#its either for toying and or gain

[stolememory]

The idea that Mora is actually, by creation, the void or the absence in a sense, of truth or fact really fuels me. It was created from the tossed out ideas of creation, therefore making their essence at its core opposites of factual reality. Because it is that which was never adapted to reality and truth.

Also might be what makes them an abyss, ink stain, what have you on the various things he tends to. The fate tapestry the biggest one that comes to mind, I've discussed this before but I'll link that again HERE. In general aspects of reality he is unviewable, because reality was never provided the 'eyes' to view what was decided as non-existent.

Also honestly? Mora seems to love his spheres more than he actually embodies them.... he hoards, he consumes and collects. It's not about spreading knowledge, its about obtaining knowledge, memories, fates, etc for him. They are the black hole of which all info comes to, not a great fountain of which to drink and nourish from. Even those that obtain from Mora it is not for the sake of representing the true spread of knowledge but rather for the gain of more in return for the crumbs of what it has already consumed.

Mora is a conceptual void, in comparison to those that embody physical voids. The obstruction of memory, the blotting of history, the consumption of knowledge. In the end, you are left with nothing

As he describes himself, "the riddle unsolveable. The door unopenable. The book unreadable. The question unanswerable." The only answer that satisfies this is 'nothing'. An unsolveable riddle has no solution, a door unopenable is not a gateway, a book unreadable is blank, a question unswerable is one without an answer.

[fleuraliasave]

❤ Version 7.0 Fleuralia Save File ❤

Download link down below (please read entire post before installing)

This save file uses all EP’s, GP’s (not Journey to Batuu), SP’s and most of the kits (Country Kitchen, Blooming Rooms, Incheon Arrivals, Retro Fit, Industrial loft, Moonlight Chic, Little Campers, Pastel Pop, Everyday Clutter, Bathroom Clutter, Simtimates Collection, First Fits, Desert Luxe, Modern Luxe, Poolside Splash, Book Nook, Basement treasures, Greenhouse Haven, Pastel Pop and Bust the Dust).

What’s new in this update?:

Chestnut Ridge and Tomarang have been completely redone, added multiple new lots, updated other lots and provided make-overs for the households.

Added new households (when living in world; with jobs, friends, preferences etc).

Added rental lots in multiple other worlds outside of Tomarang (Brindleton Bay, Henford-on-Bagley, Britechester and more).

Spooky Fall Festival has been moved to Chestnut Ridge (bigger with haunted house ride). The old lot in Brindleton Bay has been changed into a cemetery.

Current Status of Worlds:

Finished worlds: Willow Creek, Oasis Springs, Newcrest, Magnolia Promenade, Windenburg, San Myshuno, Forgotten Hollow, Brindleton Bay, Del Sol Valley, StrangerVille, Glimmerbrook, Sulani, Britechester , Evergreen Harbor, Mt. Komorebi, Henford-on-Bagley, Tartosa, Moonwood Mill, Copperdale, San Sequoia, Chestnut Ridge (NEW!) and Tomarang (NEW!).

Finished vacation worlds: Granite Falls and Selvadorada.

Finihed other lots: Hospital, Science Lab and the Police Station.

To be updated: the Magic Realm, will either be included in a future update or on the gallery (OriginID: fleuralia)

What do you get with this save?:

For my save file all lots are either completely new builds (almost all) or renovations, ofcourse created by me. Exceptions: I have added the official builds for the releases of the Paranormal SP by Dr Ashley and the Dream Home Decorator GP by Deligracy to this save, since I thought they deserved a spot. These two are therefore not my own creations, credits are given in the description to Dr Ashley and Deligracy. Mt. Komorebi, Henford-on-Bagley, Tartosa, Moonwood Mill, Copperdale, San Sequoia and Chestnut Ridge lots are largely created by GameChangers. Most lots have gotten smaller updates, others are completely new builds by me.

All the townies had make-overs plus I added new families to spice it up a bit. Some of the townies are made by other creators, who are given credits in the description of the household. All the townies in the different worlds have a story, some include sentiments and adjusted relationships to the story.

Added plenty of community lots to give your Sims something to do (YAY!). Almost every world has one restaurant, but it also includes festivals that represent the four seasons (park lots) and a fully functional shopping street in Magnolia Promenade (toy store, bridal store and more).

I have added rental lots so you can go on vacation in more worlds. For example in Sulani, Willow Creek and Windenburg.

Other details:

As mentioned at the beginning, this save uses almost all packs (except Journey to Batuu and some kits). This means that if you download it without owning or installing most of the packs a lot of objects will disappear from the save, but if you are not bothered by this you can still download and play in it.  

I disabled the autonomous fame gain and neigborhood action plan voting/environmental changes, you enable them again in the pack settings menu.

I would love to add some households in this save created by all of you! Add your household under the hashtag #fleuraliatownies in The Sims 4 Gallery, you can add a storyline and world in the description but thats not obligatory. If I respond on your creation it means that I have incorporated it in the save for the next update.

Sadly every game update comes with a lot of bugs. I suggest before reporting problems in the save to me, to check on forums if its related to a general bug/glitch or to mods (if you use them).

Questions and supportive feedback are always welcome, you can reach me here via a comment on this post, an ask or through a DM 😁

How to make it work in your game:

Download the save file from the link below.

Drag it in your saves folder under: PC/Documents/Electronic Arts/The Sims 4/saves.

Change the numbers if you already have a save with the same name.

It should now show up in your game as: Fleuralia Save Version 7.0.

DOWNLOAD (SFS) / Alternate (GD)

!!Don’t re-upload or claim as your own!!

Future updates will follow after each pack release (if it includes a world). The time the update will be uploaded after each release depends on how much I have to change and on my work schedule around that time.

Last but not least, enjoy and till next time! XX

Fleuralia

Feel free to support me ❤️: Ko-fi account

[wroteclassicaly]

18+

When your best-friend Steve Harrington asks you to hold his fleshlight for him.

It wasn’t really something that either of you planned on happening. But then it just did. Steve had been pent up from work all day from typical annoying patrons, smart mouthed jocks from the high school, that were freshmen when he was a senior (tenfold karma, Harrington), and Keith’s particular way of criticizing his every move out of some form of nerdy revenge. You could count on one hand the times that Steve had to bail out of your two person movie nights on Fridays (Saturdays were for dates and Sundays were for hanging with the rest of the parties and running kids around), and tonight happened to be one of those occurrences. Usually, it would be for self-care or whatever reason he needed to spend alone, but when he’d barely shed his leather jacket upon entering his house, dusting snow off of his boots — he was about to crawl out of his skin by the time his massive palm was wrapped around the receiver, thumb strangled by its cord.

