#asmr hand movements

[soothifying-sounds-asmr]

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Your Hair is Sand by FemaleASMR

[hyunpic]

240716 📍 ICN

[bedhag]

dale kobble asmr when

[bandwagoningstims]

.･ﾟﾟ･°˖✧ please dni if nsfw/kink, dd/lg, map, radfem, or transmed ✧˖°･ﾟﾟ･.

✧ video by pastello_slime ✧

[gorillaxyz]

god bless the mics in thisinterview

[phierceasmr]

You deserve so much ✨️

[bichenistraumatised]

i watched this hand movements asmr video last night for 1st time and it really put me to sleep immediately cause god knows otherwise i would have been up till 3 am

[vetlasmr]

ASMR to help you sleep - Healing hand movements and guidance to help you relax. :)

[cinematicasmr]

Cyberpunk 2088 ASMR Exam. Dental biochips. Sound Card Upgrade. (Technical; Latex Crinkles) - ATMOSPHERE

[screeching-bunny]

may i request some yan!butler/maid hcs? ur fics/hcs r like my lifeline ALSO love love the name Ligma (srry for the poor grammar, english is my first language/hj)

Yandere! Butler Hcs

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’

A/N: LIGMA BALLZ. Anyways thanks for liking my name it’s so fucking awesome isn’t it?

🌟 Yandere! Butler who’s a year older than you and has been serving you ever since your teenage years. He’s dedicated and willing to spend the rest of his life serving you as long as it means being by your side forever. He first becomes enamored by you when you happen to come by the shop he was working at the time. He was enchanted by you and after finding out that you were a noble, he began grooming himself in order to be the perfect servant for you. When the position of being an attendant opened up in your manor, he quickly signed up for it. Yandere! Butler made sure to perform his duties as perfectly and diligently as possible while in that position. It was all to ensure that he would be promoted to be personal butler.

🌟 Yandere! Butler was not able to communicate with you when he was first hired to your manor due to being too low of a rank. He could only stare at you longingly from afar and wish that he could be closer to you. Yandere! Butler during this time period would discreetly follow you around wherever you went. Although he wasn’t allowed to talk to you, he still wanted to feel like he was a part of your life, like some secret protector. While doing this he’s definitely stolen a few of your possessions and stored them for his own personal use.

🌟 Yandere! Butler is so enthralled when he finally gets promoted to being your butler. Finally!!! After all these years he can finally talk and touch his beloved person! He’s so excited that he can’t stop shaking with joy when he hears the news. Every waking moment of his life from this point in time will belong to you and only you. He is willing to do anything you ask of him. No matter how small or difficult the task is, he will make sure to complete it as if his life depended on it. As long as it gets you to look and notice him then it is all worth it.

🌟 Yandere! Butler is only loyal towards you. He is not willing to take orders from anyone but you, even if it’s from your own family members. How dare they try to take away his time and thoughts of you away from him? Have they no shame?! Yandere! Butler would definitely be willing to fight anyone who dares to insult you. He doesn’t care if they are young or elderly, his hands are rated E for everyone. His love language is words of affection, so get ready to hear a barrage of compliments every waking moment of your life. Even when you’re not around, he’s still singing praises about you much to the displeasure of literally everyone else.

Yandere! Butler: “Did you see them today! I swear they get more dashing every time I see them. I wonder if they’ll let me touch their–”

Random Maid: (crying) “PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, SHUT UP!!! IT’S BEEN TWO HOURS!!!”

🌟 Yandere! Butler is in charge of your everyday routine. He’s the one planning all of your meals and makes them personally. He will get upset if anyone but him makes you food because he makes sure to plan it perfectly in order to fit your nutritional needs. He makes sure to take care of you as if you were porcelain glass. His movements with you are light and delicate almost as if he were scared that you would break if he were ever too rough with you. He loves to hear you talk about your day and ramble on about meaningless things. It’s somewhat therapeutic to him and it’s like listening to an asmr podcast in his eyes. He takes in everything that you say and a majority of times gives good advice when you need it. If you ever fall in love, never tell him. He will either gut that person alive or give you the worst possible love advice you have ever heard.

“This guy I met at the bakery was super attractive. How do you think I should approach him?”

