#the spot thirst

[l13]

I'm thinking about how spot would probably be in tears if he discovered he had a dick and you made him cum for the first time in almost 2 years omfggajdjwkdnw

He would be so desperate and sensitive, bucking his hips even though you've only dragged the tip of your finger along his length, and if you give him the grace of using your mouth on him he'd literally spasm LMFAO like actually twitch and cry I need him so bad help

he'd be crying and you could hear it as he talked, "Oh my God- oh baby, yesss-" "Mm gonna cum, y're gonna make me cum, fuck- pleasepleaseplease-"

he'd literally cum after like 5 minutes of you jerking his cock, but then you didn't stop after the first time and he almost lost his mind right then and there,

"No- wait- oh shit- wait," he's whimpering, and arching his back prettily, nd you slap his thigh when he goes to grasp your hand and he's moaning, "Feels so good, feels so fucking good, I ca-an't take it,"

you click your tongue, "Can't you? Be a good boy for me, baby.." you're circling and rolling your hand over the head of his cock, your other hand massaging his fat balls, and he's bucking his hips, nd you didn't know if he wanted to get closer or to get away, no matter the answer though, you didn't stop.

"Fuck- m gonna cum again, fuck-"

[moominsuki]

telling katsuki you’ve never had a g-spot orgasm before and suddenly you’re back is pressed to his chest as you’re both sat in front of your bedroom mirror and he’s stroking the inside of you walls, making it his mission to make you cream all over his fingers

[crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf]

“Are you hungry or not?”

Crosshair x F!Reader One Shot

Summary:

Prison life is already unfair as it is, but when a clone guard ends up being your solitary warden you may have no choice but to do what ever he says.

WC: 4405- Read on Ao3

*this is just my general "mature rating" specifics:

Content Warning:

Smut. Coercion/Questionable consent, Uneven power dynamic, Unethical Dom Crosshair, Oral (f receiving), Orgasm denial, begging, humiliation (?... sure), Unprotected PiV and creampie, Light restraining, mind games. Rough all around.

Authors Note: I was not able to make in universe swearing work with this one, so FUCK it is. Also, I took all of One Shot Cross's ethic points and gave them to Disgrace Crosshair so now this one is just an utter menace. Hope that helps.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Hours had passed. 

Normally, there'd be an orderly with a food tray, then the inquisitors with their scowling guard, but today…

You sprawled on the bunk and  looked at the clock in your plain cell and your stomach growled. Hours since the usual meal time. 

Are they trying to starve a confession out of me?

It wouldn't help, you weren't an insurrectionist. Just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Didn't stop them from locking you away. They had no intention of letting anyone suspected of treason see trial anytime soon. Stuck in holding limbo while they questioned you day after day... Till days became months. 

But not today. 

You jumped as the door swished open without the usual warning clamor of boots or the rattle of the food cart. Bolting upright you turned on your bed to face the door. 

A single clone trooper was framed in the doorway holding a tray of food casually in one hand. 

This one was odd; Overly tall, slim with narrow features and a shock of white hair. He was a familiar sight, usually standing behind the Lieutenant that was leading the questioning for the day. He was the one that snickered when you suggested your inquisitor eat his own testicles. 

The light glinted off the ominous black armor as he paced through the harsh white room and set the tray on the metal table in the middle with a sharp clatter. Then he stepped back, twirling the toothpick between his lips as he observed you,

“Well?”

“Well… what?”

“Are you hungry or not?”

You were, but you eyed the soldier suspiciously,

“Where’s everyone else? Why's it just you?”

He smirked,

“Seems they forgot about you… guess that makes you my problem,”

You weren't sure what that meant, but it looked like the best answer you'd get for now. Standing, you cautiously crossed the few feet to the table and perched on one of the attached metal seats by the tray. 

It had the usual: protein gel, fresh piece of fruit, portion of hard grain bread and water… and…a dessert. 

That's new…

You eyed the small canister of sweet custard before flicking your gaze to the soldier. 

“You… sticking around?”

“Mm”

You picked up the utensils on the tray and poked at the jelly mass that represented most of your daily calories. With only him standing there it felt… awkward. 

“If it's just you, why don't you sit?... This feels too… watched.”

It wasn't just the situation. He was watching you. Intently. You could feel his eyes boring into the top of your skull every time you looked down. You offered again,

“Sit.”