He was… off? And seconds after he’d cancelled without much reason, the line went dead. You wanted to give him space, especially because he usually called back to tell you goodnight. But after being unable to sit still and finish a generous portion of the large pepperoni pizza you’d ordered the two of you, you were grabbing your keys for the journey over to his place.

~*~

It didn’t take but five minutes before you reached Steve’s house, pulling in behind his familiar car. You dangle the copy - made spare from your pointer finger, trekking your way up to the door and letting yourself in, wiping at your wind-whipped, wet eyes. You know he’s not on the first floor, its entirety dark and a little cool. So you toss your coat and keys onto the small table beside the entryway, kicking off your boots to join his on the cheesy welcome mat, and you make your way to the second floor landing to his bedroom. Seeing a buttery glow spill out from the crack in his doorway, you’d proceeded, only to be met with a sight that only appeared in your late night fantasies… and pretty much your every waking thought.

Steve is facing his mattress, sheets tousled and clothing pooled beside him, stood on the left side of his bed, naked and glistening in the perspiration of teasing, observing his massive length as he edges himself, moving the toy slowly over his cock. You know what it is, you’ve seen it in magazines and stores, in some porn. A fleshlight, they call it. Your brain goes through a million thoughts at a couple seconds to spare.

Why doesn’t he have someone here to do this with? He can get a date?

Is he okay? Obviously he’s very okay.

Holy fuck… he’s big.

Holy fuck… he’s beautiful.

A little more than usual, waiting on the summer sun to tan his freckle and mole spattered skin. His hair has grown longer, curling at the nape, his shoulder blades and biceps defined from a regular regime. And that ass, the way it flexes and is perfectly plump, connecting to those hairy thighs and big feet, his own toes curling when he twists, a wet squelch coming from the faux cunt. There’s beautiful chestnut curls scattered across him sternum and connecting to a trail that surrounds his base and those full, heavy, balls. That cock… thick, barely able to be pushed back into the toy, his fingers having to peel back its soft pink layers to help ease the slick way, decorated in a vein that matches the one running along his forearm

And you must make some sort of noise, because your lips part to let in a gasp of air, causing his body to twist in a sudden defensive stance, clenching the toy so tight with a ‘caught’ pose. You go to move and the door spills open completely, slamming back into his dresser and shaking old sports trophies. You’re panting, seeking out the words to apologize, Steve is wincing from how hard he still is, attempting to cover his modesty. But the air shifts in the room and you gain a boldness, a restlessness that won’t be satiated, nor a conscience satisfied if you don’t ask.

“Can I help you?” A customer service line from working at Scoops with him. But it comes naturally.

Steve, biting his lip, disheveled — he nods. And it’s happening. A tickling ease, a line crossed.

“C’mhere.” He’s waving with his opposite hand. His ribcage expands as he gulps in lungfuls of air.

You’re at his side shortly, shyly. “W-what do you need me to do?”

His spare hand pushes back through his hair, amber gaze gone to a midnight sky, teeth milky white, defined jawline covered in stubble, and a perfect nose. His voice is raspy when he lets you know what he needs.

“Go get on my bed, lay back for me. Please?”

A fucking gentleman.

All of your clothes feel too tight, smothering you as you lay back on his bed, his pillow immediately invading you. Your hands are unsure of where to go, but he approaches slowly, kneeling his way into kneeling by your feet. “I’m gonna… Can I use this between your legs, honey? You don’t have to do anything, just let me do all the work.” He motions to the toy and you want nothing more, suddenly offered the world.

It’s your turn to say it now. “C’mhere.”

He’s using that enriched tendon covered forearm to prop himself up beside of your head, slotting right between your knees, his remaining hand wrapped so tightly around the toy that his skin is pulled taunt over his knuckles. He sinks his teeth into his lower lip, releases it, licks it, and then he’s asking, “Can I?”

“Go. Do what you need to do. I’m right here, Steve.”

If you thought the toy was loud before, the sound of him working his lengthy girth through its walls right in front of you now — it’s surround sound. You’re watching, unable to help it, bones threaten to be dusted to ash from how hard your heart is ramming beneath your breastbone.

“Wanted to come over, but it’s been a shit week, an even shitter day. And I just needed to —“

“— Release some tension, right? I get it, I do it too. I have a cock that goes… I —“ you stop your horny rambling, face feeling too much warmed.

Steve’s face scrunches, teeth gritting, and he twists the toy until slowing it almost completely. “Tell me what you do. You fuck yourself with it, right? When everything is too much and not enough? Fuck, honey.”

He doesn’t verbalize, but you don’t either, simply accept the toy and hold it against your denim covered cunt, leaving Steve’s hands free to hold on either side of you, his nose nudging yours as he leans down — here, present. You copy his earlier motions, using the toy to glide along his length as he thrusts into it with a new focussed vigor. “That’s it. You feel so good, honey. Workin’ me so right.”

“I’m soaking — fucking — wet for you, Steve. Just so you know.”

His hips stutter and his nose finds its way into your eyelashes, cheek pressing into your own. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum into this thing, and I want —“

“— You want what, Steve?” You hold your breath.

He answers without fear or pause. “You.”

// Eat me paragraph //

[arieswritez]

vincible

vincible | mark grayson x gn!reader (fluff)

alright since you all asked so kindly here's the fluff from my last hc 🫶🏾 :

cw: slightly suggestive but nothing nsfw. that's all :D

"why's it looking at me like that?"

the two of you are in bed and with his weight pinning you down, you find it hard to concentrate on what he means.

your head's all fuzzy with the way he's been drowning you in kisses. he kisses you like it might be his last chance to do so: sweet, languid until they melt into something more feral. the way his costume hugs his body doesn't exactly help your concentration, either.

your body's warm as it soaks up his body heat - he's like a fucking furnace - and it yearns. . no. . demands for his attention. you ignore him, making a soft, impatient sound that sounds more like a whine as you try to guide his lips back onto yours.

however, he keeps his head turned to your right, staring at a spot on your bed and says, "what're you lookin' at, huh?"

you pull back, confused, then follow his line of vision.

finally, you see what he sees: a stuffed animal perched against your pillow.

you watch as mark squints at the toy, then, tilts his head and scoffs in indignation as if it's just hurled an insult his way.

"what'd you say?" mark sits up and away from you, puffing out his chest.

the plushie stares at mark with big, black, empty eyes.

you stare up at mark, confused, as he carries on his one sided beef with your plushie.

"they cuddle you while im not here?"

mark crawls over to your plushie and grabs it by its soft neck, his fingers wrapping around the entirety. he pulls it close, putting his nose right up against the toy's. "you wanna say that again, tough guy? don't you know who i am?"

