slayer, Igor, journeys to rescue her from the dragon. Over the course of the story, it becomes clear that Igor cares nothing for Mira herself, and merely feels entitled to her as his bride. Dragon-slaying is his heritage, so he must find her, kill the dragon, and take his place as the hero of his people. Even the marriage ceremony illustrates his ownership of her: he takes hold of a rope tied to her boat and reels her in, thus binding her to the patriarchal order. Contrast that to Arman, who offers her the power of flight, a symbol for freedom.

In Osha’s case, Qimir’s rival for her loyalty is clearly Master Sol, who wants to keep his former pupil dependent on him and the Jedi. Sol takes patronizing fatherliness to an extreme, constantly rescuing Osha rather than letting her stand for herself, teaching her to deny her feelings and instincts, and lying to her to “protect” her. The Jedi refuse to allow that there might be any other way to access the Force than their own, thus invading the home of the Brendok witches and ultimately orphaning the twins. Sol continues to press this dominance to the end, challenging Qimir and insisting to Osha that his own lies were justified.

In My Lady Jane, there are two rivals, both women. Lady Frances attempts throughout the show to dominate her daughters and crush their wills, forcing them into unwanted marriages, applying political pressure, and even counseling Jane to abandon Guildford to save herself. The other rival is Mary Tudor, who is determined not only to emulate her father’s violent, oppressive, and misogynistic reign, but to crush anyone she considers “unnatural” or who poses a threat to her rule. These characters stand as clear examples of how women can enforce patriarchy, too.

In each story, there is a moment when the rival briefly recaptures or “rescues” the bride from her beastly husband, bringing her to a moment of decision: will she stay within the bounds of patriarchy like a good little girl? Or will she make an act of defiance to choose her own path?

Marriage: Choosing the Beast

The bride’s choice will ultimately decide not only her fate, but that of her mate as well. As an independent character, the wild masculine is deeply wounded, separated from himself and thus from his bride. He longs to transform not into a greater, more whole person, but into a lesser, half-person. Alone, without the embrace of his anima, he cannot see the value of his beastly form. Instead of healing, he faces annihilation.

As a part of the bride’s psyche, the beastly husband represents her innermost desires, the truth of her heart, and a spirit freed from the expectations of her society. He is her animus, her missing wild masculine. If she transforms him into a man, then she will tame his wild nature, bringing him to heel under the boot of the patriarchy. Choosing the human form and rejecting the beast means rejecting her own psychological needs. It would be just another form of psychic dismemberment.

Fortunately and unusually, each of these modern brides chooses her beastly husband without demanding he transform. When Osha finally agrees to become Qimir’s apprentice, she takes his hand under the willow tree, clasping the newly-bled lightsaber between them. A few scenes later, this wedding imagery is repeated when they hold hands over the saber again, this time looking into a sunrise/set. Notably, at the moment they “marry” under the willow tree, Qimir is wearing his beastly helmet with rows of menacing, wolfish teeth. He has not come to the light side or shed his Dark Side persona, but Osha has embraced him anyway without fear. And while they might not both be healed (yet), they are more whole together than they were apart.

When her efforts to cure Guildford of his Ethianism repeatedly fail, Jane begins to suspect that his “condition” cannot be cured at all. But listening to her Ethian friends Susanna and Archer finally convinces her that the truth is Guildford doesn’t NEED to be healed - being an Ethian is who he is, and it’s nothing to fear. Unfortunately, Guildford still associates his beastly form with his mother’s death, so he is unable to accept it as Jane encourages, and flees. After a near-death experience, he uses his equine speed to return to the castle just as Jane is deposed and captured. As our heroes battle toward the end, Guildford comes to learn that there are many other proud Ethians, and that his family loves and accepts him in any form.

Still, he’s unable to transform at will, and when Mary captures him and sentences both husband and wife to death, it seems their story may end in tragedy. But as Guildford has been struggling to accept himself, Jane too has been battling with her own conscience. Does she renounce Guildford to save herself? Use her wits to kill the guard and escape? Bend to her mother’s manipulation? Jane confronts each temptation, and ultimately chooses to face death rather than betray Guildford or herself. But when her Ethian friends (the wild instinct) appear to disrupt the execution, our heroine seizes the opportunity to rescue Guildford. Unable to free him from the burning pyre, she confesses her love for him, and they kiss amid the flames.

Fire is often a herald of transformation, burning away illusions to reveal the truth. And when Jane and Guildford exchange their vows in this symbolic marriage ceremony, Guildford’s fears and illusions are finally burned away. Now that his bride has accepted his beastly form, he can accept it too, and so he at last transforms at will into a horse so that they can escape. Their story ends with them married and whole before the sunrise.

Among our modern heroines, Mira is the boldest in her embrace of the beastly husband. Offered yet again as a bride to Igor, she realizes that this is not what she wants, and casts off the tether from her boat. She declares “I love the Dragon!” using the name of her husband’s animal form rather than his human name. Then, she sings the song that will call the dragon to her, and he appears to carry her away again.

But their story is not over yet! Earlier in the story, Arman told Mira of how he loses control when in dragon form, and that dragons are compelled to reproduce by burning maidens to death and retrieving their offspring from the ashes. Returning to the island with her a second time, the dragon drops her on the altar and prepares to spew fire, but Mira lunges up and kisses him. This act of love, even when he is a monster, stuns the beastly husband. Again, Mira declares her love and kneels before him, saying she does not wish to be parted. We might expect the animal husband to transform in this moment, but instead he lays his fearsome head in her lap as a lover. Their story ends with a child and a flight in the sky, silhouetted by the sun just like the other couples.

Each bride, when confronted with the option to return to the patriarchal limits of her childhood, chose instead an act of love and acceptance for her wild masculine. This embrace helped the beastly husband to accept his whole self, and he is healed without having to cut off the wild parts of himself.

What Does It Mean?

Again, this story is so rare in world folklore that it’s difficult to even find examples. On fleeting occasions that the woman chooses an untransformed beast, it is presented as a cautionary tale. These women are framed as a danger to the community for their bestial impulses and abandonment of the social order, much like witches who were said to consort with the devil. It was certainly never presented as a happy ending, insofar as we can tell from written accounts.

So what does the emergence of this tale mean for our culture? I would argue that this is just the latest step in our ongoing reckoning with historic gender roles, as well as renegotiating with other forms of systemic oppression. People of all genders are pressured to reject a part of ourselves, cutting us off from our own truth and desires that run counter to the enforced social order. We must not challenge patriarchy, must not embrace different gender expressions, must not blur established hierarchies of power, must not find joy and power in our identities, and so on.

This enforced denial does tremendous damage to everyone caught in the system, and so through story, we dream our way to escape. We dream of embracing the dark, wild parts of ourselves, of flying free on a spaceship or a dragon or enchanted horseback, and of being totally loved for who we are.

It’s clear patriarchy is still fighting back against this emancipation of the wild feminine and wild masculine, given that both The Acolyte and My Lady Jane were canceled not long after their release. In the case of The Acolyte in particular, there was a sustained campaign from its announcement to harass and silence the creators. Demoralizing as this phenomenon may be, it’s important to remember WHO ultimately owns these stories:

“Fanfiction is a way of the culture repairing the damage done in a system where contemporary myths are owned by corporations instead of owned by the folk.

-Henry Jenkins, NYT 1997

Ah, an oldie-but-goodie. But Dr. Jenkins is right. Corporations may greenlight, film, release, and then cancel these stories, but ultimately they belong to the people. We take from these tales what speaks to us, leave what does not, and then retell them ourselves in fanfiction, in art inspired by the stories, and in lessons we pass on to our friends and families. If the embrace of the wild masculine speaks to you, let the story take root in your own life. Do you know someone who needs to be embraced, just as they are? Do you need to accept the parts of yourself that society tells you to hate? Do you want to be free, healed, and whole?

If so, then let these stories show you how, and tell more like them. Embrace the beast, and find your joy.

Sources:

Beauty and the Beast Tales From Around the World by Heidi Anne Heiner

In Search of the Swan Maiden: A Narrative on Folklore and Gender by Barbara Fass Leavy

And a relevant song for you, as a treat:

Women Who Run With the Wolves: Myths and Stories of the Wild Woman Archetype by Clarissa Pinkola Estés, Ph.D.

[euaphoru]

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐒𝐎 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇, 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇!

★ — contents ! explicit sexual content: jjk men as camboys featuring you! breeding link, toys, sweet!gojo, switch!geto, mean!toji, husband!kento? mentioned, pussy slapping, smacking, smut overall!

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ GOJO SATORU

camboy!gojo who is the type of person to be very welcoming and greeting when he invites you over to his place to join him, he had already set everything up and led you to where he had the monitor set.

camboy!gojo who immediately gets into his character and proudly shows you off, bent over his lap while squeezing his forearm while his other his spreading your lips and showing the viewers.

camboy!gojo who asks the chat if he should let you cum, after overstimulating you the entire time with his fingers and the brand new toys he used in you. The comments are being flooded with everyone saying to keep edging you but gojo could tell you weren’t able to keep up.

camboy!gojo who whispered praises in your ear, reassuring you to give him one more, “you’re doing such a good job for me,” and “looking so pretty with your makeup all ruined”, feeling your hand clawing at his arm, realizing your about to cum, “that’s it…cum all over my fingers, baby.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ GETO SUGURU

camboy!geto who was actually pretty nervous about meeting up with you at your apartment until he got inside and saw how cozy it was, so many plants and shelf’s filled with books—full of smut of course, and your sage burning on an ashtray. He loved the decor but not as much as when he entered your room full of your toys, like some sort of collection you had for fun?

camboy!geto who started the business as a guy with a mask in most of his posts, continuing on from that then later going on in his career, taking of his mask later in the year. This was your first time seeing him in person and god did he look so fineee. You tried to compose yourself and led him to the bed that was placed infront of the monitor. He took the lead by kissing at your temple and gripping your ass, giving it a light snack.

camboy!geto who had you both strip naked and had you on top of him, making him lean against the headboard while he motioned you with your hips to ride him, when did he get so confident? You thought, speaking too soon like you always do, you hear him let out whimpers while the chat gets flooded with “awhhh’s” and “let us hear him moreee!”

camboy!geto who tries to bite his lip to hold himself back from making any other noises— making you slap him, “don’t be shy, let them hear hear you..” you gesture, you lift your hips up and down at his hard-on, making him groan at the feeling at your warm walls squeezing him. “f-feels too good! ‘need more, pleaseee, princess.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ TOJI FUSHIGURO

camboy!toji who had no shame and remorse towards his girls, he would be such a filthy beast in bed and never gave you time to catch up with him. Everything he did was for his pleasure and his only. Although with the way you had your lips wrapped around his cock, he couldn’t help but be so sweet— not all the way though, he still loved to torment you.

camboy!toji who had you in a 69 position, forcefully making you suck on him by smacking your pussy whenever you tried to catch your breathe, distracting yourself by reading the comments or looking back at him over your shoulder. “Nobody told you to stop, do that shit one more time and i won’t let you cum at all tonight.”

camboy!toji who got upset with your demeanor and pushed you on your knees and shot hot ropes of his cum all over your face, some slipping down all the way to your breast making you lick his cum of your body while making eye contact with the camera infront of you while he rams his cock inside you.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ KENTO NANAMI

camboy!kento who was more professional and always did what his partner felt like, he didn’t like to have random girls wrapped around his cock— preferring his own girlfriend or wife being the one who was doing that.

camboy!kento who just started last month but blew up one night, people liking him for his voice and physic. His fans loved you the most though, whatever they put in the chat and asked you to do you would, making your view go up by ten percent and getting more subscriptions.

camboy!kento who loved when you would show the audience how much he would fill you up by opening up legs and watching his cum slip out your little pretty cunt, comments taunting him and asked if he had some sort of breeding kink— making him blush and step out of the camera.

camboy!kento who loved how he showed you off and how he didn’t care who watched, he mostly did it because it was a kink you had, voyeurism, but he secretly developed the same kink but he wouldn’t tell you.

[st4rg8te]

The Villainess' Redemption (P. 1?)

Various! Yanderes X Ex-Villainess! Reader

✦✧✦✧

Synopsis: You were once the villainess from some poorly-written romance novel, and somehow, you’ve ended up taking the place of a girl who shared your name—a girl who died while reading your story.

This world is different. Here, you’re no longer tied to a script or doomed to a villainess’s fate. Can you rewrite your ending, and find a place for yourself in this new reality? 

(aka cliche villainess reader gets transported into the modern times and suffers a lot)

✦✧✦✧

✦✧✦✧

The last thing you remember is the swing of the executioner’s blade against your neck—a fitting end for all the terrible crimes you’ve committed. 

Or so you thought.

When you wake up, it’s not the fiery pits of hell that greet you, but a room unlike any you’ve ever seen before.

Through blurred vision, you make out walls impossibly smooth and white, gleaming like polished marble. The light above burns unnaturally bright. The air is sharp and clean, carrying a faint, acrid tang that prickles at your nose.

Was this the afterlife?

Thin tubes are attached to your skin, running from your veins into strange machines you can’t begin to understand. A spike of panic grips you, your breath quickening as your mind scrambles for an explanation.

What if you weren't dead? What if they kept you alive to make you suffer more?

Your trembling hands brush over your body, and your face burns when you realize they’ve stripped you of your former clothes. You’re left in plain, white garments—clean, but thin and exposing.

The indignity is almost as much as the confusion, but you swallow it down, determined to unravel the mystery of this waking nightmare.

On the table beside you lies a book, its presence almost unnoticeable in the room. Yet something about it draws your attention, an unspoken pull that makes your hand reach out despite the unease in your gut.

The front is adorned with a vivid illustration: a man and a woman locked in a tender embrace, their faces soft with affection. There’s something hauntingly familiar about their faces, though you can’t immediately place why.

The title, etched in bold, flowing letters, reads: Enchanted by Fate.

You flip the book open, its pristine pages cool and crisp beneath your trembling fingers.

At first, it seems harmless—a typical romance, the kind that young noble ladies often liked to read. But as your eyes skim the text, a dreadful recognition dawns.

The names leap off the page like venomous snakes: his name—your old lover—and her.

Your heart pounds as anger flares, spreading through your chest. You can almost see her face again, the one who orchestrated your downfall, the one who plunged the blade into your back long before the executioner ever did.

Then your fingers freeze.

Your name.

Paragraphs upon paragraphs detailing your life, your crimes, and your eventual execution. The words blur as the memories resurface—the blade, the crowd, the jeers. Your breath hitches, and the sterile air suddenly feels suffocating.

You slam the book shut, the sound echoing unnaturally in the room, and throw it across the floor. It lands with a dull thud, pages spilling open like a gutted beast, taunting you from where it lies.

That book knew everything. It was impossible. Yet it was real.

With your mind still reeling from what you've just read, you fail to notice the woman entering the room.

Then, the sound of her voice cuts through the fog.

“She’s awake!”

You must have been right. This is your own personal hell.

✦✧✦✧

Human beings are resilient.

So, despite the mental blows you've suffered in a single day, you slowly begin to adjust to your strange new existence in the hospital over the following weeks.

There's so much about this world that you don’t understand, and begrudgingly, you admit that it still frightens you. You can’t shake the feeling that this is all some form of witchcraft.

The nurses, though kind, remind you of your old maids, their faces polite but distant as they introduce you to odd contraptions you can't begin to comprehend.

They call it technology, and they show you things like a 'television,' a box that displays moving images as though alive, and a 'toilet' that can swallow waste with a single flush—something that still seems impossible to you.

They find your lack of knowledge a little concerning, but none of them have the courage to say anything about it, chalking it up to a side effect of your memory loss.

It’s humiliating beyond words to be treated like a clueless child. The condescending tones, the endless explanations of things that feel like they should be second nature—it grates on you until the frustration threatens to spill over as tears.

In your past life, you were always the one in control. You were the influential daughter of a noble family—admired and feared by many. Now, all of that feels like a distant memory, a cruel joke played by fate.

You feel lost.

But the worst part—the part you can never quite confront—is the stranger in the mirror. The face staring back is not your own. You're told she shares your name, but that doesn’t make it any easier.

You can't help but avert your eyes every time you see reflections of yourself.

“[Y/N], are you doing okay today?”

The deep, gentle voice pulls you out of your spiraling thoughts. When you look up, a handsome man comes into focus.

It’s Your Doctor ♡.

Initially, he took an interest in you purely out of professional obligation. Your case was unlike anything he’d encountered before. He had treated patients with amnesia in the past, but never one as severe as yours. Especially considering the circumstances of why you were admitted in the first place. You reminded him of a wild animal—eyes darting with mistrust and fear, shrinking away from your surroundings. And yet, against his better judgment, he found himself drawn to you, compelled by the need to unravel the mystery of your mind. While you lacked even the most basic understanding of modern conveniences, certain skills and knowledge seemed to come to you effortlessly. You could converse fluently in multiple languages. You knew the names and precise uses of every piece of cutlery, from fish forks to soup spoons, and could recount their placement in a formal table setting. It was truly strange. He began to set aside his busy work, stealing moments during breaks to visit your room. It became a routine—teaching you; how to use a water dispenser, explaining the functions of a phone, or describing the significance of certain holidays and traditions.. He relished the way your face would light up in awe at the simplest things. The wonder in your eyes made him feel like he was witnessing the world anew, through your gaze. He still chuckles quietly to himself when he remembers your reaction to the television. The way you gasped, wide-eyed and almost frozen, as moving images flickered across the screen—it was unforgettable. “Pft.” The sound escaped him, soft but audible. A nurse passing by stopped in her tracks, stunned. She had worked with the doctor for years and had never seen him laugh—let alone blush. Yet here he was, smirking to himself like a schoolboy with a crush. After that, whispers began to circulate through the halls: that the hospital’s famous bachelor had fallen for someone.