Yandere! Butler: (screaming on the inside) “You should tell him that he’s gross. I heard nowadays guys find it attractive when people play hard to get.”

🌟 Yandere! Butler legitimately thinks that you are the most perfect person in the universe and that no one deserves you, including himself. He doesn’t care that you may not ever love him, just allow him to stay by your side all of eternity and he’ll be happy. You could tear him apart or take everything he owns and he’d still be loyal toward you. When he signed that contract, he did not only just promise to be your butler but also made a heartfelt vow that everything he does will be for your greater good. He loves the look of a smile on your face and would do anything to keep it there. Murder is not beneath him, if anyone dares to make you cry then he won’t hold back. Whether it be poison, decapitation, drowning, and etc. He’s willing to do it for you, all in the name of love.

🌟 Yandere! Butler takes care of any task that you deem stressful and overwhelmed by. If he sees any type of distraught look on your face he is taking over. Has that business deal been causing you to lose sleep? Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, he’ll make sure to handle everything. Are you getting a migraine while doing some paperwork? Well then, wait right there as he brews you some tea and he’ll get right in on working on it. If he ever sees you sneeze and sniffle then he is going straight mama bear mode. He’ll force you to stay in bed even if you aren't really sick and he won’t listen to any of your protests. No job is a headache to him when it involves you in the picture. So why don’t you just sit back and relax so that he can just take care of you.

[soothifying-sounds-asmr]

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Doing your Halloween Makeup by Goodnight Moon

Video Contains: Whispering, Face Touching/ Brushing, Makeup Application, Repeated Words/ Unintelligible Whispers, Hand Movements

[hyunpic]

🖤💛

[janumun]

A Lemurian’s Guide to Love (LaDS Rafayel – General NSFW Headcanons) 

Rated: NSFW/18+

Tags: oral and vaginal sex, body worship, fingering, praise kink, facial, hand kink, Rafayel shenanigans, allusions to spoilers for Rafayel’s myth dates, certain ASMRs and his character story

Words: ~3k

Author’s Notes: The chokehold this man has on me (!!!) has led me to exploring Rafayel’s sexual foray as well as smidges of how I imagine his relationship to progress with his beloved in these headcanons. 

Please take careful note of those tags and rating and proceed at your own discretion!  

With that said, I hope you enjoy your read. 

Rafayel has stood by and waited for you; over the course of several years — from that fated meeting and the result: a promise borne and broken — and through the descent of the sands of time.  

And while he likes to consider himself a patient man — and to a degree, he has been just that; endurance incarnate over the course of those long, arduous years without his beloved at his side — when he does finally come across you, Rafayel finds his resolve ripple, and then gradually implode, into paper-thin fragments of yearning and fond desire.  

From how Rafayel oft presents his public persona to the world — cool and dispassionate; a tepid smile on the ready for strangers who wish to garner his favour or attentions, one wouldn’t even think to scratch past that surface. The task of avoiding unnecessary engagements, especially since his return to Linkon City a few years prior, preceding his debut as an artist, is one he finds particularly cumbersome.  

But during intimate moments, reserved for just the two of you, you see that exact same Rafayel — that handsome, charismatic artistic talent plastered, glossy, across covers of magazines and billboards — mould into silly scowls. A flair for the dramatics the minute he senses your attentions are not his alone for the taking. Ridiculous and feline-like in his excuses of demands from his ‘bodyguard’, to allow him her company.  

After an endurance survived this incredibly long, he finds that in certain matters, he can no longer wait.  

Great Lemurian entity he may be, but his habits fit firmer akin to a cat’s rather than any fish you’ve kept as a pet.  

He likes to tease and prod at you, wind you up and then, burst into subdued laughter the moment you take his bait. He’s frighteningly adept at stringing you along to his whims, a certain boyish charm you’ve never seen him utilize on any of his vast majority of fans in public. 

He loves to drag you out to impromptu sea-shell collecting ‘dates’ along the shores of Whitesand Bay, to capture the perfect pearlescent pink and silvers, to grind into paint on days he moans of “not having enough inspiration to paint’.

Tows you along for long drives in the vermillion convertible he was provided by Thomas, purchased from Rafayel’s private funds [the correct color he insisted on getting for the car before a poor Thomas was finally able to fulfil his request].  