"mark, what're you doing -" you giggle, leaning back on your elbows to watch the ridiculous display before he shushes you.

"hey, you stay out of this. i'll deal with you later." he snaps before turning his attention back to the toy. "oh, you don't care? well, let's see if you care about this -"

mark suddenly shoves the toy into his face.

he flops down atop your bed, wildly flailing with one hand while the other mushes the plushie against his face. he's comically good at it, too, looking like he's being mauled by some feral cat.

he's only emboldened by your uncontrollable laughter: grunting with effort as he rolls over the stuffy and delivers a few blows. even making his own sound effects before he rolls onto his back, your toy gaining the upper hand once again.

this time, he sits the toy atop his face and flails like he's being suffocated. eventually, his body falls limp. the hand that isn't holding the toy upright falling limply at the side of your bed.

your plushie's fought dirty and won.

"i dunno, mark," you manage to say between hiccuping laughs, "you seem pretty vincible to me."

"very funny." comes his muffled voice from beneath the toy. he sits up, stuffy still in hand as he fixes you with an accusatory glare. "laugh. yeah, laugh, while your boyfriend's being mercilessly beaten."

he crawls closer and he thrusts the toy in your direction, waving it side to side by the back of the neck, holding it at arm's length like he's afraid it'll attack him. "i guess you want him now, don't you?"

you raise a brow. "don't misgender my plushies, grayson."

mark retracts the plushie and flips it upside down, looking at its bottom. "oh, right."

you let out a chortle of laughter and he's on you in seconds: pinning you down and smushing the plushie against your face, making kissy sounds while you breathlessly beg him to stop.

[riki-dazed]

Pretty boy

NSFW smut · masturbation, dry humping · wc: 823

Perched atop Riki's thighs, you feel the warmth of his bare skin against your own exposed flesh. Your teeth sink into your lower lip as you take in the sight below you, a rush of anticipation causing your breath to catch in your throat.

With his gaze fixed on yours, Riki's attention remains unwavering as he continues working on himself, the rhythm of his wrist's movements gaining momentum as each second ticks by.

You watch, transfixed, as he becomes beautifully fucked out beneath you, unable to tear your eyes away from his swollen, parted lips. Riki's brows twist in pure ecstasy, and as his panting intensifies, your name begins to twist itself amongst his whines for you.

Having you watch Riki attend to his own needs stirs something within him, every single time. A string of hissed curses fall out of his lips as he remains unfazed by any sense of shame.

With a smile finding its way across your lips, your fingertips begin to graze along the skin on his abdomen, your hands itching to replace his own.

"You're doing so well, my pretty boy."

Your words of praise only add fuel to the burning fire, that is Riki's mind, and its desires.

The eye contact between the both of you alone is almost enough to send you over the edge untouched, yet you manage to keep it together. You want to enjoy this moment to the fullest, especially considering that its been a while since you've had some alone time with your boyfriend like this.

He reaches his free hand out to you, thumb itching between your folds. Your mouth falls slightly open, the pressure of his thumb finally pressing against your clit causes you to see stars.

He groans, the realisation of how you're almost dripping for him leaves the boy almost dizzy.

"So fucking wet—"

Riki continues to get himself off, the feeling of your soaked core against his touch bringing him closer towards the edge. His touches are light, and playful. You know he's toying with you; he's enjoying himself way too much.

Your hands wrap around his forearm, keeping him in place, as you can't help but start grinding against his fingertips. Your neediness to also get off causes a smirk to play on his smug features.

"Not yet, Riki— not yet," He chants incoherently to himself. His eyes soon shut closed as the grasp he has around his length falters.

After a few more strokes, he abruptly pulls his other hand away from your core, causing you to elicit a whimper at the sudden loss of contact. Though, his hands shift to gripping at your waist. Understanding his silent request, you adjust your position accordingly.

Now, you find yourself straddling his pulsing length, in which rests against his abdomen.

"Fuck," he breathes at the contact, "Fuck, Y/n—"

You rest your hands on Riki's toned chest before you begin to grind down onto him, the slickness between your folds facilitating smooth movements as you slide back and forth. He rests his hands on either sides of your hips, gently guiding your motions.

Riki's in a state of pure bliss. "Just— fuck. Just like that."

You set a needy, fast pace. You know it's not going to take a lot for you to reach your high, not with how badly you've needed a release this entire time. Judging by the way Riki's fingers are digging into the skin on your hips, and the way whines of your name are escaping his lips, suggest that he too is on the brink of a climax.

Sighing blissfully, you lean downwards, your chest meeting his. You find yourself leaving a soft peck on his nose as your eyes find his hooded gaze, "Are you close?"

Riki hums in response, confirming what you already knew. Your mouth engulfs his, swallowing him in a passionate embrace.

Snaking his arms around your back, Riki pulls you into a tight hug against his torso. The warmth radiating off his skin clashes with yours, in which sends you into a complete, and utter trance. Although you've lost your range of motion, it's the last thing in your mind at this current moment. You take a second to just lay on him, trying to catch your breath, as he continues to grind up against you.

A tired, deep chuckle leaves the back of Riki's throat as his hands move down your back, settling upon your ass. He can tell you're slowly running out of energy.

You sink your teeth into his smooth shoulder, tracing the skin with your tongue. His groans echo directly into your ear, and you realise that there's no way you can keep it in any longer.

Not after that.

Riki's voice is barely above a whisper as he nips at your ear,

"Come for me."

...

Copyright © 2024 riki-dazed. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED | Do NOT edit, copy, translate or repost any of my work without permission.

[violestars]

𝙄 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙨 𝙢𝙚

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: Sunday x male reader

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: childhood friends to lovers AU, so the boy that broke your heart proposed to you— wait what?!

𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚: part 1 definitely not a wip lol, i got too attached to Sunday to let him go. !!only male readers!!

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: angst, hurt comfort, mention of homophobia, controlling family, arranged marriage; kinda suggestive, vulgar language.

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨: part 1, part 2.

“Um— Sunday?” 

The owner of that name, who was clinging stubbornly onto your waist, only replied with a soft nuzzle on your stomach before going silent again. 

How the heck did you even get into this position?

A week without talking to Sunday, not even a small glance from him and you felt too awkward to admire those crystal-like eyes from afar.. listen to those soft lips.. ones that rejected your heartfelt confession— 

“Oh shut it!” You mentally screamed. Past you would not believe this. Sunday? As in the guy that could never be separated from you? The same boy that gained you guys the silly ‘’soulmates’ title? Oh please. 