“You're in no position to be giving orders…”

…

He sat. Elbows on the table, hands folded under rested chin, eyes… focused on your face. 

You gave up trying to eat the undignified nutrient paste under such scrutiny and picked up the stone fruit instead, biting into its soft flesh to fill your mouth with tangy juice that ran down your chin. 

He watched. 

“Seriously�� What are you doing here, Trooper?”

“Commander.”

“Commander trooper.”

“Crosshair.”

You glanced over the tattoo around his eye. 

Yeah, that makes sense. 

“You still haven't answered me Commander.”

“I already did. They. Forgot. You. Fallen between the cracks.”

“But you didn't?”

His cheeks tinged the most subtle shade of pink. He didn't answer. 

“So, now I'm your problem…”

“Indeed. No one will be coming to feed you, No more questions, Just you, this cell… and me,”

There was a growl to his voice that sent a shiver up your spine. You didn't want to guess at what he was implying, though you didn't need to. He stood leaning on his palms against the table top, a devilish look in his eyes. 

“Do you want to keep eating, inmate?”

You gulped, taking in his posture, his expression, his eyes boring hungrily into you. 

“You're not suggesti-”

“I am.”

“You can't be serious.”

“I am.”

You sat straight, shifting uncomfortably. There wasn't denying you had looked at the soldier before, even had the intrusive thought to ask him to stay behind once or twice… but this…

“This is an abuse of your position, soldier…”

He snatched out, fingers digging into your cheeks as he roughly turned your face up to look at him. 

“It's a risk, sneaking food down here, what's a little… mutual benefit? I bring you food, you give me whatever I want,”

He leaned in breath hot against your ear,

“You get to eat… and so do I.”

Your breath caught as an unbidden heat warmed your inner thighs… those long months of isolation making you easy to tease. This was unfair and you bit your cheek in indignation. 

“Think about it. I'll be back tomorrow… but if I stick around after that… that's up to you.”

He moved from the table, punching a code into the door and slipping out in a fluid motion leaving you to stew with what might possibly be your second to last meal. 

~~~

You sat at the edge of the bunk, leg bouncing in distress as you looked over the dirty tray from yesterday. No one had come for it. The automated lights clicked out and then back on again and no one had come to get the tray. They always came to get the tray. 

The door swished open. Crosshair, laden with food, scanning till he saw your jittery form on the bunk. 

“Hey, asshole, what's the big idea?”

They can't have really… 

But he just shrugged,

“I told you the deal,”

He placed the tray on the table, more carefully than before, and lowered himself to the bench opposite it. Elbows up, chin on folded hands… watching you. 

“Eat.”

…

“And if I do?”

His lip twitched into that mirthless smirk again,

“Then I'll take it you've come to terms with your… predicament.”

You stifled a shiver, already feeling naked under his intense gaze. 

“Wh-when… how soon… after?”

Your voice wobbled slightly and his eyebrow rose, like he wasn't expecting you to play along so easily. You flushed and turned from his staring.  

I can't believe I'm even-

“Tomorrow.”

Your heart fluttered, confusing you, and you turned back to him.

“I'll be back tomorrow… be ready for me,”

He left quickly, leaving you with your conflicted thoughts and lackluster meal.

You could swear this was… anticipation. 

Your thighs clenched against the warmth pooling through you. 

~~~

Your heart was in your throat. You could feel it, you knew that if you just opened your mouth in the mirror you would see it beating there. So you stared at your reflection with your jaw clenched, hair dripping cold rivlettles down your skin.

You looked at your last pair of clean prison scrubs and wondered what it was gonna cost to get a fresh set from your new clone warden. 

Speaking of,

The door swished open, and you looked up to catch his eyes in the open fresher mirror. He was looking bemused over your toweled, dripping visage. 

“I said be ready but I wasn't expecting you so… eager,”

You flushed, snatching the scrubs and slipping them on over the towel, dropping the damp cloth once you were properly clothed. He snickered, and you spun back to face him. Crosshair took a measured step towards you but hesitated, turning instead to gesture at the tray that had appeared on the table. 

“This… is your half,”

“I'm not exactly hungry, right this second…”

He shrugged, then rushed you. You felt the cold panels of the walls against your back as you were pinned to them. 

“My half then.”

“Wait!”

He rocked back, letting you slide out from under him to catch your breath. 