Had you both stranded miles away from home once, when he had a punctured tire and ‘forgot’ to ensure he had a spare to change, in case of emergencies.  

And when you biked him back the rest of the way on a rental bicycle, you had the very nagging suspicion he wasn’t too upset about the mishap as he hummed an odd tune, seated behind you. Bodies close enough you felt the gentle vibrations of his voice deep within your bones, along with the steady movement of the tires hitting the paved road.  

Truly a feline more than any amphibious creature. 

A wondrous man, a delightful dissonance of character.

That very same man, when the two of you hold each other for the first time: 

His digits scour a delicate path across your face, your jaw, down your neckline; Rafayel is incredibly, uncharacteristically quiet the first night you are his. Bathed a sterling blue under the watery gaze of the moon. Save for the thick hitch of his breath with the unveiling of bare skin, he is mute.  

His eyes, however, a crisp indigo, seem to set an inextinguishable fire to the rest of your clothes.  

He observes — engraves into memory — first with his gaze, and then, his fingers follow. Long, tapered digits mapping the shape of your breasts, thumb denting gentle at the peaks of them. A grip he tests, firm, against the supple flesh of your waist, flaring outwards into the soft squish of your hips.  

He makes a sound then; incoherent, incomprehensible. Perhaps, an unconscious break of language into his native Lemurian tongue; the hoarse, barely compacted passion of it, however, conveyed to you in feelings.  

You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.  

Your first night is incredibly long, Rafayel shows you truly what it means to be made love to, you nearly weep of joy and pleasure.  

He has waited, oh he has pined and wanted, for so long. It’s a surreal and soul shattering experience for him, just the blessing of you naked underneath his fingers alone, has all of Rafayel’s pretenses unravelling, all masks and facades falling away.  

The first time, there is no teasing, no hiding.

Rafayel is immaculately thorough in his exploration of your body. His fingers; his preferred medium of following the swells and dips of his canvas — your body.  

Unfortunately, and yet so very delightful for you; he takes his time sketching across your body throughout the night, providing no chance of rest or relief from the torrential waves of pleasure he crests through your body. His eyes trained fast on your face, for every slight quiver and break of you, witnessing your response to each single pinpoint of pleasure his fingers brush against.  

Responding obedient to pleas of “oh, there, right there, Rafayel.”  

This very first time, the sounds of you alone, moaning his name, could bring him to completion but he resists. Your pleasure, first and foremost, in his near-tunnel vision. 

When the calls of his name upon your lips become unbearable, with the curve of his index and middle up into your warm wetness, Rafayel caves, like sand carried back into the depths of the sea, underneath the unrelenting break of waves. Long fingers indenting into pliant thighs as he cleaves them up and apart for unobstructed access to your weeping slit and presses a parched tongue to lap up your essence.  

Curling his tongue up into your fluttering walls as his fingers dance against the tight bead of pleasure in between your legs, to the steady compresses of your thighs against the strength of his shoulders.

Rafayel adores and encourages your honesty in bed.

Ready to slow down when and if you tell him how overwhelmed you are. Takes you faster when you beg him to make you come with his mouth. All the while, that dark azure gaze is fixated upon you, the flush beneath them turned a deeper crimson with each sound of satisfaction he triumphantly plucks out of you. 

Lashes descending involuntarily, only when you crest at the peak of your pleasure and flood yourself onto his waiting tongue. The taste of a delectable sea; he laps up every single drop of until he is sated. 

And it is only when you implore Rafayel to put his cock inside you does he startle at the negligence of his body; hard and leaking, soiling the sheets beneath him.  

When you finally, finally connect, painfully slow; the push comes without resistance offered, from how wet he has had you from his ministrations, for a good part of the night.  

Rafayel has to struggle to breathe at the sensation of your warmth around him, tight, herculean control the likes of which he hasn’t ever had to scrabble for, ever in his life. To not just spill the moment he is inside you.  

Her pleasure, I want to feel it. I want to make her feel good.  

Still the sole thought behind that glazed, hot gaze. A moment of odd, emotional vulnerability when your eyes finally lock, your hands wandering now, to cup across his face.  

