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neontiger · 1 day ago

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~♡~ sunday morning ~♡~

MDNI 18+

~ In which you decide to become jason's favorite alarm clock ~ jason todd x fem!reader ~

Nothing compares to the sleep you fall into after a long night with Jason – well, maybe you can think of a few things he’s capable of that can compare – but after so many years of waking up with the sun your body seems to do it naturally. There’s not much you can do when that soft light creeps through the thin curtains on the window by the bed, paints the two of you as you lay tangled together, tugs at your eyelids.

You bury your face in the pillow. Behind, Jason sleeps peacefully. Only a soft snore greets you when you glance at him through heavy-lidded eyes.

Lucky him, sleeping like a baby. But he deserves it.

You watch him. Bask in the view of him streaked by the morning sun, the steady rise and fall of his chest with every breath. Your eyes trace the shapes of him, the hardened muscles, the scars making a landscape to explore. Puckered bullet wounds, thin slices of knives, short stabs of daggers…the Y-shaped scar that divides him, a straight line down his abdomen you always end up following. A thousand stories to read on his skin.

You move to nuzzle his chest and lay your head on his heart. It beats in your ear. For a brief moment it makes you sad, because your thoughts run to that dark place he came from. You hadn’t been there back then. There was nothing you could have done, but that doesn’t make you feel much better.

He’s here now. He’s alive, blood pumping through his veins. And he makes it back to you every night – he promised he would, and he’s not broken that promise yet. You pray he never does.

A deep breath lifts you a little higher. Ah, and the smell of him – musk and the hint of gunpowder. You never thought that would become one of your favorite scents, and yet here you are, inhaling and taking him in with all your senses.

Wait, you’re forgetting taste. His taste…what does he taste like?

You pick your head up. Jason’s eyes are still closed, his lips slightly parted. There’s a cut on his upper lip that he got last week in a fight, still healing, and a new bump in his nose from a hard punch he got last night. That didn’t stop him from nearly folding you in half and driving his cock into you until you were stuffed full of him and you were both satisfied. You weren’t complaining; he deserved to be spoiled.

He won't wake easily. A challenge. You test the waters with a kiss to his bicep, watching his face for the slightest twitch, but there’s none except the standards.

Another kiss, this one to a scar on his chest, a little wetter. You purse your lips and suck gently. Not enough to leave a mark, not yet. Another, closer to his nipple, a spot so sensitive that when he’s awake it sends a shiver down his spine. You close your lips on the bud and flick your tongue.

That elicits a response; the faintest twitch of his eyebrows, a wrinkle in his nose. His next breath is a little heavier than the others, but he doesn’t wake. You’ll have to work harder.

No more gentle kisses. You press your lips to the skin of his abdomen and nip, like some teething puppy. A trail of little pink marks follows you as you make your way to the patch of hair that runs from his belly button under the blanket. Jason shifts again, this time moving his legs apart, as if to make room for you. You stop and watch again. He might be awake.

Whatever. Breakfast is waiting for you just underneath the covers, a thick swelling lifting the blanket between his strong thighs. You continue your kisses downward but don’t move the blanket. Instead you kiss his legs through the fabric, feel the muscle tighten and shift. He turns his head and sighs.

You inch closer to his swollen member still swathed under your flowery pink blanket but you don’t dare bring your lips to it. Every few kisses placed on his covered legs or exposed skin causes a twitch. Sometimes a sigh escapes his mouth, a half-moan. He turns his hips and tries to chase your lips in what he thinks is a nonchalant, casual way, but you know better.

The teasing is fine, you think, but between your legs you’re growing sticky with arousal, and for your sake you decide it’s time to give him what he wants. You kiss the tip of his covered cock lightly.

Jason curls his fingers into the bedsheet, biting his lower lip.

You inch the blanket down, dragging it slowly over his engorged member, until it pops free at full attention. For a moment you marvel at his cock – so thick your index and thumb didn’t meet when you wrapped them around, lined with throbbing veins that ran from a base of curly black hair to the darker, leaking tip. Maybe you’d tortured him a bit too long, you thought, as a bead of precum rolled down the underside.

But that thought doesn’t make you go any quicker. He likes it, you know, letting go of control and putting up with you. You drag just the top of your tongue along the underside of his cock, tasting his precum – salty, strong – and flick off the head of cock.

It’s faint, but unmistakable. A grunt, a fuck through gritted teeth.

“I know you’re awake.” You wrap your lips around the tip of his cock and give a single suck before popping off again. “How long are you going to pretend?”

Jason places his arms behind his head, propping up enough to smile down at you. “I didn't want to disturb your fun. But don't stop now, baby. I promise I'll stay still, and you can do whatever you want.”

“Whatever you want, right?” Starting at the base, you plant wet kisses along the length of his cock, first up and then down again. He wets his lips, entranced with watching you.

He sits up to reach a hand down and squeezes your shoulder. “Come here,” he says. “Sit on my face.”

You laugh at the brazen, sort of awkward way he says it – but you obey, moving to straddle his head, still facing his cock with the intention of taking care of him while he does the same for you. He squeezes your ass in his calloused hands as he brings you down further.

It starts with a tease; his tongue light on the outer lips of your already dripping cunt, maybe revenge for what you put him through, making him wait. “Jason,” you whimper, squirming in his grip.

He likes that, the helpless moan that drips from your lips, but he also is incapable of teasing you. It's as much torture for him as it is for you. He flattens his tongue against your clit and drags it up to bury inside you. A tremble runs through your body, causing your hand around his cock to tense and tighten. You pretend it was intentional by quickly rerouting the move into a pump up his shaft and wrapping your lips around him again.

His cock throbs in your mouth, urging you to take him further, and a steady rhythm of pump, suck, up, down, is all you can manage as he buries against your cunt, eating like a man starved.

Shocks of pleasure roll through your body and release as muffled moans as you remain wrapped around his cock. His hips buck upwards on their own at the hummed vibrations, desperate to be buried further inside your warm mouth. You can't resist the urge to do the same, grind your heat against his mouth, making desperate circles on his tongue.

You break away from his cock and collapse with a cry as he gives a sharp suck to your clit. Can't concentrate on what you need to do when he's like that, when he's doing so good. You press your lips against his throbbing length and whimper.

Then nothing. No peak. Nothing but a wet burning crying out between your thighs and in your stomach.

You whine. “Jayy…”

“You stopped, so I thought we were done.” The heat of his breath so he chuckles brushes against your clit, making you shiver.

You weigh the options: sit down fully on his face and suffocate him – he'd like that, probably his favorite way to go – or take your seat elsewhere.

You move off of him. Jason makes as if to sit up, but you quickly straddle his lap and flatten your hands on his chest to hold him in place. He grins, hands gripping your hips, as if guiding you into place. You hold him steady and sink down, purposefully slow, teasing as you take him inside your welcoming heat a centimeter at a time. His brow furrows, a sharp inhale sucked through teeth, hands tightening and fingers curling into your soft flesh.

Full, heart racing, you exhale as you fully seat yourself on him. Jason smiles up at you, pupils blown out with lust. He reaches a hand to cup your cheek and guide your lips down to his.

The two of you stay like that, tongues slipping over each other and exploring, his cock nestled inside your walls, warm and exciting. His fingers rub your back while yours play in his hair. As perfect as the moment is, the sun streaking through the window and over your intertwined bodies, you can't stay this way forever. There's a pressing matter between the two of you crying for release.

Slow. You lift halfway and sink down, the head of his cock pressing that spot inside – you jolt and tighten around him, the feeling still new and fresh. Your fingers curl against his muscled chest, nails dragging over the sensitive skin. He squeezes your hips and bucks up softly to meet your next sink down.

You lean forward, grip the pillow around his head. His hands smooth over your warm skin to grab your ass and guide your movements. Blue eyes meet yours and lock in place, soft and inviting – contrast to feeling deep inside as pleasure swells and burns, his fingers squeezing and urging, his thrusts picking up speed and depth.

Forget trying to keep up; you give him control, letting your head fall to the pillow. He kisses your ear. “Tired already?” He says, voice raspy, thick with lust. “It's okay, baby. Let me take care of you.”

Consent takes the form of a whine from your lips, and he grabs you tight to flip the two of you over on the bed. Your head lands on the pillow. Jason reaches next to you for the unused set of pillows.

“Lift your hips,” he says, and you obey, lifting your butt off the bed despite still being wrapped around his cock. He stuffs the pillows under you to prop you into that perfect angle – perfect for him to drive into you and make you crazy.

Jason presses his lips to your ankle before placing both on his shoulders. You gasp as he thrusts – just once, a taste, just for him to see your face contort with pleasure.

“Want me, baby?” Another slow thrust, a full out, a steady press back inside until he's completely buried once more.

Your hair clings to your forehead and flushed cheeks. Focusing on him through lidded eyes, his hands caressing your thighs, you nod, urge him forward with a wiggle that shifts you on his cock.

“No, baby.” Jason leans forward, folding you nearly in half, so he can grip your chin. His thumb brushes your bottom lip. “Use your words.”

The look, the touch, the position – everything a reminder that you're so weak underneath him, that despite who you might be elsewhere here you are one thing – his.

“Want you,” you say. “Please, Jay.”

He smiles. “Good girl.”

Slow, arduous, dragging – each thrust of his hips pressing the head of his cock against your cervix, causing your walls to flutter and tighten around him as the pressure builds. His eyes never leave your face, but you can’t maintain eye contact, the feeling too great – your eyes roll back, eyelids fluttering, as his pace quickens, bringing you closer to the peak.

“That’s it.” He sounds out of breath. “My good girl…come for me, baby…”

Faster. You clench around him, nails dug into his knees, the only piece of him you can reach in an attempt to ground yourself. Your head swims, body tightening and tensing, as control breaks.

Your release crashes around him. He breaks from watching your face as you come undone to look down at where you connect – to watch as you swallow him, pussy swollen with hot excitement and from him, his cock slick with your juices. Each panted thrust, each grunt, each swallow and choke tell you he’s close.

“Inside,” you manage to squeak out.

Jason glances up. You force the word out again – “Inside, Jay” – and that’s all he needs.

It’s a struggle to keep his eyes open, to lock them on yours again, as his release crashes through his body, causing his hips to stutter. Deep-rooted instinct and need bury him as deep as he can inside you as he lets go, filling you.

He’s quick, grabbing your lower back to lift your limp body to get rid of the pillow, before laying his body on yours. Sticky and sweaty and burning under the sun. He remains inside you, throbbing with the last shocks of his orgasm, as his lips press yours.

“Good morning.” Jason’s mouth curves into a smile against yours. Another kiss, slow and lazy. He chuckles. “Good morning.”

You wrap your legs around him to keep him in place a little longer, exhilarated at the feeling of just…him. “You like that, did you?” No more begging good girl, back to pinching his cheek and giving back the same attitude he hands out freely.

“It’s a good way to wake up. I wouldn’t mind if…maybe you could be my alarm clock.” Jason runs his hand up your side to cup your breast. He tweaks your nipple between his thumb and index, and you jolt, clenching around his cock again.

“You’d…” You swallow. Fuck. “You’d have to stay over more often.”

The words sound dumb. Jason Todd wouldn’t. No, there was too much at stake. He wouldn’t risk putting you in danger.

But he swallows. His hand leaves your breast to cup your cheek. His eyes search yours – maybe he thinks you’re being shallow, you just want him for sex – but then they stop.

“Considering it,” he says softly. He kisses your forehead.

Your heart skips.

“What do you want for breakfast?” He asks. The answer is obvious.

#jason todd #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x reader #jason todd smut #jason todd x y/n #red hood x reader #red hood smut #red hood x fem!reader #jason baby ily

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nicsnort · 2 days ago

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Sweet Cream

NSFW 18+ male minotaur (Tyrus) x female reader

Contains: lactation, milking, hucow, overstimulation, romantic Valentine's date, size difference, and physical transformations

Word Count: 3927

Lore/World-building prompt

Today is Lover's Day, and you wanted to do something special for your minotaur boyfriend. He loves the idea of milking you, but since you aren't ready for calves yet, you find a witch's potion to help you in making his fantasies come true.

Same minotaur character and reader found in After Party but it isn't necessary to read that one first

You had been seeing Tyrus for nearly three months. The relationship was going well by your standards. He was as sweet as cream despite his imposing minotaur figure. After he learned how attracted you were to monsters, he was a bit overprotective while on dates if other monsters were around, but he felt no threat from humans. However, Tyrus still snorted at any human men he caught staring at you to scare them off. Human or monster, Tyrus did not need to worry about you breaking up with him to explore your options. The two of you got along well, and you found yourself catching feelings for this minotaur who could have been a one-night stand. Not to mention the sex. The sex with him continued to be as amazing as the first night - even more so as your body adjusted to the magical effect of his minotaur essence so you could actually participate instead of just letting him use you as a sex toy. Though that was still fun to do sometimes.

After every night together, he took such good care of you. But Lover’s Day was approaching, and you wanted to do something for him.

Tyrus loved to talk about milking you during sex. It was one of his biggest fantasies. But to milk you, Tyrus would have to get you pregnant. A three-month relationship was not long enough to consider something as permanent as a calf, and both of you were busy building your careers either way.

Then you saw it on the corner of the internet where Teratosexuals discussed their stigmatized desires but also solutions to problems they faced in their relationships with monsters. A link to a witch’s webshop that provided various potions and remedies of a sexual nature. And for sale - Moo-duce.

The lame attempt at coming up with a clever name aside, it was exactly what you needed. A potion that would cause anyone with mammary tissue and nipples to produce milk.

You ordered the potion immediately, and it mysteriously appeared on your kitchen counter the next day. Magic was great. The potion would take 24-36 hours to produce the first milk, and the results would fade after three days or so. You drank the potion a day and a half before your Lover’s Day date with Tyrus. You wanted to make sure your jugs were full of milk for him. There had been a warning that the mammary tissue and nipples would likely be uncomfortable during the 24-36 hours of growth and milk production, especially for first-time users. Tyrus was worth it, though.

After a couple of hours, your breasts started to feel tender. A few hours later, you noticed the first signs of swelling, indicated by your breasts continuously popping out of your bra when you moved too much. By the time you went to bed twelve hours after ingestion, your breasts felt like pins and needles.

The users had recommended massaging your breasts to alleviate the feeling. So, lying there in bed, you cupped your breasts, imagining Tyrus’ hands as you massaged them. You could feel the increased weight already. They had to have swelled a cup in size. Pulling on your nipples, you imagined how it would feel to have milk pouring from them. Tyrus’ lips already felt amazing when he sucked on them, but to have pressure released when that happened? A few reviews said their nipples felt as sensitive as clits.

You couldn’t wait.

In the morning, the pins and needles had faded, but now your breasts felt hot. You walked around your home with your shirt and bra off. Luckily, you had the day off. Sometime after lunch, you suddenly felt a cool tingle around your nipples. A wave of excitement crashed over you. Biting your lower lip, you slowly looked down with anticipation. Leaking out of your areolas were several white droplets of milk.

You danced excitedly. It had worked!

Raising a hand to your breasts, you wiped the droplets away. Your fingers lingered over your nipple. You wanted to tug on it. You wanted to feel the release. Breathing out slowly, you fought down the urge. No, Tyrus would have the honor of being the first to milk you. You wanted to save it all for him. You were meeting him for dinner tonight.

A few hours later, you started to ready yourself for your date. As you walked, you swore you could feel the milk sloshing around inside of you, yearning to be released. You had pre-bought a larger bra for this evening, but as you put it on, you realized it was too small! The instructions said to expect a growth of one to two cup sizes, but as you quickly measured yourself, you realized you had gone up three and a half!

Fuck. There wasn’t time to go out and buy another. Unless you paid the exorbitant costs of InstantImp, there was no chance to get one that fit. You weighed the options in your head. You had bought a cute but baggy sweater for a top. Despite it being baggy, people would definitely be able to tell you weren’t wearing a bra…damn it.

Opening up InstantImp, you managed to find the same bra in your new size. Of course, there was an increase in fees due to the holiday. At least you could return the other one you bought. Putting in your order, it took ten minutes for the delivery Imp to knock on your door. In your straining bathrobe, you answered the door.