“Don't just… come at me like that,”

His hand closed on your wrist, tugging you back around.

“The food is for you, inmate. This,”

He tugged you into him squeezing your ass through the rough fabric,

“This is for me, My pleasure. Don't mistake that,”

You were tossed roughly into the bunk, the matress hitting the back of your knees to buckle them and you sat with a thump. He loomed over you, tugging off his gloves, a dangerous fire in his sharp eyes. 

“The only thing you decide is who gets theirs first,”

You trembled, looking up at the man knowing with all assuredness that he was going to take you. You knew it would be rough. You knew from every little intrusive thought you had when your eyes would meet his over some suit shoulder or another the past few months. 

…

“Take yours,”

A wicked smile broke his intensity, and he stripped off more armor. You noticed he hadn't brought a gun today… Clever. 

His outer shell dropped away, leaving him in his tight black under suit and boots. 

“On your knees,”

You made to protest but he caught your jaw, hooking his thumb between your teeth to hold you by your pallet. 

“Not your decision, On. Your. Knees. ”

You made a noise in your throat, all you could really manage. He nodded your head for you with a flick of his wrist before releasing you to position yourself, tugging you by your hair when you made to angle your ass to him; instead, he positioned you parallel to the edge. Pressure on the back of your neck and you collapsed, cheek pressed to the sheets and ass high over your knees. 

“Perfect,”

He purred. The mattress dipped as he sat behind you, firm hands brushing over the fabric guarding your rump to rest on your pelvis just before the small of your back. Fingers toyed with the hem of your useless scrubs, before slipping into them; feeling your hips, he traced them down your navel till he could feel the heat of you. You gasped as he brushed against the tender lips at the apex of your thighs. He ventured further, dipping his fingertip into the warmth of you to slide the evidence of your arousal back over the petals. 

A groan escaped him when he felt how wet you were. Dipping into your again, too shallow, but you wouldn't admit you needed more even as a small moan played across your lips. 

“Have you been wanting this?”

You didn't answer, hiding your flushed cheeks against the mattress. 

His hands withdrew and the bottoms were yanked down to your knees. 

You couldn't see him from this angle, just his legs casually sitting behind your exposed thighs… and his fingers, gripping those thighs hard. You could tell he was looking you over and you flushed even hotter. This was no good, it had been too long…

The muscles of your sex twitched in need, and you could feel slick fluid drip down your heated cunt to fall from your lips onto the sheets. You were growing more sensitive with your increased pulse alone. Not good.  

You felt him reach for your wrists, pulling your arms to fold behind your back. He held them like that one handed, and you could feel him shift closer to you, sitting on your calves to pin them, legs draping over yours and face almost even with your raised buttock. You felt his breath stir against your quim and you whimpered. 

“Remember, inmate,”

He had sensed your eagerness for what he was possitioning himself for.

“My pleasure, not yours.”

His leg wrapped around your arched back, bringing the distinct feeling of a boot sole against the back of your head. You almost turned to look but your head was pushed back down, ground under his heel. You whimpered again, unable to move with him restraining your body so efficiently with his own. 

“My pleasure.”

And then his tongue plunged into you, making you jerk and gasp as the sudden intrusion. 

He worked his tongue in and out of your cunt with slow, even drags that had you moaning weakly into the sheet. Groans rumbled through the sensitive skin whenever your walls would clench around his flexing muscle and he’d push deeper, digging his nose and teeth against you as he attempted to reach fully into your depths. 

Anytime you jerked too violently his boot would crush you down again, arms tugged tighter together to pull your hips firmer against his face. His lips moved lower, sucking your sensitive bud into his mouth with a whisper of satisfaction that made you squirm. A soft sob choked from you.

He held you tight as he flicked his tongue against your clit, making you jolt and tremble. Your legs began to shake as the mounting pressure started to build up to a crescendo…

And he pulled back, eliciting a pathetic whine from your lips. 

“You'll come when I want you to.”

Teeth sank into your ass and you cried out only for it to be muffled by his boot shoving your face into the mattress. Then he was working your cunt again, lapping at the dripping petals to make you gasp. 

Torture. 

They had sent him to torture you. 

The seemingly endless cycle of being licked to an edge just to have him stop cold, lean back and watch as you shook and squirmed for some semblance of relief… it was torture. 