And when he begins to move, Rafayel needs to feel each and every single part of you with every single fibre of his own. Fingers resuming their trek of their now favorite canvas as you murmur love and praise into his ears. The weight of a breast hefty against one large palm, the other with his fingers intertwined through yours as he propels into you.  

Both of your releases, one and the same; as his eyes remain on the scrunch of your brow, just before he too falls, burying his face against the crescent of your neck. 

Rafayel’s style of love-making is firmly passionate.  

It is emotional, relieving and often times fun. He is incredibly adept at reading your cues and adjusting his pace according to your wants. Sex, in his mind, is an activity, as deserving of time and patience as his art — an intricate worship — and hence he usually requires the two of you have those several, long hours to spare before he gets to undressing you. Quickies, as such then, he isn’t a massive fan of.  

Neither public spaces — a private dressing room at one of his events, requiring the two of you to be out within a certain time period — no matter how desperate or wanting he might be. Silencing your own protests with a long, hushed kiss and a skewed mischievous, flushed smile that has your heart quivering inside your chest. “Be a good girl now and wait,” he remarks before setting your disheveled collar back in order. The graceful sweep of his hand; for you to take, once you are done, ready to escort you out into the venue.  

Open but private spaces, however, where you have time to spare and none to disturb, his private beach behind his home, is where you might find yourself spread wide across soft cloth. The cool waves of the shore lapping gentle at your tightly furled toes while Rafayel’s mouth works at the slick in between your legs. Truly his idea of a well-enjoyed romantic date. 

On the note of basking in the benevolence of seas, Rafayel loves giving oral as much as he enjoys receiving it.  

He isn’t incredibly vocal when it comes to giving voice to his desires, for having your mouth on him, often because he is more than happy [and engrossed] to have his mouth do all the talking (and lapping), while you luxuriate underneath the feel of his tongue and lips, like the [his] Queen you are. He loves servicing you to completion, no matter how much his tease of a foreplay may point to, otherwise.  

It is only when your mouth takes him in for the first time, on your request do you make the delightful discovery of Rafayel’s little give-aways. The quiver of his fingers threaded firm through your hair. The clench of a fine toned abdomen, ripples of tight pleasure splaying across his torso.  

“You’re doing so well, baby— hah, just like that. What have you done to me? You’re so good.” 

The drop of his jaw, the fine, dark dusting of red smeared across his cheeks and ears. His slow, stuttered groans and pants.  A deliberate suckle at his tip has him throwing his head back at the sensation, fingers spasming against the back of your skull. Your own resistance shattering and you take him in whole, the moan that chokes out of Rafayel’s throat in reward for your efforts is heaven enough, you keep returning for more.  

Rafayel is loud and has no shame in showcasing his love and desire for you through the sounds he makes, just for you.  

Part of the reason also why he prefers privacy to public displays of affection or quick sexual encounters. And he encourages just the same for you.  

Be it the sounds of appreciation that leave his mouth, muffled and undulating, into your pussy or while he is inside of you, enjoying every single inch of your drenched, clenching flesh against his length.  

“If you squeeze me that hard, I’m going to—” 

Words fracturing apart into a long, stuttered moan he presses right against your lips. Foreheads slick with the sweat of your desires as he bears down against you. Bright blue gaze meeting yours — the gentle florid fringe of pinks — steeped in pleasure as his fingers curve about your jaw, pleading a kiss from your lips. 

“My pretty girl.” A flushed devastating grin. “Let me come inside you. I want to feel the way your body clamps around me when I do. Gods, please.” 

Rafayel is an immensely flexible lover. No rules are set in stone, no bedroom innovations entirely over-ruled before the two of you knock it at least once.  

There is no sole lead; only the steps you weave in between you two, together. He is receptive to a wide variety of tastes and kinks; ever the most studious, eager participant, save for the rare personal boundary or two, he has set in place (see above: feelings regarding public sex). 

Grasping your hand to fold a kiss against your palm as he moves within you. Bidding on sex-hoarse whispers to entrust yourself to his care while he sets to plunging your entire being into flames, pleasure so exhilarating you’re left grappling for air by the end of it all. All the while, he shapes his marks of adoration against your skin, soothing warmth to set nerves lax from all their previous exertion.  