The imp’s wings kept him at human eye level. He wore a bored expression, but his eyes perked up at the sight of you. His flat bat-like nose flared. “Mmmm, moo moo,” he commented, “Thirsty. Give tip?”

“I’ll report you,” you told him shortly, taking your package. The imp pouted and muttered something under his breath in its natural language before teleporting away to pick up its next delivery.

Imps were useful creatures, but their grasp of manners was as lacking as their grasp of the mortal spoken word. It didn’t help that the Imps bound to InstantImp had been created during the Great Incursion by the Demon Lords. At least, this way, they served some purpose instead of wandering in hordes, spreading corruption, assaulting people, and causing chaos. However, you were unsure if, as one of the last corporations, InstantImp was any less evil than the Demon Lords. Was it still the exploitation of labor if the creatures were literally created to serve others?

Finally, you were able to get dressed. The baggy sweater was less baggy than you had wanted, but as you examined yourself in the mirror, it was hard to tell any difference. If anything, it looked like you were wearing a padded bra.

At six, there was a knock on your apartment door. Opening it, you saw Tyrus, his big black-furred form filling the doorway, his horns barely missing the hallway's ceiling. “Omorfia mou,” he greeted, holding out a bouquet of red flowers - gallic roses, traditional for minotaurs, or so you’ve read.

“Tyrus, my handsome bull,” you replied, taking the roses and inhaling their scent. They were lovely.

“They are enchanted; they will stay fresh for over a month even without water.”

Your smile grew wider as you set them on the kitchen counter. You will find a vase for them later. Locking your door, you took Tyrus’ arm and headed outside. “So, are you doing to tell me where you are taking me yet,” you asked as he led you down the street.

“No,” he replied with a devious expression. “A surprise means a surprise. Perhaps I should blindfold you and simply carry you there.”

“A tempting thought, but I shall pass for tonight.”

“Are you sure? I could put you on my shoulders. I know how much you love to hold on to my horns with my head between your legs.”

“I believe I would be the wrong way around for the position I enjoy.”

“True. Then I could hold you in my arms, princess carry?” The two of you continued to make sexually charged banter back and forth. While Tyrus never did carry you, you completely lost track of where the two of you were going. All according to Tyrus’ plan.

“And here we are,” he announced after a ten-minute walk after getting off the tram. He gestured to a brickwork building with a large ornate wooden door that looked like it belonged in a castle. Old World was inscribed in iron-wrought letters above the door. You had heard of this place. It was a restaurant that catered to monsters and those from beyond the Rift, or the Old World as they called it. It was hard, if not impossible, for those from this plane to gain access.

You gasped and hugged Tyrus as tightly as you could. Your milk-filled breasts leaked slightly from the pressure. “Really? Are you sure it's okay? I mean - I’m allowed in?”

“No, this is just for me; eat elsewhere,” he said, barely hiding a smile as he spoke. Then, he could not keep a straight expression. His ears twitched with delight as he chuckled. “Yes, it is alright, Omorfia mou. They are doing a Lover’s Day special for those with human partners here.”

While plenty of food from beyond the Rift had shown up in restaurants, those recipes used ingredients from this plane and were changed to fit the norms here. This was as true to Old World food as you could get in this plane.

You danced excitedly, only collecting yourself as Tyrus led you through the front doors. A kitsune welcomed you, its tails swishing majestically, before leading you to the reserved table. It seemed they knew the sizes of those who would be eating at the table as Tyrus had a sturdier chair with his size, and you had a taller one to put you at near equal height to the table. Looking around, you saw all sorts of accommodations for various monstrous bodies. Unlike the human world, those beyond the Rift were used to adjusting for a variety of needs.

The dinner was a whirlwind of new experiences. The restaurant had created a tasting arrangement for the humans in the restaurant to give them the full experience. You tried roasted mimic, braised sunroots, fermented ooze noodles, and a whole variety of other things that you quickly forgot the names of in your excitement. You washed the food down with samples of Oakengleam Stout, Glowing Mushroom Wine, and Cinder Cider, the last of which caused you to breathe out a bit of smoke with each exhale. Finally, the tour of foods ended with a slice of heart apple pie.

“They say that those who share heart apple pie on Lover’s Day will have a passionate and happy year together,” Tyrus told you, offering a bite off his fork.

“Oh, that is very romantic,” you cooed, a blush on your face. Around the restaurant, several other people were making similar comments, as their lovers had probably told them the same thing.

You wrapped your lips around the bite he offered you, a bit more sensually than needed, then offered him a piece of your own slice. A romantic year you hoped for indeed.

Once dessert was finished and the bill paid, the two of you began heading to Tyrus’ apartment. It was a twenty-minute walk or so, but during that time, you noticed something. Your breasts were beginning to hurt. You could feel the pressure inside of them building up, needing release. By the gods, you needed to be milked.

“Are you alright, Omorfia mou,” Tyrus asked as you reached his apartment building. “Did a dish not sit well with you?”

“No, it was all delicious,” you replied. You leaned into him as you entered the elevator. “It was the most wonderful surprise…Under my clothes, I have a surprise for you, too; it has just gotten a bit uncomfortable…”

Tyrus snorted with anticipation, his tail lifting and curving to show excitement. “Well, then, let us get it off you soon.”

You giggled to yourself. He thought it was lingerie.

In his apartment, your excitement only grew. Your nipples ached, longing to be touched, pulled, and suckled on. Tyrus wrapped his arms around you from the back, pulling you against his firm body. His fingers played with the hem of your sweater, slowly pulling it up. “Can I have my surprise now,” he asked.

You hummed in anticipation, turning around in his arms, your aching breasts brushing against his firm chest. “Oh, yes, you may.”

Tyrus’ thick, calloused fingers dragged along your sensitive sides as he pulled the sweater up and over your head, revealing your plain blue bra. You saw his brow furrow and ears flick with confusion. “Uh, it is a very pretty color, Omorfia. A push-up bra?”

You laughed aloud. “That isn’t the surprise, silly. I never said it was something I was wearing. You see, I bought a potion from a verified witch to help make your fantasies, our fantasies, come true.”

As you spoke, you reached back and undid the strap to your bra. Pulling it away, you revealed your milky tits. “As you asked me on the night we met, can I get you a drink?”

The bull went silent as he took in your leaking nipples. You watched as his pants tented, his member growing rock hard at the sight of your milk-filled breasts. “Nomízo óti eímai erotevménos mazí sou,” he said in his native language as quietly as a prayer.

His hooves scraped against the floor as he kneeled before you. Usually, he would lift you up on the table or counter, but now he got down on your level. His large hands cupped your breasts. Your breasts had grown so large that they now overflowed his grasp instead of being engulfed by it. Tyrus snorted with pleasure as he lifted your heavy globes. His hot breath made your nipples stand at attention, milk dripping from their pores.

“Please, Tyrus. I need you to milk me.”

That broke him.

His broad tongue swept out across your right breast, licking up every leaking drop before finally wrapping his hot lips around your nipple. With a mighty suck, you felt the milk rush out of your breast, through your nipple, and pour into his eager mouth.

Your eyes closed, and your head tipped back as you moaned with pleasure. Gripping his horns, you held him in place. This was ecstatic. Each strong suck sent a jolt down your spine to your pussy. Soon your cunt was dripping as fast as your milk.

After a long suck, Tyrus broke off from your right breast and switched to the left one. You gasped with pleasure. With each strong pull of your tit, you felt your pussy clench like a slow, extended orgasm. “Fuck, Tyrus. I feel like I’m gonna cum just from this.”

He snorted, the speed of his suckling quickening. He took your words as a challenge.

The muscles of your cunt clenched faster and faster. Gods, you were getting close. Your hands tightened on his horns. Your hips rolled, desperate for that little bit of extra to push you over the edge. You were so close. You were gonna--

Then Tyrus broke his mouth off again, leaving you at the edge of your orgasm. “Noooo,” you whined, tears forming at the corner of your eyes in frustration.

His hands held your breasts up, and he pressed them together. Lowering his head, he captured both of your leaking nipples in his mouth and sucked. Twin streams of milk shot out of your breasts and down his throat. You screamed. Your eyes rolled back in your head. Your hips shook violently as you came hard. He continued to gulp down your milk, extending your orgasm.

Finally, your body couldn’t handle it anymore. Your hands released his horns as your legs gave out from the pleasure. Tyrus caught you, releasing your breasts to hold you up. Lifting your feet off the ground, he carried you over to the sex swing he had installed a couple of weeks ago. With surprising strength, even for being a minotaur, he tore your pants off you, but the sound of ripping cloth didn’t even phase you. Your cunt was still twitching with aftershocks as he placed you in the harness face down so your breasts hung like a pair of udders.

“Look at you, agápi,” he praised, his deep voice rumbling in his chest, “just like a cow. My little hucow with milk leaking from your tits.”

Another rip of fabric, and you felt his heavy cock rest between your swollen needy lower lips. You could smell his precum. The heady scent alone caused you to moan. His hot member rubbed against your pussy as he reached around you. Tyrus’ strong hands cupped your breasts once more, his thumbs and forefingers sliding down to pinch your nipples. Then he tugged.

Milk sprayed out of your tits. You threw your head back as your back arched with pleasure. Rhythmically, Tyrus began to milk your tits. First, the right nipple was pulled, then the left, repeat. Each tug on your nipples sent a stream of milk to the floor. You felt like a cow, and you loved it.

Your hips rocked, grinding against his cock. You wanted it in you. You wanted to milk his cock with your cunt as he milked your breasts. Your clit dragged across the silky skin of his dick. So soon after your first orgasm, it was already driving you back toward the edge.

“Tyrus, Tyrus,” you began to chant in sync with your milking. “More, I need. Mo-mo-moooooo.”

You came once again, your juice gushing over his shaft. Tyrus relented his stimulation. His callused hands slid across your skin and held your hips. He pulled his cock back and began lining it up with your unused but soaking hole. “Listen to that, just like a real cow. Usually, it takes my cum down your throat to do that.”

The flared head of his weeping dick pressed against your pussy, slowly sinking in. Each glorious inch sent you further towards the edge of sanity. It was too much, but even so, you wanted more. Through the mind-numbing pleasure, you tried to ask for more again. Still, all that came out was a series of soft moos and moans.

He began to move your hips back and forth using the swing instead of thrusting.“But this is what you wanted, isn’t it? To be my breeding cow. Just think how much milk you’ll make when you are heavy with my calf. I’ll keep you bred just so you are always full of milk.”

All you could do was hang there in the swing and let Tyrus use you like a toy. Each time he snapped your hips back to hilt his cock inside of you, the force caused milk to drip from your tits. As he spoke, his pace sped up. “You’ll be hooked up to a milking machine. Spending hours on end cumming from your tits alone. Then, when I got home, I’d breed you over and over and over and over and - gah - Moooooooo!”

Tyrus mooed himself as he came deep within you. You could feel his hot, creamy seed filling you up, pouring into your womb in search of an egg to fertilize. Once more, your inner walls clenched, milking his cock. You wanted it all. He was right; you just wanted to be a cow. His breeding cow.