You were a skeptical person, or a fancier way to call it— anxious. Everything is like a stacked cake to you, so polysemous. Each prettily decorated layer tastes like a plain lie, dig enough and you shall find the sweet truth at the very bottom, if you haven't gone crazy from a sugar high that is! But even if you were a mind reader, Sunday's feelings were always a mystery. Must he be so hidden from you? You have been shaking in your boots at the thought of losing these years of beautiful friendship if he hadn't noticed already. 

“It has always been just him and me together.. Why can't you just share your true thoughts?” You signed, directing your frustrations to the little bear that he got you after a small arcane 'date'— well what your delusional self would call it. You smiled fondly at the memories, him being so deadpanned on how childish the place is, only to gamble his whole life away for a plushie you couldn't stop staring at. Honestly, the strangely designed toy was only cute because it looks like him, just with white wings as ears. 

That is also why it was getting punched to oblivion. 

Ding! 

The abuse stopped as you quickly snatched your phone from the bedside table. Thankfully Robin was updating you on Sunday's condition. All she shared throughout the week with her brother's future boyfriend, the dumb nickname reserved for you specially, was his health and little behaviors. Nothing too useful, not too specific for speculation. “I swear Y/N! If I could I would— the guy was made out of stone or something!” You remembered the poor twin sobbed out, only to be glaring at you for replying with “No wonder he looks like an ethereal sculpture..” 

But this time, your phone wasn't buzzing with several messages of either gossip or complaints, there were only one. 

“Brother mumbled your name and ran straight out after I came home! Please don't fight! His face was as crinkly as an old man's!” 

If the circumstances were different, you would have let out a soft chuckle yet you were at a loss for words. Last time he did that, you had to lie to your sleeping parents about such noisy commotion downstairs. 

“Did I lock my windo—” 

“You didn't.” 

Sunday replied. 

And here you were, laying underneath him, being pinned to your own soft bed. You have dreamt of being treated like this before, and if it wasn't for the fact that the guy laying on your stomach has been on incognito mode for days, you would've started blushing. How did he even get onto your window? Last time you prepared a ladder that you painfully struggled with setting up. Did he drag one here himself? 

“Earth to Sunday?” You asked, hesitatingly patting his fluffy baby blue hair. Your touches carried themselves with confidence after its owner let out a sigh of content, to which you could only muster a small 'cute' under your breath. 

“Fuck them..Those selfish deadbeats..” Sunday grumbled, his voice sending vibration to your tender stomach, making you shivered. You were slightly startled by his wordings, Sunday rarely curses, even around you. Did he have a fight with his family again? 

“Whoa..I just heard some strong words from a guy that never works out— Ow!” You grunted, your sides stinging like an army of fire ants has just devoured your flesh. Who said a crush's privilege was freely inflicting pain onto your delicate body?

You were about to start a fight, there were so many bones to pick with this guy, let's not forget how he ignored your presence first. 

As your hands were about to push Sunday off, he lifted his head up. Crystalized eyes challenging the sparkles of precious diamonds, glistening while they silently begged you to comfort their owner. The first time he looked at you in days and it was when he looked like a kicked puppy. You only sigh, gently pulling him up to your level as he buried his face into your neck. 

“They wanted to marry me off— Well I would thank them if they actually left me alone after. But no! It was to strengthen the family relationships or something. I was given the job to take over my supposed spouse's family business and gain more power to ourselves, themselves if we're being brutally honest.” Sunday finally let out, after swallowing back a hiccup. He was slowly breaking down in your arms, you felt useless for just laying there and rubbing his back. Like you haven't been expecting his family to cook up something as unreasonable as that. 

Unsurprisingly, Sunday knew that clearly, his pained grin proved it. What really was he hoping for? A kiss on the cheek? He was glad you hadn't kicked him out after the isolation he put you through. So he continued to spill out his troubles to you. 

“Of course I didn't agree to that. I don't want to be tied to someone I never loved, like they haven't caged me enough. So I suggested your family.” 

H-Huh???

You felt your eyes were bulging out of its sockets, mouth agape as you were about to question his decision. What did you have anything to do with his arranged marriage? 

“Atta boy. Stay there and look pretty, I'm not finished.” You huffed with a light blush dusted across your face as Sunday chuckled between his soft sniffles. Even in times like this, he was joking around with you. This was definitely not the mysterious guy the girls were gushing over.  

“They shamed you, us. Called us homos or whatever, I couldn't care less if they were only aiming at me. I stood my ground though, I told them your family is definitely on a higher status than any lady’s that caught their nasty attention. The public’s views are changing, if they throw away their historical mindset, they would see how we can manipulate this difference and act like the family is filled with open-minded politicians.” 

You could tell Sunday felt relieved after that rant, which was filled with sassy remarks, yet something was holding his breath back. His heart beats were still jogging around, visible through your own chest. You then noticed how close you both were, not like as best friends you two haven't cuddled, it just felt so so close this time. 

You felt naked under his attentive gaze, looking at you like you were the best thing that God has given him, your cheeks increased in color by instinct. You let out a hum after a tight silence, taking your eyes off his only to be gently led back by the hand on your chin, hopeful eyes boring into yours.

“To simply put. I want to marry you.”

His breath was so close to your mouth. When did he lean in so slyly? You gulped, you were definitely shocked at this plot twist and your expressions were all over the place. You must have looked like a fool at that moment.

Are you even supposed to reply? If so, how?? 

You only licked your dry lips, which succeeded in distracting Sunday's focus. It would have helped if he didn't look at them with such hunger, you felt like a weak rabbit in the wolf's den. The said wolf then turned back to your eyes, ones that he missed admiring with such fondness— ensuring their shine like they were priceless pieces of gemstone. Sunday looked at you with an unsure look, he didn't know what you were thinking as he assumed your heart didn't belong to him anymore. He did recognize the little glint in your eyes though, quietly urging him to continue, just like when you guys were sharing ridiculous stories in your secret spot as mischievous kids. So he did, he owed you a sincere apology after all. 

“I understand. The guy that broke my heart proposed to me, what's up his sleeve this time? I was afraid. Y/N, my love, my life. If they knew we were together, they would use you against me. They would hurt you and I would rip them to shreds— But you would still be trapped. You don't deserve that, my prince. If I knew we were gonna have this argument, I would have brought up marrying you. They have called you such disgusting names.. But they all hide behind me, that's how it has always been. I would be the one hurting you, I am the one hurting you. It pains me just thinking about doing such sins.” 

You were awfully silent, Sunday cringed at how he could clearly hear every movement of the rain, slowly hitting your window. Each drop turned harsher — copying the movement of his heart against yours. They all reminded him this was real, this was reality. 

He was finally facing reality. What he was telling you will change the future for the better or worse. But he will take this shot because he couldn't afford to lose you any further. You are his lover, there is no other. 