Or, when you ask it of him, supplicates himself — a willing, grinning participant — loving, puckish desire set to blaze within his dark eyes. Tracking each single move, the delicate fingers that sketch against his heaving abdomen, the hand that moves to enclose his cock in between eager digits and pump, slow: a delectable torture. And he responds in kind to your enthusiasm, if you leave his mouth unbound and able — sings for you as you so enjoy, in that rapturous voice you so adore. Lent a lascivious flavour from how his head rolls back across his neck in the throes of incoming release, the flush of him flooding down across his chest from how aroused he is for you to be doing what you are to him.  

The sight of him in his entirety is enough for your own patience to wear paper-thin, drenched wet from the erotic picture he paints beneath you.  

Rafayel’s house is a mess. 

...Something he often brushes off as personal ‘creative choices’, declaring he finds a certain order to his disarray of things strewn about.

The colors he knows exactly where to pluck off the floor of his studio. A second draft of an upcoming painting, pinned underneath a [fish] magnet against the kitchen cabinet. A spare shirt draped across the arm of a sofa for when he wants to quickly switch out of pigment-stained clothes in between paintings.  

However, he takes special care to keep his bedroom — or at the very least, on worse days, one sofa — in acceptable, spruced order. Especially so, after you start coming over to visit or stay the weekend, accompany him on days he holes himself up in his house, to pore over an artwork. Often so preoccupied, by the time he snaps out of it, several hours later: to a velvet sky outside and you scrunched up in an upright position, with your head coasting sideways at an uncomfortable angle, in your sleep.  

The first and last time that happens as he carts you into his arms and off to his bedroom to tuck you into his bed and insists you retire to his bedroom on your own, the next morning, whenever you feel like dozing off. Making a point, then onwards to always have it ready and at your disposal.  

For sleep and when you’re both not; tangled within each other and the sheets, cooling down from your highs.  

Rafayel craves chaste physical intimacy post-coitus as he drags you into his arms, your breath warm against his chest. He despises being away from your comfort for even a moment’s breath; extra adorable and tetchy in his phase of dramatics if you try and squirm away. 

Has startled you on one particular occasion; hunched, stark naked, by the door of the bathroom as you stepped out of it. A frown knit in between his brow, a disagreeable moue to that beautiful mouth and a simple, “I’m cold, warm me.”  

An amalgamation of just how Rafayel is like and something else; deeper, you suspect it stems from unspoken fears of loneliness. There are nights you don’t quite understand, when his emotions run rampant and his need for physical affirmation and constant connection are strong; the man immediately soothed to rest the moment your hand is across his cheek, fingers caressing down the sculpt of his jaw. Tiring him at last into exhausted sleep. A vulnerability to his visage only you are allowed  to stand witness to.  

There is something so incredibly erotic about his girl when she lets him put his cock against her mouth... 

Testing every single mental fortitude, he has ever had thrown up, walls of iron built over the course of centuries, crumbling at the feeling of your wet mouth against his length. Drawing him in before you swallow him, right to the base.  

Taking his seed down your throat like the damn, amazing girl you are but if you pull back at just the right moment, firm fist bringing him to spill against your cheeks, traversing down the arc of your neck— 

Rafayel’s thoughts frizzle into a numb void, mouth agape and panting. A scarlet flush dashed across the ridge of his cheekbones, his ears, to witness your face dirtied by smears of his cum. The sight truly untethers a carnal, primitive want in him, he isn’t able to fully parse himself.  

Truly imprinted upon as the bride of the Sea God. 

Your sexual sessions are more often than not, kicked off on sensual, fun notes and back-and-forths.  

A stray jibe you might throw his way at one of his odd habits and he’s plucking you right off your feet. Nimble digits feathering down the expanse of your abdomen in retaliation before you’re reduced to giggles; both of your fingers catching at the other’s clothes in an attempt for dominance before you drift, natural, against the other’s mouth in soft, scheming smiles. 

Or, when you reach to strike the firm muscle of his behind, the sweet, silly twist to his mouth right as he startles, an indignant, scandalized gaze he rolls your way. “Why, you—” Before you reach to grasp him by the collar and drag down towards your waiting, open mouth. Lips drawing wide into a smile as you feel his reciprocated urgent squeeze across your ass; the pads of his fingers tracing the lining of your panties beneath your skirt. “Don’t make me return the favor several fold, pretty siren.” 