With his cock still rock hard within you, Tyrus lifted you out of the sex swing and deposited you on the bed. It was going to be a long night.

~~~

You awoke to the bright afternoon light seeping into the apartment through the windows. Tyrus’ chest rose and fell steadily underneath you, his half-hard cock still deep within your pussy. Tyrus was already a beast in bed, but perhaps it was true that fresh milk was an aphrodisiac for minotaurs because he had fucked you for an hour straight, fell asleep, then woke up and fucked you some more.

Your body was so relaxed and delightfully heavy. Tyrus had drained your breasts of milk last night, but you already felt them filling up again. You were starving, though, and extremely thirsty. Carefully, you lifted yourself off of Tyrus, your sore but sensitive pussy twitching as his cock was freed from inside of you. Sliding off of him, your body felt heavy; your head, in particular, felt like there was more weight on it. Strange.

The movement woke him. “Mmmm, kaliméra agápi mou,” he muttered sleepily.

You recognized the first word, good morning. “It is far past morning, I think, but it is a very, very good afternoon.”

“It's Time for breakfast, still,” he replied, his eyes still closed. “Perhaps some fresh milk?”

He grinned and cracked his eyes open to look at you. A sudden look of confusion crossed his face, and he blinked rapidly. Sitting up to look at you properly, he stared. “Am I still dreaming?”

“No?” Your ears flicked with curiosity. Tyrus’ tail brushed against your leg. You looked down and saw that his tail was firmly on the opposite side, far from you. Turning your head further, you saw another cow’s tail, the same color as your hair, sweeping back and forth against your leg. Reaching down, a growing look of horror on your face, you followed it up…right to the base of your spine.

All tiredness in your limbs was forgotten as you bolted off the bed to the full-length mirror. Reflected at you, you saw your milk-swollen breasts, your normal body, but three very unexpected things: a swishing cow’s tail, a set of cattle’s ears in place of your human ones, and a pair of small shiny black bovine horns sticking out the sides of your head.

You screamed.

It took several minutes for Tyrus to calm you down. You sat at his kitchen table on his lap, sipping tea while he stroked your back calmingly. “The reviews and warnings never said anything like this,” you bemoaned.

“You are sure it was a verified witch? Not someone trying to make quick coin?”

“Yes, I mean, I am pretty sure…so many said she was trustworthy, people who are big names in the community…I followed the instructions precisely. I mean, my breasts grew more than expected, but that’s it.”

Tyrus thought for a moment. “Did anything else weird happen yesterday? Anything unexpected?”

You shook your head. “I just did housework and caught up on a few shows. The only unexpected thing was that my bigger bra didn’t fit, and I had to order a new one at the last minute.”

Tyrus hmmed in contemplation. “Wait, how did you get a new bra?”

“I used InstantImp.”

“Fuck. Tell me, did you anger the imp somehow? Did it say or do anything strange?”

You furrowed your brow, trying to recall. “The imp smelt my milk and asked for a drink as a tip…I told him I would report him…he…fuck. He muttered something in that demonic language of theirs and disappeared.”

Tyrus snorted with anger. “That little fucking Imp cast a spell on you. Their magic is supposed to be bound.” He sighed and pressed his snout to the top of your head. “Don’t worry. Until we figure this out, at least you will get to be the cutest cow I have ever seen.”

_____________________________________________________________

Other Department of Monster Affairs works

Hello Neighbor - m!werewolf x f!reader, teratophilia, knotting, heat. One-shot.

Sex Therapist - m!Incubus x f!reader, hypnotism, dubious consent, teratophilia, blow jobs. Part 1.

For other works see my masterlist

#minotaur x human #monster fucker #minotaur x reader #monster kink #monster x you #teratophillia #monster smut #monster x reader #monster x human #Department of Monster Affairs

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thedissonantverses · 1 day ago

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This is absolutely me being petty and feel free to ignore but as it concerns THE Scout Lace Harding and this fandom’s raging misogyny I’m gonna indulge:

Harding’s character was ruined in DATV is a take you could have sure. It’s not a good take but ya know. Oh you want reasons? Okay!

“Why couldn’t it have been Dagna?”

Because the literal entire point is that Harding didn’t have magic and that magic is returning to the dwarves on a broader scale. Dagna wasn’t relevant and that’s okay it’s cool there is more than one dwarf with magic out there. It’s expanding the universe. Again, in my opinion which feel free to take or leave, this is a good thing. It would have been cool to have Dagna but again I’m really glad Veilguard didn’t shove every unnecessary character they could to cameo and focused on telling a good story. Veilguard is purposely setting up a future where the dwarves have magic again.

“Harding’s character is different!”

Yes. It has been ten years. And she was a secondary character in Inquisition with barely a background because she wasn’t relevant. When you did interact with her you were doing so as one of the most powerful people on the continent. Now she’s a fully realized character and on much more equal footing with the team. Again, this is a good thing. Her story in Veilguard is wonderful and while I am incredibly biased toward her, her romance is a delight.

“She isn’t empathetic enough towards Solas.”

Ah here it is. Here’s the actual reason I made this post. Cause see there are people centering Solas’ feelings and character at every turn. Harding has EVERY fucking reason to be mad at Solas. I’d go so far as to say she can hate him but she doesn’t. He lied to everyone they knew and his original plan was to kill them all and tear down the Veil immediately. He’s responsible for the Inquisitor being forced to even be the Inquisitor and this includes needing to amputate their hand because his magic is the reason they are dying.

Yet Harding still gives more grace and empathy to Solas than just about anyone would in her shoes and yet people are still pissed at her for…telling him off? He killed her friend. He’s the reason her people don’t have magic. He’s the reason their empire fell too. What were you expecting????? People aren’t just mad they’re actually livid over this. They hate her and the writers.

It just comes off like you’re centering a man’s feelings over a woman’s because she has a spine and isn’t falling to her knees thanking him for wanting to destroy her world. Her entire arc is dealing with generational trauma and her story matters a lot to both the dwarves and Thedas as a whole. It is incredibly poignant and beautiful and it was so nice to explore the dwarven part of the lore through a woman who represents so much of what Thedas has become.

Once again it’s any excuse to hate Veilguard. Any excuse at all.

#dragon age #veilguard #datv #fandom critical #da fandom critical #BIG SALT #lace harding #scout lace harding #solas critical #tw misogyny

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moodymisty · 2 days ago

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MORTARION X READER HURT/COMFORT!!! MORTARION NOT FEELING GOOD ENOUGH AND HIS PARTNER COMFORTING HIM!!! NOT NECESSARILY SEXUAL; YOUR CHOICE!!!! I AM VERY EXCITED FOR OPEN REQUESTS!!!

Author's note: I love treating Mortarion with the love he never got <3 This is a bit short but I wanted to do just some tender cuddles that he's confused by Relationships: Mortarion/Gn!Reader Warnings: None, other than brief hints to Necare's abuse to Mortarion

This is the first time Mortarion has ever been fully unclothed around you, and the feeling he has is...

Unsure.

The scars that litter his body are not subtle, they aren't attractive. He doesn't like you seeing them. He doesn't like you seeing his bare skin at all, it feels unnatural to him, but the scars are what aggravate him the most. They don't have stories of hard won battles and brawls for honor.

They're scars from Necare; Exploration. Long straight incisions along his sides, his stomach, his throat, his back. They don't have a story of courage and standing stalwart- it's of being chained down, cut open as someone dug and took to see inside; How much he could heal back from.

The one your fingers are brushing against he remembers vividly. The coldness against his back, the way he dug into the skin of his chest. You caress it like it's just something curious, laying against his side with his arm pressed against your back.

You'd manipulated his body into this pose; Mortarion doesn't... He doesn't know how any of this works.

How to be intimate how to be romantic, he researched books on anatomy, not how to care for another. He felt angrily stupid when you pushed his arm around to lay in the nook you'd made, but the other options were either yelling at you and pushing you away, or admitting he didn't know.

So he sat in moronic silence and let you manipulate him to your liking, until you found a reasonable spot.

You continue to fiddle with the smaller of his scars, cheek pressed against his bare skin. It's so dark in the room that he can barely see that your clothes are all gone, but he can feel enough of your bare skin against his that it still triggers that feeling of shock in him.

It's such a foreign feeling to him, but he allows it. If only because he never thought that such a luxury was even possible. On Barbarus to see skin was so rare, to touch skin even more so.

He didn't think the broken remains of his body were worth touching, either; Underneath the protective thoughts of not needing such things.

It was far easier for him to deny himself than it was to feel it and thus the loss; Though now that he has your affection, there wasn't much that could tear it away. Other than himself.

He feels you push against him harder, gathering what little warmth he produces. He feels the gentle brush of your hair against his skin when you lay your head against him.

He can hear your heartbeat- you aren't asleep yet. But it's slowing, you're drifting off. He's glad for it, he doesn't know how much more of your affection he could take tonight.

He doesn't deserve it, but at least for a moment he could pretend he did.

#mortarion x reader #primarch x reader #warhammer 40k x reader #reader insert #reader #mywriting

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insidekatmind · 2 days ago

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Assistent- Berlin(Song Jung-ho)

Wearning: +18,smut

The room is suffocating, the silence between the hostages heavy as lead. You find yourself in a corner, trying not to attract too much attention, but you feel it. You know he’s watching you. Berlin. You feel his gaze like a weight on your neck, as if you can sense it even without turning around. You’ve just grabbed the coffee, bringing it to him as if it’s just another task, but inside, something torments you. A knot in your stomach, a mix of nervousness and desire that you can’t explain.

As you take your first step towards his door, your legs tremble, but it’s only for a moment. Then you take a breath and step through the threshold. He’s there, sitting at his place behind the table, his eyes focused on the surveillance monitors. You stop a few steps away from him, the coffee in hand. You feel that every movement you make, every breath you take, is weighed, as if every action is measured in that moment.

"Bring me the coffee?" His voice penetrates you, calm and authoritative, without a trace of emotion. Yet there’s a kind of hidden malice behind those words that sends a shiver down your spine. It’s not an order. It’s something more. It’s a game. And you’re the pawn, aware of it, but unable to take a step back.

You move closer to him, your heart beating faster as you feel drawn to him like a magnet. You stop in front of his desk, your hands trembling as you offer him the cup. He raises his gaze, his black, piercing eyes locking onto yours immediately. There’s something in his stare that makes you feel as if you’re naked before him, as though he’s reading every thought in your mind, every beat of your heart.

"Thank you," he says, but it’s not just a simple thank you. It’s the way he says it. It’s as if he’s giving you something more, something that goes beyond courtesy. His hand reaches out to take the cup, but he doesn’t let you go. His eyes never leave yours, and his gaze is so intense that it feels like you can’t breathe.

"Come closer," he orders, and the word is a command, one that forces you to respond, even if you don’t want to. Your body seems to move on its own, as if it’s already been trained to follow him. You approach slowly, your heartbeat quickening, your hands cold, your breath irregular. When you finally get close to him, he gestures for you to sit, but not in the chair. No. He motions for you to sit on his lap.

A wave of embarrassment overwhelms you, but you can’t do anything but obey. You sit down, your legs trembling slightly as you adjust to his position. The atmosphere between you two is thick, as if the air around you is too dense, too hot. He looks at you as if he were a predator, and you his prey. His hands graze you slowly, but it’s as if every touch is amplified, charged with unbearable tension.

"You don’t seem very relaxed," he murmurs, his voice a warm whisper that makes you shiver. His hands move across your back, tracing thin lines, as if he wants to explore you, as if he’s marking your body as his own.

The silence is broken only by your labored breaths and the beat of your heart filling your ears. "Stop for a moment," he says calmly, but that calm is far from reassuring. It’s a calm that hints at something dangerous. He holds you still, forcing you to stay there, overwhelmed by his presence.

The air around you seems to grow denser, charged with something you can’t grasp. Every little movement feels amplified, every touch of his makes you tremble. You can do nothing but obey, and yet inside, another part of you doesn’t want to stop feeling it.

You rest your hands on the table, focusing on the cameras trying to distract yourself from the fact that you're sitting on his lap. He leans closer to you, pressing his chin onto your shoulder, the warmth of his breath brushing against your skin. “Not interested in the monitors anymore, huh? Do I make you that nervous?” He asks, his voice a low, velvety murmur.

His hands move, sliding down your back, as if to soothe you, but it's not calming. It's a slow, sensual caress that makes your heart speed up, its beat echoing in your ears. He continues, his voice still soft but with a hint of a smirk in it. “You’re trembling,” he says, his hand now tracing patterns along the side of your torso. “Don’t be so tense, honey. I don’t bite.”

His fingers reach the curve of your waist, his touch burning into your skin even through the fabric of your clothes. His other hand goes higher, up to your neck, gently tilting your head towards him. His eyes are now focused on you, studying you. There’s a deep, dark intensity in his gaze that makes you shiver. His hand is still on your neck, thumb gently caressing your skin. “Look at me,” he orders, his tone a calm but firm command.

Your eyes slowly move to meet his, unable to refuse to obey. He’s so close that you can see the flecks of gold hidden in the darkness of his irises. His gaze locks onto yours, taking in every detail, studying your every reaction. “There you are,” he says, a hint of satisfaction in his voice. “I like it better when you’re looking at me.” He leans in closer, his lips hovering just an inch away from your ear, his words a low, almost inaudible whisper. “You’re an interesting one, aren’t you? You think I haven’t noticed you sneaking glances? The way you watch me when no one else is looking.”

You swallow hard as you look at him. He watches you closely, noticing the way you swallow. His hand on your waist tightens its grip, pulling you slightly closer to him. “I see you, you know. Even when you think you’re being inconspicuous, I notice.” There’s a hint of amusement in his voice, a hint of satisfaction. “You think I don’t feel your gaze whenever I walk into a room?”

You can feel Berlin's hand caressing your ass. The touch sends an electric shiver down your spine, and you have to bite down on your lip to keep from making any noise. His hand glides down, giving you a firm squeeze, a gesture both possessive and pleasurable.

“You like that, don’t you?” he asks, his voice a low rumble in his chest. He can feel your tension, the way your body responds to his touch. “You’re not very good at hiding these reactions, sweetheart.” He continues to caress your butt and every now and then he gave you little slaps while looking at you with a smirk.

With every soft slap, you have to clamp down further on your lip to prevent yourself from letting out a sound. The mixture of pain and pleasure is almost overwhelming, and his gaze, heavy and intense upon you, adds another dimension to the experience. The smirk on his face is maddening, taunting you with his power, but at the same time drawing you closer, making you want more.

His hand then moves up, under your shirt, tracing warm lines on your bare skin. The touch is more possessive now, his fingers leaving behind a trail of heat wherever they go. “Undress” he orders you, slapping your ass before licking his lips and looking at you.

The command is firm, leaving no doubt that it's an order, not a request. A mix of arousal and trepidation fills you, but you know you have no choice but to obey. You stand up, away from him, and start removing your clothes, feeling his eyes on you, watching your every move.

As you begin to undress in front of him, the air in the room seems to grow thicker, charged with anticipation. His smile only grows wider, his gaze becoming more and more intense with each piece of clothing you take off. He gives you a sign with his finger to make you understand that you have to do a spin around yourself to make him understand your entire naked body. You hesitate for a moment, feeling incredibly exposed, but his gaze is so intense it feels like you can't refuse. You spin around, slowly, feeling his eyes on every part of your body, burning into you and searing into your mind. You can feel his gaze like a physical touch, and you shiver, unable to control the way your body responds to him.

He leans back in his chair, taking in the view, his hand rubbing his chin as he looks at you. You feel vulnerable, but there's also something strangely liberating about it, as if you're allowing him to see a part of you that no one else has ever seen.

Berlin waves you over and slaps his right thigh to let you know he wants you to sit on him. "sit on my right thigh" he orders you. You approach him, your legs feeling shaky and your body on edge. Slowly, you sit down on his right thigh. His leg is firm beneath you, and the feeling of being this close to him is overwhelming. You can feel his body heat radiating against yours, can smell his cologne, a subtle but intoxicating scent that seems to invade your senses.

He smirks and squeezes your ass before letting out a satisfied hum. “Ride my thigh like a good girl,” he orders, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. The words ignite something inside you, a mix of embarrassment and desire. You shift, moving on his thigh as he instructed, feeling the friction of your body against his. He leans back in his chair, his hands on the armrests on either side of you, and watches you with an amused, self-satisfied expression.

"That's it," he purrs, his words a low rumble in his throat. "You're a fast learner, aren't you?" His hands grip the armrests even tighter, a clear sign of his control, of his dominance over you. As you continue to move, his hand slowly slides towards your back, tracing lines on your skin. His touch is both gentle and possessive, sending waves of heat through your body. His leg moves beneath you, providing just enough pressure in all the right places, and you can't help but respond, your movements becoming more involuntary, more desperate.