"I'm feeling fine. Thank you for asking, doctor."

"I'm glad to hear that," he replied, his tone warm. "And you don't have to be so formal with me."

He sits down by your bedside, eyes curved upwards in a gentle smile as he begins to speak again.

"You're being discharged this afternoon. You'll be able to go home soon."

"Home?"

Would that mean that you would have to meet the body owner's family?

Throughout your entire stay at the hospital, not once had anyone visited you except the doctor and the nurse who attended to you daily.

A knot of nervousness forms in your stomach at the thought of finally meeting those people. What if they found your behavior too strange? What if they saw through you?

They didn’t know the truth—that their daughter was gone. Replaced by a stranger.

The doctor seems to notice the shift in your demeanor. Without hesitation, he reaches over, his hand warm and steady as it rests over yours. The gentle squeeze pulls you back to reality.

"Don’t worry," he says softly. "If you feel any pain or discomfort, please don’t hesitate to let me know. And I can give you my contact information—you can call or text me if you need help with anything."

"I... I’ve troubled you enough already," your eyes are fixed firmly on the bedspread, unable to meet his intense gaze.

Maybe it is normal in this world for women and men to touch eachother so casually like this.

"Nonsense," He replies with a chuckle. "Helping you is my job, after all ♡."

In the end, you are sent off with a small bag containing all your belongings and a crisp white slip of paper in hand, the string of digits scribbled neatly on it.

He watches you walk away, his gaze never wavering. A part of him wishes you had stayed longer.

He exhales a long, quiet sigh, his lips curving ever so slightly into a smile. You’ll call him soon.

And when you do, he’ll be there, ready to help.

✦✧✦✧

To your surprise, a nurse leads you to what they call a “car” parked in front of the hospital entrance—a carriage without horses. You feel a small flicker of pride in yourself for remembering the term.

It moves faster than any carriage you’ve ever known. And as the scenery blurs by, you can’t help but press your face to the window, eyes wide with wonder. Towering buildings scrape the sky, their glass and steel glinting in the sunlight. The bustling streets are filled with all kinds of people from all walks of life.

The driver eventually steers the car away from the bustling scene, guiding it into a quieter neighborhood. The streets narrow, and the towering skyscrapers give way to smaller, more subdued structures. Finally, the car comes to a halt in front of a large, old building.

"Have a nice day, miss."

"Ah… thank you," you say softly as you step out, your voice tinged with uncertainty.

The car drives off, and then you're finally left alone.

You turn to face the building, its weathered facade staring back at you. Compared to the grand mansion where you spent your entire life, this place feels cramped and shabby, its age evident in the peeling paint and creaking steps. Rows of numbered doors line each floor, stretching upward in a vertical maze.

Navigating the unfamiliar hallways proves to be a challenge, every turn leaving you more disoriented. When you finally find the staircase, you hesitate. The nurse had mentioned “elevators,” those strange boxes that carried people between floors. But the thought of stepping inside one fills you with unease.

Shaking off the idea, you take the stairs instead, the journey upward feeling longer than it should. Your legs ache with every step, and by the time you reach the supposed floor you live on, you’re out of breath.

At last, you find your door. Apartment 303. The brass plaque gleams faintly in the dim hallway light.

"Hello?"

You knock on the door, but only silence greets you. Anxiety begins to coil in your chest, tightening with each passing second. You glance around the empty hallway, hoping for a sign, a clue—anything. But nothing comes.

Your gaze shifts to the pad mounted beside the door. The arrangement of numbers stares back at you. It should be easy, you tell yourself. Just enter the code.

You press the first digit, then the second. It feels right—like you’re doing what you’re supposed to—but when you hit the final key, the pad lights up red and emits a harsh beep.

Locked.

Your heart sinks. You try again. But the result is the same: a flash of red and that sharp, cold beep.

Again.

Each failure making your frustration rise. Tears prick the corners of your eyes as the sudden overwhelming pressure of everything catches up to you.

The tears spill over, warm streaks running down your cheeks as quiet sobs escape your lips. You feel pathetic.

You miss your family.

You hadn’t allowed yourself to think about them until now—not fully. But their faces stay clear in your mind.

You miss your father’s embrace, your mother’s soothing voice, the way your brothers would tease and protect you in equal measure.

But they are gone. All of them, condemned to death because of your stupid actions.

And now, here you are—trapped in this foreign land, surrounded by incomprehensible machines and alien customs. The people here don’t know you, and you’re certain they never could. You’re an imposter in a world that feels as if it’s actively rejecting you.

And for the first time since you woke up in this strange world, you let yourself finally admit the truth.

You don’t belong here.

✦✧✦✧

"Holy shit lady, are you okay?"

The last thing Your Neighbor ♡ had expected after coming home was to find you sitting on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably by your apartment door.

The two of you have exchanged pleasantries a handful of times, maybe a nod or a muttered “hello” in passing. But it had still worried him a little when he hadn’t seen you in months. Hell, he even figured you’d finally had enough of this place and moved out for good.

"Do you… need help?" he asks, stepping closer cautiously.

Your face burns with embarrassment. You quickly wipe at your tear-streaked face with the sleeve of your shirt, sniffling as you try to compose yourself.

"I just… I can’t get the door to open.."

His eyes flickers to the lock and then back to you. "What, the code’s not working?"

You nod, avoiding his gaze. "I… I’ve tried it so many times, but it keeps locking me out," you say, your voice wavering. "Do you know how to open it?"

"Yeah, I can take a look. Just give me the code."

As he steps closer to the keypad, you wipe at your eyes again, trying to salvage what is left of your dignity.

What is wrong with you? Your mother would have been disappointed at you acting like this.

"Hey," he say after a moment, glancing at you over his shoulder. "Don’t sweat it. This lock’s a piece of crap. Happens to me all the time."

"Um... do you know if anyone else lives in this place with me?"

The man tilts his head, a flicker of confusion crossing his face. "I don’t think so."

A part of you feels relieved. The idea of facing her family—the family you now supposedly belong to—had been gnawing at you since you left the hospital. At least you don’t have to pretend to be someone you’re not.

But at the same time, the thought of living alone makes your stomach twist. You’ve never been on your own before. In your old life, you were always surrounded by people—your parents, the servants, ready to spoil you rotten. You never once thought about what it would be like to have to manage on your own.

This is your punishment.

The irony isn’t lost on you. The gods must have seen how you mocked her—your father’s bastard. You used to laugh at her and make fun of her upbringing. Now you can't help but think that she would have done much better if she was in your situation.

"Thanks." you mutter finally, your voice barely audible.

She wouldn't have cried over some stupid door like this and humiliate herself in front of a random man!

"Anyway, that's how you do it. If you need help with anything else, just knock on my door-"

BAM!

Before he could finish his sentence, you were already gone.

✦✧✦✧

Your Neighbor ♡ thought that would be the last time you two would really talk to eachother.

Every time he saw you in the hallway or from across the parking lot, you’d scurry away like a startled rabbit, avoiding eye contact. He figured you were just shy—or maybe embarrassed about how you’d met. Either way, he didn’t expect to hear from you again.

So, he was surprised when, a week later, there was a knock on his door.

When he opened it, there you stood, cheeks flushed an indignant pink, holding a neatly folded napkin in your hands.

"What’s this?" he asked.

"I made it for you," you said, thrusting it toward him. "It’s a gift for helping me that day."

He unfolded the napkin and blinked in surprise. His name was carefully stitched onto the fabric, surrounded by flower motifs.

"Holy shit. You made this?"

It was the sweetest gift he had ever received.

I-I noticed you seem to… sweat a lot. Whenever I see you. I thought it might help," you added, the words tumbling out in a rush.

It took him a second to register what you’d said, and when he did, he couldn’t help but laugh. "Oh, that’s because I go to the gym a lot. Not because I’m just… sweating everywhere."

Your eyes widened, mortified. "Oh! I didn’t mean—"

He grinned, cutting you off. "Relax, it’s thoughtful. Thanks."

There was an awkward pause before he gestured behind him. "You want to come in?"

That moment marked the beginning of something—he wasn’t quite sure what to call it. Friendship? Maybe. But that night, over tea, you finally opened up and told him about your memory loss.

A protective instinct had sparked in him the day he found you crying outside your apartment, and it only grew stronger as the two of you started spending more time together.

Before long, it became a routine—going back and forth between apartments, sharing meals, and finding small ways to help each other.

You didn’t know how to cook, so he often brought over dinner and started teaching you how to make simple meals. At first, you were hesitant, your pride making you stubborn, but he patiently guided you through every step.

Grocery shopping became another shared activity, with him pointing out what to buy and explaining things you didn’t recognize. Though he did like to tease you whenever you added far too many sweets to the cart.

One day, he had casually mentioned his interest in learning an instrument, and before he could blink, you’d practically leapt at the opportunity to teach him. Your enthusiasm embarrassed him at first, but he couldn’t say no to you.

When you discovered the dusty electronic keyboard he’d tucked away in a storage box, your eyes had lit up like it was treasure. From that moment on, you became his self-appointed music tutor, insisting it was your way of repaying him for everything.

“Why do I feel like you’re only spending time with me for the keyboard?” he jokingly asked after yet another lesson.

You huffed, crossing your arms. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m doing this because I want to help you.”

He couldn’t hold back his grin.

The more time he spent with you, the harder he fell. You were blunt and prideful, but also sweet and endearing in a way that caught him off guard. When he told you about his job as a club bodyguard, you had compared him to a knight, which made him burst out laughing.

On his way to the gym, a nosy neighbor had stopped him. “So, are you two dating yet? I remember her asking around about your name once.”

He blinked in surprise before the memory clicked. It must have been when you made that embroidered napkin for him. The image of you nervously going door to door asking around, too shy to talk to him directly, made his chest tighten.

Without thinking, his hand drifted to his pocket, where he still kept the cloth. He was on cloud nine the entire day.

Ah, he’d ask you to be his girlfriend soon. That much he was sure of. If only you weren’t so wary of relationships—and that other man who kept hanging around you. How irritating.

The man claimed to be your doctor, but what kind of doctor visited his patients so often? He wasn’t naive, and he could see the way the guy looked at you, the way he lingered too long in your presence. He knew those signs well enough.

Well, no matter. He’d just have to keep a closer eye on you.

After all, you were his to protect.

✦✧✦✧

EXTRA:

After slamming the door in the man’s face, you sighed in relief.

Finally, some peace.

Turning to the apartment, you fumbled around for the light switch. When the bright light flickered on, it hit you—and so did the sight in front of you.

"What the hell?!"

The walls were plastered with posters—of him. Your old betrothed. His smug face stared back at you from every direction, alongside her, the woman who ruined your life.

You froze, taking it all in. It wasn’t just posters. There were figurines, framed photos, and even a pillow with his face on it.

It didn’t take long to figure out the awful truth. The girl whose body you’d taken wasn’t just any stranger—she was a die-hard fan of the book you came from.

✦✧✦✧

A/N: I hope you guys enjoy this wacky gift for New Years. I plan to introduce 2 more love interests if I ever get to writing the second part. They're like color coded. Anyway, this was like massive compared to my other works.

I'm still writing Twisted Affections Pt. 3, but some pieces of smut are probably going to come out before that. Thank you for patience!

✦✧✦✧

[ozzgin]

Monster kidnapper smut that's beneficial for the human: the king finally let's the servants in on *why* he's so fond of reader and lo and behold: the servants had bets on them and when they'll reveal the secret. At least of them had to know early on, right?

Or, alternatively;

Reader joins the monster king in on a meeting to discuss something dealig with war and reader teasing the king very subtly the whole time. Your pick

- 👁️👁️

Content: gender neutral reader, monster smut, NSFW! (exhibitionism, fingering)

You’re not supposed to be here. The last thing he needed to worry about was his own men gawking at you, yet he had no choice: he would’ve otherwise been away for too long. He feared he might’ve returned to find you gone, troubled by another rescuing attempt, or snatched shamelessly by some other monster looking for a mate.

At least now he can keep you under his watchful gaze. He breathes a sigh of relief, knowing that your safety is ensured, and that-

“What’s the circled area?” you ask the other monstrous officer, bending over the enormous desk in an attempt to reach the source of your curiosity.

Your beastly husband is immediately distracted by your posture. Are you messing with him right now? You can’t possibly be this oblivious. Your back is arched, pushing your bottom upwards. Whatever explanation his subordinate is currently providing you with is a mere blur against his ears, as his mind begins to wander. He can almost picture his large, clawed hand pinning you against the wooden surface, locking you in place as his other hand skillfully strips you of any clothing obstacles. His fingers trace your outline: you’re ready to be filled.

“Right, Sir?”

He coughs dryly and approaches the table, trying to sober up. Yes, it’s exactly as his inferior says. Whatever the hell that was. He was too busy folding you in half mentally.

“That makes sense”, you hum with feigned interest.

He knows that look. It’s the same innocent expression you make when your mouth is struggling to take him in, your small hands holding onto the base for support. He clicks his tongue, frustrated by your obvious attempts to tease him. He can feel the heat traveling downwards.

“Bring me the other documents, will you? They’re in the storage behind”, your husband demands, pointing at some furniture across. The officer scrambles to fulfill his order.

At the same time, your monster spouse marches towards the nearby sofa, nonchalantly pulling you after him. You can tell he’s upset and that he’s made up his mind. He pats the empty space next to him, and you hesitantly follow. Before you can sit, his hand swiftly cushions your landing. You gasp and squirm from the sudden intrusion, while his fingers fumble with your undergarments, searching for an opening.

“Oh, one thing I forgot to mention”, the officer remarks cheerfully, head buried in the paper clutter. He proceeds to narrate further explanations to your earlier discussion.

You can only nod quietly, biting your lips in a helpless struggle. How lewd, how outrageous! You tilt your head pleadingly, but the beast smirks back at you. You’re not getting out of this.

One finger is enough to noticeably stretch your entrance. You’ve no time to protest, nor to adjust to the foreign object currently inside you, as it begins pumping in and out.

“Ah!”

You slap a hand over your mouth. The subordinate returns with a stack of folders under his arm, chuckling at the sight. He never imagined his Lord to be the cuddly type, yet here he is, holding you in his embrace.

“No need to mock me, (Y/N). I know it wasn’t the most shocking fact.”

“Weren’t you very interested a moment ago?” your husband inquires with a wide grin, increasing his pace. “Ask him something else. Go on.”

[Monster Marriage] | [More Monsters]

[luffington]

hello!! 🩷 may i request a doflamingo and corazon x fem!reader (nsfw)? these brothers are very much different from one another so i feel like corazon would always scold doffy for being mean to y/n lol. but somehow corazon himself also has a nasty streak in him when he's fucking her and doffy knows it

✧.* art credit!

➤ pairing: donquixote doflamingo x afab!reader x donquixote rosinante (corazon)

➤ word count: 1.7k

➤ warnings: threesome, oral (m receiving), choking, bondage, degradation, creampie, corazon is mute, she/her for reader

nothing physical happens between doffy and cora but doffy is still a freak so read at your own risk!

ugHHHH the concept ever!!!! i think about this so much more than i should.... there's no way cora's a 100% pure virtuous angel boy he's gotta have some very repressed darkness in him

i briefly threw this in but i LOVE the idea of doffy being weirdly possessive of the name rosinante and who gets to call him that. their dynamic is sooooo interesting but we'll never see more of it thanks oda >:(

NSFW under the break! minors dni thank uuu

The Donquixote brothers didn’t want to look like each other. But stripped bare and shadowed in dim bedroom light, the similarities were uncanny.

Soft blonde hair ruffled by your fingers and slicked back from sweat. Long and lanky limbs, big hands that felt calloused when they ran across your naked skin. Perfectly sculpted bodies littered with decades worth of scars. You had only seen the older brother without sunglasses one time, and their strikingly beautiful eyes side by side made your breath catch in your throat. 

This bizarre situation began many months ago, not long after you joined the Donquixote Family. At first, you could easily figure out which brother was touching you – the soft kisses of a gentle giant or the fangs of a hungry beast. Doflamingo had actually blindfolded you once for that exact purpose with the promise of rewarding you if you got every answer correct. And you did. But you hated not being able to see Corazon, and hated how much Doflamingo enjoyed taking away his brother’s only form of communication.

Now, it was harder to tell them apart.

Strings wrapped around your waist, your thighs, your tits. Kept your hands tightly bound behind your back. Doflamingo had you speared on his cock and bounced you up and down with marionette motions like an actual puppet. His massive length stretched your insides delightfully and kissed the tip of your cervix with every thrust. He intentionally positioned your back to his chest so you could look at his brother, sitting cross-legged in front of you near the edge of the bed. Corazon’s gaze lingered on your debauched expression and the way your soft flesh bulged around Doflamingo’s too-tight strings. Jaw hanging slack as he stroked off his own dick, long and veiny and already beginning to leak precum. 