The bite of restive teeth he sinks into his lower lip as he hauls you up and against his rigid length. Before you reach forward, disengaging his lip, to suckle it into your own mouth. “Try me.” 

The act itself leaning more into the romance of the moment and slow, deep thrusts into your body as Rafayel drifts against you. Mouthing every piece of spare skin in sight, affirmations and assurances as clear and heard as the moans that tumble from his lips.

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[lomlhwa]

portrait (y.jh)

pairing: bf!jeonghan x gf!reader

preview: your boyfriend is so pretty. so, how can you turn him down when he asks you to draw him while he eats you out?

tags/warnings: fem reader, oral (f.receiving), pussy drunk hannie, lots of dirty talk, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, pet names (pretty baby, mama, my love), drawing while fucking

trigger warnings: n/a

w/c: 724

song recs for this fic: touch tank by quinnie

a/n: listened to some asmr on this topic and jeonghan was the first person to come to mind (sorry this is so short)

“whatcha doing, pretty baby?” jeonghan asks as he walks into your shared bedroom.  you look up at him and smile, shaking your pencil at him. “i’m trying to draw.”

your boyfriend stands at the end of your bed and runs his hands up your shins. “what are you drawing?” he asks, goosebumps appearing in the wake of his fingers. “nothing. I'm uninspired,” you sigh, putting down your pencil and paper. 

“i have an idea,” jeonghan says, his voice pitch dropping low. you can tell by the tone of his voice, it's something sinister. your raise your eyebrow at him and cross your arms. jeonghan bends your legs at the knees and crawls between your legs. he rests his pretty face on your stomach and looks up at you.

“you could…” he trails off, dipping his fingers under the waistband of your pants. “draw me while eat your pretty little pussy.” your heartbeat picks up immediately and your face flushes red. “r-really?” you ask, almost unsure of whether or not you heard him right.

jeonghan nods, tugging on your pants. your hips lift on their own volition, allowing him to completely strip your bottom half. he presses soft kisses to the plush skin of your thighs. “what do you say, pretty baby?” you chew on the back of your pencil as you nod shyly. jeonghan’s tongue darts out out of habit, licking your inner thigh.

“make sure to draw me real prettily. i know how much you love how i look between your legs,” he gives you a playful wink before diving into your wetness. he slurps at your hole, drinking up the slick that has been seeping out of you since he came into your room. you bring a shaky hand down to your page and begin to sketch your boyfriend’s current position.

“fuck, you taste so fucking sweet. my favorite candy,” he mumbles into your pussy, sending delicious vibrations through your whole body. you trace the lines of your boyfriend’s perfect face and his perfect hair. you sketch the way his hair falls when he gets really focused on your wet heat.

his tongue abuses your clit and you can’t help but lose focus on your drawing and throw your head back. “fuck, hannie,” you moan out, biting your lip. “keep drawing, mama. i wanna see how i look in your eyes while i make you feel so good.” you force your eyes to refocus themselves and start drawing again.

you slowly start to shade in the shadows that are cast by the sun from your bedroom window. they make jeonghan look even more ethereal. “you’re so tasty, baby. the prettiest pussy. it’s all mine.” out of nowhere, he wraps his arms around your waist and holds you down to eat you like a mad man. his tongue in incessant and covers the surface area of your pussy with insatiable hunger. “oh fuck,” you choke out, your orgasm rising with every movement of jeonghan’s mouth.

“baby, baby, please i’m gonna cum,” you squirm and try to get away from his mouth, your core being so sensitive. “give me your cum, my love. let me drink you up,” jeonghan holds your thighs open with strong hands and does his best to get your orgasm out of you.

abruptly, you reach your high, your thighs clamping down on jeonghan’s head for dear life. but, he doesn’t stop his almost inhuman pace. you let out a strained laugh as another orgasm builds. “hannie, oh my god,” you push on his head, trying to get him to come up for air. his arms keep your bottom half locked against his face. “give me another one, mama. i know you can do it. give it to me. fucking give me it,” he orders.

another orgasm crashes over you, your entire body thrashing. your thighs tremble around jeonghan, your nerves taking over your body. you can barely feel your legs anymore. 

your boyfriend gives some final kitten licks to your cunt before pulling away. he wipes your juices off his mouth before smiling oh so innocently at you. 