He leans closer, his lips almost touching your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "Keep going," he urges, his voice low and velvety. "You're doing so well, sweetheart."

You moan looking at him as you place your hands on his body to support yourself as you continue to ride his thigh. The feel of your pussy on his thigh as it repeatedly touches your g-spot makes you moan loudly. “Berlin,” you moan.

The sound of your moan hits Berlin like a wave, fueling his desire even more. He leans closer, his hand moving up to the nape of your neck, holding you steady so he can look at you. His gaze is intense, his eyes locked onto yours, and you can practically feel the heat coming off him.

"Say it again," he commands, his voice a low growl. He wants to hear you say his name again, he wants to hear how he makes you feel. You repeat his name, the syllables a strangled sound that escapes you with each movement. "Berlin," you moan again, and it's a sound he can't get enough of. His hand tightens on your neck, his touch possessive and demanding. "Louder," he demands, his voice now more hoarse, more strained. He's losing control, but he still needs to hear you say his name.

You moan feeling his hand on your neck and ride his thigh faster. “Berlin” you moan looking at him longingly. His name on your lips, combined with the feel of you riding his thigh, drives him insane. He's losing his carefully crafted control, and you can see the effect it has on him. His grip on your neck tightens, grounding him but also expressing his dominance. He looks at you, his gaze clouded with hunger and need. "You're mine," he growls, his voice possessive and authoritative. "Say it."

You moan feeling close "fuck, I'm all yours" you moan desperately and Berlin slaps you on the ass, growling satisfied and moving his leg under you quickly. The stinging pain from his slap mixes with the pleasure building between your legs, driving you closer and closer to the edge. You moan louder, the sound filling the room, and Berlin responds eagerly, his leg moving even faster, adding more pressure for you core. His hand moves again, running down your back, resting on your waist. He squeezes lightly, guiding your movements. "You're so close," he says, his voice gruff. "I can feel it. Come for me, honey."

The words are commanding, but they're also something more. They're a plea, a demand, and an acknowledgment of the power you have over him. He needs to see you fall apart, he wants it, and he's going to get it.

You moan and hide your head in his chest as you breathe heavily, you wet his entire thigh with your cum and Berlin smiled as he caressed your ass. "What a good girl".

He feels the wetness spread across his thigh, and that only adds to the satisfaction he feels. He continues to caress you, his touch tender but still possessive. “Well done,” he whispers, his voice a mix of praise and pride. He likes this, the way you respond to him, the way you surrender.

Berlin uses his free hand to lift your chin, forcing you to look at him again. The intensity in his eyes increased. He smiles and caresses your cheek, knowing full well that he has you in his grasp. He runs his hands over your body, his touch both possessive and tender. "You belong to me now," he says, his voice low and soft. "You're mine, do you understand that?"

His hands grip your waist, as if trying to anchor you to him, to make sure you're not going anywhere. The intensity of his gaze, his possessive touch, mixed with the occasional tenderness, it's a combination that's hard to resist. You nod obediently and hide your face in the crook of his neck.

He's satisfied with your compliance, and his tone softens a bit. "Good," he murmurs, his hand moving up to your hair, running his fingers gently through it. "You're learning quickly."

Berlin leans back a bit, allowing you to nestle into him, his body providing a solid, supportive presence.

The atmosphere in the room has shifted, the tension giving way to something more intimate, something more vulnerable now that you've given in to him.

#money heist korea imagine #money heist korea #money heist #berlin son jun ho #berlin x reader #park haesoo x reader #park hae soo smut #park hae soo imagine #park haesoo #park hae soo #song jun ho #imagine netflix

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lewyn-martell · 10 hours ago

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BRITT LOWER as Helena Eagan and ADAM SCOTT as Mark Scout in SEVERANCE → 2.04 "Woe's Hollow"

You know, there's a kinship between these two people that is innate, and I think what the show explores in all of its scope is the ways in which we're different in different environments, and does that sort of kinship carry over between characters, as you shift from innie to outie?

—Britt Lower, Inside the Episode 204: "Woe's Hollow"

My first instinct is to go to the part of my job that is sculpting the inner life of each of these parts of this same person. So, starting from Season One, I was much more in the headspace and inner life of Helly R, and Helena was seen much more in presentational environments. She's being taped, or she's being watched. […] This is a person, Helena, who has been conditioned into the position she's in. She's trapped within the same company [as the rest of the characters]. I think for Helena, it was this chance to blend into an environment that she doesn't get to be a part of, and to connect in a way that maybe she's never connected before.

—Britt Lower, GQ

I think there is that longing for connection and humanity because she’s been so starved for it. So even though she’s lying, I think there are genuine moments. There are genuine things that she’s filtering through the lens of Helly R.

—Britt Lower, The Washington Post

They're two parts of the same person. So there's obviously an inner rebel inside of Helena. That's an aspect of her that's not totally foreign to her. It is something that she has access to. And in Season 1, we see Helena looking at the innies. We see her studying Mark and Helly's interaction and having this curiosity about them.

—Britt Lower, TIME

That taking on this other version of yourself that maybe you've out-grown or you're at odds with, but it's still there—it's a frequency and a rhythm that you can tap into. Even in the scene where she's kind of laughing at the mythology of the scriptures at the ORTBO, I think that, probably, when she was a kid, she wanted so badly to laugh at these pretty ridiculous texts of her family, but she didn't have the ability. So here she is, through the lens of Helly R, getting to live out that [rebellion].

—Britt Lower, GQ

I think she’s getting a chance to have a laugh about it through this rebellious version of her. She’s like, “This is the filter who would get to do that and not suffer the consequences.”

—Britt Lower, Variety

I think that her meeting the innies has a profound effect on her humanity. And I think that she does share a sense of humor with with Mark, that's natural.

—Britt Lower, TIME

His feelings for Helly have only grown thus far this season […] Helly is a huge part of his life. Huge. And I think that a lot of his identity is wrapped up in how he feels about her and how she feels about him[…]

—Adam Scott, EW

Mark starts to realize: maybe getting Gemma out of here isn't my first objective. Maybe it's a little more important to take care of myself.

—Adam Scott, Inside the Episode 204: "Woe's Hollow"

The two of them are on a path. The two individuals, regardless of the innies or the outies, have been on a path of kindred spirit from season one. There's something physiologically that they have, this innate connection[…]

—Britt Lower, GQ

It's something we talked about a lot and spent a lot of time mulling over, the idea of this sort of triangle that's created with Innie Mark and Helly R. and Helena. For Mark's outie, Helena is someone he finds frightening and who is responsible for so much tumult and grief in his life. Yet, I think these two people, one way or another, have a connection of some sort. I'll leave it at that.

—Adam Scott, TIME

#mark s will never get up...#severance #britt lower #adam scott #markhelly #helena eagan #mark scout #helly r. eagan #mystuff #helly r. eagan x mark scout

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persicipen · 22 hours ago

Text

𑑛 “IN HIS HANDS” ﾉ ALHAITHAM. GENSHIN IMPACT

gn reader ﾉ words 1.4k ✘ you’re a mess (affectionately). needy making out. sweet bantering. also fingering. he gives you the best orgasm of your life ✘ ADULT CONTENT ﾉ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Whatever has happened between you two — an exchange of sorts, that’s for sure, filled with misunderstood sentences and apologies and laughter — now dawns on you in the form of his handsome body closing the distance between you two. Alhaitham grins at that, such a smug smile of victory painting his face because he’s well aware that your initial reluctance was because of your bashfulness.

Still, he’d appreciate it a lot if you weren’t so quick to call him a blockhead when denying what you truthfully want. He knows you don’t mean anything bad by it; just some harmless teasing to get back at him when he makes jokes about the time when he couldn’t speak right with a hint of self-derision.

“I’m starting to think you’re too scared to admit I will make you feel a tad too good, hmm.” His lips find yours once again, but this time they have no hurry — the kiss is deep and passionate and every inch of his body comes to meet with yours, trapping your frame underneath.

“You t-think of yourself too highly!” You bite back with a giggle before a low moan of contentment escapes your mouth.

For someone so inscrutable around the edges he sure knows how to work that tongue, tasting every part of you with utmost care. In between kisses, you realise how silly all this is. Why can’t you just let go of any formality and give in to such a splendid idea? If not for you, then at least for him; he seems to have much better plans and an even absurder mind than you ever dared to explore. Surprisingly, as stiff as he appears at first glance because no way anyone would assume a scribe has such lewd thoughts running wild behind those turquoise eyes.

Well, you aren’t so dull-witted either. A bold move of your fingers against his pants makes him hum a wee louder, which encourages you to act with a bit more urgency and tug at the buttons to get them loose. Albeit it takes but one swift movement from his hand to stop you from doing so — he grabs your wrist midway and pulls away just enough to look down at you with mischief gleaming in his red irises. The kind of gleeful expression only a man who knows what’s coming next would show.

“Tch, how impatient can you be…”

You should’ve counted his remark as a threat given the treatment that follows. You should’ve known that the greatest weapon of the scribe is his fingers. And so, with touching and pressing and tapping and massaging, he moulds your body into that pliant self. His name leaves your lips as a quiet sigh, all previous complaints forgotten thanks to such attentive and tender ministrations.

No matter how heavenly it feels already, being touched and taken care of like this, your gut churns with frustration and dissatisfaction since his actions are purposely geared towards getting you riled up instead of helping you reach any sort of release. Though you aren’t about to ask for that with words, not yet anyway. If he needs more incentive to keep going further, though…

You attempt to untangle your trapped arm once again, fumbling a little while holding onto his shoulder. He arches an eyebrow with curiosity when his own light gasp breaks through the facade of such an adept liar. Still, the twitch and swelling of his cock in his pants confirm how much it took out of him to keep silent thus far.

“Why won’t you let yourself go, too?” You breathe out once your wrist is freed. The pads of your fingers tease his jawline, ghosting over his skin until they dip below his chin to lift his head slightly. He is confused by your inquiry, but not discouraged, per se, especially now that you look quite motivated to get him hot as well. “You think the only one enjoying this should be me… What happened with ‘I also deserve some of it’, huh?”

Your free hand slides downwards to grasp his crotch. Through the thick fabric, you notice how hard he is; that must’ve been painful indeed. It’s enough evidence for you to rub and squeeze a little, which prompts a satisfied growl from him, a sign that you’re right on track.

“Later. It is about you, after all.” His response comes in the shape of kisses along your neck and collarbones, though never enough to bruise — merely a tiny amount of pressure for you to remember it’s he who left them there.

At times, it almost tickles how delicate his lips are upon your skin, like feathers falling down a flock of birds flying high in the skies. The warmth that emanates from them, however, reminds you of where else you’d like to feel those lips. Alas, he works on you with his thumb and his other digits instead, stroking in circular motions that cause goosebumps to run up and down your whole figure.

It isn’t long until you arch your back ever so slightly, trying to escape what’s beginning to drive you insane; or at least crave something more than that. Every nerve under your sensitive spots is alight, yearning for more stimulation than his meek actions, even when that palm of his brushes against every sensitive area that turns your vision blurry.

You beg him to slow down, to give you some time to relax after barely reaching your high; he is merciless, dragging the pads of his fingers against the spongy spot deep inside of you, trying to force out of you another cry of pleasure. It crashes upon you like thunder during a heavy storm. Alhaitham’s touch makes you clench and curl into yourself without an ounce of shame. All of your attention lays solely on those fingertips dancing so flawlessly through your throbbing body, driving you mad.

His eyes, burning with a prideful need to prove his knowledge, are focused on your glowing face. Absolutely mesmerised by the moans escaping your mouth, Alhaitham finds a great passion in making you a mess — it feels so good knowing he can reduce you to such a state, mewling his name with tears gathering under your lashes.

He takes you into his muscular arms, tongue licking your tender skin, leaving behind wet trails. A shudder runs through you as he pulls back, your body falling limply on the plush mattress below you. His breath is heavy and ragged, looking at you like this — with lust. Once he is satisfied, he lets go of the last drops of moisture that managed to make it to your thighs. He draws himself closer to you, resting his forehead against yours as he whispers sweet praise into your ear.

“You were doing so well…” Spoken in his breathy, shuddering voice, it echoes through your heart, down to your core clenching on nothing but the remaining wetness.

It only makes you feel even more sensitive than before, and you cannot help but let out an audible moan again. You can almost hear the sound vibrating throughout his body as well, and he knows he will not have the strength to stop now, especially after what just happened between you. He kisses your neck once more, his hand reaching underneath your blouse, running his rough fingertips along your skin.

You whine again, sensing goosebumps rise all over your figure at his touch. He begins kissing all of your face, leaving you gasping for air. You close your eyes tightly and try to keep your breathing steady, but his hands roam through your chest, teasing you in a way that seems to know your weakest spots — driving you crazy.

After a while, when his lips leave your skin, the scribe rests his chin on your shoulder, both of you staring at each other without saying a word.

“Are you still okay?” he asks softly, a gentle smile playing around his mouth and his fingers trailing gently up your stomach.

“I am. I’m sorry I ruined the bedsheets though,” you say apologetically, feeling the embarrassment creeping up your spine.

You have never done anything like this before. Never experienced anything of such intensity.

“It’s fine,” he replies, a small laugh breaking past his lips as he caresses your cheek with his thumb. “I wouldn’t mind if you did it again…” he whispers seductively, his gaze fixated on yours.

Your cheeks burn, and you nod slowly, biting your lip as you turn your head away from him, trying so hard not to show how affected you are. It isn’t easy, seeing Alhaitham looking at you in that kind of manner. How could you refuse this man?

#writing.#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin smut #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x you #alhaitham smut

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alastor-simp · 2 days ago

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Slow Dance With You - Sylus x Fem Reader

♦︎ 𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜- 𝚂𝚢𝚕𝚞𝚜 𝚡 𝙵𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

♦︎ 𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎- 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚁𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎

♦𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜- 𝚂𝚢𝚕𝚞𝚜 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛, 𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎, 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚜𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎, 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏, 𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏, 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚒𝚊𝚗𝚘, 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚌 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍, 𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍, 𝙽109 𝚉𝚘𝚗𝚎, 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙳𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚎, 𝙰𝚍𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚃𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜

♦𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜- 𝙶𝚘𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚕𝚢 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚘 𝚊 𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚂𝚢𝚕𝚞𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙸 𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚂𝚢𝚕𝚞𝚜 𝙼𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 2, 𝚜𝚘 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚘 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚘. 𝙴𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢 :)

♦𝙲𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚝- 𝚍𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛 -> @adornedwithlight

"Yawnnnnn." Opening your mouth like a fish, you sounded out your boredom, as your body laid against the large leather couch in the living room. You were in the Onychinus base, located in the N109 zone, having been invited by Sylus himself to converse with one another, only for him to be called away for an important call, leaving you alone for a bit. It saddened you that he had to go, but you knew he was an important man, being the leader and all. The two of you had gotten closer ever since your first encounter in the N109 zone, with him erasing the man in front of you with his Evol. The way about him irked you, since you believed he was the cause for the explosion that killed your loved ones. It soon came to be that he was never the cause, making you feel extremely horrible for pinning it on him, the extreme hate for him evaporating without a trace.

He had declared the two of you as "besties", but over time, something else had sprouted between the both of you. His sassy remarks and cute nicknames were growing on you, face becoming flushed whenever he called you "kitten." His demeanor around you had changed as well, his once cold eyes filled with warmth whenever you were around, devilish smirk morphing into a kind smile that could melt your heart. The relationship between the two of you was becoming complicated, not so much friends but no lovers either, it frustrated you, wanting to become closer with him, yet fearing it at the same time since the both of you were enemies.