You're not sure when you started to beg, but as another climax was yanked from you a choked pleading tore from your throat. 

“Please, Crosshair, let me cum!”

Boot. Mattress. Then his mouth back to your folds, lapping hard against your swollen and sensitive clit. 

You groaned lustily against the sheet without that pesky dignity from before, he wasn't gonna be able to keep you from going over for long. Every brush, every lick felt like it could be your undoing. 

You felt weak, trying to twist your wrists away from his grip but it was useless; his hand closed over them like a vice. Your body had started to shake and wouldn't stop. He pulled away again and you bucked against his hold, 

“Krriffff, Crosshair, please,”

He chuckled, drawing his tongue across the length of your slit from front to back making you sob and your pelvis to clench. 

“What do you want, sweetheart?”

“I want t-to cum… please,”

He pressed his thumb to your entrance with his free hand, adding the smallest hint of pressure to make you moan. 

“Be more specific.”

“Please, I want to cum… make me cum,”

It wasn't exactly coherent, the words spilling from you,

He clicked his tongue,

“If you just want to cum you can do that yourself,”

Another jolt of pressure, his thumb pulling your lips open slightly to expose your opening more clearly. 

“What. Do. You. Want?”

You whined under his boot heel, trying to wiggle your ass to push against his thumb, desperate for any contact. 

“I want you to make me cum, Crosshair, please make me cum! Kriff, please?”

He made a contented noise that rumbled through his chest, sliding his thumb forward to spread your petals, lifting the hood over your clit… and blew. 

Your senses exploded, all your muscles going tight at once and he lunged, sucking your button roughly, nipping his teeth against the bundled nerves driving the climax deeper through your brain. You came, rigid against his firm hold, unable to even cry out as your lungs were crushed by your own spasming. Fluid ran down your legs, chased by his tongue. There were sparkles in your vision, your synapsis on fire… and then you were spent, falling limp and gasping against him. 

He kissed your ass cheek, then bit it lightly before pulling your bottoms back up and untangling himself from your numb limbs. 

Crosshair rose from the bed, stretched, then reached for his discarded armor… confusing you,

“Was that really all you wanted?”

He looked over his shoulder at you, now sprawled prone over the bed, and smirked. A triumphant look danced behind his eyes. 

“What else might I want?”

Your gaze roved over his tight muscles, barely hidden under the tight black fabric of his under clothing. Down his shoulders to his hips, the tight buttock and thighs. Your appraisal wasn't unnoticed and he turned slightly, letting you look at him more. His chest, his abs… your eyes darted down to the straining fabric at his groin and a small, needy moan escaped you as your pussy twitched. 

“Don't you want to fuck me?”

A slight smile played across his lips, dancing behind his eyes. 

“Do you want me to fuck you?”

“Stars yes…”

There was no use denying it. Now that he was here, partially stripped and hard for you there was no way you were letting him leave. 

“Fuck me, Crosshair,”

He turned fully towards you, stroking himself thoughtfully through the fabric of his pants. 

“I suppose I could fuck you, How ba~dly… do you want me to fuck you, inmate?”

“Badly… awfully, Please take me, Crosshair,”

You ground your hips into the mattress, watching him standing there, stroking himself lazily…so nonchalant…

Damn it…

“Take your close off, inmate.”

He stepped back, leaning himself against the table. 

 You obediently say up, tugging the hem of your shirt up.

“Slower.”

The command hit you in your core, and your breath came shaky as you, slowly, tugged the shirt up over your breasts, then head… and it was off. Your nipples hardened at the sudden cold air, having dressed too hastily to find under things. Next came the pants, and you hooked your thumbs into the band. 

“Stand for those.”

You stood with a wobble, legs still feeling more like jelly than flesh and bone. The waistband slipped down your hips, your thighs, then fell to the floor. 

He palmed his covered cock as he took in your nudity. 

“Be a good girl and give me a little turn,”

His fingers made a spin motion and you swallowed, waiting for a sense of indignation, an urge to stop this that never came. You obeyed. Turning slowly, letting him see your back and ass, then facing him again. 

“Very good… now get on all fours, facing me,”

You flushed, but did as he said, lowering yourself to your hands and knees to look at him from the floor. 

“Come here, like that. Crawl to me, sweetheart.”