“I am a monster, it is clear now. After I pulled you into this mess, I know for sure of my kind. I don't know how you even loved me. Am I not obsessed with you? Aren't you weirded out by that? I'm scared I would let you down, I haven't even experienced real love before I met you, I can't provide you with the affections you're expecting, love—” 

You pulled him into a deep kiss, hands wrinkling his neat white shirt, he definitely just got out from a meeting. 

You could taste the metallic from your mouth, Sunday was returning the action with harsh movements like no tomorrow, like this was some sweet dream of his, biting your lips in the process. You couldn't care less, what mattered was how his actions were screaming desire, like an animal finally being freed from its cage— capturing its prized possession. He definitely regretted giving you the cold shoulder, holding onto you like you would run away once you witnessed his true form.

If you did, what would he do? No, he won't hurt you. He would probably cling onto you like child with its mother, crying like a newborn. He wou—

“..Y-You said you're scared of letting me down.” You managed to say, heavy breaths with shaky hands clutching onto his shoulders to balance yourself as you cut off his chain of thoughts. It was a battle trying to take control with him, all you could do was let out small whimpers once you felt like choking. Sunday looked at you with dazed eyes, this was a side he has never seen, one he would kill to reserve for his own feast. But he was focused, he was getting accepted or thrown away for good— the latter being slightly off chance. 

“How about sticking around to find out first?” You asked, your tone assertive and filled with trust in him. You knew Sunday wouldn't back down from a challenge, you knew how possessive he could be. But you didn't mind. You were inviting a monster into your own home, maybe you were the monster all along. 

“Y/N, you know this isn't a silly game—” 

“Don't you want to make me proud?” Sunday paused, whatever insults he was about to throw up to persuade your stubbornness cut off from his script. He has never felt so weak before. Not even with the family, they still need him. But not you, the way you phrased that, how you were looking at him. You looked like a deity, talking to a dumb buffoon of a peasant, giving him orders he oh so carved.

God, you're divine. 

Sunday only lean into your soft luring touch, his eyes never leaving those that got him so weak in the knees. Filled with much adoration but also power. 

“Cause I'm so proud..” You gently breathed out, fanning his thirsty lips. As they crashed into each other once again, this time full of longing and love, you both have sealed your fate. Where you go, he will follow along. Sunday knew he is yours now, you knew you have always belonged to him. 

Baby, I'm so proud of you.

© art by @/sisi19980408 on twt

[thinkingofausername]

Mutual Misunderstanding (Astarion x Tav)

Summary: Tav has doubts after sleeping with Astarion and leaves him to wake up alone. He draws the worst conclusion.

A/N: This was my first attempt at writing a fanfic and MAN do I have even more respect for fic writers than I already did. This is based on a request/prompt of mine that I posted some time ago.

CW: mention of sex, insecurity, mental health issues, PTSD, mention of noncon, mention of vomiting, bad coping mechanisms, miscommunication, it all ends well though

Tav woke up with the bright heat of the morning sun on their face. They rubbed their eyes and stretched with a pleased sigh before looking at their surrounding. When their gaze fell on Astarion, something in them tightened their chest and pulled the corners of their lips into a small, giddy smile.

For a person doomed to have the sun as his enemy, he looked divine in its glow. His soft curls looked even whiter than usual, his face uncommonly peaceful. No smirk, no snark, just his features, so soft and off guard it caused a fondness to bloom in their chest.

His shirtless chest rose and fell calmly, though he needn't take any breaths at all. Some phantom need, or habit, perhaps. Though his skin was like marble, practically golden in the light, it arose no heat within them. They simply found him beautiful.

They recalled the previous night like a warm, panting, thrilling rush of glimpses. Though filled with passion led by quite an experienced person, they found themselves seeing it as quite... genuine. Astarion knew they haven't had many experiences in the sheets and that they found themselves at a loss at what to do. He gently took the reigns and they had felt genuine safety and care.

Like the sudden feeling of grass beneath their naked back as grogginess gives way for clarity, some overthinking, insecure voice reared its head and paved the way for regret.

All the caresses felt smooth as silk, how many others felt them? All the whispers and rumbles of his voice toyed with their heartbeats, how many others can recall that? All the promises of pleasure and consent reassured them, how many others have had their doubts quelled in such ways?

All that had felt so true and blissful was rapidly becoming nauseating. With all the countless "dances" of his, how can one know spontaneous steps from practiced ones? How could they be sure they were pleasurable enough, appealing enough, exciting enough? They felt a new chapter turning for the two of them, a genuine and loyal one. Now they weren't sure of anything. Now they felt foolish, naïve, played. Gods forgive them, they cared for Astarion so much, but that damned elven, bastardly, precious vampire had them feeling like a cheap one-night-stand. They couldn't blame him but they couldn't think either.

As quickly and quietly as possible, they got dressed and rushed back towards the camp.

When Astarion woke up, he turned on his side towards Tav's smell which still lingered and reached out. His eyes sprang open as his hand met only air and ground. It took him a second to gather himself, remember where he was and what he had been doing. He couldn't even think of the fact he had slept without a nightmare in gods know how long, or that last night was a rarity during which he was fully and gladly present. Any good feelings got thrust into the background as an all too familiar one washed over him.

He couldn't even tell if it was his voice or Cazador's ringing in his head. "You were weak. You put your guard down. You enjoyed yourself. You are a fool. You are a dirty, cheap body to be gripped and groped and thrown away. You are a temporary pleasure with no face and no voice."

If he had a mortal body, he surely would've vomited.

A too complicated clashing of reasonings overwhelmed him. "They used you, but of course they did. Why are you even surprised? You approached them for your own gain, why would you expect a transaction to turn into anything real? Just swallow your trivial feelings and move on." And yet on the other hand - he had felt it was becoming real. It never should've, he never planned for it, but it happened. He subconsciously gave it a chance and look where it got him. Feeling like a naïve fool.

He got dressed, doing it mechanically through memories of filth, bruises, a ringing in his ears and a painful and shameful throbbing between his legs. He walked back to camp, readying his charm on the way.

When he approached them in camp, it felt like a play. Like last night was an episode and they were now back on track.

"Hello, darling", he purred, "Was the walk here terribly difficult? I imagine after last night's... performance, your legs would be quite shaky."

"I'm... fine."

"Well... that's good to hear. We wouldn't want our precious leader experiencing any unwanted effects after sleeping with the nasty, suspicious vampire, now would we?"

Something felt so terribly wrong and regretful. They found no humor in his smirk, no charm in his expertly seductive voice. They just saw... hurt. Poorly disguised at that.