The younger’s face paint was almost completely smeared off – streaks of maroon coated your mouth like badly applied lipstick and littered your inner thighs. Practically indistinguishable from the red lines inflicted by Doflamingo’s strings. 

“Isn’t she gorgeous?” Doflamingo purred. His brother nodded immediately as if in a trance. “What a pretty little toy.”

Corazon didn’t like that term. He would never treat you like an object the way his brother did – he cherished you as he believed any partner should be. But he couldn’t deny how the thought of using you for his own pleasure made his cock twitch, especially since you enjoyed it. You were so pliant and willing for him, for both of them. 

Satisfied by the younger’s response, Doflamingo wrapped a large hand around your throat, his long fingers digging into the delicate skin. You coughed and sputtered as your airway was slowly cut off. Corazon immediately stopped jerking off to grab the pen and notepad next to him, quickly scribbling ‘Too rough!!!’ in his messy handwriting and angrily holding it in front of his brother. 

The older man chuckled, but released your neck and stroked over his fingerprint marks in mock kindness. 

You leaned forward to kiss Corazon, who clumsily knocked his nose against yours in his haste to reciprocate. It was truly baffling how one brother could make your heart melt with fondness while the other rearranged your guts. Corazon kissed you languidly, content to take his time and savor the feeling of your tongues swirling together.

“You taste like cigarettes,” you giggled. He always did, but the taste was especially fresh and potent, making your head spin pleasantly. 

Corazon frowned and signed ‘I’m sorry’. 

“Don’t apologize, I like it. It tastes like you.” He grinned in response. Corazon was actually just beginning to learn sign language, since he hadn’t needed it before his current mission, and you took the time to learn to communicate with him. It made his heart swell with love.

Doflamingo frowned at the tender moment and abruptly pushed your head into his brother’s lap. “Well, don’t just fucking stare at him. Be a good slut and suck Rosi off.”

Rosinante. What a beautiful name. You wished you were always allowed to use it, not just when you were alone with him. Doflamingo would break your legs if he heard you utter the sacred name which only true Donquixotes were permitted to say.

Corazon gave his brother another dirty glare, but covered his mouth and fought to hold back a moan when you kitten-licked the base of his cock, suckling on his balls delicately. He wished his soundproofing abilities came with a control panel – it was nearly impossible for him to stay silent with your perfect mouth on him, but he needed to hear your sweet moans as you lapped at his dick. 

Your head jerked back suddenly in time with a twitch of Doflamingo’s fingers. “Pathetic whore can’t follow directions? I said suck.” He forced your head down again without giving you time to open your mouth. Your string-controlled movements made you awkwardly rub your cheek against the head of Corazon’s cock, smearing precum on your skin. 

The younger immediately started scribbling another angry note. But then you ran your tongue along the part of his length you could reach and he dropped his notepad, too consumed by pleasure to finish his thought. 

You finally wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, causing Corazon to let out a shaky sigh. “Better, right?” Doflamingo smiled sadistically, pushing your head further down his brother’s dick. The older blonde fucked you deep and slow, making you feel every vein and ridge of his cock as you rose just to harshly slam you down to the base. 

One of Corazon’s hands rested on the back of your head as you bobbed up and down. He watched with hooded eyes as you slurped along his cock, little bits of drool running past your lips and dripping down to his balls. You were so close to fitting his entire length in your throat – a truly impressive feat – and you pushed yourself a bit farther than you could handle. When your throat constricted in protest, Corazon couldn’t help but hold you down and throw his head back with parted lips. Your gag reflex immediately kicked in and you choked around his cock, lungs desperately seeking air but his hand stayed locked in place. You looked up at him pleadingly and found a sense of twisted wonder in his eyes. His lips quirked into a fascinated smile as he wiped away a drop of moisture spilling from your eye. 

When your moans became louder and more insistent, Corazon let you go. You pulled off of his dick, sputtering and gasping for air, chin coated in your own saliva. It took him a moment to snap back to reality and realize that the wetness he felt was a teardrop. 

‘Are you okay?’ He signed in a panic, followed by frantic gestures of, ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry–’

“Don’t worry. I’m okay.” You reassured him with a smile as he apologetically wiped away any remaining traces of tears. “You liked it, right? Making me gag?”

Corazon looked away, feeling incredibly guilty and irredeemably dirty.

Doflamingo cackled, stilling his movements with his cock buried deep inside you. “Did you just apologize for getting good head? Oh, poor little Rosi.”

The younger flipped to a blank page and wrote ‘Choking isn’t good’. Almost as a reminder to himself.

“It is under the right circumstances,” his brother replied coolly.

You rolled your eyes – their extremely different concepts of morality sometimes gave you a headache. Turning back to glare at the older blonde, you retorted, “You’re talking about consent. Consensual choking is fine.” 

“Oh, right. Forgot the word.” Doflamingo teased. His puppet strings pulled you upright, away from Corazon’s pretty pink dick which was clearly close to cumming. He would never turn his precious little brother into a plaything with his abilities – he wasn’t a complete degenerate. So Doflamingo kindly opted to grab a handful of Corazon’s hair and yank his head against your chest. “Play with her tits. You can fuck her when I’m done.”

Your breasts bounced as Doflamingo sped up his movements, squished together and emphasized by the nearly invisible strings wrapped around them. Corazon licked his lips hungrily before wrapping them around a nipple and loudly sucking. You whined as his tongue swirled around the bud, rolling your other nipple gently between his fingers. Doflamingo wrapped his hand around your neck again, but this time, he didn’t apply any pressure. He left it there as a constant presence – a reminder for you and an example for his brother.

“So fucking close,” he grunted, bouncing you faster and harder. “Gonna cum inside. Rosi, you okay with sloppy seconds?” Corazon knew it was a rhetorical question, but he would never tear himself away from your breasts to answer, anyways. The older shoved his hand between your bodies to thumb at your clit until both of you reached your peak, crying out in utter bliss. 

Doflamingo held you flush against his hips as he came, hot sticky spurts of semen flooding your insides as he whispered his fucked up version of sweet nothings in your ear – “such a perfect dirty whore, taking every drop of my cum like the cocksleeve you are”. Corazon eagerly watched your face contort with pleasure as he continued to suckle on your nipple. His own cock ached, but he didn’t risk touching it. Cumming inside you, seeing you make that blissful expression for him, outweighed his urgent desire. 

Your body automatically lifted off of Doflamingo’s cock, globs of cum dripping out of your cunt and onto the bedsheets below. You had barely settled on the bed when he withdrew his strings, leaving you to practically collapse with sore limbs and no support. Doflamingo shifted towards the headboard and stole a cigarette from his brother’s pack. He lit the end, inhaled deeply, and got comfortable to watch the show. 

Corazon pressed his lips against yours gently, slowly guiding you to lie flat on your back. He made a thumbs up and raised his eyebrows in question. “Yes, I’m ready,” you smiled at your sweet boy. 

His cock entered you slowly, tenderly, accompanied by the lewd shlick of the cum already inside you. Neither of you dared to acknowledge whose cum it was. When you looked up, you saw feathery blonde bangs, fading face paint, soft and loving eyes, and a perfect replica of Doflamingo’s smile.

[chuuyascumsock]

Bury Beneath this Filth they Call Skin and Turn it into a Garden || MINORS DNI

Summary: I made a hurt/comfort fic for Chuuya, I might as well make a comfort fic for Dazai too cause he’s my soft spot.

Tags: Dazai Osamu/Reader, GN reader, Angst, Comfort, No One Is Safe, Mentions Of Self Sabotaging, Self-deprecating Thoughts, Mentions Of Dehumanization, Mentions Of Suicide Attempt, Dazai Highkey Has Bad Hygiene Because I Know He Canonically Reeks Of Liquid Ass (I Still Love Him But Honey—), Brief Description Of Self Harm Scars, He Takes Off His Bandages, Non-Sexual Nudity For A Bit.

Dazai doesn’t remember when you started to keep an extra pair of clothes in your bottom drawer just for him.

He doesn’t remember when you bought an extra toothbrush for him either, the item sitting in a small cup on your bathroom counter so intimately close to yours. He doesn’t remember when you started to stock your cabinets with canned crab or an occasional snack he had stolen from you before and said it tasted good. He doesn’t remember when you began preparing meals big enough for two. And he doesn’t remember when you started to look at him the way you do.

Those eyes that so fondly trace over every inch of his frame like he’s capable of being loved— like he’s not a silver-tongued beast of a man, his words filled with more teeth than his bite ever could. He doesn’t deserve it— he knows he doesn’t— so why does he find himself at your doorstep every time he fails his attempts in ending his miserable existence?

“You’re going to get sick if you keep this up,” You sigh out, stripping away Dazai’s soaked clothes until he’s shivering in his sopping wet bandages and boxers. “And you smell horrible every time…” Your nose slightly scrunches at the lingering smell of hydrogen sulfide and mucky water from the Yokohama canal.

“Whatever do you mean, dear? That’s just my natural musk,” Dazai gives a lopsided grin, attempting to lighten the mood. His grin falls into an uneasy look when he notices the brief side eye you give him as you toss his clothes into the washer.

“My water bills spike every month you do this, you know,” You point out blamelessly.

“Sorry,” Dazai mumbles with a weak smile. He always made a promise to try his hardest not to inconvenience anyone while making his attempts— making it up to those who he had done so with such as Atsushi. But he’s burdened you countless times, not realizing until now. Before he mentally promises himself to never return to you like a pathetic, mangy stray dog— you come into his view again.

“Don’t be sorry, but please come to me when you feel the urge to do these things, ‘Samu. I worry about you.” And Dazai can’t help but to immediately let his previous thoughts fly away. Who was he kidding? He’d never be able to stay away from you.

Your hands carefully reach to begin unwrapping the bandages sliding off Dazai’s body. Flinching, Dazai subconsciously moves a hand to stop you from taking his bandages off. There’s a momentary standstill between both of your movements as you look into his eyes with a reassuring gaze before his hand relaxes and falls to his side. It’s not the first time this has happened, but Dazai doesn’t think he’d ever get used to the feeling of having his protective cloth shed to reveal the myriad of scars that are engraved on this once blank canvas that humans call skin.

And when all is removed, you still look at him as you always had with an unwavering fondness that leaves him subconsciously leaning into you, yearning to be swallowed and drowned in your gentle affections. He doesn’t understand why you do the things that you do, such as loving him no matter how many times he tells you how much he doesn’t need you because it’s always been like that— lonely— or why you even put up with any of his shit for that matter. But you do. And he thinks he’ll never know why, because he’s terrible and doesn’t deserve what you do in return to his horrid behavior.

He slips into the tub without needing guidance, face tilting up to look at you without his usual charming grin, expression replaced with a quiet pleading, begging for any sliver of attention you can offer. And you give into his pleads, sitting by the tub while running a hand through his dark tangled hair before reaching for a washcloth to bathe him. There’s a lack of cheeky comments and flirting from Dazai as you rinse away the grime sticking to his tainted skin, his eyes flickering from distant to focused in a matter of minutes before glancing back over to you and melting further into your reverent touch.

Even after exiting the tub, he says nothing, allowing you to wrap a towel around his shoulders and place a tender kiss to his forehead. If this had been any other day, he would’ve teased you to no end about how you had to stand on your toes just to reach his face, but he merely softly smiles in mild amusement and lets you lead him into your room to get dressed.

He wears the extra pair of clothes you keep for him at the bottom of your drawer, shirt loosely hanging off his shoulders and pajama pants dragging along the floor each time he takes a step forward to follow you to your bed. He was used to sleeping on his futon, but he much preferred your bed and the comfort your body brought when he tangled his limbs in yours.

You don’t scold him either when he buries his face into your neck like you used to the first few times he had done so— complaining about his hot breath on your neck. Now, you reach a hand back to scratch your fingers through his damp hair in an affectionate manner, sighing out softly in what he can tell is contentment.

Even as Dazai drifts off, he can’t help but think about the irony of hating dogs as much as he does, yet he can’t help but love you like one.

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Idia Shroud - Room Relaxation Vignette

"Happy Birthday"

[Mister S's Mystery Shop]

Idia: …Hrrm, I can't find the 15th Anniversary special Star Rogue diorama.

Idia: I told Sam-shi I'd look for it myself, so I wouldn't have to deal with him talking to me, but… There's way too much stuff here to look through!

Idia: And I came all this way 'cause I wasn't fast enough to get it online.

Idia: I can't go back empty-handed after telling Ortho that there's no way I wouldn't get my hands on one as a number one fanboy!

Idia: Oho? This shelf over here has a ton of specialty figures and other hobby stuff… EEHHHH!?

[products fall of shelf]

Idia: OUCH! OW OW OW!!

Jack: Woah!? That was close! Some of the falling goods almost scraped by my nose…

Idia: I-I-I didn't do anything! They just fell off on their own since they were thrown haphazardly onto the shelf!!

[Idia runs away]

Jack: Huh? No one said it was your fault or nothin'…

Jack: …What the, he's already gone! Idia-senpai… He looks slow and frail, but is he secretly actually pretty nimble?

Jack: Oh, man, and he just left everything on the ground. Ugh, I guess I'll have to…

Jack: …Hm? Isn't this box the one Ortho mentioned today…?

[Ignihyde Dorm – Idia's Room]

Idia: …Haah. And in the end, I just ran away… Without a Star Rogue diorama…

Idia: It's all because they sold it first-come-first-serve, instead of pre-order... Not my fault what happened earlier…

Idia: If I went back now, that terrifying beast of a man from Savanaclaw might still be there. I'll try again tomorrow…

Idia: K. Now that I've decide that, time to get all the annoying dorm work stuff done!

Idia: Uhhh, so, the notices I have to give the other dorm students are… Oh, right, the equipment replacement schedule, and the AC inspection time.

Idia: Just in case, I'll add "Important", "Good News", "Response Required", and "Read Immediately" to the subject… K, sent.

Idia: It sure is hard work bein' a Housewarden. Thought it's not that bad since I implemented a chat app once I became Housewarden.

Idia: Efficiency above all! No face-to-face meetings! Conserving my own energy is the best way to do things!

Idia: Finished all my Housewarden tasks, and even took a shower, as annoying as it is. I'm awesome. I'd give myself 100,000,000 points out of 100.

Idia: Nice, so… It's finally me time!

[Ignihyde Dorm – Idia's Room]

Idia: Ah, I got a message from Ortho… He's spending the night in the first year rooms, huh.

Idia: Then, I guess I can just game all night by myself! Fheeheehee!

 [beep, beep!]

Idia: Hm…? What's with this reminder…? Man, right when I was getting into things.

「Survey on Quality of Life Improvements for the Student Body」

Idia: Ugh.. Right, that was a thing. You don't really see paper surveys anymore. Let me think, it should be around… Yep, here it is.

Idia: Uhhh, so what, they want to know what I'd like improved? I mean, kinda late to ask a third-year, isn't it? I can't really think of anything.

Idia: Sides, there were stuff I used to not like about the dorm, but I already made upgrades to all that stuff.

Idia: We soundproofed the walls and floors, installed commercial-grade AC, and the dorm-wide servers are of my own technical specs.

Idia: To live the perfect shut-in life, we can't not have walls that can't take loud shouting, or ACs that can't keep overclocked PCs cool, so～

Idia: …Ah, wait a mo'. I just thought of one issue I got. "There's not enough electrical outlets"!!

Idia: This kinda stuff needed specialized qualifications to do, so it's not like I coulda bought the parts and DIY it.

Idia: I'm using a power strip for now 'cause I have to, but I hate how the wiring just looks like spaghetti. Even a master wiring tech like myself can't stand a sight like that!

Idia: Oh, I just thought of one more thing. "I want to have the low-capacity breaker replaced"!

Idia: It's so weak that the breaker flips just 'cause I try to have 4 computers, the server, a 3D printer, microwave, and electric kettle all plugged in at once!

Idia: I mean, I'd set up a UPS (uninterruptible power supply) system in case of emergencies, so my computers and server was fine, but...

Idia: Because of that, my plan to add an AC unit and a refrigerator in my room went out the window. That was a nightmare. Oh, and…

Idia: …Dyehehe. I said I couldn't really think of any, but it's hilarious how the ideas keep flowin' out.

Idia: I'll attach some of the numbers we have on the cost of estimated damages by having Ignihyde students continue to use those useless breakers.

Idia: The Headmage is pretty much influenced by profits, so. If I explain how it's necessary to get better equipment, then he might listen to improvement suggestions.

Idia: Nice, mission clear. Time to watch some new anime episodes while grinding levels in my gams.

Idia: See, nothing beats watching anime while mindlessly leveling… Ooh, I pulled a rare one!

Idia: I thought I'd be bored of this anime 3 episodes in, too, but it's actually starting to get interesting!

Idia: Well, now that the mood's getting good, I just gotta let loose! TIME FOR A SNACK PARTY!!

Idia: …Huh? I'm out of my favorite snack. Ugh, I completely forgot to re-order some more when I ate all of it last time.

Idia: If only the Mystery Shop had 24-hour delivery service… Maybe I should add that to the survey?