You balked for the first time in this new routine, flushing a deep red at the humiliating command. He cocked an eyebrow,

“If you don't want to I could always leave…”

You gritted your teeth, knowing you weren't likely to deny anything he asked from this point, and crawled forward. The bare panel flooring was hard against your knees but you closed the distance, coming even with his legs casually leaning against the table. 

“Now tell me… what do you want?”

You gulped, your vision completely dominated by his visage poised over you. Relaxed, in control, slowly stroking the outline of his length to tease you more than himself. 

“I-i want you to fuck me, Crosshair,”

“You can do better than that… what exactly do you want?”

He gripped himself pointedly through his blacks and your vision blurred with need. Lips trembling, a hint of pleading back in your voice,

“I want your cock…”

“Where do you want it?”

…

“Inside me.”

Flushing, you looked away, his knee nudged your chin to meet his eyes again. 

“All together now, from the top…”

“I want you to fuck me, Crosshair, I want your… cock inside of me.”

Your eyes stayed obediently on his, his knee still pressed to your cheek. 

“You can be nicer than that,”

Exasperation forced a frustrated sigh from you, causing his eyebrows to raise again and your jaw to clench. 

“Please, fuck me, Crosshair… I want your cock inside me… please…”

As the first plea left you a shiver went down your spine, a small thrill from the submissive action. You nuzzled the knee pressed to your chin, forcing his eyes to widen for a brief second. 

“If you want it so badly, darling, why don't you just take it then?”

He slid to sit on the bench proper, legs spread wide to either side of you, crotch jutted towards your eager, lustful expression. 

“Why don't you fuck yourself on my cock?”

He smirked down, rolling his hips subtly to challenge you into action. 

Perhaps he didn't expect you to take the invitation, but as your hands lashed out to hook his waistband, the fasteners pulled open with a sharp snap… he stilled. Elbows on the table behind him, still leaned in a relaxed posture, but frozen in a temporary trance. You tugged the fly the rest of the way open and his heavy cock sprang free, bopping you lightly in the nose making you flinch involuntarily. 

This broke the spell as he failed to repress a snort of amusement. You narrowed your eyes at him and he composed himself as well as he could with that glint in his eye.

“Sorry, go on,”

You nipped at the head of his bobbing member making him hiss between his teeth. A hand roughly caught the back of your neck pulling you up off your knees and into his lap. 

“I believe I told you to fuck yourself, inmate,”

His free hand grabbed your hip, grinding your bare sex against his shaft for emphasis eliciting a needy groan from your chest. 

You decided to comply, tucking your feet over his thighs for leverage, you angled your torso up over him. He rested his arms back on the table once more as you balanced your hands on his shoulders. His length slid along your folds as you moved and you shivered, poised with him resting against your entrance. Rivulets of arousal trickled down his velvety skin to catch in the soft brush of pubic hair nested around its base. 

“Well, I'm waiting…”

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath counting a heartbeat before opening them again. Meeting his eyes you couldn't help but think his features seemed softer from up here. 

Easing your thigh muscles down, you carefully pushed him into yourself, slowly… an inch, then withdrawing, dropping an inch further, making sure he was lubricated with you from base to tip. When he was fully docked inside you ground your hips into him, feeling his hard length pushing deep against your inner limit and you moaned in satisfaction. 

Finally, 

He was biting his lip, keeping his reactions to a minimum as you began to move on him. Desperate little hops with your hips to bounce yourself. He seemed to enjoy you doing all the work, eyes dropping to watch how your breasts bobbed in front of him. A sliver of his tongue darted across his lips but he didn't move, didn't react, as he watched you ride him, desperately using him to get your self off. 

You were frustrated, wanting it harder but knowing better than to ask for help. That wasn't what you were told to do. So you rolled your hips, bucking against him to find that bliss yourself. 

Leaning back, you put your hands on his knees, tightening your pelvis and putting more power into your hips. His calm veneer broke and he grabbed onto your hips, keeping you anchored on his shaft as climax started to cloud your vision. Your motions and breathing became erratic, taking his guiding force on your hips as permission to let go you ground against him with reckless abandon, hurtling yourself over the edge,

“F~u~...”

Your voice cut out with a strangled cry and he pulled you down on him, sheathing himself in you with an ecstatic groan as your muscles convulsed and clamped down on his shaft. 

He lifted you up, carrying you back to the bunk, plunking your ass against the mattress before pushing you over to lay on your stomach. 