"Wait, Star, I feel like there's a misunderstanding here. Can we just-"

"Oh, so it's 'Star' now, is it? See that's funny, I thought nicknames and other such mushy things were reserved for couples, not late night trysts. But what would I know, after all I have bedded many a person but not one have I greeted in the morning, so don't take my word for anything."

It felt like everything was falling apart with no prior warning, like last night was a crucial moment and they missed out on some defining que.

"Astarion, can we please talk? Something's gone wrong here."

"Whatever do you mean, darling? Nothing's wrong. We had fun last night, lots of fun I might add, and now it is the next day, simple as that. There's nothing to talk about. Now, let's leave this dramatic business behind us and move on, shall we?"

"Astarion, I-"

"Darling, I think we've used our mouths more than enough last night, let's give them a break, yes?"

As he sauntered off, the sinking feeling rattled. In a matter of hours, it seems whatever they had built has managed to fall apart and put them back at the start.

Astarion had quite a talent for ignoring a person while giving them attention. It was the most ironic, painful thing they had witnessed in a long while. He responded, but they felt it would've hurt less if he had stayed quiet. He kept charming, and they yearned for every uncovered softness they had managed to receive from him.

Whenever they attempted to talk to him, either another companion needed them, or Astarion went on a hunt, or they needed to get moving. A few days passed when they got desperate.

"Astarion, we have to talk."

That was it, he thought. He was finally getting thrown away. He tried pretending everything was fine, but he knew that couldn't be the case. They had tasted the only valuable thing about him and they needed nothing else from him.

"Hello, my sweet." His voice almost shook. Gods, he can feel his throat getting tighter. "Do you need something?"

They were still struggling to understand what exactly happened between them, but all they knew at the moment was that Astarion seemed strangely nervous. Afraid, even.

"Easy, Star. I really just want to clear some things up."

"Well... did something happen?"

"Something did, I would just like to know what."

"Whatever could you mean, darling? Things have been perfectly fine."

"Star, please. There's been enough of this. We've been growing more and more distant after a night when we were closer than ever, it really doesn't make sense."

"Darling, if we were to get any closer than we were that night, we would become conjoined", he said with a strained chuckle.

"Okay...", they sighed, "I know that whatever we did some nights ago was a dance very familiar to you and so it likely meant nothing special to you, but it did to me. I'm sorry if I have managed to ruin things between us, but I just couldn't digest the thought of it meaning so little when it felt like so much."

"Oh no, no, no. Wait a gods damned minute, darling. I feel you might have mixed up our lines somehow. 'Likely meant nothing to me'? You're the one who was conveniently absent the following morning, or has the worm messed with my memory?"

He seemed shocked, a bit angry and against all his effort and hesitation, hopeful.

"I...", they huffed a sigh of realization with a small, self-deprecating smile. "It seems I misread your intentions. I'm sorry, Star, I really never meant to hurt you."

His relief was very apparent.

"It's alright, my sweet. I might've also, perhaps, let my dark thoughts get the better of me. It seems old habits truly do die hard. But just to be sure - that night... did mean something, to the both of us?"

"It certainly seems so."

"Well. That is good to know. I'm not sure where this leaves us though."

"Me neither. I've never really done things like this before."

"Reassuring news, truly. I was about to start feeling a bit... lacking, in the area."

"Then we can lack together."

"That doesn't sound so bad", he said with a chuckle and a softness in his eyes they had missed so much.

"Then let's raise an imaginary toast to figuring things out", they said with their hand raised as if holding a glass.

"You're positively ridiculous, my sweet. But yes", he said raising his own "glass", "and also to not leaving me to wake up alone on the dirt as if I had been robbed and knocked unconscious."

"That too. I really am sorry, Star."

"Oh, it's quite alright. Just don't do it again."

"Pinky promise?"

"Now you're overdoing it."

They chuckled as they finally felt the heaviness in the air between them dissipate.

[blueparadis]

╰┈➤ MOVEMENT ✦ SATORU GOJO.

⟣ ──┈ · · · + synopsis ➢ Satoru Gojo decides to make the last session of this contractual relationship memorable for you, by doing what he does best, that is, bending the limits and breaking the rules and in that process, he hurts more than one heart.

+

⟣ ──┈ · · · + cw ➣ non-sorcerer au + bdsm au, bdsm terminology, contractual sex, explicit sexual scenes, mutual pinning, hurt and angst with slight comfort, bondage ( shibari ), Gojo is domme here, sub!reader, mention of safeword and sex toys, slight age gap, gojo is in his pushing thirties reader is twenty-five, tattoo artist!reader, aftercare, angst and fluff; 5,6k word count. | blog navigation + koct’23 masterlist. + cross posted to ao3. |

Perfection is a stage that every creature strives to achieve. A witch tries to devise an evergreen spell for immortality, a lion tries to hunt for an elephant, a bird tries to fly during rainstorms, and an alchemist tries to create a philosopher’s stone— there is no end to it. It is always the most impossible, the oddest feat to achieve. 

So, Satoru Gojo believes that perfection is nothing but a state of mind; to think about achieving something impossible, but that is not where it ends. 

Achieving the impossible is not the end of the road toward perfection, there is always a price that one has to pay. In most cases, it is either the slow painful death or death at an unexpected moment of life, if not death then the skill of achieving perfection is stripped off and now, the creature stands amongst others in shame and sadness, for instance, a witch might lose all her powers after receiving immortality left with eternal desolation and abandonment at the end, a lion might die while hunting for an elephant despite being at the top of the food chain, a bird might lose its feathers and an alchemist might lose their sanity in the pursuit of perfection. Despite such irrevocable loss at the end of such a bumpy and rocky road, people still pursue perfection. They are all chasing nothing but a mirage, how silly!

Satoru Gojo does not understand the idea of a perpetual flow of zeal to achieve such greatness. He never tries to do the impossible, he just does what he is capable of and that alone earns him every bow of a person that he has ever come across, and applause from people with puny ambitions. They think Satoru Gojo is perfect. The cacophony of such praises makes his head ache because, in the end, they are all for nothing but hollow, laced with some ultimate gain underneath. But at the same time, he can not deny the idea of the existence of such perfection either. If he were to deny this slightest possibility of such perfection, he would deny someone’s existence.

Satoru is lying on the bed with half of his body hanging outside the bed. His feet are on the ground while his cyan galactic eyes just stare at the starlight ceiling of this room. He is more than capable than most other men to make someone see stars yet you specifically moved into his house only on one condition, that is, to have a starlight ceiling. What a stinging mockery! His teeth find refuge in the inner flesh at one corner of his lower lip as a vision flashes in his mind. You, laying on your back on this same bed but hands tied together with just his tie and resting at the belly button while his deft fingers push a vibrator inside you. Fully dressed in a pearly white sundress, under the blue lighting, you look nothing less than some fairy god. If such a being were to exist he would say you looked perfect that night.