Stretching your legs, you removed yourself from the couch, heading towards the door, leading to the long hallway. You might as well go explore a bit, since sitting around doing nothing was getting tiring. There were many rooms in the base, each reflecting a lot of Sylus's personality, one room containing a gym where he worked out, another room filled with vinyls showing his love for music. Picking a random door, you grasped the handle, opening it slowly to peak inside.

The room was dimly lit, only source of light coming from the window and the lamp that was lit. Books were layered in stacks, on the floor and in the shelves. Various instruments were in random places in the room, spotting a violin and a beautiful elegant piano in the center

Stepping inside, you took the whole room in, until your eyes locked back onto the piano. It was crafted perfectly, figuring Sylus must have spent a fortune for a piano like this. Lifting up the board, fingers traced along the keys, pressing down to allow a note to echo throughout the whole room. It has been a while since you have ever played a piano before, remembering how much you enjoyed it when you were little. Sitting on the chair, you took a deep breath, hands hovering over the keys, until they pressed down, a soothing melody playing out. As you carried on playing, your body swayed with the music, mouth opening to sing.

youtube

🎶𝘚𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶

𝘐 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶

𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘰𝘺𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩

𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘮𝘰𝘰𝘵𝘩, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘶𝘦𝘴

𝘐 ��𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶

𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶

𝘐 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶

𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦?

𝘐'𝘷𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘐'𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘷e

𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶🎶

Finishing the last note, your song was finished, leaving you pleased. Sounds of clapping came from behind you, making you turn, seeing a tall figure standing at the door. It was Sylus leaning against the door frame, crimson eyes gazing at you while wearing his signature smirk. "Didn't know you could sing, kitten." Flustered that he had caught you, you turned away from him. "You never asked." You said, hands motioning to close the top board, covering the piano keys again. Footsteps thudded behind you, indicating that Sylus was walking closer. A hand had motioned to grab your chin, allowing him to observe you. "Acting shy now, are we?" He was teasing you, making you put your hands on his chest, pushing him back. "Stop messing with me." You said, eyes glaring at him. Appearing apologetic, Sylus patted your head, "I'm not teasing you, sweetie. Your singing was incredibly angelic. I quite enjoyed it" His eyes soften, hand going from your chin to trace your cheek. Blushing harder, you dropped your head down, feeling more embarrassed then before, "Thanks."

Sylus chuckled, his cold eyes staring at you warmly, something not many got to see when they met the Onychinus leader. Recalling the lyrics of the song, he had an important question to ask you. "So? Who is it?" Eyeing him with confusion, you pondered what he meant. Noticing your confusion, Sylus decided to expand his question, "Who is the person you want to slow dance with, sweetie?" Oh, that's what he meant, the only answer you could provide him was a shrug, saying the song wasn't really dedicated to anyone, just something you came up with in the moment. Sylus, removing his hands from you, stood straight, eyes looking down at you. "Well, do you want to?" Sylus bowed, hand held in front of you, waiting for you to take it.

His actions stunned you, not expecting him to do this. "You want to slow dance? With me?" Sylus narrowed his eyes, "Do you see someone else here in the room, sweetie? Besides, it wouldn't be the first time we danced." Recalling the mission from the past, you remembered that you had slowed dance before, but that was part of the mission, wasn't it. "That was different back then...um..." Unable to word how you felt, you casted your eyes down. His narrow eyes soften, "Well this won't be like back then, and I want to dance with you." Looking back at him, you saw how tender his gaze was, showcasing how sincere he was. Pushing back the feelings of unease, you agreed, placing your hand in his.

Smiling further, Sylus pulled you closer, hand placed against your waist, face getting closer to his chest. You flushed, but kept it cool, motioning one of your hands to his shoulder. His Evol had appeared, flowing to a record player that was on the other side of the room, allowing soft classical music to play. The both of you then began to sway to the rhythm, yet you were a bit tense, not being a really good dancer, afraid you would step on his shoes. "Heh, relax kitten. It's just you and me here." Sylus gave you a sincere smile, hoping it would be enough to calm you down. "Sorry....I don't want to step on your shoes." You looked down below, monitoring your feet, hoping they wouldn't step on top of his. Stopping for a second, he inched his face closer, forehead pressing against yours. "My shoes are not important right now. The only thing important is the both of us dancing together."

Your heart felt like it was gonna beat out of its chest, butterflies fluttering inside your stomach. Only he could make you feel like this. Smiling up at Sylus, you nuzzled your forehead back against his, causing him to chuckle. The dancing continued, the tense feelings disappearing without a trace. Leaning in, you placed your head against his chest, wanting to be closer to him, allowing you to hear his heartbeat. Sylus didn't utter a word at your actions, smiling more at how adorable you were, his hand on your waist pulling you closer. After awhile, the record player had ceased playing, yet the two of you remained in the same position, slow dancing to your heart's content, never wanting it to end

-END-

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sirfrogsworth · 2 days ago

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I just had a nightmare about my mom. They happen from time to time. I think it is because I don't think about my mom. Not yet.

My dad's death was on his own terms. He was mostly comfortable. I was at his side the entire time so he was never alone. He had been ready to die for quite some time.

My mom's death was a horror show. She was in so much pain before she got COVID. Then she was put in a glass bubble all alone. She had two masks trying to give her enough oxygen. Yet she was gasping for air all the same. Our last conversation was on the phone. She was terrified. And all she could think about was how my dad was. She kept asking if he was okay. She was worried that COVID would kill him too. She probably thought infecting him was her fault. The masks were too loud and she was hard of hearing. She could not hear my answers. I could not tell her my dad was okay. That the vaccine saved him. And my last words to her were me yelling "I LOVE YOU" in the hopes she could hear it. But I don't think she could.

I can't think of a worse way to go. In pain. Unable to breath. Alone. Terrified. And feeling guilt that you may have killed the person you loved the most.

So I think about my dad instead. I mourn him first. And I push what happened to my mom out of my mind as best I can. Because I am sick. I am tired. And I do not have the energy to process what happened to her.

But when I sleep I have no power over my dreams. And her nightmare becomes my nightmare.

I'm working on getting a therapist. I found one I like. But she has a waitlist. And it's been over a month. I had a list of other possibilities, but I am just too tired to go over it right now. And I'd really like to try the one I found. She seemed like a good fit. I don't know if it is better to wait a bit longer or explore other options.

I woke up from my nightmare so angry. I kept thinking the world deserved my mom and COVID took her. The world doesn't deserve Trump and COVID spared him. His incompetence helped kill her and his wealth helped save him.

That's just not fair.

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4urvalidation · 2 days ago

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can you make a story where rafe and reader broke up 3 years ago, but she comes back to Outer Banks only now she has a daughter(who looks just like Rafe) and a husband (Whom she doesn't really love) and rafe still loves her

Oh, why you gotta make the wheels in my brain turn like this 😩 Not a huge expert when it comes to writing anything Y/N related, but willing to give it a go.

Didn't expect to connect to this as much as I did, so hopefully if the inspiration still flows once I'm done with A Case of Limerence I might explore this story further.

As for now, please enjoy this little blurb.

SUMMARY: Three years ago, Kook!Princess and Rafe began a secret love affair that lasted for an entire summer, until her parents found out and forbade Rafe from ever seeing their daughter again. Now, twenty-two years old and somewhat sober, he spends his days working a dull office job at his father's company wondering if he'll ever get to relive the golden days of his teenage years.

That's when she shows up - his first love. His only love. With a husband and baby and Rafe's heart is almost on the brink of breaking all over again until he realizes the kid looks exactly like him.

CONTENT WARNING: Mentions of alcohol and drug use; sexual content - nothing too graphic but the implications are strong; Rafe is not a psycho killer, but a drug addicted fratboy;

━━━━━━━━━━━━ ⸰ .° ☆ ° ☆ °. ⸰ ━━━━━━━━━━━━

The term Kook Princess has been thrown around a lot in these parts, but no one seemed to be embodying it as perfectly as her. She was the golden girl; the good girl. With a pair of rich, uptight parents, designer dog and curfew. Never seen at parties, but always invited and if she were to come, she was always quiet, subdued - soft drink in a red solo cup pressed tightly to her lips; her loud best friend never leaving her side.

Rafe doesn’t know what it was that made him so attracted to her. With her honey blonde hair and soft sun kissed skin, she was light years away from his usual type, but then again, not quite. She was forbidden; out of reach, a conquest if you will and as a man who was never taught the word no, he too saw her as something he simply must get his hands on.

He spent his days scheming how to get close. They had no mutual friends, she rarely left the house and when she did she was always with her stupid best friend or her parents and yes - Rafe was fearless, but not to the point where he would openly embarrass himself in front of two of the most influential people on the island.

Days passed and he forgot about her soft smiles and the way those long legs looked in all those frilly short skirts. That is, until fate decided to butt in.

It was hot - the hottest summer they have had in years and it was his sister’s birthday and he was so sick and tired of her and all her stupid friends but then he saw a glimpse of honey blonde hair and freckled skin and Rafe’s entire world stopped turning. She was smiling: perfect white teeth on an even more perfect face and there were so many girls in the world; so many girls in his backyard in skimpy swimsuits, but at that moment, Rafe only had eyes for her.

He had no idea she and his sister were friends; he had no idea she even had friends aside from that loud, annoying one and yet, there she was: taking his breath away in a bright red bikini.

The following events happened in a blur. He had been drinking since 10 am that morning - perks of having his father and stepmonster away for the weekend - and he’d been laying on his bed, joint in hand when she walked in.

“Sorry,” Her voice filled his room and only when his gaze met hers was when Rafe realized her eyes were hazel and not brown like he originally thought. “I can’t find the bathroom.” He put the joint between his lips; his limbs limp with relaxation and he wanted to stand up; was desperate to move towards her and feel the warmth emanating from her body, but he was too fucking high for all of it.

“It’s okay.” She giggled just then and it was the best sound Rafe had heard in years. “I’ll find my way.”

To say that he was embarrassed was an understatement. He was fucking humiliated and so out of his mind, he could barely think of anything but that. The moment replayed in his head like a broken record of sorts; her soft smile on constant repeat and just as he was about to force himself out of the scenario the door of his bedroom opened again.

This time she had put on shorts: the tiniest Rafe had ever seen and her bright red bikini was blinding and hot and fuck - she was so hot and he was so gone. He’d barely made any conversation with the girl and he could already imagine their entire life together. What the fuck was wrong with him?

“Here,” Sitting on the edge of his bed, she handed him a tall glass of water and watched as he drank. Her eyes were insane; the freckles on her face an array of constellations and she smelled sweet like cupcakes or strawberries and fuck fuck fuck he wanted to eat her. Trace his lips and tongue in the crook of her neck; taste her mouth, taste her skin, taste her …

“Feeling better?” He heard her say, her voice quiet and meek just like she had been all those years he’s been aware of her presence.

“Yeah.”

Rafe doesn’t remember how they ended up kissing. How the weight of her body moved on his lap; how she let him run his needy hands all over her body and kiss all that exposed skin. His shirt was off and she was practically naked, in his bed - just like all those times he had fantasized about her, except this was so much better.

His name escaped her lips softly, always in a form of a muffled moan and suddenly all he wanted to do is make her feel so fucking good, she had no other choice but to scream his name. And she did. She was so loud he had to cover her mouth with his hand and feel her lips spread into a grin against the calloused skin of his palm.

He was bewitched.

Charmed.

Fucking obsessed with her and for some reason this perfect, golden girl who could do no wrong felt the same.

That entire summer she had him off balance; sneaking inside her home; always through her bedroom window and straight into her bed where they made crazy senseless love. She was going away after the summer but Rafe didn’t care. He loved her. Sure, he never made it his mission to let her know this, but actions spoke louder than words and boy did he show her just how much she made him feel.

He was going to tell her - Rafe constantly made promises to himself but then she would give him those eyes and every word in the English language would suddenly disappear from his brain.

On the night he finally decided to let her know just how fucking in love he was with her, there sat her father. Sternly, with a pin straight back, he told Rafe to leave and never return. To forget her because she had already forgotten him. What they had that summer meant nothing and will remain nothing because Rafe Cameron had no business being around his perfect daughter.

“I love her.” Rafe said weakly, but it went unregistered. The man didn’t care about that. He could care less about the way his heart burst whenever he was around her; how he was willing to do anything, be anything… All her father wanted was for Rafe to leave his little girl alone.

She was smart, ambitious - with a bright future and big dreams and all he had was a bad temper and drug problem.

It all ended that night.

She was gone without a trace. So gone to the point where not even that best friend of hers knew where she’d disappeared to.

Days, weeks, months passed and Rafe tried moving on; dated girls that looked like her and when that didn’t work he started dating girls that looked nothing like her. He drank and smoked and snorted. He traveled the world and caused havoc and went to rehab and relapsed. He made his father proud and then disappointed him again and again and again and before Rafe knew, three years had passed by and he was twenty two and bitter.

His hair was thinning and he might’ve been a whole year sober, but every now and then he’d be itching for a drink and peruse the liquor aisle wondering which bottle of whiskey was worth enough to ruin his life with. It was this exact thought that had been haunting him one June evening when fate decided to interfere again.

It was his sister’s twentieth birthday and they were having her celebratory dinner at the country club for some reason. She’d brought her useless excuse of a boyfriend and because that wasn’t awkward enough, his father decided to invite one of their new hires: a software engineer named Marjorie that clearly had the hots for Rafe, but he was far too desperate for a drink to pay any attention to her.

And then she appeared.

Her laughter - that rambunctious, delicious sound - was the first thing Rafe heard before actually seeing her. And when he finally did it was like all pieces of his long ago broken heart finally fell into place. Her hair was gold and her legs were long and sure, she might’ve ditched the frilly skirt for a pair of sensible white shorts, but she still looked just as perfect as he remembered.

His gaze followed her as she sauntered into the room; her parents behind her and a man and a child and there was Rafe’s heart breaking all over again. She hadn’t seen him and it was probably for the best, but then Sarah turned slightly and suddenly, she was all his sister could see.

Smiling, Sarah had called her entire fucking family over. The scowl on her father’s face was unmistakable and in a matter of seconds there they were: having awkward small talk and introducing significant others and she was married.

The diamond on her engagement ring was blinding, just like her smile and when she finally looked at him, it was like that very first time in his room when she begged him to kiss her and he couldn’t dare say no.

“Hello.” She nodded at him like they used to be coworkers, but her gaze lingered - drinking him in like the whiskey he was so desperate to taste again.

“And who is this young lady?” He heard Sarah coo at the small child hiding her face in the crook of her husband’s neck and the word made Rafe sick.

“This is Phoebe. Phoebe… baby, don’t be shy. Come now, say hi.” The tone of her voice softened and silently he watched her pet her daughter’s head until the kid was ready to face the audience. And when she did, a pair of wide, curious blue eyes were looking straight at him.

Fuck.

It was like looking in a mirror.

A tiny, chubby cheeked mirror.

Even the way their hair was thinning is the same.

Rafe swallowed.

She was looking at him, those hazel eyes dancing on his face expectedly as if waiting to see whether the realization has hit him yet. All those years ago… she didn’t disappear because she had stopped loving him or because her parents found out…

She was pregnant.

He had gotten her pregnant.

He looked at her and then at his daughter…

His daughter.

He has a fucking daughter.

A tiny little girl in a baby blue dress and pigtails.

Their eyes met again and it’s as clear as day - she knows he knows and Rafe watched her answer his silent question with a single, curt nod.

He is a father.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe fanfiction #outerbanks rafe #request #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron smut #rafe x you #rafe x y/n #rafe x oc #writing

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carnelianfoxx · 2 days ago

Text

Gender thoughts

So I don’t think I’m gonna go full transfem.

I would rather just be myself. I want to be pretty, while also being handsome. There’s so much about identity I can explore that I haven’t even tried yet! Despite the political climate, I’m going to try those things one day.

I like the name “Nat” a lot, and I like they/them as my pronouns a lot too. I think that’s as far as I’ll go. “Nathan” isn’t a deadname and I won’t kill someone over being called he/him (I’m extremely masculine presenting irl too tbh, so I get it).

I’m me. That is all.

#personal

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sir-myst-cake · 20 hours ago

Text