Your arms were grabbed and held behind your back once more as he angled himself back into your warm cunt. His weight dropped onto your back and you were pressed flat under him. His hips started to pump into you, quick and sharp as he grew comfortable with your shape under him and he started to ramp up the force. 

A vulgar clapping of skin echoed through the room as he pounded into you, grunting from exertion as he took you hard. His free hand turned your head to look over your shoulder at him before dropping to grip your neck. 

“Do you like this, sweetheart?”

All he got for an answer was a series of sharp, high pitched gasps from the rapid snapping of his hips. 

“Getting wet for me like that…”

He groaned in his throat, grinding deeply into you making you sob in pleasure.

“You like the thought of being my cock slave?”

“Yes… kriffs sake yes…”

“That's right.”

Your breathing went ragged as he pushed himself up on his knees, pulling your waist with him. He moved his arms and hips in tandem to pump his full length in and out of you and you broke, orgasm driving your walls to slam around his thrusting rod until he couldn't take it any more himself. 

He pulled your shoulders up, arms sliding around your chest and hand cupping your jaw hooking fingers into your mouth. You were held against his chest as his cock twitched violently inside of you, a throb for every spurt of seed he shot into your warmth. 

He nuzzled into your neck breathless, tone softer than it had been,

“You were so good for me, darling… so good…”