His phone chimes. Twice. Two different notifications. He jumps out of bed at the second walking towards the side table to check his phone. He is not supposed to be here, according to the rules of his contract with you, in your room. But Gojo has always been the breaker of rules; not all but the rules of which one is the most unaware. For instance, you would not even know that he has been in your room while you are not here, while you are busy with your day. But he is here for a reason not because he wanted to break some grey rules. He unplugs his phone from your charger.

‘One week before the contract terminates’

Satoru turns off the lights and saunters out of your room. One week. Seven days. One sixty-eight hours out of which he can only see you during nights, and play with you only at weekends. This arrangement has been going on for almost two months now; this is the last week he gets to spend with you and the last weekend for his play with you; after that, he will ask you to meet at some cafe to discuss the extension of this contract. Everything is going to be perfect. He does not want to admit how perfect you are in every way simply because he might end up doing something detrimental to this contractual relationship. It shocks him, sometimes terrifies him how you are exactly the person he concocted at one corner of his heart. That is what he liked most about you: you were fearlessly flexible.

Satoru’s jaw dropped when you said you were okay with him if he kept another sub or even a lover. At first, he thought you were bluffing but with a man like him tricks never run out of stock and not once he sensed jealousy in you. Talking with you was liberating be it on the phone or in person. You never invaded his space, his life yet asked the questions that you needed to know as his sub. Sometimes he would think about what it would take to make you feel uneasy, feel vulnerable, feel that everything was crashing down like a centuries-old castle as you desperately needed something to hold on to, someone to cling onto. It is too soon to let a sub like you go. So, he definitely wants to extend his contract with you: no second thoughts about that. Everything was perfect before, being with you, spending time with you, sending you surprise gifts, hearing your squeals of happiness— everything was perfect, what could possibly go wrong? And even if it does, he can handle it. There is nothing that is beyond the grasp of one of the richest bachelors of Tokyo.

It is half past eight and you will be here around ten o’clock. But before that, he needs to check his playroom, set everything right, and prepare dinner. Satoru makes himself busy in the kitchen. He revisits his memories of you, searching for what you like to eat and what you do not. For the past two months at weekends either you cooked along with him or ordered via takeout or had a chance for takeaway. So, he never got a chance to show how good he was with his hands in the kitchen. A low humming escapes his mouth as he starts to gather the ingredients; at first, he needs short-grain rice, vinegar, salt, sugar, and water. He sets the rice for it to cook and meanwhile, prepares the other set of ingredients for the filling. The clock strikes nine, the doorbell chimes and Satoru’s eyebrows grow closer. He walks towards the main door to check the screen and the line of confusion on his forehead vanishes. Both of your hands are full of bags and other accessories. He wonders how you even ring the doorbell before opening the door.

“You are early,” Satoru remarks as he holds the door letting you walk inside his house. You look around and steadily walk towards the kitchen. Satoru follows you a little bit offended from not getting any response from you. Keeping a packet on the counter you wash your hands. “What's this?” he asked standing near the counter.

“Food.” You supply making yourself comfortable on one corner of the counter. Satoru rolls his eyes. 

“You are early,” He repeats. This time more emphasis on ‘early’ to hear the explanation you are to give, that is, if there is one. He has this habit of repeating his sentences, sometimes a word to assert dominance but he never says sorry twice; at least never with you.

“Ummm, thanks to your friend who cancelled the tattoo appointment at the last minute” You open the lid of the pot and smell the aroma of fresh cooking. “Otherwise I would have been quite late.”

“What friend?”

“The one and only, who told you about my tattoo parlour, what was his name again? Geto. Getou-san.”

“You forget the name of a guy like that?” He hands you a glass of water. It is half-chilled. A peal of laughter echoes in the kitchen. 

Satoru’s jaw relaxes, half in confusion and half in worry. He does not know why. “What?” he asks. You compose yourself and answer him. “You keep scolding me about my bad habits yet never fail to keep up with those.” You take a few sips of water, finally locking eyes with him. His mouth is half-parted trying to form any sort of defense to deflect the grave accusation you just made, that is, he is paying attention to the tiniest details even though they are deadly to both of you. 

He has always told you how having cold water is bad for your health, especially when you just come home. He is not a great fan of having meals at any time of the day ordered online, nor your habit of smoking but if you were to lit a cigarette now he would slide an ashtray from somewhere. Satoru drinks the rest of the water from your glass and keeps it in the sink. People generally love this kind of attention but it becomes a little bit hopeful in cases like these and for you, it is just tightening the knots of rope that Satoru has weaved around you these past two months. You are not here to get his attention nor guide his deep-rooted attachment tendencies towards you; you are here because of the contract.

“I need to talk to you about something.” You say holding a cigarette in between your teeth and searching your pockets for the lighter.

“Can’t it wait?” Satoru gives you a lighter, plucking it from one of the pockets of his loose boxers holding the fire for you. His upper body is naked. Even if you have seen him naked enough times to get used to it still you find it distracting. You inhale one full elongated stream of tobacco saying, “Oh sure it can.” He slides an ashtray taking it out from one of the cupboards magically. You scratch your temple out of frustration because the thing is, Satoru Gojo does not smoke. He hates that burning bitter aroma of tobacco yet every room in this house has an ashtray and a lighter. 

“You know what? I’ll just say it right now. It has been bugging me since yesterday.” You start and Satoru effortlessly drags you closer to his body, spreading your legs apart to stand in between them. “What the hell?” You screamingly gasp at such a sudden vicinity.

“Can’t it wait?” This time softer, voice husky but a whisper, a prayer. His toned muscular arms are now wrapped around your waist. “If you are really not tired, shall we go to the playroom or — he trails his hands from the column of your throat to your belly button and then plays with the hem of your skirt. His eyes follow and then halt.

“Playroom.”  You earn an enquiring glance from him. He hums. You jump off the counter and tactfully slip from his arms walking towards the playroom. “Would you prefer me naked, clothed or— you turn to see if he is following you or not only to find he is standing there like a statue gawking at you and drinking you in. “Umm. . .Satoru,” you call and then a flash of teeth sparks from his mouth. He walks towards you, grabbing you by your upper arm he leans towards you having his head in the nook of your shoulder. His lips move. You can feel it. It opens with a pop. You think he is going to say something, maybe something lewd but instead, the soft skin of his lips touches the base of your earlobe.

“No. You look perfect in that dress.” A rasp, a horse whisper, like casting a spell he gently kisses your neck and withdraws. “I’ll be there in five minutes. You can go and wait for me.” You nod unable to look at him. Sometimes Satoru invades your bones and veins through the gaps that you did not even know existed in you. 