First post on here and it's a rant!! If you want more cool takes you should totally follow me as I'll be posting here more often and have totally cool art to share‼️‼️

I'm not completely sure how to tag this? I'm talking about the ships in a positive light so I think it's okay, and besides, I want lots of peeps to see it, I'm aware I probably won't change many people's minds at all, but it's okay lol, I just want Anti's to see they genuinely have a nothing burger and need to leave people alone.

This is a mostly TikTok only problem regarding Beast x Ancient's (thank god) but I've seen my fair share elsewhere like on here. So lemme counter every argument I've seen so far cause you got a lot of time on your hands to be telling people to off themselves over Cookie ships 😭 put that hate into people who actually deserve it.

BILLFORD COMPARISON

Regarding ShadowVanilla specifically, people have compared the ship a lot from both sides, but what really got me is what I've seen here:

"Shadow Milk Cookie is way worse than Bill! He drove Pure Vanilla to insanity! He tortured him!"- This is in regards to how people bring up the fact Anti's are fine with one thing but not the other when it's basically the same thing they're against. Psychological, physical, mental, and emotional torture. I'll be honest I haven't watched Gravity Falls whatsoever, but my friend has, and from what she says, yeah Bill is the definition of a cruel and unusual punishment. He's done some crazy things, absolutely heinous, might even be a little worse than Shadow Milk or on the same level, either way though-

You can't like one thing and then not the other, it's different flavors of the same thing, it's hypocritical. Either you hate them both or you hate neither.

"Those are 2 different fandoms!"- Doesn't matter, it's the same thing, just different media, it's not different whatsoever aside from the universe, there's much torture involved on both ends.

ABUSER X VICTIM

This one I've seen A LOT and I'm just ??

"If you ship Beast x Ancient's you support Abuser x victim btw"- That's a STRETCH. You are reaching FAR. Nobody is romanticizing the abuse, nobody is normalizing it, it's stuff that happened in canon and we acknowledge it but nobody is doing any of that other stuff. I'm not condoning anyone in real life to do that shit lol. It's called exploring, they have an interesting dynamic, romantic or platonic, two sides of the same coin. You can say the same thing about horror movies, they put a lot of disturbing stuff in there. Do the movie producers CONDONE any of that stuff? Obviously not. Goes for Devsisters too, they don't condone body mutilation yet they still made Burning Spice rip off Cheese's wings.

But even so, for the people who DO like it for the angst, I won't say fiction doesn't affect reality because it does in many cases, but this isn't one of them. Not every relationship is going to be peachy and perfect, just like in real life. I can give an example on this one too actually.

GoldenLily, they aren't condoning what Lily (technically) did to Golden Cheese's kingdom, but they like it for all the potential, complicated feelings and emotions that come along with it.

Also, that's basically the same thing with Beasts x Ancients, just turn it around to enemies to lovers.

"This isn't Villain x hero, this is abuser x victim"- Are you saying MOST of media is abuser x victim then? This is in fact a typical hero x Villain trope, it's nothing new. Respectfully, you guys freak out when a Villain does villain stuff, I'd be surprised if there was a villain who DIDN'T cause any trauma for the opposing party. But according to this logic, media is just dead, no more fanfiction, no more what ifs, no more content since it's all apparently problematic and not canon. Even if somebody switches stuff up in an AU, and makes things completely fluffy, that's apparently still not enough.

"oh you had to make an AU to ship them because you know it's toxic"- No, it's just playing around with scenarios. Learn to separate fanon from canon. This specifically goes for the redeemed AU's I see of the Beasts, people still complain, they act as if people can't change. One of the biggest examples I have of that is FlutterCord, Discord did plenty of messed up things, but in the end, he still managed to change. You'll still get burned at the stake for it though.

"You must be an abuser yourself to condone this!!"- Extremely disrespectful and a WILDDD take. Need I say more??

"I ship Beast x Beast rather than Beast x Ancient's"- According to your logic, the Beasts are abusers right? And if we followed the same story, they are not mentally well whatsoever. You'd rather ship 2 dangerously mentally unstable characters together who'd just make each other worse? Destroy each other? Fuck each other up beyond belief? It doesn't make sense does it, nor is it fair for y'all to praise these ships but hate on the others. You like watching the cookies crumble huh 😭

CANON

"The ship isn't canon!"- We know that, everyone should know that. With what I said earlier, please learn to separate fanon from canon. That's what a fandom is, we do non-canon stuff, it's very fun, you should try it.

"It's a Proship/Dark ship!"- Going the canon route, Beasts are Eons old, Ancients are thousands of years old. Big gap yes, but nonetheless all of them are old as fuck. Older than bloodlines. Treating the Ancients as if they aren't grown adults. You're intentionally trying to make it weird. Stop calling ships you don't like proships please.

Also a little off topic but please don't listen to everyone you interact with on TikTok?? I remember one time I was scrolling through a comment section and saw somebody say "Doesn't Mystic Flour Cookie hate Burning Spice Cookie?" On a MysticSpice vid, looked in the replies, somebody asked for proof/where it was implied, and they didn't answer 💀 just blatantly spreading misinformation. Sources around you are way more reliable than people who don't back up their claims.

CONCLUSION

Even despite all this, you still have the right to feel how you wanna feel. Just please stop harassing people for simple stuff like this, in all honesty, I feel like it's more about seeing one of your favorite characters shipped with somebody who hurt them in canon that makes peeps upset. Which I can totally understand because I used to be exactly like that, I LIVEEEE for Dark Cacao Cookie, when Mystic Flour's update came out, I wanted her dead. Quite literally blocked someone because I couldn't stand seeing their MysticCao art. Hated what she did to my baby boy fr.

But then It started growing on me, over time, I just realized it was never that serious.

Even so, notice how I still didn't go out of my way to harass said person about it because I specifically didn't like it? It really is that easy. Block and go about your day.

I also suspect this because of stuff like this 💀

Love that person who replied, but it's not that hard y'all. We all can in fact, get along.

ANYWAYSSSS thanks to those who took the time read, I love you my pookies hope you have a good day or night💕💕

#cookie run kingdom #shadowvanilla #burningcheese #mysticcacao #silentlily #pureshadow #hollysugar #beast x ancient #type shit

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dustpages · 1 day ago

Text

Nanana

I've had long hair since I can remember, but it felt like the right time to trim it. When I looked at myself in the mirror, my face looked so different with this new haircut.

The hairstylist seemed to be at a loss for words. "Ma'am, this cut suits you incredibly well."

I smiled at him, paid up, and headed home.

When I got back, my baby boy was at home studying. He's always been such a good boy; he never gives me trouble. He just needs some motivation to keep going.

I approached him and kissed him on the cheek. He blushed and said, "Mum, you look astonishing."

I blushed and lifted him in my arms, he weighed light a leaf. "Thank you, darling."

He was still red as a tomato; he didn't even know where to put his hands. I slowly undressed until I was down to my underwear.

His eyes widened. "Mum, what are you doing?"

"Relax, baby boy, we are going to take a shower." I affirmed. " Tonight your mum will head out with some of her friends." He nodded his head; he knew he had to stay alone sometimes.

I got him dressed in his pyjamas and kissed him on his forehead. He went downstairs to watch something while I got ready to leave.

I opted for a black set of bra and panties that would accentuate my curves, along with some high heels and a skirt that showed off my legs. My outfit made me feel sexy as hell; I couldn't wait to go out tonight.

I called my son upstairs to give him a goodbye kiss. He walked into my room and stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes glued onto my cleavage.

"Mum... You look amazing," he whispered. His eyes wandered from my tits to my hips, then to my legs.

I smiled at him and patted his head. "You're such a sweet boy; thank you, darling." He was still looking at me with wide eyes.

"I'm sorry, Mum, I don't want you to go." He confessed. His voice trembled as he wrapped his arms around my naked legs. He was rubbing them gently; I was sure he didn't realise what he was doing. I cupped his cheeks and tilted his head up to meet my gaze.

"Baby boy, I have to go. But you can sleep in my bed so we can cuddle all night when I come home," I proposed. He smiled at me and agreed.

I kissed him one last time on his lips; he held it for a little longer than usual, but I let him; I was his mother after all.

I left my flat and headed to meet my friends for dinner. The evening was quite nice; we laughed about silly things and enjoyed each other's company.

We ended the night by going clubbing. I danced like crazy and drank far too much alcohol. As predictable as a guy hitting on me, he was quite handsome. He was called Yuki; he was toned and tall; he had messy brown hair and brown eyes. He had a cute smile, and he smelt incredible.

We danced glued together, and his hands groped my waist and my ass; he tried to touch my tits, but I slapped his hand away; it wasn't the time yet. He did get discouraged and moved his lips on my neck, exploring every inch of it.

I was getting horny; I took his face between my hands and brought him close enough to lock our lips together. Our tongues intertwined, and I moaned into the kiss.

Yuki was shocked; he hadn't expected a woman like me to be so forward. We broke the kiss, both of us panting hard. He grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the exit.

Once outside, he asked."Want to go to my place or yours?"

"My place." I answered quickly. I wanted to fuck him before I forgot how he was done.

The cab ride was a crescendo of tension and anticipation. We were kissing each other without any shame.

I unlocked the door and walked in first when we got to my apartment. Yuki followed behind me and locked it again. He pushed me against the wall and resumed his assault on my mouth.

I felt like a teenager again, not caring about anything except him.

He pressed his body on mine, making me feel every inch of his muscular build. He started sucking on my collarbone and moved lower and lower until he reached my tits.

He pulled my top down, revealing my breasts. He gasped in awe, taking a breast in his mouth and starting to suck and lick it. It was absolute heaven, I moaned in delight as he switched between my two nipples. My pussy was soaking wet at this point.

Yuki grabbed me and hoisted me up; I wrapped my legs around his waist as he carried me into my bedroom.

Before we entered, I got off of him and proceeded into the room first. My baby was sleeping in the middle of the bed, looking like an angel.

I crawled on the bed, leaning on my side. He didn't flinch at my presence; he was sleeping soundly.

"Yuki, come inside." I whispered. In the meantime he had gotten naked; I gasped at the sight of his cock. It was huge and girthy; my pussy clenched in anticipation.

He lay beside me, giving me a sweet kiss. "Can I ask, who is he?" He said, pointing at my child. He wasn't awake yet, thank God.

"He is my son." I admitted shyly. Yuki smiled and said nothing more, instead opting for kissing my lips passionately.

I felt my son moving behind me, I hoped he wouldn't wake up yet, I really needed this release.

I rolled on my other side, giving Yuki my back. "You know what to do with my underwear." I mumbled.

He unhooked my bra and slid it off my shoulders; he caressed my back softly and slowly started to pull down my panties. He threw them on the floor and resumed kissing my back.

His lips travelled from my shoulders down to my ass, which he gave a soft smack. He licked and sucked my ass cheeks, giving me goosebumps everywhere.

After he was satisfied with my butt, he leaned down behind me in a spooning position. He rubbed his cock against my pussy, teasing me. I tried to reach behind me to grab his dick and guide it into my pussy. But he blocked my hands.

"Not yet." He whispered. He kept rubbing himself against me, making my pussy drip with arousal.

Suddenly I felt my son waking up; he stretched and yawned, giving a big sigh. Yuki held still, his breath halted on my skin. I waited for what felt like hours to see if he woke up completely, but he settled back down.

Yuki exhaled in relief; I could feel his heart pounding on my back. He continued his tease, sliding his cock between my thighs, but not entering my pussy yet. He massaged my clit and played with it until I came hard.

I covered my mouth with my hands to avoid waking my son. He whimpered in his sleep.

Yuki wasted no time; he aligned his cock with my entrance and shoved it in with one thrust. I stifled another moan, biting on my fingers. I felt so full, his dick bottomed inside out with ease.

He stilled, letting me get used to his size; one of his hands roamed over my tits, squeezing and playing with them.

I tried to rock my hips backward, wanting him to start fucking me, but he didn't move.

"Please..." I begged quietly. His other hand hovered over my vagina, moving his digits on my clit. I came once again, feeling my orgasm wash over me like a wave.

Finally, Yuki started pumping in and out of my cunt. His movements were slow and deliberate, making sure I felt his entire length.

My tits jiggled with each thrust; I felt my pussy eating his dick with hunger.

He sped up his rhythm, fucking me like his life depended on it. His hands on my boobies tightened, squeezing them harshly. I moaned loudly, unable to hold it anymore.

Yuki slapped his hand over my mouth, muffling my cries. He fucked me faster, ramming his dick into me brutally. I was screaming behind his palm, quivering under his ministration, my orgasm rolling through my whole body.

Yuki grunted; he kept fucking me with all his might. "Ahhh." I moaned into his hand.

The bed was shaking like crazy; my baby stirred once more. This time he sat up, rubbing his eyes confused. He opened them and found his mother being fucked mercilessly by a stranger.

My son's eyes grew wide in shock, and his face paled. My mouth was still covered by Yuki's hand, preventing me from talking to him.

I bite on his palm, hoping to make him remove his hand. He finally understood and released my lips.

"Mum!" My son exclaimed, tears forming in his eyes. "What are you doing?" He asked hurtfully.

"Honey, I'm sorry." I whispered while Yuki didn't budge and continued fucking me.

The situation was getting embarrassing by the minute; my son was staring at me horrified.

I sighed. "Baby boy, this is Yuki. He is a friend."

My son looked at Yuki with confusion but didn't say anything. "Go back to sleep; I will explain everything in the morning." I reassured.

He shook his head. "No, I want to stay." He insisted.

I pouted. "Okay then, sit on the edge of the bed and watch." I told him.

Yuki withdrew his length. "Let's switch positions,” he said, pulling me on my knees. I leaned my chest on the mattress, my ass facing upwards.

Yuki smacked it with force, making me cry out. "You naughty girl." He growled. My son's eyes were fixed on my buttocks, his mouth hanging open.

"You liked it when I did that, didn't you?" Yuki questioned. I nodded enthusiastically.

He positioned himself behind me and plunged into me deeply. My pussy hugged his length eagerly; he grabbed my ass and fucked me rougher than ever.

My tits swung freely, slapping on the bed. My son stared at them intently; he was licking his lips unconsciously.

I cried out in pleasure; Yuki kept ramming inside me, his balls smacking loudly against my pussy. He groaned, grabbing my ass harshly. "You feel so good, you slutty bitch." He grunted.

My son's eyebrows furrowed; he looked offended at those words. I smirked and wiggled my butt enticingly.

Yuki spanked me again, eliciting a squeal out of me. "Dirty girl." He muttered.

I rocked back to meet his thrusts, my tits bouncing wildly. My son looked hypnotised by their movement, he was stroking himself through his pants. I winked at him; he turned bright red in embarrassment.

Yuki was getting close.” Turn around, I miss your lips," he panted.

I flipped over, allowing him to continue fucking me while lying on my back. He bent down and kissed me passionately. His tongue danced with mine, making love to my mouth.

I could feel his cock throbbing inside my pussy, stretching me out. I squeezed his length tight, trying to milk him dry. He moaned and picked up pace, his hips snapping fast.

"Ahhh." I screamed out as the most powerful orgasm hit me. "I'm cumming." I screamed at the top of my lungs.

My juice flooded his dick, making him slippery and allowing him to move easily. Yuki fucked me wildly; I came multiple times while he ravished me. My tits bounced violently; my son looked entranced by them.

Yuki tensed up; his moans turned into growls. "Ahhh, I'm going to cum." He announced.

"Do it outside." I ordered him. I didn't want my pussy overflowing with his semen.

He groaned in frustration but obeyed my command. He pulled out of me and sprayed his cum on my belly and tits. He shot rope after rope, covering me completely in his load.

Yuki collapsed on my chest, panting heavily. "Fuck." He cursed.

"That was amazing." I giggled and gave him a peck on the lips. "But now leave. I need to handle this situation."

He stood up and gave my son a nod. "Goodnight." He wished him well and left the room.

I sat on the bed beside my baby, looking at his flushed cheeks. "Are you okay, baby boy?" I asked.

He nodded and whispered. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be; I love you whatever you do." I cooed. He sighed and snuggled into my arms.

"Did you enjoy watching me and Yuki?" I questioned.

"Yes." He mumbled. "And no." He added. He looked conflicted.

I squeezed him. "What did you not enjoy?" I probed.

"The things he said to you." My son whispered. "They were mean; he shouldn't talk to you like that." He explained.

"Oh, baby, don't worry about it. He meant those as compliments."

My son frowned; he wasn't convinced. I kissed his head. "Come here." I said.

I scooped him up in my arms and brought him to lie on the mattress. I cleaned myself with a bunch of wet wipes in front of him; his blue eyes were eating me up.

"Lie next to me." I demanded. He did so hesitantly, his eyes wandering from my boobs to my crotch.

I took my breasts in my hands and squeezed them together. "Like these?" I asked him.

He nodded enthusiastically; he was practically drooling. I brought a tit close to his mouth and whispered, "Taste."

He latched onto my nipple, sucking it like he was hungry. I groaned loudly as he played with my breasts.

"Baby, please." I whined. I felt like he was awakening something inside me.

He sucked and licked my tits with gusto, switching between the two enthusiastically. My pussy started dripping again; his innocence was turning me on so much.

I pushed my tit further into his mouth; he started to gag but kept sucking. I shuddered and came on him; his spit dripped down my breast.

I pulled him up for a kiss. "You're an amazing kisser." I complimented.

He smiled at me shyly, his lips red from my lipstick. He got bolder poking his tongue in my mouth. I moaned and allowed him to explore my mouth thoroughly.

I wrapped my arms around his small frame; his body was on fire. His chest rubbing against mine was setting my pussy on fire.

I broke the kiss. "Is there anything else you'd like to do?" I offered.