You couldn't answer around his fingers, so you sucked them, sliding your tongue between them as he groaned. 

~~~

The last piece of his armor latched on with a click as you dried your hair, thinking about this new arrangement as you looked at the food still on the table… you weren't sure you could complain. Well you could but…

You glanced over at him, adjusting something at his wrist before he looked up, finding you fully dressed as well. 

…

…

“Alright… come on then,”

“What? C’mon where?”

He paced over to the door, tapping at the panel. 

“You’ve been released. The doors been unlocked for days,”

“Wha-”

As the realization hit you anger washed through your senses and with out thinking you grabbed the fruit from the tray, chucking it at his head. 

He caught it deftly and with a smirk in your direction, took a big bite out of the flesh, letting the juice run down his chin. 

[rvspecter]

IT'S SO SLUTTY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[mysicklove]

making out with izuku and he gets so into it that he cums in his pants

[lorelune]

maybe i'm taking neuvillette's whole water tasting bit too far but he would be SOOOOOO incredibly insatiable about oral once he figures it out

[tjerra14]

great news everyone, the floating Grazer LIVES

[weirdfreakshow]

You’re in a sawtrap where you have to rape one of your mutuals, who’s gonna get violated??

I can just pick random cause i love them all sm 😁😁😁 and im sure they can take it, for me ♡

[talesfromthecrypts]

Followers’ Favorite Vampire Countdown

24. Tae-ju - Thirst

I don't have faith. I'm not going to Hell.

[shovlison]

Thank you for the tag @shovson ! Are you happy now? And because I refuse to suffer alone, I shall ask @brawngp2009 @weegreenbean and @peoplesprincessgeorge to play along and tag me. Thank you friends! ❤️

[eternalslover]

Spot is one of those words that if you look at/write/type to many times it starts to look weird

If I could I'd constantly be feeling up Spot like holy shit. Luv his chest and tummy and hips and almost nonexistent ass hehe

YESYESYES OMGGG

spot never believes you when you compliment him. He waves you off even though his stomach does flips, "You're just saying that,"

now, he's hiding his face in the palms of his hands as he lays on your bed, chest heaving as you touch, squeeze and kiss aaaall over his body. He shivers when you graze your teeth over his plush tummy, biting the skin a second later, "Mhh- fuck. M sorry, m sorry, I believe you! Please just touch me already!"

"Touch you where, baby?"

"My cock, m so fucking hard for you, please,"

<3

[scarlettriot]

Sending a quick video to Kiri while you’re at the gym to ask him if your form is alright. You don’t get a response for several long minutes because he was too busy staring at your legs and ass to actually comment on your form.

When you do, it’s: Lookin great but I think some minor adjustments would help! Gimme a sec, on my way!

Because why would he text them to you when he could just show you in person?!

[astrum-aetherium]

this post has been in the passionate making for quite some time now, and now that it has finally found its deserved conclusion, i solemnly assure you that it's wholly worth the wait — i am convinced it will delight many. before we start, however, i need to implant an introductory inkling into your mind. picture this: going on vacation or merely indulging in the persistent, swelling summer heat with henry winter. it would be glorious. now that you're entertaining the notion, let me immerse you in the rather enticing concept of vacation!henry. note that this will be dirty — wickedly so. i haven't been able to stop thinking about this handful of scenarios since the summer started — and it's july. my mind is befogged to say the absolute least.

first of all, he would have to shed and thereby neglect his signature suits — the weather, certainly, would be the only insurmountable obstacle protruding his aesthetic, stylistic, and stoic path. he would simply lose control, unable to do anything about the sweltering heat — and yes, much to his displeasure, perhaps, he would be forced to abandon the multi-layered outfits and resort to much lighter clothing (if any at all). simply imagine him in those old money shorts or light slacks, summer-at-the-hamptons-style, with a loose, billowing, unbuttoned white shirt, sleeves rolled up and all. and sunglasses — god, the sunglasses. he would own the kind that have diopters in them, so he wouldn't have to alternate between his prescription glasses and his shades — he would already possess the best of both worlds. this, consequently, would lead to him rarely ever taking them off. think about that.

i want to imagine you dragging him out to a beach, maybe in maine or massachusetts (having forced him to drive you there in the first place via your convincing charms), or even him taking you on a yacht trip with his family as an eye-pleasing, gorgeous plus-one. or, you could always go on vacation together, just the two of you — he certainly has the money, and, undeniably, the motivation (the entire greek class did, after all, want to go into hiding in argentina, although for a vastly different reason). hell, you could simply go on a hike together as well. i know how uncharacteristic this sounds, but help me god — the notion thereof isn't letting me go. it has clasped a mighty grip around me. i simply cannot resist sharing it.

i need you to picture him in his light, airy outfit, hair disheveled due to the persistent sea wind, and wearing his expensive, dark shades — smelling of a mix of sunscreen, light cologne, and cigarettes. so tall and so ominous and yet so unwound, so absorbant of summer's grace. i would falter. i would never be seen again.

at the beach — and i've already received an ask about this in the past — he would be so unassumingly teasing, so that it would result in ache. actual ache. of course, being henry, he would bring a book, immerse himself in it, and not even consider getting into the water. the most he'd do is step in ankle-deep at your incessant requests and physical urgings. in spite of that, he would still be very indulgent — he would teasingly spread sunscreen all over you upon your merest inquiry, help you adjust your bathing suit and tell you if anything is awry about it for the sake of your modesty, whilst also keeping a curiously daring hand on your spine or your backside as you'd lie next to him. he would be reading attentively, neatly seated on the towel next to you — with you lying on your stomach in the sun and trying to absorb the rays even a little — and yet, one of his free hands would be on you. it could even go as far as his digits lightly grazing your glistening, waxy skin; this constant physical contact would result in various shivers arising all over your body and a certain, straining ache striking in the pit of your stomach.