Idia: Nah, nevermind, I should just focus on the anime. NOTHING'S GONNA BRING ME DOWN!

Idia: Woah, the animation's clean…! They're all movin' so smoothly… Maybe the production team changed this week?

Idia: I'm getting pretty into the main theme song, too! Heehee, fheeheehee…!

[Ignihyde Dorm – Idia's Room]

Idia: Urrghnn… Aaarghh…

[～♪]

Idia: Gah! Urgh, what's that noise…? What time is it right now…?

Idia: Urk! Everything's so bright, I can't see anything… How's it morning already…? Wait, before that, where'd that noise come from…!?

Idia: Huh…? Ortho…? Weren't you spending the night with the other first years…? Oh wait, is this just a message…?

Idia: "HAPPY BIRTHDAY"…? Oh, right, today's my birthday! I completely forgot, since there wasn't anything to look forward to…

Idia: I'll just write back… Thanks, Ortho.

Idia: Urp…! But now I feel a bit sick…! And my whole body hurts…!

Idia: I fell asleep running my games, and I'm just stiff all over. Can't I just go move to my bed and go back to sleep?

Idia: Nah, if I end up crashing and forget to login and get all the birthday login voice lines, I'll never recover. Gotta wash my face or something…

Idia: Woah, I can see how crazy my bedhead is reflected in the monitor! I think this every time, but why does my hair end up this bad whenever I fall asleep at my desk?

Idia: Kinda looks punk, but that's totally a different vibe from my usual, lawl.

Idia: Meh, my hair can be whatever. Not like anyone looks at me, anyway.

Idia: It's a pain to go all the way to the washroom… I'll just use magic like I normally do. I'll chill the water, then.

[splash!]

Idia: WHEEEEW, THAT COLD WATER HITS JUST RIGHT!!

Idia: Normally, I'd just leave it here, but… My face feels so dry after pulling that all-nighter.

Idia: But I'm all good. I'm a functioning nerd, so I know how to fix it.

Idia: Ta-da～ I don't really get it, but here I go with the number one most popular all-in-one cream～

Idia: Putting on lotion and moisturizer one at a time is a waste of time. Just plap it on, and ta-da, done. Next is my clothes…

Idia: Nah, nevermind, I'm not gonna change. Now all I have to do is to jump into all my games and collect the birthday login voice lines. Fheeheehee.

Idia: Perf, I've gotten them all for now. …Huh? There's another message from Ortho…

Idia: …HUH!? HE GOT THE 15TH ANNIVERSARY SPECIAL STAR ROGUE DIORAMA!? SERIOUSLY!?

Idia: "I was planning on picking it up in the Mystery Shop after classes, but if you can't wait, you can go pick it up whenever"…?

Idia: Well, I gotta go right now, then! That means I have to finish getting ready.

Idia: I don't really wanna go outside, but… I can't keep my poor Star Rogue waiting! Hyah!

[Idia magics hair and clothes]

Idia: K, bedhead fixed. And now, onwards, to the Mystery Shop!!

[Main Street]

Idia: Fheeheehee…! Look at this craftsmanship…! It looks just like the scene I imagined as a kid!

Idia: Ortho… Did you look for this Star Rogue diorama because you knew I was sad I didn't get it?

Idia: Wheew～ The best thing in the world is a little brother who thinks the world of his older brother, and is really good at search functions～!

Jack: Hm? Is that… Idia-senpai? Good morning.

Idia: GYAAAAAA!? J-Jack-shi…? Why are we making contact two days in a row…?

Jack: I mean, it's not really anything, but… I heard from Ortho yesterday that today was your birthday, is all.

[Idia runs away]

Jack: Happy Birthday. So, uh, did you get what you were looking…

Jack: Huh, he's already gone! Ugh, I don't get him at all.

Requested by @farfalla049.

[dinogoofymutated]

Nightcrawler/GN!Reader The first Fic of the season is here!!! I'll go ahead an outright say that the other fic will NOT be this long and this in-depth. This one took me literally the whole month of september when it was only supposed to take me two weeks. I'm going to do my best to make sure that the other fics come out on time, but please have a little patience with me ;-; Also, This fic has not been beta read bc it is an absolute beast at 8k words (at least for me), so if anything seems off, or the ending was too abrupts, don't be mean lol.

You've recently moved into an old, spooky mansion that your great-aunt left you in her will. It's been uninhabited for years but is strangely well-kept. You're sure you live here alone, but every once in a while you can't shake the feeling of being watched…

Tws: Demons, stereotypical witchcraft, Alcohol consumption, Graphic depictions of blood and wounds for a minute, I'll add more if I can think of any.

    When the keys are plopped carelessly into your hands, they’re cold. They’re still cold, two weeks later when you finish moving in. It wasn't a fancy affair, no movers or big trucks, just some friends and the van they borrowed from the school. Truthfully, you didn’t really have a lot anyway. Most of them had honestly only shown up to offer their condolences for your loss.

    Your groceries feel heavier than normal when you set them on the kitchen counter, stepping back with a sigh. Never in your wildest dreams would you have even imagined of living in a place like this. You’d never even visited Aunt Maude’s house- Your, house. Sure, you and the rest of the family all knew she was well-off, but no one had a clue that when the will was read she had left you a Victorian-era mansion along with her estate. Even you hadn’t until you googled her address after the lawyer gave you the keys. 

    As surprising as it was, it was definitely your Great-Aunt Maude’s house. Every bathroom, bedroom, living space, You could see her in all of it. She was kooky and eclectic, with a love for all things strange and unusual. It was comforting, almost. To be wrapped in a house filled with the remnants of your aunt. Your eyes sting as you begin to fill up the long empty fridge, organizing it to your liking. You close the door and see your graduation photos stuck to it, along with a photo strip from the photo booth she dragged you into at your sweet sixteen. You suck in a shakey sob, tears welling in your eyes for what feels like the millionth time that day. You’re sad, and exhausted, and you haven't even unpacked yet, most of your belongings set in boxes in the Sitting room and Hallway.  But you just… couldn’t bring yourself to bother. Everything that was cold was already put in the fridge, so you decided the rest can wait till the morning.

    You trudge up the stairs with as much energy as you can muster, and when you finally make it to the master bedroom, you’re ready to pass out. The room is decorated in a way that feels much more like you than it felt like your Aunt, and you notice that the quilt on the bed was one she had shown you at Christmas one year. One you told her you very much envied. It was like she had made the room your own before she even stepped foot into the nursing home. The thought is enough to choke you up again. You crawl underneath the soft covers in a pretty pitiful manner, falling asleep almost immediately. 

    It’s only when you wake up the next morning that you start to notice something strange about this house. 

    The kitchen is a somewhat long walk from the upstares bedroom, and you’re basically starving by the time you get downstairs. You yawn as you grab the milk out of the fridge, still feeling half asleep as you turn around to grab the cereal off the counter only to find it… gone. In fact, all of the groceries you had left on the counter yesterday were gone.

     The realization is like a shot of ice through your veins. What the fuck?… You must have put them away last night, right? But you knew they were on the counter when you went to bed. You feel like you’re going to throw up, thinking about the chance that a burglar had broken in last night and you hadn’t heard it because you were upstairs. You sprint to the sitting room taking note of all your boxes and things, making sure to double-check that your TV was actually there and not a figment of your imagination, but it was definitely solid. You cautiously walk back to the kitchen, staring at the pantry door for an anxious moment before biting the bullet and swiftly opening it.

    All your groceries were in place. All are organized neatly exactly where you would have preferred them to be. Strange. You must have woken up last night and done it. Right? It wouldn’t be too absurd to assume you had put the groceries away half-asleep and forgotten about it. That had to be it. It’s not like someone broke in last night just to put your groceries away. Now that was just plain ridiculous. 

    From then on out, The strange things only seemed to continue.

    Sure, a house this old wasn’t without a general peculiarity about it, but after being told it hadn’t been inhabited since Aunt Maude put herself into inpatient care, it should be dusty, right? A home of this size, cluttered with the many odds and ends she had collected over the years? You’d never heard of a house that could dust itself. Your hands wander more than ever as you traverse the mansion, they run down the banister, across the pretty wallpaper, even taking a swipe at a shelf or two, and still, they’re clean. Not a smudge or spec of dirt on your fingers. 

    Strange, but not unexplainable. Maybe she had scheduled a cleaning service to take place after her death or something. You didn’t know. But a week goes by. Then two and then three, and everything is still spotless. And that was the least of it. Lights seemed to turn off by themselves at night. Things that you’re sure you heard fall were placed upright. If you forgot to turn the oven off, it would already be cool by the time you ran back into the kitchen- and the house constantly smelled like sulfur and brimstone. At this point, you’ve called the fire department so many times worried about a gas leak that they think you’ve gone crazy. 

    You just felt… Uneasy. Like you were being watched.

    “I feel like I’m losing my mind, Jean.” You watch as the redhead tries to hide a smile on the other side of the Facetime call, and you can’t help but pout a little when she inevitably laughs. Your little image on the top part of the camera must look rather ridiculous, hands tangled in some string lights you had found in the closet. As strangely organized and spotless as everything was, it seems that the Christmas lights in the back of the closet weren’t so lucky. Yay for you. 

    “Look, you’re just overthinking things. Don’t stress out about it.” Jean says, ever the voice of reason. You know she’s probably right. “Besides, you’ve been through a lot lately. It’s not abnormal for stress to do weird things to the mind.”

    “Yeah, I guess so.” You mumble. Detangling these lights is beginning to be a bit trickier than you first expected them to be. Each tangle and loop seems to be interconnected, and no matter how gently or firmly you are with the cords, another knot seems to form with every probable success. You sigh in annoyance, and Jean raises an eyebrow at you. 

    “Do I need to ask about the Christmas lights?” You’re about ready to give up on them when she asks, dramatically dropping them in your lap.

    “Well, remember how I was gonna throw that big Halloween party this year?” Jean hums in response. “Well, turns out that all the decorations I had for the apartment only cover like, an eighth of the house. I’ve been rummaging around in the closets all day to try and find something that might work and all I’ve been able to find is this.” You hold up the old, tangled lights for her to see.

    “That’s weird. With what I know about your Aunt, you’d think that she’d have a ton of decorations.” Jean mentions. You groan loudly, pressing your palms into the round edges of your eyesockets in frustration. 

    “Exactly! She loved Halloween, and with a house like this, there’s no way she’d just leave it bare. I’ve raided practically every closet and storage room in the house and haven’t found anything at all.” You almost shout the words, exasperated at this point. You knew for a fact Aunt Maude had to have something. It didn’t matter if it was even one of those awful animatronic jumping spiders at this point, you’d take anything if it meant you wouldn’t have to tap into your inheritance to decorate this big ass house (because there was no way in hell you weren’t going to decorate, you’d never disgrace your Aunt’s memory like that.). Jean is quiet for a moment, looking sympathetic through the screen. To be honest, as much as you value Jean’s advice, you’re beginning to think she’s got nothing to help you until-

    “Are you sure there’s not an attic or anything?”

    The thought makes you pause.

    “Oh my god, I’m an actual idiot.” You practically shriek the words, quickly standing from the floor and shoving the Christmas lights to the side as you run to get some shoes on. The attic! God, you feel so stupid for not thinking of it before! All you had to do was find the access hatch!

    “Just be careful though! Even though the house is renovated, that doesn’t mean-”

    “I’ll call you later, Okay? I’m gonna go look upstairs!”

    “No no no, don’t-”

    It takes you forever to find that damn attic. You’d think that it would be easy to find, seeing that it’s sort of an important structure in this house, but nooo. It’s been almost a month since you moved in, and yet you still feel like you’re lost while you wander around the third floor. How hard could it be to find a simple hatch? You feel like you’re looking in all the wrong places, and you know you probably are. You’re pacing around one of the third-floor bedrooms looking at the ceiling when a noise from the billiards room across the hall makes you freeze. 

    Were those footsteps?

    No, you were home alone. It couldn’t be. 

    Still, the sound leaves you on edge. You stalk across the hallway, stopping at the door to the other room as you briefly debate on how to open it. A small shuffle from the ceiling makes you jump a little, and you quickly decide, Fuck it. We ball. 

    You swing the door open with a bit more force than necessary and find the room… empty. Right. Of course, it was. You sigh in relief, running a stressed hand through your scalp as you take in the sight of the room for the first time since your original walk-through of the home. 

    In your brief scan of the room, you manage to spot a small string hanging right above the pool table, swinging back and forth. You slowly look up, and there it is. The fucking attic hatch. 

    “Oh god damn it. Was it really that easy to find?” You mumble to yourself, wondering if you really were just that stupid. 

    It doesn’t take a lot of time to move the pool table over so that you can open the latch and pull the rickety old ladder down. It looked more modern than most of the house, but it was easy to tell it was about as old as you were. You take a moment to just stare into the black hole in the ceiling, wondering if all this was really worth it. Well, you already spent all this time looking for the thing, so…

    You’re a little extra careful as you climb the ladder up into the attic, using the flashlight in your phone to light the way the further you go. The attic is a little bit dustier than the rest of the house, but to be honest, it was cleaner than you were expecting. It's dark and cramped, but once you fully enter you find that you can at least stand up to your full height. The excitement of finding the place has begun to wear off, and you start to feel a little flighty as you look around and the light from your flashlight shifts. This is okay. It’s fine. You’re fine. Maybe she had lights installed, right? You look up at the roof and are thankful to see those long, industrial fluorescent lights screwed to the ceiling. Thank god. 

    It takes a minute of stumbling and carefully following the wires to a corner of the attic, doing your best not to trip over anything along the way, and you find a small light switch in the corner of the room. You breathe a sigh of relief as you flick it on, and the lights overhead blink and light up. That’s a bit better!

    You find that Aunt Maude’s attic is cluttered with various random items, some older, others a bit more modern. The exercise bike and the Zumba tapes made you laugh a little as you passed them by, while some older cloth dolls and bunnies just made you uncomfortable. You’re not really sure where to start the search, so you just walk around for a minute. One of the lights overhead is starting to flicker a little, and you’re inwardly hoping that there’s no faulty wiring or anything that might start a fire when your foot catches on something.

    “Oh Shit!”

    There’s not a lot of time for you to catch yourself when you fall, eating absolute shit as you fall face-first into a stack of boxes. You smash your nose into something particularly hard when you land, and there’s a variety of shapes sticking into your sides that have sprouted from the smashed boxes below you. Ow, ow ow! God damnit! This is what you get for not listening to Jean. You feel a little dizzy as you sit up amongst the boxes, holding your nose tightly while you wonder if you just broke it. Your eyes are blurry from the pain, and it takes a second for you to fully come to.

    “What the hell did I just fall into?” You’re blinking away the blurriness as the sight in front of you finally starts to clear, A bunch of broken boxes now greeting you. Boxes that now had a bunch of plastic bones sticking out of the torn sides. You make a fairly embarrassing noise of excitement when you realize you had found exactly what you were looking for in the first place. The Halloween decorations!! Thank god! You were so unbelievably happy to find them that you couldn’t help but reach forward and look through the boxes immediately. 

    After thoroughly inspecting the contents, you realize that there were about eight large boxes of Halloween decorations in total. Motherfucking eight! This was perfect! The only thing was that there was still one little issue: getting them downstairs. You try not to think about those rickety ladders too hard as you move each box to a place a little easier to get to. Your back is already aching when you’re done for the moment, so you decide to sit down on the floor and lean back a little, catching your breath while looking at those eight, somewhat heavy boxes you were gonna have to fool around with in just a moment. Your foot nudges something as you do so. Hm. 

    Sitting up a little bit, you can see that it’s a floorboard, just sticking out a little bit. Oh! Guess that’s what you tripped over earlier. You try and press it back down with your foot, and that definitely doesn't work. Damn. Hopefully, you could find a hammer or something to tack it back down. You scoot over to get a better look when you notice that there’s something underneath, a dark blue color just faintly catching your eye. Curious, you lift the board a little, and after a tug or two, it gives way.

    You find an old, leatherbound book underneath. It’s got no clear name on the cover or the spine, simply a rune or emblem of sorts burned into the upper left corner. Finding it a bit strange, you flip open the cover, thinking that it must be a diary or something left by the original owners as a time capsule of sorts- but it’s not. Every page in the book is blank except for the very last one. This book is not what it has been. When the Veil strains thin will the ink be seen.

    Weird, but okay. You assume it’s a novelty or a trick or something, but it looks spooky enough, so you gently set it in one of the more empty boxes of Halloween decorations. Now it was time for the hard part.

    You drag one box at a time to the ladder, and looking at the size of them vs. the skinny steps below you, you wonder just how the hell Aunt Maude got these up here in the first place. Just thinking about getting these downstairs is intimidating, but you were never a quitter. One by one, you carefully take each box down, making sure to never carry more than you can handle and to keep a good grip on the ladder no matter what. After about 20 minutes, you get about halfway through. Four boxes down, four to go. Your arms are getting a bit tired and you’re a bit sweaty from the lack of AC in the attic, but you think you’ve got it. 

     On the fifth box of decorations, your foot slips. You gasp in shock, your stomach flipping as you fall backward- a split second of absolute terror as you fall. You’re terrified that you’re gonna die, and that Jean will never forgive you and you’d never get to throw that stupid party you were doing all this work for in the first place. 