“well, lemme see the drawing.” your shaky hands pick up your sketchbook and turn it to show jeonghan the beautiful drawing you made of him. “damn, that’s what i look like down there to you? maybe i should just live there.”

© lomlhwa 2024

[kittenintheden]

music to my ears

just a little rainy day eargasm, as one does.

Rating: E Word Count: >1k Content: 18+, elf ears are erogenous zones, touchless orgasm, ear kissing, ASMR, cream dem jeans

---

Rain patters gently on the roof of the tent, the sound a soothing end to an arduous day. Astarion and Tav lounge together purely for the physical affection of it, her arms encircling his shoulders from behind as he sits between her legs, his back pressed up against her.

He still can't quite believe she's agreed to this. No sex? He's never lived in a world like that. But she not only seems willing, she seems eager to discover a dozen new kinds of intimacy.

As if she senses his train of thought, she puts her lips right up to his ear and says, “This okay?”

He hums and arches, feeling a pleasant tingle spread across his scalp and down the back of his neck.

“Is what okay?”

“Are ears okay?” she whispers.

Another wave of tingles passes over him and he grins lazily. “They’re above the waist, aren’t they?” he responds, leaning to the side to give her better access because hells, it really does feel good.

He can feel her mouth move as she hugs him tighter. “Remember you can always ask me to stop if it gets to be too much.”

He chuckles. “What could you possibly do that could be too-”

But then he’s arching again with a gasp as she runs the tip of her tongue up his antihelix all the way to the tip. The wet warmth sends a wash of pleasure straight through him, filling his chest like bath steam and continuing southward to pool behind his navel. His eyes go half-lidded and he swallows.

“Still okay?” she whispers.

Immediately he nods and says, “Yes. I like that. I like that very much.”

“Good.”

He feels her tongue draw over him again, this time behind his ear from base to tip. Then she uses the blunt edges of her teeth to softly scrape back down the outer ridge and he only barely holds back his whine. It’s soothing and erotic in the same moment, contentment and arousal rising in him like the tide.

Inside his trousers, he feels himself growing hard, and it’s not unwelcome. His feet dig into the ground beneath them as he pushes himself back into her, seeking more contact, pressing his back firmly into her chest, and he feels her grin as she places an open kiss to his ear lobe. Brings it into her mouth, gives it a gentle suck.

“Ah,” he breathes, squirming against her as his cock goes fully hard under her attention.

From her position, her own eyes go lustful and glazed as she looks down the length of his body and sees the ridge of him swell and strain against his clothes. Gently, she brings up one hand to play with his hair as she continues to tease his ear with tooth and tongue.

“Pretty,” she whispers in between. “How pretty you are, going weak under me. Who knew your ears were so sensitive.”

He grips her legs tight to either side of him and bites his lip, trying to clear his head enough to respond. “You’re half-elven,” he gasps. “You know exactly… hah… what you’re doing.”

“I do,” she laughs softly. “And you know I know.”

The stimulation continues to coax the flame in his gut, the tension coiling deliciously, making him shudder to the core. She flicks her tongue over his tragus and swirls it into the triangular dip near the pointed tip and he’s panting, panting, nearly writhing against her, using his heels for leverage to push back. His cock twitches, sensitive and untouched, but he feels a crest building nonetheless.

“Would you like to come, dearest?” she whispers right into the center of his mind and he squeezes his eyes shut and whimpers.

He nods, the movement jerky.

“Then come,” she breathes, giving him a hard nip and then a final soothing, firm lick.

His mouth falls open and he all but collapses against her as his hips arch up off the ground and he creams himself, his spend spilling from him in staccato bursts that feel like a brush on the underside of heaven with every pulse. When he’s done, his muscles go slack and he blinks, bleary-eyed, only mildly annoyed somewhere deep in the back of his brain that he needs to get down to the river in short order to wash the trousers he just soiled.

She squeezes him tightly from behind. “Still okay?” she says softly.

“Hnnnnngggggyeah,” he responds.

[vetlasmr]

ASMR - Sharing a double chocolate muffin with you. :)