He stared at me with more lust than I could expect; his fingers moved my hair away from my eyes. "Anything that stranger did to you."

His words sent chills down my spine; I smiled seductively. "Okay, baby boy." I consented.

I rolled on the bed and showed my bare pussy to him. "Look at how wet you made me, you little scamp." I teased.

His eyes were glued to my cunt; he swallowed thickly. Mum,"" he said. His voice was shaky. "Please..."

"What is it, baby?" I cooed.

He pointed at my pussy, his cheeks burning. "May I touch?" He begged. His voice sounded almost pitiful.

"Of course you may." I encouraged.

He scooted closer to my crotch, his finger hovering on my folds. He dipped his finger inside, making me gasp.

"Oh baby, that feels great." I praised him. "Keep touching me."

He explored my cunt slowly, learning every crevice of my pussy. "How does this feel?" He asked curiously.

"It feels amazing, like you're caressing my soul." I praised. He chuckled and kept fingering me.

My son's fingers were clumsy but perfect; he hit every spot inside my cunt perfectly. My tits wiggled as I rode his fingers; I grabbed my breasts and squeezed them tightly.

"Mum." He whispered, his eyes looking at me adoringly. "May I taste?" He asked shyly.

"Yes, baby." I replied without hesitation.

He lowered his head in between my thighs and licked my slit. His tongue was clumsy at first, but he got the hang of it pretty quickly.

He sucked my labia in his mouth, flicking his tongue over my clit. I was so sensitive to Yuki, it didn't take much to send me into oblivion.

"Ahhh, I'm cumming, baby." I cried out. "Suck harder." I urged him.

My son hummed in agreement; his mouth worked its magic on my pussy. My juices dripped on his chin, but he didn't mind; instead, he sucked harder. I orgasmed like crazy, shivering under his ministrations.

My son removed his tongue from my pussy, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "You taste better than my favourite juice."

I chuckled, pulling him into a hug. "Thank you, baby, I think you are pretty tasty too."

He smiled widely and buried his face into my shoulder. "More, I want more of you," he whispered.

I smirked widely. "To have more, you have to remove your clothes." I hinted. He nodded and got naked.

I watched him, my eyes feasting on his skinny body. I noticed he had an erection; he looked embarrassed about it.

"Don't worry, baby, it's normal." I assured. His fully erect cock was a sight to behold; I grabbed his hands and placed them on my tits.

"You know how to play with these." I reminded him.

He grinned mischievously and started kneading my boobs harshly. "Ow." I protested weakly.

He apologised. "Sorry, Mum, I forgot you're sensitive." He murmured.

I smiled and grabbed his cock, bringing it close to my mouth. "Open your legs wider." I commanded. He complied without question.

I licked his cockhead, swirling my tongue around his pee hole. He moaned loudly at the sensation.

I opened my mouth wide and swallowed his length until he hit the back of my throat. He tasted salty but not bad; my baby was clean after all.

He gripped my hair in a fist and started thrusting into my mouth. I relaxed my throat, allowing him to fuck it as deep as possible.

"Ahah, Mum." He cried out. "I'm going to come soon."

I sucked on his length eagerly; I wanted to taste his load. He grunted and filled my mouth with his hot cum.

I swallowed all of it and cleaned his dick with my tongue. He fell on his back, breathing heavily.

"I'm tired." He confessed.

I chuckled. "Hold on, baby." I purred. "The best is yet to come."

His eyes shone bright at those words. "Really?" He asked excitedly.

I nodded. "Lay down on the bed." I instructed.

He complied, his cock already showing signs of life. I straddled his lap and sat on his thighs, my pussy inches away from his cock.

I grabbed his dick and brought it to my entrance, pushing him inside me slowly. My cunt hugged him tight; he moaned at the feeling.

"You're so tight." He commented. I smirked and started to bounce on his cock; I felt him filling my walls perfectly.

I ground on his length, moaning as he stretched my pussy out. His cock twitched inside me, and his hips rose to meet my thrusts.

"You feel amazing, Mum." He whispered. I bit my lip and rode him faster, my tits bouncing wildly.

"Ahh." He gasped. "Faster."

I obliged, impaling myself on his length roughly. His eyes glowed brightly as he watched me.

His hand sneaked down to rub my clit; his thumb brushed over my nub. My pussy contracted; my muscles spasmed around his cock.

"I'm going to cum." I warned. I didn't stop; instead, I bounced harder, wanting to milk his cock dry.

His hips snapped upwards, fucking me as hard as he could. I cried out, squirting all over the place; my body collapsed on him.

His mouth attacked my tits, sucking them roughly. I moaned, grinding myself on his still-hard cock. He rolled me over and pinned me under his small body. He grabbed my wrists and pinned them above my head.

"Now it's my turn." He declared.

He fucked me wildly, slamming his hips into mine. "Ahh, baby." I cried out, my tits swinging to and fro. I was riding a new wave of pleasure.

"Take all of me." I moaned. I felt my second orgasm building up.

Yuki's words echoed in my ear. 'You naughty girl.' I felt empowered by the phrase, and I started calling myself dirty names.

"Fuck your whore mum." I moaned. "Make her cum."

He grunted, fucking me harder. His grip on my wrists tightened, and I felt the pressure build up in my belly.

"Harder." I demanded, lifting my hips to meet his.

His balls slapped against my ass loudly; he pounded into me relentlessly. I clenched around his shaft and came like crazy.

I screamed out loud, my voice echoing in the room. He didn't falter his rhythm, fucking me through my orgasm.

I felt his cock swell inside me, he shouted. "Ahah, I'm cumming."

He exploded inside me, bathing my womb with his seed. He collapsed on top of me, panting like a dog.

"That was amazing." He breathed.

I smiled widely, kissing his lips. "We aren't done yet."

His eyes lit up; he grinned at me. "Really?"

I nodded. "Sit on the edge of the bed."

He complied. I straddled him and sat down on his dick, taking it into my pussy fully.

My baby gasped in shock; I held still for a few minutes. I leaned back and lay on his chest; his hands held my hips and kept me steady.

I stayed in this position, feeling my son's cock throb inside me. After a few minutes, he was ready to fuck again.

His mouth attacked my neck, sucking it softly. His hands made me grind on his dick. I moved my hips up and down, fucking him slowly.

His mouth trailed down to my tits; he licked and sucked them greedily. "You have amazing breasts." He complimented.

"Thank you, baby." I cooed, moaning loudly. He was playing with my nipples, pinching them and tugging them.

He kissed his way to my lips, swallowing my moans with his mouth. I could feel his cock twitching inside me; I moved faster and deeper.

His breath hitched. "Mum..." he warned.

His cock bottomed out inside me, making me scream in pleasure. I clamped my legs around him, keeping him deep in my cunt.

"Fuck me, baby." I pleaded. He did just that, fucking me so deep I thought his cock was going to split my pussy in half.

I came so hard I lost count, his cock milking my cunt for every drop of my arousal. His teeth sunk into my collarbone, his hips moving erratically.

"Yuki had fucked me much better." I taunted, slowing down my rhythm.

He glared at me and made me take his cock as hard as I could. "Nasty girl, mocking me to get fucked more." He growled.

He slammed his hips against me, my pussy clamping on his cock desperately. "Yes, baby, use those dirty words." I begged.

He grunted in frustration. "Nasty whore." He groaned. His fingers dug into my hips, bruising the skin.

"Harder." I yelled. I wanted him to break me in half with his cock. I lifted my ass and impaled myself on him again and again.

His cock swelled inside my pussy; he was about to come. "Ahh, Mum, I'm coming." He shouted.

He spurted inside my cunt, filling me with his warm load. He fucked me through his orgasm, making me quiver underneath him.

We collapsed back on the mattress; he was holding me tight, his cock still twitching inside my pussy.

"Mum, that was incredible." He admitted, his voice sounding dazed.

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself." I smiled and kissed his lips lightly. He held me tighter, not wanting to let go.

I wrapped my legs around him and rested my head on his chest. He stroked my hair soothingly. "Sleep, baby boy; tomorrow we are going to talk." I whispered.

Morning arrived; the air was still in my bedroom. My baby boy was asleep on my chest, his breathing heavy.

We were sweaty and stinky; we need to get cleaned. I dismounted him carefully and got to the bathroom to run the water for a bath.

I turned back to my room and crawled to him. I brushed his hair out of his face and kissed him gently. "Wake up, baby boy."

His eyes fluttered open, his blue orbs meeting my black ones. He smiled at me shyly and sat up. He yawned and stretched his body.

He looked at me confused. "Where am I going?" He asked.

"Bath." I explained simply.

He got off the bed, following me to the bathroom. We got into the tub, sitting in front of each other. I poured some shampoo on my hand and washed his hair tenderly.

After he was clean, he returned the favour. He lathered up his hands with soap and started washing my body slowly.

His fingers roamed over my breasts, making me shiver. He kissed my neck and trailed his mouth down to my shoulders, his lips ghosting over my skin.

I sighed in contentment. "This is so nice." I murmured.

He hummed in response and continued his work. He cleaned my belly, his fingertips trailing over my hipbones.

He reached down and soaped up my thighs, spreading them apart to clean in between. I gasped as he touched my pussy.

"Relax, Mum, I won't touch your private parts." He promised.

His hand lingered on my inner thigh for a few seconds before continuing to clean the rest of my body.

We rinsed ourselves and dried each other. Once we were done, he asked. "Do you want breakfast in bed?"

I smiled. "Yes, that sounds lovely."

He nodded and left my room to prepare us food. I changed into a simple robe and lay down on the bed.

Twenty minutes later he walked back carrying a tray of food. There were pancakes and fresh fruits, along with some juices.

We ate our meal happily, feeding each other bites. Once we finished, I cleared the plate and put it aside.

"So, what do you think happened last night?" I asked curiously. He looked at me for a second, deciding how to answer.

"As far as I'm concerned, we copulated a few times; I definitely fancied every single second of it," he stated seriously. "I beg your pardon, but restrain from bringing strangers into this house; it's unpleasant for me and not necessary."

I looked at him in surprise; he sounded so mature and adult. "Of course, baby, only you and me." I agreed.

He smiled in satisfaction. "Good." He paused. "No more strangers roaming around you."

I chuckled at his possessiveness and sat him in my lap; my hand ran through his hair. "Only you, baby boy, I promise."

He melted into my embrace, his head resting on my shoulder. He closed his eyes and relaxed; he felt safe and loved.

"Mum, can we go to the park later?" He requested softly.

"Sure, we can do that." I nodded. He sighed in happiness and snuggled deeper in my arms.

I held him close, running my fingers through his silky hair. We stayed like this for a while, enjoying each other's company.

After a while he got up from my lap. "I need to brush my hair and wear something comfortable." He informed me. I nodded and let him go.

A few minutes later he appeared wearing some shorts and a shirt. He looked adorable, his black hair combed back neatly.

"Ready?" I asked. He nodded and took my hand, leading me out of my flat.

The walk to the park was enjoyable; the weather was sunny but breezy. We were holding hands, walking side by side.

Once we got to the playground, I sat on a bench, watching my baby run and play with the others.

I was wearing a simple dress, but my tits were clearly visible. Some of the fathers were ogling me, it made me giggle.

After a while Yuki messaged me asking me out. I replied dryly. "That was a one-night stand and nothing more." I texted. "Also, I'm not interested; I have someone else." I concluded.

The day passed peacefully; we spent some quality time together. He climbed on the jungle gym and waved at me, his grin reaching his ears.

I waved back at him and blew a kiss; he pretended to catch it and put it in his pocket. He jumped off and ran towards me.

Once he reached me, he straddled my lap and hugged me tight. "Can we go home?" he begged.

"Just if you let me carry you." I replied, knowing how much he hated to be treated like a kid.

He pouted, making my heart skip a beat. "Okay, but you owe a favour."

I hoisted him up in my arms and carried him like a baby, his arms around my neck. His face nestled on my neck, his lips brushing my skin occasionally.

We walked back home, enjoying the silence of the evening. I laid him down on my bed and tucked him in, giving him a gentle kiss on his cheek.

"Wait for me; don't fall asleep." I ordered him to leave for the dressing room. I needed to change into something comfy for the night.

I went to the closet and slipped off my dress. I opted for grey underwear; I desired to let my baby have fun again. I walked back in my bedroom and found him sleeping.

I crawled next to him and spooned him from behind, giving a kiss on his shoulder. His scent invaded my senses; he smelt so good.

He woke up and rubbed his eyes. "Mum..." he murmured, turning around to face me. His eyes landed on my tits and widened.

"Nice bobbies." He appraised.

"Thanks, baby." I chuckled; his compliment warmed my heart.

"You want to play some more?"

He nodded eagerly. I pulled him on top of me and started playing with his hair. "What do you want to do?" I questioned.

His face reddened; he seemed unsure on how to reply. I laughed at him. "Come on, baby boy, tell me."

He gulped. "Kiss." He muttered quietly. His request surprised me, but I decided to comply.

I pulled him in for a kiss, his lips opening slightly as he let our tongues intertwine. His kisses became hungrier; he sucked my bottom lip between his teeth and nibbled it lightly.

I moaned into the kiss, feeling desire pool in my stomach. His little hands wandered over my body, making goosebumps appear on my skin.

He pulled away from the kiss. "Touch me, Mum." He pleaded.

I smirked at him. "Where do you want me to touch you?"

He gestured at his cock, which was poking out of his shorts. I reached down and cupped it in my hand, stroking it lightly.

His head fell back, his mouth opening in a silent moan. I continued to stroke him, his cock growing harder in my palm.

He started rocking his hips, humping my hand. His eyes met mine; they were blazing with lust.

"Take off your clothes." I whispered.

He nodded and stripped himself out of his clothing. I admired his small frame; his muscles weren't defined, but he was lean and sexy.

I pushed him on his back and took his cock in my mouth, swirling my tongue over the tip. He gasped loudly, his hand tangled in my hair.

"Shit, Mum, you're amazing," he groaned.

I smiled and sucked his cock into my mouth, bobbing my head up and down. His cum leaked onto my tongue; it tasted bitter but not unpleasant.

I pulled away to catch my breath; he looked at me pleadingly. "Please don't stop." He begged.

I licked my lips and swallowed his length again. I sucked him faster this time, my tongue working the underside of his dick.

His hips started bucking, fucking my mouth harshly. I gagged around him; he apologised for being too rough.

He grabbed my head and kept it in place, fucking my face brutally. His moans filled the room, his eyes wild with pleasure.

His thrust became erratic; he was close to coming. "Aaaaah, Mum," he cried out.

He exploded in my mouth, spurting rope after rope of cum down my throat. I swallowed all of it and licked his cock clean.

He lay down panting, his chest rising and falling rapidly. I crawled on his lap, straddling him and lining his cock with my pussy.

I sank down on him slowly, making sure he was comfortable. He hissed in pleasure, his length hitting my cervix.

"You're so deep." He moaned, his fingers digging into my hips.

I started to move up and down, my tits swaying wildly. His hands came up to squeeze them, his thumbs tweaking my nipples.

I rode him fast, bouncing on his cock hard. He moaned in bliss, his hands grasping my tits harshly.

"Harder, Mum." He urged.

I sped up my rhythm, impaling myself on him brutally. "Look at how wet you make me." I praised him, rubbing my clit roughly.

His eyes widened in shock. "So wet..." he gasped.

I clenched around him, his cock swelling inside my pussy. "You're so big." I moaned.

He wrapped his arms around me, holding me close. Our lips met again, our tongues dancing together.

I felt my orgasm building up; I needed more. I moved my lips to his neck, sucking a mark on his skin.

"I'm a naughty girl." I whispered in his ear. "All wet for you." I licked his earlobe.

He growled, pounding me in the earnest, his lips reciprocating my kisses. "Bad girl." He agreed, his fingers pinching my nipple.

I moaned loudly, grinding myself on him. He matched my rhythm, slamming into me roughly. "That's it, fuck me, baby boy." I urged.

He grunted, his hips pistoning into me wildly. My tits bounced in his face; his tongue licked them eagerly.

"Baby boy." I whispered, my orgasm approaching. "You feel so good."

His lips captured mine in a kiss. I shuddered around him, clenching his cock tight. He kept fucking me through my orgasm; he was relentless.

"More." He demanded, his voice low and raspy.

I agreed and lay back on the mattress, my legs spread wide. He followed me; he rubbed the head of his dick on my sensitive clit, and my hands flew to cover my pussy.

"No, no, no." I cried out. "Too much." My voice sounded strained.

He smirked and slapped my hands away, rubbing his cockhead on my clit. I sobbed, my orgasm still rolling through my body.

"Naughty girl." He taunted and carefully plunged his shaft inside of me.

He leaned on my body, his mouth kissing and sucking on my lips. His hands roamed over me, one of them settling on my clit.

He rubbed my nub in circles, his hips pumping into me slowly. His mouth trailed down my neck to my tits, sucking on them gently.

I gasped and writhed under him, my orgasm building again. "Don't stop, baby." I begged.

His thrust sped up, fucking me roughly. His cock was bottoming out inside of me, hitting my cervix with every thrust.

"Bad girl." He murmured. "Look at you begging for my cock."

I nodded frantically, desperate to get him to fuck me harder. His hips snapped into mine; he fucked me with total abandon.

My orgasm crashed into me, my body convulsing. I felt my pussy flooding with arousal, his cock slipping easily inside of me.

He moaned and continued fucking me, his breath hot on my ear. "I'm going to fill you up, naughty girl." He warned.

I came again and again, my body shivering. "Please, baby." I begged, my voice barely audible.

He ravaged me, slamming his dick into me like his life depended on it. I orgasmed once more, my cunt clamping on him hard.

"Your cunt is eager to suck me dry." He grunted. He fucked me fast, his balls slapping loudly against my ass.

He stilled suddenly, his moans filling the air. He exploded inside me, shooting rope after rope of his seed.

His lips brushed against mine, his tongue tasting me gently. He rolled off me, collapsing next to me.

I felt exhausted but happy. I cuddled him in my arms, his head finding a spot on my shoulder.

"Thank you." He whispered.

"You're welcome, baby." I kissed his forehead and hugged him tight.

We slept like that for a long time, wrapped in each other's embrace. We woke up late, the sun shining brightly on us.

He stretched his small body and snuggled against my boy. His hand squeezing boobies, he was clearly in love with them.

"What's your plan for today?" I asked, running my fingers through his silky hair.

"Spending time with you is the only thing I care about; the kind of activities we do are the same with you by my side," he answered, meaning his words.

I blushed at his sweet words; I really loved spending time with my baby boy. He was so attentive and caring.