    The air is knocked from your lungs from something that felt much more like a catch than it did the floor. You don't know what’s going on for a moment, eyes shut tight as the shock begins to wear off and you realize that you’re fine… Wait. Hold on. Someone had definitely caught you, and unless Jean had snuck in…

    To be honest, whatever you were expecting when you opened your eyes was very, very much wrong. Your heart is beating a million times a minute, a chill running through you when you finally register who is above you. Or what, rather. The first thing you see are his eyes. Yellow from pupil to scelera, almost glowing in the low light of the billiards room. He’s more fuzz than skin, blue in color, with devilishly sharp canine teeth he reveals with a sheepish smile.

    “Hallo?”

    He flinches when you shriek, doing his best not to drop you as you squirm out of his arms. Your knees give out the moment your feet hit the floor, and you scramble back, grabbing the first box you can and throwing anything you can find at him. 

    “Sorry- Sorry! I had not mean to scare you!” He holds his arms up to block each decoration you throw at him. A few plastic spiders, a zip lock of polyester faux webbing, and a little floral crow or two. You can hardly even think at the moment.

    “Stop! Please stop! I didn't want to let you fall!” He flinches at each item although none of them are very heavy. You’re running out of things to throw, stalling for a moment as you debate lunging for one of the other boxes.

    “WHAT ARE YOU?!” You shriek again.  He opens his mouth to speak as he takes a step back, and you flinch as you see something move in the corner of your eye- a tail. A spaded fucking demon tail. You had to be losing it. Having hallucinations or a nightmare or something- but as it turns out, you are definitely a fight-over-freeze kind of person, and your body kicks in before your brain has caught up. The box of bones was next to go. A hand, and then two small rib cages and a slightly heavy bundle of newspaper fly through the air.

     “Careful!” He flat-out ignores the other items, going wide-eyed at the ball of newspaper and lunging to catch it in time. He takes an audible sigh of relief when he does, and says something that makes you pause from pelting him with any more Halloween shit.

    “You’re certainly Maude’s kin, but I doubt she’d appreciate you throwing her breakables.” He halfheartedly jokes, an awkward smile on his face. You’re mid-throw with another bone, hand frozen in the air with a range of emotions going on in your head.

    “Excuse me?” You ask, possibly a little overdramatic at the moment. He goes to move, probably to set the wad of newspaper down, but you raise your hand again as if to throw, making a face at him that’s a little more goofy than it was intimidating. He hands the newspaper off to his tail, raising his hands to show that he means no harm.

    “Maude? The woman who lived here before?”

    “Yeah, I got that part!” You cry out, hands shaking a bit from adrenaline. “How do you know my Aunt Maude? And what are you!? Why are you here!?” The rapid-fire questions seem to interrupt him every time he opens his mouth, but he doesn’t seem to lose his patience with you. He very calmly places the wad of newspaper on top of a box that happens to be near, and you eye him suspiciously as he does. He sits down next to it, the tip of his tail swaying just slightly.

    “Maybe we should take a step back, Ja? I can explain everything, I promise.” He says, patting the space next to him. “Herkommen. It might be better to sit for this.” His smile is polite, and if this situation were any different, you might find his kind demeanor charming. But the situation isn’t different. He was a stranger in your house. A blue, possible-demon stranger, with a tail and what you think looks like small, pointed horns sticking out from the thick curls that cover his hairline. You eye him suspiciously, halfway wondering if this was a trick of sorts. He’s looking at you expectantly, waiting for you to sit. Eventually, you do, but not next to him, definitely not. You sit down right where you are, hesitant and fidgety as he begins to speak.

    Of course, it would be your Aunt to summon a demon to aid her with her ridiculous (lovely) house in her failing health, instead of hiring a fucking nurse, or an assistant, or just selling the damn thing. Of course, it would be your Aunt to leave you the house with said demon in it, and not tell you. OF COURSE, It would be your aunt to tell him to take it slow while introducing himself so he wouldn't freak you out, and OF-FREAKING-COURSE, it would be you who almost killed yourself on accident and completely derail that plan. Jesus, what was worse? The fact that your aunt was apparently an actual witch who summoned demons in her elderly years, or that she didn’t explain any of this to you before leaving you the house. You didn't know how to unpack all of this, hell, you weren’t even done unpacking all of your things. 

    Well, It’s not like you could (or would) kick him out really, but in the coming weeks, you notice that Kurt is really more of a butler than a roommate.

    He’s been cleaning even before you knew he existed, but now that the grand reveal was over, you see him around the house much more often. He helps you with groceries, cooks for you when you’re exhausted, he takes the trash out sometimes too, when the sun goes down. He doesn’t go outside in the front yard very much to avoid being seen, but every once in a while, he’ll take a walk with you in the backyard. You were hesitant of him for a good bit, but you’d be a liar if you said he didn’t have a way of worming his way into your good graces. He’s… sweet. And easy to get along with. He effortlessly fits into your life, and you find yourself excited to see him when you wake up every day. You get along so well that it makes you wonder if your aunt had known that you would when she summoned him, or… you know what, probably not. 

    You learn more about him as the weeks go by. His past, his hopes for the future. You learn that his father is a demon lord of some sort, and his mothers are a bit more complicated. All three are dangerous, and all three are trying to find him. 

    “Is that why you took the pact with my Aunt?” You ask, late one night. Both of you have drinks in hand, leaning back on a pile of pillows and cushions you found in the tower room. It’s comfortable, if a bit warm. The two of you are a little flushed, words surprisingly clear as you speak. Despite being a demon, you find that Kurt is a bit of a lightweight. An accident on your part, having poured the drinks a little stronger thinking that he had a bit more tolerance. 

    “Mostly.” Kurt hums. He’s fully leaning against you, head resting snugly against your own with his tail curled around your abdomen. His horns are resting against your temple in a rather uncomfortable manner, but you don’t mention it. He takes another drink.

    “I don’t know how she knew. Or if she knew, really. Magic is specific to each demon, like a fingerprint of sorts, just a bit easier to track. When a demon makes a pact, their magic is filtered through the pact-bearer- which creates a different kind of magic. I needed a place to hide, she was offering me a home. It was easy.” His words slur a little where his accent tends to come out a bit stronger.

    “Was that all she offered you? A place to stay?”

    “That and…” He trails off for a quick moment, clearing his throat to change the subject. “Well, anyway. I was desperate, and she seemed kind, so I agreed.” You nod as you think it over yourself. You can’t tell if he’s just drunk or it's a sensitive subject, but he can’t just have accepted the many tasks of cleaning and caring for an old woman for something less in return. Was it that easy for demons to make pacts like that? Surely, she wouldn’t have offered him her soul or anything.

    You open your mouth to ask him more questions, but when a light snore reaches your ears, you know he’s fallen asleep. You can't help but smile, a warmth in your chest that you don’t really think is from the alcohol.

    A few days later, it’s Saturday, October 31st. After some long weekends and late nights, you finally have the whole house decorated, inside and out! You were so beyond excited. The whole place looked like it had come straight out of a Halloween catalog! You were so proud of how amazing it looked, but you could never have taken all the credit. Kurt was a big help, both with the placement and creativity of the many decorations. Everything that had to be put outside had to be done so at night so that Kurt wouldn’t be seen, and sure, sometimes you would wake up and see a few things were crooked, but at least it was fun! You’ve never felt so invigorated and filled with Halloween spirit, especially now, a few hours before the party. You’re shaking some full-sized candy bars into a big-ass plastic cauldron, and Kurt walks in with his arms full of Party favors for tonight.

    “You know, I’m not sure you could give away all of these if you tried!” Kurt laughs, setting them all down on the coffee table in the sitting room. It's a bunch of plastic spider rings, vampire teeth, squishy skeletons, slap bracelets, and more. All sorted into their own neat ziplock bags. The apartment complex you used to live at never really got any trick-or-treaters, so you had a lot of leftover goodies you were happy to finally use. You let out an excited giggle, taking one of the bags and emptying it into the cauldron. 

    “You’ll be surprised! With the neighborhood that’s just around the corner, I know for a fact that we’ll have plenty of kids come by!” You almost sing. Kurt smiles at you, taking a bag of his own to empty. 

    “Don’t get your hopes up, Schatz. It’s an old building, and rather scary from afar. Maude never really had a lot of visitors on Halloween.” You pout at his words, before tilting your head like you’re considering them as you continue to fill the cauldron. 

    “True, but Aunt Maude never tried posting on neighborhood Facebook groups and hyping up PTA moms before. Besides, the house is scary, but that's what the lights are for!” Kurt shakes his head, laughing as you voice the thought. You mayyy have gone overboard this year. A few extra strands of lights, blow-ups, and animatronics never hurt anybody, right? I mean, with most of your expenses taken care of due to the paid-off mansion you live in, you were able to spend a little bit more of your personal spending money on Halloween. Your new home was a whole-ass Halloween attraction, and a good bit of the neighborhood thought so too! After posting online, you were pleasantly surprised with the positive feedback from the surrounding neighborhoods, and had even personally met a few kind neighbors since!

    Kurt however, couldn’t risk being seen, and had to hide every time. Most people would freak out, just like you did, and the attention isn’t really a good thing for him. The thought sends you on the same spiral that you had been on for the past week, and the smile slowly slips off your face as Kurt takes the pot from you and begins to mix the goodies all together.

    “...You’re sure you don’t want to come tonight?” You ask, vulnerability shining through your voice. Kurt looks up from the task, brow furrowed. He opens his mouth, then closes it, then looks back down again.

    “I don’t want to scare anyone.” He says softly, making your frown deepen.

    “You won’t! I promise you won’t. None of my friends scare easily- and besides! It’s Halloween. Everyone will just think you’re in a costume!” You try to make the last bit of the plea happy and convincing, but it doesn’t seem to work very well. Kurt doesn’t look at you until he’s done with the pot, placing it back on the coffee table. When he does, his smile doesn’t seem to reach his eyes,

    “I’ll be fine, Schatz. I promise. It will be easier for me to just hide. I can easily enjoy the party from a distance.” The words aren’t very convincing, but before you can say anything else, the doorbell rings. Kurt dusts himself off as he stands, tail swaying as he pulls you to your feet. 

    “Looks like your guests are early. Make sure to have fun tonight, Ja? I’ll see you later.” Kurt squeezes your hands, and you try not to look too disappointed. After all, it was his decision, and you don’t want him to feel forced to show himself when so much could go wrong. You give him a moment to head back upstairs, disappearing like he used to do back in the beginning. You can’t help but sigh a little, but there’s a hesitant knock on the door instead of the doorbell this time, and you know you can’t just stand here and ignore it.

    You don’t really know who is going to be on the other side of the door, with it being mid-afternoon and still a hot minute before the party actually starts, but the bloody, red-haired Carrie on the other side of the door brightens your spirits the moment you see her.

    “Jean!” You cheer, rushing to give her a hug that she warmly returns.

    “Happy Halloween!” Jean says before pulling away. “I hope you don’t mind, I thought I’d come by a little early to help you set up.” 

    “Are you kidding? I have a whole ass kitchen of food I still need to plate.” You step aside to let Jean in as she laughs. You were originally to do most of the prep with Kurt, and although Jean is technically interrupting, you try not to let it get you down. This is the first time you’ve seen her in a long while, and you were already rather lucky that Halloween was falling on a Saturday this year- most of your friends/guests all working at the prep school nearby. 

    “Am I the first one here?” Jean asks as you lead her to the kitchen, and you hum in response.

    “Yup, It’s been just me all day.” You’ve never been the best liar, but you think you’re a little convincing at least. 

    “Funny, I could have sworn I heard a man’s voice when I rang the doorbell.” Jean’s smug tone almost makes you stop in place. If you were even a little convinced that some of this house was soundproof, those hopes were dashed instantly. You smile nervously, trying to play it off as you pass the sitting room, the TV giving you an idea.

    “Whaaaattt? No. I mean- I’ve had the TV in the sitting room running all day, so maybe that’s what you heard.” You say, trying to wave her off. Unfortunately, Jean had the ungodly ability to pick up your anxiety like a goddamn bloodhound.

    “Really? There’s not some mystery boyfriend you’re not telling me about?” Jean teases. You get stiff and quiet immediately, biting your lip as you reach the kitchen. She takes the silence as an affirmative answer, and she’s not exactly far off. Jean cocks an eyebrow at your nervous stance, chuckling at the sweat that practically beads at your brow. You try to hide the flush of your cheeks by busying yourself with setting out different snack foods to organize and avoiding her eyes, but it doesn’t work. 

    “Oh come on, I’m not blind. You’re over there blushing like a student. Who’s the lucky guy?” Jean asks, helping you with the task. You begin to open a back of chips, looking away from Jean’s knowing gaze.

    “I- We’re- We’re not really a thing. He’s just a friend.” You say, heart thundering in your chest as you pray Kurt isn’t lurking nearby. You’re struggling with the bag still, and Jean holds her hands out as an offer. You hand it to her without a second thought, and she opens the bag easily.

    “And is this friend coming to the party tonight?” She asks. You stall for a moment. All you can hear are the soft clinks of the chips hitting the inside of one of the bowls you had set out. You’re not quite sure what to say to that, or even if you had anything to say. Your hesitance makes her frown, looking up at you cautiously. When she puts the bag back down, she reaches out to take your hand. 

    “Well, if he does stop by, I’ll be glad to meet him.” Her tone is reassuring, and you muster a small smile for her. Tonight was supposed to be fun, so you’d do your best to enjoy it.

    The night goes by busier than you ever would have expected. Everyone comes dressed to the absolute nines in their costumes, and although a few were lacking in imagination in your opinion- Logan specifically- everyone looked amazing. You quickly realize that It’s harder to be a good hostess in this big ass house than you would think. Between the food, trying to catch up with friends, and the doorbell constantly ringing with practically a line down your driveway of more trick-or-treaters than you’ve ever seen, you were constantly busy. Lucky for you, you had good people around you. Logan and Scott thankfully took over cooking hamburgers and hotdogs- and Jean promised to keep them from butting heads. Ororo and Xavier happily volunteered to hand out the candy when you couldn’t, and you had Jubilee to count on when it came to the music. The house was busy, people were smiling, and overall, everything was going really well. 

    The only downside was that you hadn’t seen Kurt since Jean arrived. Sure, it was busy, but every time you managed to pry yourself away from the crowd and look for him in his usual hidey-spots, you never found him. He’s good at being sneaky, I mean he has to be, right? Being blue and all, but his consistent absence makes you a little nervous. He’s probably just being extra cautious, and you can’t blame him for that.

    After a few drinks have been had, spirits are high, and some different party games you had planned were finished, it was time to vote for best costume. Almost everyone had gone outside, enjoying the yard and the house in all its festive glory, but you stayed inside to count the votes. Kitty and Illiyana had volunteered to help you, and it takes a surprising amount of time to count the various strips of colored construction paper. In the end, it seems like it was really more of a “most ridiculous” costume contest instead. Jubilee, dressed as the one in only Kool-aide-man in the biggest plastic fishbowl you’d ever seen, won best costume by a single point, with Kevin’s fantastic costume of Professor Xavier himself a single point behind. You try your best not to laugh, knowing that they are not going to be too happy about that. You had bought a light up-sash and a plastic crown for the winner, stopping to grab them before stepping outside to try and find the teen. 

    Somehow, you can’t find her. I mean, You think it would be easy to find a huge red bowl with a face on it, but she’s not outside at all. When you ask Hank, he says he’s pretty sure she went back inside, so inside you go. You’re starting to get a little anxious at this point, not finding her on the first, or second floor. The third floor is completely dark, aside from the colorful light coming from the windows. You call out her name with no response, and then thinking that Kurt may have seen her, you call out his name next. Nothing. He’s never done that before. Sure, there was a lot going on, but normally he’d at least try to answer you. You creep from door to door upstairs, without any luck, when a muffled sound from the tower room falls on your ears. It makes you pause for a moment. It might be nothing, but you remember telling Jubilee about the room earlier, so you figure it wouldn’t hurt to check.

    You’re hesitant, but then there's another muffled cry, and this time, you know it’s him. You slowly creep up over to the door, and then up the stairs to the room. Minutes feel like hours, and when you finally get there, you find Kurt, on his knees and doubled over in pain with his hands pressed to his chest.

    “Oh my god, Kurt!” You cry out, running over to him. His face is scrunched up in a wince, his eyes shooting open when you try to help him sit up. 

     “No, no- You can't be here- You need to go,” Kurt’s voice comes out between heaving breaths. Your hands are shaking, panicked as you spot the blood seeping through his shirt. He hisses in pain when you touch the spot, as if he’s been burned, and when his hands quickly tug your wrist away- his neckline shifts. There’s a brand over his heart. Etched into him as if it were carved with a scalpel.

    “What happened? What's happening?” The words come out faster than your brain can catch up. His nails are elongated, razor-sharp points almost digging into the skin of your wrist as hold hold shifts. The brand glows as another wave of pain washes over him. Those small points that normally hide in his curly hair have grown, too. His horns sweep over his head, prominent and black at the very tips. He cries out, slumping forward onto your shoulder as the pain passes.