of course, due to the beach being a public place, you wouldn't have sex there — unless you'd sneak out there at night and then consecutively complain about finding grains of sand everywhere — but that doesn't mean the two of you wouldn't relentlessly tease one another with the obvious allusion thereto. henry would grant you too many touches of an entirely indecent nature to be coincidental, including accidentally dragging his thumbs across your pebbled nipples under the pretense of fixing your bikini top. you, on the other hand, would do anything in your power to get him as riled up as you can — you'd carefully flash him on accident, tease him by exaggerating profusely whilst eating a popsicle, and emphasize swinging your hips as you'd walk back and forth from the shore to the water, fully aware of his observing you closely. all these things considered, i think it goes without saying — you'd end up with your ankles swung over his shoulders and him repeatedly sinking into you in the backseat of his car the very second you will have gotten in and driven out somewhere remote. you'd be gently mewling and crying for him to go deeper, his body so hot and glistening and slippery against yours, with the stale summer heat (commingled with the heat your bodies generate) and the scent of sunscreen permeating the car.

now, to the yacht scenario — admittedly, it's something i've been fantasizing and ruminating and losing my mind about the most. i can just imagine him sitting on the deck, maybe in the far back, with his legs crossed, reading a book with his sunglasses having slid down his nose a little. the wind would mess with his hair and his half-unbuttoned shirt, making him look all the more irresistible, even from afar. you would approach, then, lightly irritated with the fact he still resorts to reading whilst on vacation and in the middle of a picturesque lake, or ocean — disregarding both the breathtaking views and you. depending on whether his parents will be there or not, you'd assess your surroundings, and in the case of the coast being clear, you would muster up all of your courage and dare rip the book from his hands and plant yourself in his lap instead. irked and yet thrilled, he would, of course, welcome you with a firm embrace, flashing you a small grin — a grin that would only hide the merest bit of annoyance. his palm would drift across your thigh, bared by the wind billowing open your lacy beach robe.

"how tactlessly rude of you," he'd quip, trying his best at sounding irked, but unable to conceal his utter interest. exasperated and agitated with his behavior, you'd challenge him, "not as rude as your ignoring me all day." in response, he'd scoff. "i do devote my utmost attention to you during the night, however, don't i?" he'd remark, tilting his head to the side and involuntarily widening his smirk at the small, yet perceptible bite mark upon your collarbone, protruding from the lace. that, undeniably, would shut you right up — similar to the cock being slid down your throat mere minutes later in your shared suite as punishment for you having become so unbearably mouthy and audacious with him. in the end, you'll wind up with a different type of sunscreen all over your face — he'd come on it, hotly and thickly, only to leave you to the joys thereof and retreat to the deck again, flushed and yet centering his focus on his book anew.

whilst on vacation in a different country with it exclusively being the two of you, well — this is where we're offered so much potential. no matter the destination — italy, france, spain, portugal, malta — you would be able to find a way to mix his aesthetic interest with pleasure nevertheless, and constantly. you'd go see a library or an old ruin site in the morning (not after a refreshing round of morning sex before even leaving the hotel room), get impossibly daydrunk at lunch, shamelessly fuck against the window or even on the balcony as a result, go out to encounter more sights in the evening, get even drunker, and conclude the night with one last, gentle round with the windows wide open and the lukewarm night air billowing the curtains the same way your whimpers would swell in the silence.

furthermore, you'd fully indulge in all the wonders of sundress season — specifically the lascivious ones. more often than not, you'd forgo wearing any underwear, and make this noticeable to henry at, seemingly, the most inconvenient of times — at cafés, restaurants, museums, exploration tours, beach walks. this, of course, wouldn't specifically surprise, but nevertheless irritate him. in a mindful, protective manner, he would thenceforth try to keep an eye on your dresses and skirts out of the fear you'd accidentally expose yourself — only to ruthlessly punish you for the unnecessary added worry upon your first step back into the hotel room, without even taking that very garment off. by the end of that vacation, you will probably have been fucked in every outfit you brought. his diary, in latin, would speak of the same.

simply put, the vacation sex would be transcendental; hot, rough, sweaty, messy, desperate. you'd be forced to take multiple showers in a day, thereby going through way more bottles of sunscreen than usual. due to the heat, you simply wouldn't bear having sex at home or in your bed anymore — it would be on any surface proving cool enough instead, such as the kitchen or bathroom counters; desks and tables; against the chilled wall. he would have you flushed and panting, begging and moaning, thrusting into you so roughly and so deeply you'd threaten to disintegrate each and every time anew, simply evaporate in the sweltering air.

aside from that, and this goes without saying, he would pose unspeakable eye candy — too good not to indulge in. and don't get me wrong, i love a good suit, but i also love transferring the dark academia old money style to a much warmer time of year — where the light clothes and sunglasses come into play, and you'd therefore have to put less effort into undressing your counterpart. am i alone in this? simply picturing henry in a more summery outfit — specifically with shades on, which is why i keep referencing them constantly — is mellowing my brain. in addition, the way he would tease... so unassumingly, nonchalantly, imperceptibly — all the while anything but innocently. it makes my throat run dry.

i hope this post marks my stance in regard to the endless appeal of vacation!henry known. it's just such an indulgent notion to nurture. after writing and rereading all this, i find i am in urgent need of a cold shower. simply — god. i crave this, carnally.

[shield-and-saber]

so like, it would actually fix some broken part of me if sol fought this fucking hard for me specifically

maybe i need to write something

[samhaven]

Artfight attack for my partner ❤️❤️

[saetoshis]

omg mechanic gf himeko who makes little toys for you in her free time … tests them out on you all night so she can tinker with it the next day to make sure it gives you the most pleasure possible