We spent the rest of the week together, fucking whenever we wanted. I discovered he loved oral sex, both giving and receiving.

One evening I woke up with a wet pussy; I realised he had been playing with my cunt while I was sleeping. He sucked my clit hungrily, making me squirm under his attention.

"Bad boy." I chastised him, but secretly loved every moment of his ministrations.

He licked my pussy with gusto, slurping my arousal greedily. I came on his tongue, crying out in pleasure.

He pulled back and smiled widely at me. "Tastes delicious." He praised.

I chucked and pulled him into a kiss, licking my juices from his mouth. "You're so talented." I complimented.

He glowed in pride at my praise. "I'll try to do better," he promised.

"Oh, you are not going to get free with your sweet words; now you have aroused me." I retorted, smirking.

He blushed; he was still my little adorable baby. "What do you want me to do?" his voice was full of lust.

"So far you have been excellent; you have been mastering everything I ask you to do." I praised him. "Now I want you to give attention to the last hole you haven't touched yet."

I turned on my side and presented my ass to him, my pussy still dripping with arousal. "Please don't be too rough." I begged.

His hands roamed over my backside; he kissed the spot where his hand had connected. "I promise I'll be careful." He vowed.

He lapped at my arsehole, making me gasp. I never knew rimming was so good; his tongue felt amazing on my starfish.

"Ohh fuck, yeah." I moaned. "Lick it harder." I demanded.

He sucked and licked my ass, his tongue probing my hole lightly. I cried out in pleasure, my pussy soaking my thighs.

His hand sneaked down to rub my clit; he played with my nub expertly. I was in heaven; he was playing my body like an instrument.

"Bad boy." I gasped. "Too much." My orgasm approached; I was ready to come.

He inserted his tongue into my hole, making me shudder in pleasure. I clamped on it hard, his finger rubbing my clit furiously.

I came like crazy, screaming out my pleasure. "Ahahah, keep going, baby." I pleaded.

He kept licking and sucking my ass, adding another finger to rub my G-spot. His fingers moved in a curl motion, rubbing my nub perfectly.

I orgasmed again and again, losing count. His tongue was magic; he knew exactly where and how to lick me.

He inserted another finger into my ass, making me cry out in pain. His fingers worked me slowly, expanding my hole.

When he deemed it, I went on all fours, raising my butt in the air. "I'm going to fuck you." He warned.

I nodded, desperate for him to penetrate me. He lined up his cock and slowly slid into me.

His cock stretched me out, filling me whole. His hips moved slow and steady, allowing me to adjust to his length.

Once he was fully seated inside of me, he sped up his rhythm, fucking me in the earnest. His cock was so deep inside of me I felt like I was going to split in half.

My body trembled under his ministrations; he pounded me like a man possessed. He reached down to rub my pussy, making my cunt clamp on his shaft.

"Ahah, baby boy." I cried out. My body shook like a leaf; I couldn't hold my orgasm in.

He growled in my ear. "Don't hold back; I fancy seeing you coming."

I came loudly, my body convulsing under him. My pussy squirted with force, coating everything beneath.

His free hand ran through my short hair, his mouth biting my earlobe. "You're so dirty for me." He whispered. His words set me off again, making me climax harder.

He kept fucking me ruthlessly, my body unable to take more. My pussy was sore and my ass hurt, but I couldn't help the needy noises that escaped my lips.

"Fill me up." I begged him.

"Ask it properly." He rubbed my clit more intensively.

"Please fill my arsehole with your cum, daddy." I cried out.

"Daddy?" He raised his eyebrow in amusement. I shrugged; I didn't have the energy to explain my reasons.

"Tell me why you call me 'daddy' or I won't finish you off." He warned me.

I turned my head to face him. "Because it makes me horny, and you own me, Daddy." I replied honestly.

He grinned at me, his cock swelling inside me. "Then call me again," he commanded.

"Daddy, please, I need you to come in my ass." I begged.

He moaned and picked up the pace, going in and out of my back door like a piston. His fingers tweaked my nipples; his mouth sucked and bit my neck.

"Fuck me, daddy." I whimpered, his cock hitting a spot inside me that made me see stars.

His hands spanned my waist, pulling me onto his cock. He bottomed out inside my ass, making me scream.

His teeth sunk into the crook of my neck. "Dirty girl, look at how much cum you produce," he whispered. His thumb rubbed my clit furiously, sending me into oblivion.

His name spilt from my lips repeatedly. "Daddy, daddy, daddy." I called out, my body trembling like crazy.

He exploded inside of me, his cum leaking down my leg. I clenched around him as hard as I could, milking him for more.

He kept thrusting into me through his orgasm, his teeth marking my skin. "Such a nasty slut for me." He grunted.

His words set me off one last time, my body shaking so hard I was afraid I would collapse.

He rolled me on my back and kissed me deeply, his tongue invading my mouth. I returned the kiss fervently, his taste making me drunk.

When we broke apart for air, he smiled at me lazily. "You look adorable, covered in our nasty fluids." He complimented.

I chuckled. "You should see yourself, Daddy."

His hand groped my breasts and ass; he was claiming his ownership.

"I love you, baby boy," I admitted.

"I love you too, Mum," he replied. We cuddled together, enjoying each other's warmth.

"We might burn in the heavenly fire, but I don't give a damn fuck till I'm with you." I kissed his lips like it was for good.

#im jinah #kpop x male reader #kpop fanfic #smut

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meanbossart · 2 days ago

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Triple question here (started as one, then I got to thinking).

We've all seen Bhaalist Drow (that man can get it), but what would an Absolutist Drow look like? How'd he turn out if he controls the Elder Brain?

Alternatively, what would the dynamic between Bhaalist Drow and Ascended Astarion be like? Or AA and non-Bhaalist drow?

This is kind of a cop-out, but the supposed aftermath of the "control the brain" endings are really boring to me 😭 don't get me wrong, the actual cinematics and lines since patch 7 are AWESOME, but I can't think of any interesting followups after you become the literal absolute leader of the whole Sword Coast, y'know? Maybe that's a failure on my part.

Which is why in DU drow's evil ending I canonize that he can't fully control the brain with the stones - but he can keep it UNDER control and therefore uses it as a bargaining chip to further his own political games on the long-run and govern with fear.

Regardless of alignment, post-amnesia DU drow is always strongly opposed to the concept of the Absolute and relying on a more powerful force to achieve his goals (besides his own father). He used to be on-board with it pre-game, but that changes after everything that happens during the campaign and ESPECIALLY once he finds out how Orin used it to take him down.

So, basically, it's hard for me to come up with an answer to your first question because that would have to be a very different character. There isn't really a version of himself where he becomes that specific brand of evil without Bhaal's influence - even without Shadowheart or Jaheira to lead him down a slightly better path, a redemptive DU drow is more likely to become a full on murderer and cannibal rather than want to strip the earth of the ability to fight back - that's half the fun of it, after all.

As for Ascended Astarion, that's another branching path in this story that I'm still planning on exploring 😇 similarly to how we occasionally dip into the Bhaalist timeline for the drow.

An universe where both AA and Bhaalist DU drow exist would be tricky, since AA gives a tav the ultimatum of either being turned into his spawn or ending the relationship. I realize I could retcon this, but I don't want to - it feels core to that version of his character to want to have control over his partner IMMEDIATELY, and take the rejection as a betrayal. "Normal" DU Drow would never accept to be turned into a vampire spawn - Bhaalist DU drow would take the offer alone as an insult, not to mention do everything in his power to keep Astarion from ascending in the first place.

So, a romantic relationship between Bhaalist DU drow and Ascended Astarion simply wouldn't survive. In fact, I think they would very shortly after kill each other because of the ever-competing size of their egos.

Things wouldn't work too differently between normal DU drow and Ascended Astarion, save for the fact that DU would leave him alive and (hopefully) vice-versa. The person he fell in love with isn't there anymore and now encompasses everything he finds most irritating and off-putting - the exuberance, the pompousness, the thinly veiled desperation - he would lose his patience with AA right off the bat and from that point on they could hardly be in the same room together. Fortunately, Shadowheart and Jaheira would be around to keep DU drow from going off the deep-end after that.

There is one timeline where Ascended Astarion could really thrive, though:

I haven't gone much into the third possible outcome for a Dark Urge yet, but it is one where A.Astarion proposition would seem a lot harder to turn down - if not be the only choice he has left.

#ask #du drow lore #ascended astarion #du drow and astarion

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synchodai · 1 day ago

Text

"Mystra groomed Gale" takes rustle my jimmies like no other. I get how some people who don't know much about her beyond BG3 may have this interpretation, but if you're like me, a woman who's been playing since the days of AD&D, you'd understand why accusing Mystra of being the bad person in this scenario may hit a nerve.

TL;DR: Did Mystra take advantage of Gale's devotion to her as his goddess? Definitely, she's a Faerûnian deity — they subsist on worship and adulation. Does that make her his abuser? Eh... man, maybe it's high time that a lot of us learn different terminology for unhealthy relationship dynamics other than abuser-victim. I've seen a couple of posts that are really gung-ho about forcing every companion character to be some sort of abuse victim, because that's what they've decided the game is about. I mean, they're free to interpret the game that way, but damn, we're really out here flattening god, the very concept of magic itself, into the role of an abusive ex, huh? A fantastical, nuanced relationship between mortal and immortal set against the backdrop of a rich palimpsest multiverse digested like a YouTube drama video.

Let me try to explain my perspective by going through the history of Mystra, how she's utilized in Forgotten Realms lore, and treated within D&D games in general.

MYSTRA THE MAN-EATER

Since her creation, she has always been depicted as the sexy goddess whose main purpose was to be a wizard player's muse as well as their patron. Back then, D&D (and TTRPGs in general) was a heavily male-dominated hobby, so Mystra (and Mystryl, her avatars, and all her other incarnations) was catered and shaped by that demographic.

Because it's the player characters and Wizards of the Coast who have narrative agency and many of them want to fuck a goddess, they make stories where Mystra comes on to them because their character is just so good at magic. They designed Mystra to be a mysterious, beautiful love interest because they wanted to use her as the crown jewel of their power fantasy of being a super cool and powerful magic man. You can pretty much see this in the Elminster books and the Avatar series with Midnight (one of Mystra's avatars). Gale himself seems to be an exploration of this typical kind of wizard character.

As far as power fantasies go, making the goddess of magic have an intimate relationship with a mortal character is fine. It's the ultimate validation for a burger-flipper when the god and all source of burger-flipping is head over heels in love with them. It also doesn't have to have a sexual component to have "magic" and the magic system itself enamored with a character — depending on the game and DM, Mystra's favor can be entirely symbolic and metaphorical. A fine power fantasy in the power fantasy generation game.

So because everyone literally wants a piece of her, you end up with Mystra having more Chosen running around than any other god. Understandable given what she has to do to maintain her massive portfolio. It fits her as the personification of magic — someone who entices ambitious young spellcasters but burns them out through obsession and overreaching. Consume any Forgotten Realms-related media, and you've probably come across at least one campaign, novelization, or character backstory that use Mystra for the role of sexy sorceress goddess that's the alluring (yet often demanding) patron of some magic man. Whomst amongst our wizards haven't been visited by Mystra in the night ordering him to do plot point, he rolls to seduce her, and she has no choice but to admit that she's actually attracted to him because the dice said so? It was a community inside joke passed around tables: Mystra the Man-eater.

But then some BG3 fans started taking the joke seriously...

MYSTRA THE GROOMER AND WHORE

This piece of dialogue has done so much irrevocable damage.

Some (Galemancers specifically) have interpreted this to mean that Mystra is known to go after young men. She does not. She has more documented Chosen than other gods due to her massive portfolio and power level, but there are just as many female Chosen as there are male Chosen. Minsc, like most of us in this fandom, is speculating and doing so in a way that uplifts Gale at the cost of taking a bit of a jab at Mystra.

"Mystra's a whore. She boned Kelemvor and Elminster and so many of her Chosen, taking advantage of them as a goddess," they say as if she didn't have her romantic relationships all as different people and in different bodies. Her avatar Dasumia was the one who had an intimate relationship with Elminster, and it was the human Midnight (who later ascended to become Mystra) who was Kelemvor's lover (who himself was a mortal adventurer at the time).

This is why Mystra is, how other people put it, "a whore." Because WotC canonized a handful of those stories where different sexy female mage love interests whom otherwise have nothing in common are slapped with the Mystra label for one reason or another. Sometimes they're mere avatars or magical projections, sometimes they're actual people possessed by Mystra, and sometimes they're destined to be the new Mystra but don't know it yet. But those sort of nuances are lost to people who learn their lore secondhand from deliberately provocative tweets and reddit posts, flattening extremely fantastical relationships to clumsily fit a more relatable framing that'll net them more online engagement.

I don't want to argue what is and isn't grooming. But I have encountered arguments taking Gale's mentions that he was "a young man" to mean Mystra groomed him as a child. But I doubt he would have said "young man" if he meant child...

Mystra took off the gossamer veils from her body to fully reveal herself to him — or whatever romanticized way Gale tells you that they were intimate. The man speaks in half-abstraction and metaphors because it's revealed later on in the romance that all their love-making happened outside the Material Plane. They were very intimate, but never physically had sex (or had any physical contact at all because gods are only allowed to interact with mortals through their avatars or projections). If Mystra "groomed" Gale, so did every other god who revealed themselves and made themselves vulnerable to their followers. Shar grooms her justiciars when she brings them into her dark embrace. Umberlee grooms her clerics when she swallows them up and gives them her wet kiss.

MYSTRA IS A FAIR GOD ACTUALLY

Look, gods in D&D-verses are, more often than not, dicks. They have to be or else there would be no need for adventurers to fix wrong-doings if the gods weren't so detached to the suffering of mortals and regularly making earth-shattering calamities.

Mystra, as a patron, is actually one of the more fair and hands-on dieties. She's one of the few gods who rewards benevolent ambition and punishes destructive hubris, knowing the line between the two. In the Elminster series, she (or one of her avatars) assists Elminster in taking down one of her rebel Chosen who has abused her blessing to become a tyrant. Azuth, one of her Chosen, has achieved godhood through her. In fact, she is divinely obliged — forced against her will, some might say — to help mortals she would personally rather smite. There have been so many instances where Mystra has to be the bigger person. As far as gods abusing their followers go, Mystra is low on that list.

There are barely any stories of magic abusing spellcasters, but there are cautionary tales aplenty of spellcasters abusing magic.

ON GALE SPECIFICALLY: HOW IS MYSTRA THE BAD GUY HERE?

Gale is the first to tell you that he "violated her boundaries." Mystra told him not to mess with the Tome of Netheril and he did it anyway, so he's fully aware that the orb in his chest and his fall from grace is his own fault. Mystra didn't cast him aside just because she felt like he was getting too big for his britches. His actions actively endangered her and the Weave.

(Mystra is wrong about certain details on the Karsite Weave if we're going by Forgotten Realms lore, but she's not wrong about its existence being a danger. BG3 takes a lot of liberties with the world Faerûn, so I can't definitively say whether Mystra being wrong was her lying, Larian rewriting canon, or this incarnation of Mystra not knowing the true nature of the Fall of Netheril. I could go on about what effects the Karsite Weave actually would have on magic, but this post is already long enough. )

Gale only starts to resent Mystra when she asks him to detonate himself. Elminster makes it sound like an order, but from the way she doesn't punish him in the epilogue if he chooses to keep the orb, it feels more like a suggestion. If Mystra wanted Gale well and truly dead, she has so many options.

Throughout Faerûn's history, Mystra herself has constantly been betrayed and taken advantage of — her power coveted by ambitious men who claim to worship and love her. Honestly, as far as goddesses with traumatic histories of being killed by ambitious men go, she's pretty chill about Gale. The fact that she allows him to become the god of ambition in the end if you choose that path? Well... let's just say she's not the one who looks like the evil ex who was only with their partner to take advantage of them in this scenario.

CONCLUSION

Mystra isn't the only goddess to have romantic relationships with her followers. I've already yapped on about how Forgotten Realms writers and D&D players love to make goddesses fuck their heroes, and all that pearl-clutching over "power imbalance" and "consent" is moot when the mortal party is actively rolling to seduce the divine entity.

But notice how the male gods rarely have intimate relations with their mortal charges? It's almost as if Mystra was objectified for years by horny nerds to be the sexy sorceress who validates the more important male hero. Fast forward years later, she's now being slut-shamed for all the lore of her sleeping with the more important male hero by a new crop of fans who would love to think they're more progressive than the horny nerds of the 80s, but fall into the same trap. Mystra has so much potential for complexity, but they choose to flatten her because they ultimately don't care about making stories involving complex female characters.

Instead, one of the most powerful beings in Faerûn has no bigger role in this universe than to be your girlfriend or your current boyfriend's evil ex. Wow, the realms of your creativity and respect for women truly know no bounds.

#long post #bg3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #mystra #baldur's gate 3 #vent

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