    “You need to go. Bitte- I need you to leave.” Kurt almost whimpers, practically limp against you as he tries to catch his breath. “It’s Azazel, my Vater. He’s found me. He’s using the brand to track me down. It’s too dangerous for you to be here.” He stiffens as another wave of pain hits him, and you do your best to keep upright. There’s so much running through your head, concern, confusion. You don't know how to help him besides holding up up and it's killing you to see him like this.

    “I don’t understand- I thought he couldn’t find you unless you used magic?” Kurt looks ashamed when you ask the question, tucking his head further into your shoulder. It's only then that you actually take a look at the room around you. There's an open book on the ground, runes and lettering you don't understand scatter the pages, along with a diagram of a devil that seemingly shifts into something more human and back at every shift of your eye. When you see the worn cover, you recognize it as the book beneath the floorboards- and you finally understand that it's a spellbook.

    “I… I wanted to join you.” Kurt whispers, unable to look you in the eye. “My Mutter was skilled in transmutation so I…” He trails off, shaking his head and wincing when another sharp pain shoots through him.

    “It was stupid. I’m sorry. I should never have touched it without a pact.”

    “If you make one now, will the brand disappear?” 

    Kurt visibly pauses. Sitting up as best he can to get a look at your face. You're still panicking, but overall you feel mortified. Ashamed. Did you do this? Were you so instant that he came tonight that he would risk everything just to do so? What was wrong with you- and why on God's green earth would he actually try to go through with it? You're beginning to tear up, swallowing down your thoughts as you offer the only thing you can think of. Kurt doesn't answer you at first, his yellow eyes wide with shock as he stares at you. 

    “If you make a new pact, will you be able to dispel the tracker?” You repeat, trying so hard to seem confident and self-assured through your shaky voice. Kurt’s face shifts into something you can't quite place, and he shakes his head.

    “I can’t ask that of you-”

    “Kurt, just answer me!” You’re too stubborn to let it go. A trait that you and Maude often shared. Kurt takes your hands into his own, squeezing them, and shakes his head. He's insistent in his own right, conveying his worry and fears- not for his own future, but yours.

    “This isn’t the way you want to gain a pact! Maude had made preparations. She had charms and protections and rules in place! There’s no time for us to do the same. If you make a pact with me now with nothing? It would bind your soul to mine for eternity. You would have no rest, no peace- no Heaven. I won’t-”

    “I love you!” Kurt sucks in a sharp breath at your exclamation. Tears have started to roll down your face no matter how hard you were trying to blink them away. 

    “I don’t care about eternity, or rest- or any of that. I love you. Fuck- I know I haven’t even known you three months- I just…” You trail off, looking away from him in embarrassment that all of this had to come out in such bullshit circumstances.

    “Please just make the pact.”

    Kurt’s eyes soften, almost scanning your own as if he’s trying to figure out if you’re telling the truth. He uses the back of his hand to wipe the tears from your face, careful of his claws, and then suddenly, he kisses you. It’s easy for you to melt into his desperate kiss, a hand coming up to cup his face as he pulls you closer with his tail. The strong limb pulls you into a straddle across his lap as he takes your free hand in his own. When he breaks the kiss, he does so with a mumbled apology as he takes your free hand. You feel a sudden stinging pain as a careful claw slices across your palm, and he apologizes again as he presses it over his heart, directly against the bleeding brand. Both of you hiss at the sudden, blinding pain as his hand continues to press your palm tightly to the wound.

    There’s an energy that begins to fill your body, like an electric current that links the two of you together. Your skin is buzzing, your head spinning as you fall against his shoulder in a mirror of his own position earlier. Kurt’s new claws dig into his own skin, and he grits his teeth as the pain from the brand grows more and more- before everything stops.

    You wish you could say there was some spark, or spoken words, or something, but it all ends almost anti-climatically. Everything stops. Everything is quiet- almost too quiet. Whatever vertigo you are feeling begins to wear off, and when you feel like you can finally lift your head, you look at Kurt.

    He’s smiling at you, horns reduced, fingernails shortened, with your hand still pressed over his heart- the brand gone and the skin healed on both of you

    “Is it over?”

    “It’s over.” He confirms, and you sigh in relief, pressing your forehead against his own. Kurt doesn't take long before he’s pressing kisses all over your face, holding you still as you giggle and squirm. You know there’s more to be said between you, but it’s been one hell of a night, and right now you’re enjoying the comfortable silence between Kurt’s fluttering kisses- until someone calls your name from the tower stairs.

    “Hey, You in there?” Jean’s voice echoes through the space, and you sit straight up, heart given a jumpstart as Jean comes into view- you don’t have time to move before she gets there.

    “You’ll never guess where we found Jube….” She trails off when she sees you and Kurt. “Oh?” Your face is as red as it can get, panic shooting through you at the realization that she’s seen the actual demon living in your home. All he does though is smile and wave, although a bit nervously. Jean raises an eyebrow, beginning to smile just as you realize the position the two of you are in.

    “Nice costume,” Jean says, and after a moment of confusion, you realize she’s talking to Kurt. Kurt looks relieved, shoulders relaxing underneath you, and you clear your throat.

    “Jean, this is Kurt.” 

    The air settles in the Tower room once it’s empty, the sound of the party downstairs is muffled through the floorboards, but still present nonetheless. There’s almost a giggle in the air, and the book flips from page to page before it closes shut, and the ink fades as the grandfather clock in the downstairs hallway strikes midnight. A pact is completed, and the energy in the air begins to fade. After all, a soul can’t leave the mortal plane until its final business has been finished, and Maude had not promised her own soul to the friendly blue devil, but no one said she couldn’t offer something else- a soulmate. 

[exhaslo]

Kinktober Day 6- Miguel x Reader (Shower Sex)

        The sound of running water always made you calm. Whether it was a thunderstorm outside or just your shower, you felt at peace at the sound. It helped you relax, think and breathe after a long day of work. Today had been particularly hard on you. Everything that could have went wrong, did, and all of the customers were so rude. You had felt like crying not even half way into your shift, but you sucked it up and kept smiling.

"Baby, what's wrong?" Miguel asked as you entered your shared home. You looked up at your fiancé, tears threatening to spill, "Come here,"

        Wrapping you in his warm embrace, Miguel let you sob. You vented about your day, to which he just listened. You and Miguel had been together for over a year. You knew about his secret and his family life and he knew yours. Sometimes it was hard to spend time with Miguel since he always had to save someone; to stop someone. Miguel was worried about you drifting from him and ended up proposing to you. Of course, it was an immediate yes due to your undying love for him.

        Let's not forget the sex. Once Miguel told you about how he became Spiderman, everything made sense. His heighten abilities, his strength, his goddamn stamina. Miguel was a beast in bed. Everything you did turned the man on. Some days he fucked you go good that you could not go into work the next day. Those you had to limit him to when you had off. Miguel was not shy to let you know his needs. He also made sure that you were taken care of too. His love for you was unmatched.

"Thanks, Miggy. I'm going to shower." You whispered. Miguel stroked your eyes, wiping any remaining tears,

"De acuerdo, bebé. Me uniré a ti en un momento. (Okay, baby. I'll join you in a bit.)" He kissed the top of your head.

        You smiled as he went to order some food. You loved it when he spoke Spanish. You didn't understand it really. Miguel was teaching you. Either way, you could hear the love in his tone. Miguel knew that the shower was your calming time. He always let you take as long as you needed to relax. Always making sure that you were okay.

        Stepping into the bathroom, you turned the water on, making sure it was burning hot. Stripping your clothes you, you hopped in, enjoying the steam. The sensation of scorching hot water touching your drained skin was pleasant. Every frustrated itch in your body disappeared with the steam. Once you had your fill of heat, you brought the water down to a warmer temperature. Once you did, you heard the door open,

"Miguel?" You hummed, poking your head out of the shower. Miguel pecked your lips,

"Mind if I help you relax?" He said lowly.

        Unable to say no to him, you shyly watched as Miguel stripped. Miguel always let you enjoy your showers in peace, that and with how different your schedules were, the two of you were rarely home at the same time for a shower. This was a first. You stared at his large shadow from behind the shower curtain. Would the two of you fit in the same shower? The thought never occurred to you. Miguel was far taller than you.

"Todavía te ves tenso, ¿por qué no te ayudo? (You still look tense, why don't I help you out?)" Miguel finally stepped into the shower. His large hands rubbed your shoulder, earning a soft mewl from you, "Mi bebé no merece estar estresado. ¿Por qué no te doy una razón para quedarte en casa? Me aseguraré de que no te muevas durante la próxima semana. (My baby doesn't deserve to be stressed. Why don't I give you a reason to stay home? I'll make sure you don't move for the next week.)" He whispered in your ear.

        All you understood was his cute nickname for you and something about stress. You leaned back into his chest as he released some knots against your shoulders. This felt heavenly. Miguel's hands moved from your shoulders to around your front. A shiver ran up your spine as he teased you. His large hands proceeding to grab your breasts. You bit your lower lip, trembling against him as he massaged your boobs and pitched your nipples.

"Stressed here too?" He whispered in your ear. You leaned against him more as the water made your body slippery for him to play with,

"It has been....a rough day," You squeezed out.

        Miguel rested his head against the crook of your neck, swirling his tongue around it. You whimpered softly, your legs starting to rub against each other. He sucked against your neck, pitching your nipples a bit rougher now. There were jolts sparking all over your body, waiting for his next move. 

        Miguel paid close attention to your body language. Leaving his marks on your neck, he moved over to the other side. He felt your body arch into his as his hand trailed down to your pussy. The running water making your skin feel so smooth. Making you feel so wet for him. Poking his fingers against your delicate bud, he hummed as you arched forward instead. Making circular motions, Miguel groaned lowly as your ass pressed against his cock.

        You had the prettiest moans. All Miguel was doing was rubbing your clit and you were already crying for him. Diving deeper, Miguel slid two fingers inside your already throbbing hole. He turned your head to capture your lips in a rough kiss while pumping his fingers inside you. You body kept arching forward, moaning into his mouth. Miguel pressed you against the wall, giving you something to lean on while he played with your body.

"Tan apretado alrededor de mis dedos. Necesito relajarte. Que te jodan muy bien. (So tight around my fingers. I need to loosen you up. Fuck you really good.)"

"Yes, Miggy! I need you," You cried out.

        All you really understood was him saying something about need and really good. You figured he was asking you if you needed him to make you feel good. You whimpered as Miguel removed his fingers. You were so close. Your body was burning and in desperate need for that release. Miguel pressed you down against the shower wall, sticking your hips closer to him.

"Mierda, te ves tan bien ahora mismo. Como si todo tu cuerpo estuviera mojado por mí. Quiere que te llene con mi polla. (Shit, you look so good right now. As if your whole body is wet for me. Wants me to fill you with my dick.)"

        Your hair started to fall down your face since it was getting wet. Trying to turn your head, you cried out as Miguel started to insert himself. Your hands trying to grip onto the shower wall as you felt his thick cock stretch you out. You remembered the first time you had sex with him. Never had you felt so good. Miguel still made it feel like the first time you had sex every time. He always knew the right spots. Always overstimulated you. Always made you feel so full. 

        Miguel cussed lowly as he slid his wet hair back. His hips pressed up against yours as he felt your pussy clench against his dick. No matter how many times he entered you, you always felt so good. Relishing in the moment, Miguel moved at the sound of your begs and cries. He held your hips in place, slapping his hips against yours. The wet sounds from the water making it sound sexier and dirtier than normal. Your soaked body glistering before him like a trophy.

"Mírate aferrándote a la querida vida. ¿Mi polla se siente tan bien dentro de ti? Tu bonito y pequeño coño me está chupando por más. (Look at you holding onto dear life. My dick feel that good inside you? Your pretty little pussy just sucking me for more.)" His voice getting lower before slapping your ass.

"Ah~ Miguel~" You moaned at.

        The sounds of your moans were getting louder and sloppier as you felt your high come back. You body burning as Miguel pounded your poor cunt. His rough and deep thrusts sending you over the edge each time. Your breathing hitched as he slapped your ass again, making you cum hard. You cried softly as you squeezed him. Miguel's thrusts did not slow down, causing you to shake. You could barely hold onto the slippery shower wall. 

        You whined as Miguel pressed you against the wall, spreading you legs a bit more. He rubbed your clit, kissing the back of your neck as he brutally slapped his dick into you. You felt him fasten, knowing that he was close. Crying out a moan as he forced another orgasm out of you, you trembled as you felt him cum inside.

"I love you, baby," Miguel whispered in your ear, "Are you still stressed?" You felt him smirk.

"Mhm," You responded without a thought.

        Miguel licked his lips as he turned you around, your back against the wall now. He wrapped your legs around his waist as he entered you once you. You moaned his name, your arms wrapped around his neck. Miguel held you up by your ass, kissing your chest as he tried to feel you deeper.

"Cum for me again, baby. Let your stress be fucked away." Miguel groaned lowly as you clenched him once more, "That's right, fuck...don't think about anything but me,"

"Migueeeeel~" You cried out, shaking in pleasure.

"The shower made your body more relaxed, more loose. Such an easy fuck. Baby, you should let me fuck you in the shower everyday. Does that sound nice?" Miguel started to babble, feeling himself about to cum again.

"Y-Yes! Yes, Miguel! E-Everyday!" You cried out.

        Miguel bit your lower lip as he released another heavy load inside you. Your face was so fucked out, just the way he liked it. He loved it when you were cock drunk on him. He knew he relieved both of your stress. Resting his head against your shoulder, Miguel let out a heavy sigh as he pulled out.

"I...don't want to work tomorrow," You whined, grinding your hips against Miguel's, "Please don't stop,"

        All you wanted was Miguel to keep fucking you. His eyes sparkled as he complied to your wishes and started to pound your pussy once more. Your brain was far gone. All you felt was the shower water increase Miguel's speed. The sweat washing away from your bodies due to the water, making the sex feel far more refreshing. Miguel's wet hair sticking to his face as he begged you to cum for him. Your body arched into his, moaning your heart out as he kept bullying you.

        You were going to have to change your personal shower time to match Miguel's schedule from now on.

[peggyao3]

Holy Seed

PAIRING: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Unnamed Ambiguous FMC

SUMMARY: Feyd so badly wants to plant his seed deep inside his wife's belly.

WORD COUNT: 2,554

TAGS: Third person POV, she/her pronouns, AFAB FMC, porn without plot, smut, explicit sexual content, Dom/Sub undertones, vaginal sex, Switch!Feyd, Switch!FMC, breeding kink ❗, without actual breeding, Orgasm Denial, Power Play,  Feyd-Rautha's big cock, Feyd-Rautha's black cum, cum eating ❗

A/N: This is pure breeding kink and filth, you might need a shower after this one 😩

Reposted from my Ao3 💕| Masterlist under construction ⚠️

Divider by @saradika-graphics

There is no possible way to resist when his wife seduces him in the sanctity of their shared bed chamber. A wisp of translucent, gauzy gowns that flow around her curves while she lounges on the bed teases him, and then that modicum of fabric is gone too, pulled over her head by nimble hands. She rolls on her stomach, arching her back, elevating her ass. Her little toes with painted nails wiggle invitingly in the dim light of the glow orbs.

Not even a string of words whispered by a manipulative Bene Gesserit mouth would have been more effective than this. Feyd strips his sleeveless tunic and kicks off his lounge trousers, nearly tripping over the fabric around his ankles.

She makes a show of trying to crawl away from him, towards the pillow and headboard, spreading her thighs a smidge so Feyd sees the shimmer of wetness that clings to her lower lips. Swiftly, Feyd leaps on the bed, dragging his knees over the comforter to get to her quickly.

Pale hands capture her hips and she makes an adorable, little squeak when he yanks her backwards and her pussy bumps against his cock head whose texture is like taut velvet. Immediately, a palpable twitch goes through his manhood and his length cranes upwards, throbbing against her folds, once, twice.

She lets out a seductive chuckle, squishing her thighs together to trap his cock, but Feyd pulls back and brings the plump head to her hole with one fluid stroke, knowing her body like he knows his blades.

"Ouch!" She yelps and Feyd presses harder, taming her squirming hips with a harsh squeeze of battle-calloused hands that have been trained to know that a tight grip can be the difference between life and death. His teeth slide over her back and close around the softness between her nape and shoulder. Quickly, she succumbs to him.

She is unprepared save for the wetness she's mustered from watching him from across the room. "You can't tease me and expect me to play with your pussy before I come and fuck you."

"I c-can't really, can I?" She gasps and chuckles, instinctively trying to inch away from the abrasive pressure against her tight walls, but Feyd hooks one wiry arm around her hips, angling her ass up the way he needs. Willingly, her spine adjusts to his soft manhandling and her cunt flutters lightly. A primordial part of her thinks there is nothing greater than being taken like this, by a beast that comes and mounts her when she lures it.

Feyd's perception is narrowed down to what transpires between their bodies, the slow throbs of her cunt, the wetness that begins to slick up her walls, the tremors in her flesh while he splits her open, forcing her puffy lower lips to spread themselves around the thick base of his cock. His wife mewls and snarls like an angry kitten, purring and writhing against his taut chest.

She blatantly enjoys the physical strength of him - superior to her in any way, hard where she is soft, his flesh bulging with lithe muscles. His torso curls against her back, bending and moving as he ruts into her like a dog, bringing one arm to the front to support his weight on his hand right next to her own smaller one that clutches the sheets.

Feyd thinks there must be a reason why most animals choose this position to consummate their mating. Even though human anatomy allows for a myriad of different ways, there is nothing like bending over your woman and trapping her in a cage of arms and legs while she takes your cock like she was built to.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" She purrs, trying for a smug tone, but her breath is labored and strands of hair cling sweatily to her neck.

"I quite enjoy it when you know your place, my wife." Feyd's hand slides around her body, cupping her lower belly where he knows his cock is buried and will be pumping an offspring into her. "This'll be round and full soon," he grates out, moaning when he presses down harder on her abdomen.

"Ahhh, it's too deep!" She complains and he feels so sorry for bruising her poor little cervix.

"It must be deep, so it'll take."

She chokes out a moan and her arms buckle, chest and face falling against the mattress while her ass remains high, cunt spread open by his thick, milky cock. She is beautiful, back arched into submission, ass cheeks burning from the constant smacking of skin against skin.

"Your body likes that, wife," Feyd giggles. "There, you clenched again." He repositions his supporting hand, planting it in the nape of her neck instead. A hoarse whimper is muffled by the comforter and her toes curl. Her knees move in a pathetic attempt to crawl, but Feyd shifts his knees closer together, bracketing her body with warm, smooth thighs on either side while his cock pounds into her puffy hole over and over.

"You're trapped," Feyd purrs and bends over to nip at her back. "And you're going nowhere until I've planted my seed in you. And then I'll stay inside you as long as I feel like it. I won't let a single drop escape until it's nestled in your womb." He hits some higher notes in the end, growing immoderately excited over the idea of finally seeing her belly distended with his spawn.

His wife chuckles like she thinks that's a cute idea.

She brings a hand under her body and reaches back between her thighs. At first, Feyd thinks she's just going to play with her clit (things like that sometimes end up being neglected when one's mind is in a mating frenzy), but her nails scrape against his inner thigh. A soft moan escapes him as she traces the rippling muscles under perfectly smooth, hairless skin. His heavy balls wildly smack against her forearm. 

"It's time you stop," she purrs, wriggling her ass against his pelvis. "I can feel you twitching."

"No, not this time, wife! I won't pull out, you can't make me- Agh!"

Her hand forms a claw around his sac and her nails dig into the smooth, flushed skin, squishing the globules full of seed that are nestled inside, aching to be spent.

Stubbornly, Feyd's hips keep snapping, filling her pussy with more cock than it should be physically able to take. His torso undulates and shivers against her back and a low groan reverberates in his throat, like a cornered animal threatening to bite, but she knows she's got him on a leash.

"Husband…" She threatens and Feyd is ready to strike, both hands snapping to the meat of her hips to pin her down and rut hard and bestially until his seed is spilled into her willing cunt while her unwilling mouth screams and curses him.

But his wife has learned to strike quicker than he does. She curls her fist around his balls, gripping them right by the base, and tugs until he wails and withdraws, pulling out of her pussy. Her terrible hand releases him and his cock is left throbbing, angry and hard like steel, the head flushed dark grey with inky Harkonnen blood. Her pussy taunts him, her lips still parted, puffy and wet with her juices.

"No…" Feyd weakly declares, shaking his head when she turns around and sits on her knees. Her skin shines damp with sweat in the low glow orb light and she points her index finger to the side of the bed. "No, don't make me spill it," Feyd whines and brings his hands in front of his cock, protectively cupping it. His flesh is hot and sticky and the lightest of touch makes him buck into his own palm. His balls look swollen and darkly flushed, peeking out behind his fingers.

"Don't be sulky. There. To the edge of the bed."

Feyd pants heavily, jaws twitching. Then he obeys, stunned that his wife dares to talk to him like that, as if she had a chance to stop him if he really wanted to pump her full or seed. He kneels on the bed, chest and hips pointing towards the open room.

"That's a good husband."

Feyd's mouth is still turned downwards and he stares at his pelvis until his wife's hands gently curl around his and pry them off his manhood. The sound she lets out at the flushed, twitching sight he is, can only be labeled as admiring. Feyd-Rautha surrenders to fate when her fingers curl around his length and he is ever shaken by the size of himself and how she struggles to encompass the entire girth of him, squishing the bulging veins so her fingertips can touch.

She is at his left side, intimately close, and begins stroking him with her left hand. He moans softly, watching with awe how her smaller hand slides confidently up and down, spreading her juices over his solid shaft and the swollen head. Feyd thanks her with whimpered voice, fists twitching at the sides of his body. 

Her right hand slides over his flexed glutes and between his thighs from behind, cupping his tortured balls with a much gentler grasp. Still, Feyd twitches fearfully and a bead of pre-cum gathers at his slit.

Her head then pushes between his arm and his side, so her cheek is pressed against Feyd's ribs while she strokes him with one hand and fondles his sac with the other. The way she holds him is like only a wife would dare to hold him, never a pet,  and Feyd's hand defeatedly settles on her head, cupping it against his heaving side.

"I'm so close," he whines, eyes fluttering shut. "It's not too late."

"Your cum goes right where it belongs, my husband." She nips at his soft, milky flesh over hard muscles.

"N-No, ahhh~"

She feels his climax in his balls first, how they churn and lift against his pelvis, how the flesh pulls taut, followed by lazy throbbing that translates into his impressive cock and culminates in the swollen head. A pathetic moan rumbles in Feyd's chest as glistening strings of inky semen spurt on the floor tiles, going to waste. His climax ends with a few last droplets that dribble sadly into the black, little puddle.

Proudly, his wife purrs against his side and kisses his torso while cruel hands still gently massage his manhood, even though he is spent and softening.

"You know they're all waiting for an announcement." Feyd's voice pitifully trembles and he sounds like a pouting boy, hips twitching with each soft tug on his cock and balls. The royal court probably thinks him impotent by now.

She slips away and leans back, lounging on her back like a cat. "Well that's too bad because I have so much fun playing with you. And I know you like it when your holy seed spills on the floor" His wife chuckles a little and Feyd bares his charcoal teeth, far too aware of how right she is. The shape of his balls feels heavy and hot and they throb against his smooth thighs with each pulse of his own blood.

"One day I won't let you do this to me," he threatens with grating voice.

"Come, snuggle me." She spreads her arms and Feyd obliges at once, nestling his face against her collar bone while she traces his shoulder blades. His flaccid cock is squished between his tummy and her side. They calm their breaths for a peaceful little while.

"Should I call in the servants to c-clean up?"

"No!" His wife snaps and Feyd endlessly enjoys her visceral reaction. "It's all mine and no one will touch it."

"It's all yours, my wife." Feyd's eyes are like black, shiny marbles when he peeks up at the possessive expression that adorns her face. Plump lips press against her neck.

"Would you fetch it for me, please?"

A tremor of excitement seizes him and he dutifully gets up and squats down next to the bed, briefly mourning what had become of his spend when he looks down at his empty cock and the inky puddle on the tiles. But at least he gets to do this to her. For a moment, she only sees the smooth shape of his head bobbing slightly back and forth, his rounded, muscular shoulders moving. He reminds her of a hairless beast, feasting on a corpse, but he only scoops up his cum as best as possible and smears it against his hollowed palm. It's by far not everything, but it'll do. 

Feyd climbs back on the bed, approaching his wife whose expression is much more docile now and her hands are clutched over her chest as if she's impatient or nervous or both. Her thighs rub together, but he can still see her swollen lower lips peeking out. Grinning, Feyd settles down at her side, supporting his weight with the elbow of the arm that holds his precious cum.

"Open," he purrs and she obediently parts her lips, covering her bottom row of teeth with her pink tongue. "That's my darling," he praises and gathers cum on the tip of his middle finger which then finds the center of her tongue. Whining quietly, she suckles the offered digit into her mouth, curling tongue and lips around it, careful not to scrape him with her teeth, as if she hadn't nearly squashed his balls only minutes prior.

Feyd reverently watches, and when he slowly slips his finger out of her puckered, pouty mouth, it comes out clean and glistening. She opens her mouth and presents her tongue, proving that she's dutifully swallowed his holy seed.

"Pretty," he praises with a low rumble. "Do you want more?"

His wife nods with her tongue out, so Feyd feeds her semi-translucent, inky cum from his palm until there's nothing left to scoop up. She grabs his hand then, one hand curling around his wrist, the other snatching his calloused fingers, and brings it to her mouth. Greedily, her tongue flicks out and she licks every last remnant of sticky seed off his skin, big eyes peeking at him over the edge of his pale hand.

"You're so messy." He whispers it as a compliment. His wife's lashes flutter and she nods.

Her submissiveness makes Feyd's core clench agonizingly with the need to breed her, but his balls are empty. "If I still had anything in me, I'd fuck you right now until you're full of child. I wouldn't stop!"

"Mmm-hmm~" She slurs around the heel of his hand, suckling on it before letting go of it with a pop.

"I'd put it deep in your belly."

"Your seed is in my belly, my na-Baron," she giggles.

"Or I could simply scoop up some more from the floor and stuff it into your cunt with my fingers." Feyd's pupils widen and flicker as he cups his wife's cheek with his saliva-coated hand, caressing her wetly. She doesn't flinch.

"You wouldn't do that," she confidently purrs and cups his smooth cheek in return. "You want to breed me honorably."

"Will you let me someday?" Half-lidded eyes study her face.

"Perhaps," she coos. "If you behave."

A/N: Going through a reeeaally mentally draining period of my life right now, so all I can do is upload one of my "old" fics from ao3 🥺 But I'm working on Relic and I should have a new chapter for you this weekend!! <3 Whoever reads this - I hope you're doing well today!

FEYD TAG LIST:

@nostalgichoya, @forgedfromthestars, @sweetiee-o, @missbingu, @minedofmoria

@sebastianswallows, @charmingballoon, @flower-frog, @welliah, @aoi-targaryen

@coastalcowgirl35, @esolean, @szapizzapanda, @tatertooted

[thechaoticdruid]

Astarion x Chubby reader/Tav Headcanons because I'm tired of reading about Tav's perfect petite or hourglass body.

Some of the Headcanons get quite sexual so MDNI 18+ People ONLY. There's also some slight gore and mentions of Astarion's trauma.

Chubby Tav is going to be mentioned to be a Wizard with a noble background because that makes the most sense for a chubby adventurer in my mind!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Astarion wasn't really attracted to your body at first.

Not that he found you ugly or anything it's just your physical appearance really wasn't that relevant to his plan.

What mattered to him was how well you carried yourself in a fight and how easy you'd be to string along.

You were a skilled Wizard with a tendency to be mercilessly cruel when you came across the most vile of villains.

Some asshole was murdering children? You cast a spell that caused him to slowly inflate until he exploded into bloody bits.

Some crazy bitch was torturing and using innocents for blood sacrifices? You took control of her own body and made her stab herself over and over.

And Astarion just ate that up.

Not that he cared for the sad pathetic welps in peril mind you.

But the bloodlust in your eyes as you dealt with those you considered unredeemable villains honestly made him feel a bit hot and bothered.

And the sheer magical prowess you displayed was rather impressive.

Plus you didn't bore him half to death with magical lectures like Gale did so that was nice.

As he began pursuing you, your insecurities became rather evident.

You would often dismiss his flirting or straight up ignore it.

Being told you were sexually unappealing all your life had really gotten to you. To the point where you just couldn't wrap your head around someone as beautiful as Astarion coming onto you.

But determined as ever to have you as his protection Astarion persisted.

Perhaps you'd never had a lover or perhaps you'd had far too many whom left you for someone they found more appealing.

Either way you were convinced Astarion's advances meant nothing.

That either he wanted something from you or he was simply mocking you like so many others had done in the past.

So when he finally is blunt enough to say he wants sex with you it's a big shock.

Your first response is to push back.

You tell him to quit messing with you because it was not funny!

He swears to you that his desire to sleep with you is genuine and begins to go so far as to list everything he finds alluring about you.

The taste of your blood.

The way your eyes sparkle when filled with bloodlust.

How gods damned sexy you looked covered in the blood of your foes.

When it was clear that he hadn't made any comments about your figure, you actually began to think perhaps he wasn't making fun of you.

It took some time to think about it, but eventually you decided to accept his offer the night of the tiefling party.

At first you're very hesitant to remove your clothes in fear of him immediately backing out once he was able to fully take in your plump form.

At that point Astarion strips down first and seductively coaxes you out of your clothes.

If you're AFAB he immediately becomes enamoured with your plump breasts, his first instinct is to start sucking on them like his life depends on it as his hands grope and caress the deliciously thick cushy curves of your hips and ass.

If you're AMAB he's a bit more grabby with your ass than anything else. He also makes flirty remarks on how big you are while teasingly grabbing your cock.

Either way on your first night together you let him take the lead, evil voices in your head telling you that if you were on top you'd crush him like some disgusting monstrous beast.

He doesn't press you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable and focuses mostly on your wants and pleasure.

Leaves a trail of kisses and licks all over your body, worshipping every inch of it.

If you express your insecurities with him, claiming you didn't think he'd want you because you were fat he brushes it off.

"Nonsense darling, there's just more of you to nibble on.~"

And he is sure to nibble on every inch of you.

Especially those thick thighs.

He loves drinking from you there before eating you out or sucking you off.

As he begins to develop actual feelings for you he feels the need to comfort you more about your insecurities.

Of course Astarion doesn't quite understand how to do comfort. Not having any of it himself for the past 200 years.

He tries to fix it with sex. Thinking perhaps if you felt desired these pesky insecurities would just go away.

He'd grab your ass and whisper lustful remarks about your body when no one was watching.

Sometimes it helped and sometimes it didn't.

Eventually however things became much more complicated once Astarion came to the realization he was falling for you.

He found himself unable to 'perform' any longer. The guilt of manipulating you began to eat away at him.

Not to mention it was becoming harder and harder to come up with an excuse for why he didn't always seem fully present during intimacy with you. You were becoming more and more concerned. Which just made the guilt he felt grow.

You were too good for him!

He just knew you'd be crushed! Finally finding one person who actually desired you, only to discover it was all a lie!

You'd hate him for sure he just knew it!

But he couldn't do it any longer. You were kind to him. You actually cared about him.

And Gods damnit he knew what was like when people only care about your looks more than most.

You deserved better.

So he came clean and poured out his heart to you. Fully prepared for your anger and resentment.

But when it happened you just looked tired.

You confessed that deep down you knew it was all a manipulation.

Gods, the idea that someone as attractive as him would want you for your body was just ridiculous to you.

You really just wanted to pretend for a while.

To feel wanted and desired.

So in a way you used him too.

But then you too began to fall for him as well and began to dread when you'd eventually have to stop playing pretend.

After confession however you'd both agreed to start over, take things at a much slower pace.

And for the most part things were great!

Your late night trysts turned into cuddle sessions.

Astarion particularly loved using you as a pillow and snuggling into the warm, soft, cushion of your body.

If you ever felt the demons of insecurity eating away at you Astarion would immediately insist he didn't care what you looked like. He liked you for you.

Because you're you.

He had a little trouble wording it but it was sweet nonetheless.

When you finally reached Baldur's Gate there were a few hiccups in the road.

You were back amongst society and the eyes of the nobility who were a constant thorn in your side growing up.

Your father, the head of your family was intent on marrying you off to strengthen an alliance between another noble family and your own.

But despite his efforts most of the other patriar families were far too stuck up to accept his offer.

Deaming you as too unappealing to marry.

You didn't have any interest in an arranged marriage anyway, much too invested in your magical studies, but the rude comments from some of the other nobles still stung.

"My child is not being married off to a deep rothé!" One of them had actually said.

Now that you were back home the demons of your past began to plague your mind once again.

Astarion was there for you now however and tried to keep your mind off of things by reminding you that you both had a quest or two to finish!

If anyone were to make a rude comment out on the streets or sneer at you behind your back about how Astarion was way out of your league he would be quick to comfort you.

He'd pull you to the side and plant a wet kiss on your mouth right in front of any possible offenders.

And if any of them were to mysteriously disappear amongst the shadows of the night...

All the better.

[dutiful-wildcraft]

Pack 141 - Werewolf!Price Headcanons

Tags: monster au, sfw, werewolf!price, mentions of gore and body horror, loose a/b/o dynamics, possessiveness, scent marking, fluff, werewolf lore sprinkled with pack 141 interactions

-A born lycan. The shift was as natural as breathing. And he quickly showed the temperment of an alpha.

-Shifts to the outsider can appear gruesome. As the wolf quite literally emerges from within, human flesh falling away like a gristly chrysalis to reveal the beast beneath. Traditionally, this shed flesh would be devoured, though it isn't commonly practiced today. The flesh disintegrates quite quickly once shed.

-This being said Price can shift in degrees, often enhancing his own claws or teeth for defensive purposes rather than shift completely. 

-No, the clothes do not magically pop back on once he's done. Shifting completely is inconvenient and typically a last resort. It's difficult to strip in the middle of a fire fight, let alone find his tac bag stark naked after it's all said and done.

-For born wolves, this shift is generally smooth and quick. For those bitten, it is this first shift that often leads to their death. Around 75% of those bitten do not have the bodily fortitude to withstand the change.

-as a born wolf, Price's enhanced senses are also perfectly integrated, and require no sensory aids for him to navigate his daily life unlike the majority of bitten wolves.

-born wolves have a tendency to remain in seclusion, within the safety and comfort of their pack. When a new alpha is born they typically either stay to take over leadership, or stake out a new territory to build their own pack.

-John was quickly ostracized when he showed little interest in either of those things. He seemed to be far more preoccupied with exploring both the world and his own strength. The military amongst the humans would do quite nicely.

-During his tours there would be fleeting encounters with other monsters, typically enemies. But a few comrades as well. Such as Nikolai, a bear shifter. The pair of lycans got along beautifully.

-Now, despite his former pack's opinions of him, John had never explicitly said he didn't want a pack, just not their version of a pack. No. John had a different idea in mind.

-Simon was the first. A strong and brutal human, who had shown an endearing gentleness in certain circumstances. Price had decided immediately that Simon would belong to him. He just needed some final paper work to build his pack task force. He had even settled on changing Simon himself, despite the risks. A bloody vampire had beaten him to it. Price was hardly angry that Simon's humanity was taken from him, just that Simon had to suffer in such a way to get there. At least Price had the pleasure of siring the newborn himself.

-Next had been Soap. A wiley thing with a blatant disregard for orders and big blue eyes that were far too pretty to be all human. Price couldn't decide if he should scruff or praise him for his cheek. But Soap had an excellent knack for mixing things that should absolutely not work, into something that would cave a warehouse in seconds. Along with a distinct aversion to touching certain metals with his bare hands. His peculiarities had earned him a nickname, and also given him away as a Fae. Price would have him too.

-Garrick followed not long after. Sharp and driven Gaz. Incredibly clever with a proud determination that blazed behind those warm brown eyes. Gaz's skills made his inner wolf purr in delight.  Another lovely thing for him to keep. Price was taken with him immediately, and had never felt more at ease than with the sergeant he had stolen in Piccadilly. 

-While he could tell from Kyle's scent that he was something Other. Price would only receive cryptic answers or riddles that only made the younger sergeant chuckle as Price failed to guess correctly. (Price would totally not make up excessively silly answers to see the sergeants pretty smile, oh no).

-It wouldn't be until they were stranded in an excessively hot desert that Gaz would reveal himself. Price had emerged from their tent to see Garrick, posted up like it was summer vacation, with a brilliant golden wing curled over his head to shade him from the sun. A long tufted tail flickering back and forth out of a small cut in his fatigues. Gaz had looked up from his book, golden slitted eyes peering over his aviators. Flashed him a toothy grin. “Wanna make another guess Cap?”

-Price has a vicious possessive streak, and he plays it incredibly carefully in the beginning of the task force. He watches his vocabulary when talking about the “team.” His pack. Perfect, strong and beautiful. All of them. Chosen carefully.  He was careful not to spook them at first, worried his possessive language would put them off.  But they are, for all intents and purposes, his.

-His possessiveness had manifested subtly at first. Scent marking them. Brushing shoulders or gentle touches as he passed them. He would even resort to smoking beside them if touching seemed out of the question. At least his smoke would soak into their clothes and hair.

-As they fell together it became less subtle. Price couldn't resist sinking his teeth into their flesh as they writhed beneath him. Suck bruises along whatever flesh he could get his mouth on. It was a pro and a con that his boys all healed so well. While his marks did not remain for long, it meant he could only mark them up sooner. 

-He loves that their scents all intermingle, really. But he can be stubbornly adamant that his scent is the most notable. Often catching Soap or Gaz to tug into his office, kissing the breath out of them, only to curtly send them back out, freshly scented and a bit dazed. It's a fair compromise considering Simon often hogs the sergeants to himself.

-Simon often seeks him out of his own volition. Coming to his office to sit quietly, work on his own reports and bask in Price's scent of spilled ink and warm honey. Or sneaking to his room in the night. Slipping off the mask to bury his nose against his throat. No biting. Just breathing. His scent a balm to the younger vampires frayed nerves. 

-Price takes an immense amount of pride in caring for his pack, and takes his job seriously in protecting and providing. Gets immensely distraught when one of his mates is hurting. Knowing no limits in showering them in comfort items and love. 

[clownyclaushoe]

art the clown x reader 🔞 | i taste blood and it's turned into an obsession series

part two | bruises on both my knees for you

part one | part three | part four

reader sucks art's cock 😫 | i planned on also including reader getting railed by art, but this was getting really long so i think there'll now be a part three for that 🙈😓 chapter title is from bad guy by billie eyelash (sorry i couldn't help myself 😄 i'm a fan of miss eilish 😌) cause yet again i could only think to use the most obvious lyrics since we're dealing with a blowjob 😂😂

---

you were still dazed from the two orgasms art had given you as you stood, determined to reciprocate to the mysterious clown that turned your life upside down. you had wanted to suck his cock for way too long, the ache present in the back of your mind every moment spent with and without him. it had only worsened since you had seen naked a few weeks ago when you both returned from the day's antics. he'd immediately stripped down in order to clean his costume, revealing he was wearing nothing underneath.

art didn't feel things such as modesty - and to fair, he didn't have a reason to considering the length of his dick. the sight instantly made you wet, your pussy throbbing and clenching around nothing, wishing it was wrapped around his girth. you had to tear your gaze away, wondering how art would've reacted had he noticed your staring, though he seemed not to.

the visual aid only added to your fantasies. you'd spent countless nights at your apartment using your bullet vibrator while imagining art fucking you. there were moments while you were in the throes of pleasure, it seemed art could see you, as if powered by the supernatural forces surrounding him - a telepathic bond created between you two where art, wherever he was, whatever he was doing, could see you, could hear you calling his name; and you felt his intense leering eyes, could clearly envision the way his mouth set with a smirk as he took in the sight of you making yourself fall apart every time.

the thought of him watching you intensified each sensation, sending sparks of ecstasy throughout your body, moaning and whining for him, begging him to finally take you however he wanted, willing to give yourself to him for his (and your own) pleasure.

would he have stopped whatever nefarious actions he was in the middle of to jerk off? what little you did know about art, you knew at some time in his existence, he was a just mere man - mortal and fallible as everyone else. maybe that human yet primal part of him remained, that was interested in a good fuck, in coming so hard until his balls were emptied, drained dry of every drop of cum.

you wanted so badly for him to use your mouth and pussy as his own personal fucktoys, needy little cumdumps waiting impatiently for him to spill his hot loads of cum. and with his enthusiasm at your suggestion of returning the flavor earlier, as well as his large, hard cock bulging against his pants, it seemed he felt the same.

you walked around him, unzipping his costume and watching him tug it down, revealing again the expense of skin you dreamed of touching, basking in the sight of his large but lanky body. he kicked off his large clown shoes and tossed aside the costume. your fingers gazed over his back, his skin unusually warm, making you wonder if that was a result of being an underling for the evil that resurrected him, the man coming back as a demon heated by the very flames of hell.

you stepped to face him, touch moving along his smooth chest. you could swear you felt him shiver under your touch; you were curious how long it had been since someone had touched him like this, with gentleness, consideration, and possibly even love.

it seemed unbelievable you could get such a reaction from this beast that brought terror and fear to nearly everyone that crossed his path.

your hand trailed down to wrap tightly around his cock, stroking him, intently watching the shifts in his expression, his eyes slowly blinking closed, the twitch of his mouth, his tongue darting out to lick his lips.

"you need my mouth wrapped around your thick clown cock, hmm?" you drop to your knees, suckling at the flushed, swollen head, flickering your eyes up to watch his head fall back, mouth opening with a silent moan.

"though i like it sweet sometimes" you twist your hand over the ridge of the head, tonguing precum from the slit. "i expected you to be rougher with me, art." you sink down halfway, loving the weight of him in your mouth, heavy on your tongue. you drag your teeth over his shaft as you pull back, something you'd been careful not to do with past boyfriends and hook-ups, but you knew art would like it. and he seemed to as indicated by the dominating way he put his hands on your head, keeping you still.

you grabbed under his balls, taking his shaft all the way this time, nose pressing against his pelvis as his hold on your head tightened. his hips moved, thrusting his thick cock forward and back in your mouth. you blinked back tears, trying to relax your throat, mouth widening as you fought against your gag reflex, chorus of "guh-guh-guh" sounds filling the otherwise quiet room. you were determined to make him come harder than he ever has.

he continued like that for what felt like minutes until his grip mercilessly loosened, allowing you to pull off with a gasp to catch your breath. you palmed over the slit, stroking him quickly, motion slick from your saliva and his precum. you stared up at him, noticing his hat was lopsided on his head. you giggled to yourself, kissing the slit, and down the underside.

"fuck, your big clown cock is so hot, artie."

art chuckled silently, his body jostling, clearly smug with the effect he had on you, as if the two times he'd made you squirt weren't enough justification for him to be self-satisfied with his abilities and attributes.

you take his swollen balls into your mouth, sucking hard, continuing to stroke him fast, that slick slapping of skin-on-skin you'd always adored filling your ears. your free hand moved to his trembling belly, signaling he was close. you went back to bobbing around on his dick until he spilt in your mouth, pulsing fat hot streaks of cum down your throat, shaft jerking repeatedly as you milked it of every drop, until his dick began to soften. all the while you watched as his mouth opened into a wide teeth bearing grin, almost appearing like he was taunting you. the next time you touched yourself you knew thinking of that expression would push you over the edge.

you sighed as you pulled off, pleased with yourself, especially seeing the way his cock was already hardening again. it seemed it was going to be a long night. you stood, turning to lean on art's work bench, pushing your ass out and swaying it teasingly from side to side impatiently.

"i need your clown cock in my pussy, NOW."

---

another cliffhanger, sorry! 🙈

hope all enjoyed! 🖤❤🖤❤

[honeesucker]

*°:⋆ₓₒ Virgin!Simon Riley x Fem!Reader

*°:⋆ₓₒ 1.7k

*°:⋆ₓₒ Inspired by this post by @rowarn because I am ravenous thinking about it and non-sub virgin!Simon is the best.

You don't know how it happened, you ending up back at the apartment of your Lieutenant but here you were with your shirt off, chest bared to the man currently kneading the soft flesh there as he pinched and twisted your nipples with calloused fingers. You couldn't help the soft panting breaths and bottom-lip biting moans you let loose as his skilled fingertips worked you over, and every mewl or yelp only served to heighten his excitement and spur him on further.

Simon was straddling your waist, his legs locked around yours like this was a take-down during training except this time the hardened outline of his cock was pressing down against your clothed mound like a beast waiting to be set free. He pressed down against you, grinding his hips in a fluid motion surprising for him, but it drew a low groan out of you as you felt the delicious friction.

"S-Simon," you breathed his name like an angel, his name rolled off your tongue so softly and he damn near came in his pants at the sound of it.

"Hm?" He murmured gently, rolling his hips again as he drew more sweet sounds from your lips.

"S-Stop teasing m-me," you whined as you met his intense gaze with a pouty look, you bottom lip jutting out gently. "S'not fair."

"Shh," he hushed you gently. "Just let me take care of you, yeah?" You just gave a soft hum in response, allowing him to continue his slow fondle of your chest as you arched up further into his touch. "Greedy little thing, aren't ya?" He chided softly. Simon's hands continued their kneading, twisting, pulling and pinching of your flesh until he was satisfied with the result; a few marks left in the wake of his actions.

His hands were suddenly not satisfied with just your upper half, licking his lips in anticipation of what came next as he trailed soft touches down your abdomen to the hem of your bottoms. He hooked his fingers beneath the material and pulled them down gently as he moved himself off of you, the material slipping down the length of your legs as he discarded them onto the floor. He swallowed hard at the sight of you bare to him, no panties, nothing was separating you two any longer save for his own clothing... but he relished in the small amount of power that came from you completely bare beneath him while he still hadn't touched a single piece clothing on his body.

"Touch yourself while I undress." Simon's voice came out stern, sending a shiver down your body as you complied, your fingers dancing down your skin until they reached your slick folds, your fingers dipping into the soft flesh there as you gasped softly, your legs spreading wider to give him a better view of yourself.

Simon slowly slipped one arm at a time out of his tight compression shirt, then pulled it over his head swiftly, eliciting a gasp from you at the sight of his muscled torso. He then slowly, agonizingly slow, unbuttoned his trousers and undid the zipper, pulling it down at a glacial pace as some of the tension released and the outline of his cock bulged forward in his dark boxer-briefs.

Simon moved down from his standing position, laying on his belly between your legs as a deep groan reverberated in his chest at the sight of you splayed out before him. You peeked open your eyes just in time to see the primal look on his face as his tongue drew heavy and slow across his lips; before leaning forward and hooking his hands below your knees to throw your legs over his shoulders as he leaned down to lick a long, wet strip up the center of your soaked pussy, the sensation was almost too much immediately, sending shockwaves through your whole body as you arched off the bed with a soft yelp. 

Simon let out a deep, rumbling growl at your response, whispering, "so sweet for me, pretty thing," before delving back in and devouring your pussy with a symphony of lewd squelching and sloppy sounds like a man starved who was just handed a sweet fruit. His mouth latched around your swollen clit with a pressure that had you seeing stars as his middle and ring finger found their way into your sopping depths, arching in their entry as they found the sweet spongy spot just inside your hole, applying pressure as they curled cruelly in quick movements, drawing out more moans from you. 

"S-Si, s'too much..." you whined again, Simon ceasing all of his movements as he shushed you with an intense, stern gaze. You were a whimpering mess above him as he played you like an instrument, his fingers practiced and languid as his tongue flicked at your sensitive nub, his lips locked around your clit to apply a sucking pressure that left you coming undone around his fingers, your hips bucking up to meet his movements as he fingered you through your first orgasm. Simon pulled his hand away, sucking on the soaked fingers with a downright sinful sound, and leaned back down again to soon have you on the precipice of another orgasm soon after the first, his tongue hungrily licking you out as his thumb made perfect, pressured circles on your clit; within moments you were left panting and covered in a sheen of sweat, pleading to be released as he kept devouring you until the pleasure tinged with pain from his relentless oral assault. 

Simon climbed slowly up the bed, laying half-on, half-off of you as he applied a bit of his weight to you. "Such a good little thing you are, yeah? Being so good for me," he murmured softly as his hand cupped your face, his thumb stroking your cheek slowly as his eyes reflected an adoration you had rarely seen him portray. You couldn't help the heated blush that tinged your cheeks as you averted your eyes for a moment, but he pinched into your cheeks with his index finger and thumb, squishing your face between his fingers gently. "Now, now... I want you to look at me while I take you, yeah?"

You couldn't help the little quick breath you sucked in, lacking any response other than a small nod of your head as your mouth hung open a tiny bit. Simon couldn't help but chuckle at this sight, imagining the ways your face would contort when he finally sunk himself inside of you... but there was a bit of bitter nerves in the back of his mind at the idea of something going wrong since Simon was a virgin. You and he had already discussed it, in fact, it was a talk that resulted in tonight even happening... but for the love of fuck he certainly didn't know how to act right now as he slipped his boxer-briefs down his muscled thighs and positioned himself between your spread legs. He certainly almost came right then and there when you looked up at him with those eyes of yours, wide and waiting, your mouth hanging open a little until you bit your lower lip at the sight of him - he rubbed his thick cockhead up and down the length of your slit, gathering the slippery cum from your earlier orgasms as he pressed into you slowly. He didn't notice he was holding his breath until he let out a quick gasp of air at the fell of your tight walls stretching to accommodate his girth. Simon had to steady himself as he hilted the entire length of his cock inside of you, your tight walls pulsating around him in gentle spasms as you got used to the intrusion.

He pulled back slowly, almost too slowly as he left only the tip in until he pushed the length of his cock back inside of you, the slippery ease of his movements creating a pleasant friction that cause both of you to shiver. Simon didn't make it but six or seven more thrusts before his cock was spasming inside of you, spurting a rope of sticky white cum into your depths. He froze, you just looked up at him with soft, loving eyes which instantly relaxed him; he didn't feel ashamed or embarrassed, but he was worried a bit over what your reaction would be.

His cock was still raging hard inside of you despite the orgasm, and he couldn't help the way he chewed on his lower lip as he started pushing inside of you again, surprise written all over your face as your head fell back, his hips snapping up into yours with a renewed fervor that had you moaning out loud again. He got a little smug after that, watching you writhe beneath him in pleasure as he fucked you at a relentless pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room alongside soft groans and moans.

Simon could feel the familiar twist and coil of pressure building in his lower abdomen, shooting down into his cock as he felt his balls tighten again, unloading another round of cum deep against your cervix as he bottomed out in you, straining from how much deeper he wanted to be.

This repeated for an hour, Simon making it a few series of deep thrusts into your waiting hole and he couldn't control himself between the sensation of the silken feel of your walls around him or the fucked out expression on your face - it would only be another fuck or ten minutes before he was fucking another load deep into your cunt... but don't think he was being greedy - he pulled three more orgasms out of you before you were begging him enough was enough.

You two lay in each other's arms, Simon stroking the side of your face as he cooed sweet words into your ear, kissing your temple, your forehead, your jaw, just below your ear and then along your neck and back up again. You were in fucked out bliss, safe in his arms as he cradled you against his muscled body, skin again skin as you came down from your multiple highs; feeling safe and cared for.

"S'just the beginning, love." Simon would mutter, his hands already starting to wander lower again.