“Look at me,” He orders, voice nothing mellowed like before. He notices you swallow before you turn your face to look at him. “Don’t tell me you thought I was gonna kiss you — on your lips —” he tugs at your hair curling one of the strands around his index finger “— you know that is totally off limits.”

Your pupils slide down onto his lips. “Of course not. I know you hate smokey kisses and breaths. Besides, I’m not very fond of breaking rules like you.” And you look up again at him to check his eyes. “Sir” you quip. Mmmmm. He definitely thought of kissing on the lips just now. 

You enter the playroom and as you turn on the lights you notice a vibrator, a blue rope kept on the bed, and a giant teddy bear with red ropes tangled all over its body. He has been practicing. You sit on the edge of the bed and wait. You wait since that is all you have to do now, no changing of clothes or stripping them off. You remember that before coming here you went in your room to keep your belongings and get a quick bathroom refresh but the fact that you found the charger head warm is bugging you more than it should. You would not have known if you did not have to put your phone on charge. Plus, you never keep the switch on when the charger is not in use.

The door opens with a ‘clank’ and you jolt as you turn.

“God. It's just me, Eve.” Right Eve. Eve and Adam. Adam and Eve. He never fails to remind you of the embarrassing story of how you two met every time he is in the playroom with you. You watch him keep a ball gag and a few free love balls. He is gathering toys, moving from one end to the other so fast that you have not had the proper chance to see him and why would you not? He is fully dressed. He looks inexplicably elegant when dressed this neatly. He drags the table towards the bed where you are seated at arm's length of his.

“Now,” He starts grabbing your hands and guiding you beneath a specific lighting. You look up to notice various extensions and slots for hanging bondage. “Today I will not be using a blindfold on you.”  He says and turns towards you. You tilt your head in shock and fear while his hands tie yours in the hanging bondage. In all previous plays, you kept your eyes closed with a blindfold. It is not against the rule of your contract to play without the blindfold but to think he would do it like this was beyond your calculations. You have added this rule, “Blindfold on” against his “No kiss on the lips.” rule but omitting such clause for the sake of play is not your hard limit, the emotional turmoil that comes after is enough to make you feel suffocated. 

“I want you to know everything I do to you today since this is our last session. I’ve tried on myself first but you must know that, by now I know how to just touch you, how tight to make your ropes, and how hard to make each hit.” He continues explaining. Your hands are now hanging tied by the wrist. He takes a step backward standing with his hands tucked over his waist. “And I’ll only do what you have agreed to.”

“Any questions?” You nod and exclaim with a firm tone, “No, Ser Adam.” He cocks a brow and turns around. You watch him put a black mask over his eyes. Grabbing the prussian blue rope he starts to tie it around your upper body. It does not take him long to have you under the tangled form of beautiful knots. Your breaths have already started to become heavy. He puts the ball gag around your mouth as he speaks about another crucial point. “For today's session, I want you to maintain eye contact. I know it might be difficult for you to keep up at first because in our previous sessions, you requested to keep the mask on your eyes but today we are doing something different,” He takes two free love balls from the table.

“The ball of your gag is edible. Since you can’t use your safe word in this session, not while having a gag on your mouth. Just bite it and I’ll immediately stop.” He walks towards you close enough to let his breath fan over you. You look up. Curiosity courses through your veins and you lick the ball. It tastes sweet. Of course. “ However, if you eat it just out of curiosity, then I’ll have to punish you. And we both know you are not very fond of those,” 

You can't help but smile at how he can read your thoughts. “I was late to the playroom because I went to change the ball to an edible one.”  Now he is giving you an explanation of something that you did not need to know. Seeing your eyebrows pinch, Satoru asks, “So, shall we start?”

You nod. He sits down and removes your underwear. Lacy and white in colour. His gaze finds you telling you to get out of your underwear. You have no idea how perfect your outfit is for today’s play. He had bought a set of crop tops and a skirt for this specific play that he had in mind but seeing you walking in a knee-length medium skirt and off-shoulder top made his heart flutter. The skirt is too long for his taste but it will do. Besides, he can take it off anytime he wants.He stands up and puts your panty in his pocket and your eyes dilate at his act. You have come across certain forms of the behavioural pattern of several dommes. But sometimes, Satoru fits in that and sometimes, he breaks it. As the contract is coming to an end, he is breaking more than fitting into them.

He encircles you one time running his hands over your clothed body making you twist and turn your head in shivers of pleasure. Standing behind you he holds your waist, quite firmly and places one of his shoe-covered feet aligned with yours. He slips his foot in between the gap of your feet and spreading them apart he cups your vagina. “Oh don’t be so wet already. I have not even started it.” He runs his fingers through your folds a few times before extending them in front of your face to show you how turned on you are. Then, he holds two metal small balls in between his fingers. It was like a magic trick when he flicked his hands and those turned up. So, that is why the outfit, the mask.

“The same rules apply as before. I’ll put them inside your pussy and if you manage to keep them while I play with you, I reward you. If you do not, I — he pauses rolling the metal ball from up your nape down to your spine and then over your ass — “I get to fuck you.” he says pushing a ball into your hole. “I’ve four of them.” he whispered those words into your ear creating shivers down your spine. He changed the last part. In earlier sessions, he always said that he would punish you. Now, if you can not manage to hold up without dropping any of them he will fuck you, but if you can he will reward you, he said. 

Satoru walks around you to face you. You look at him, at his eyes as he pushes the second ball into you. Taking out other love two balls out of his pocket, he sits down again and pushes them inside. He kisses your nipple while looking at you, retreats to gather saliva in his mouth, and then sucks off hard enough to leave a wet patch over your nipple. He repeats the same on the other nipple as you try to close your legs to keep those balls inside you.

“You are doing a great job. Impressive.” He praises as he ties another spreader bar to the ankle of your legs keeping them apart and making it hard for you to hold the balls inside you. “Oh do not look so displeased my Eve. . . The main trick is still up my sleeves.” He walks back toward the table and grabs the vibrator. Safeword was at the tip of your tongue and heart at the bottom of your throat. But you waited. The sound of vibration alone creates goosebumps on your skin but as he starts to touch it all over your body, you fail to keep up with your senses. Satoru watches your palms turn into fists, twist and curl as he places the vibrator over your belly and then onto your nipple again. He would love to see how you would keep up if he were to put the vibrator over your pussy. It would not hurt to try, would it now?

“Let me know if it's too much.” He whispers into your ear before dragging the vibrator over your spine and holding it onto your inner thighs. You whimper and squeal as your vision clouds. Squeezing your eyes shut, tears trickle down your cheeks. A smile spreads across Satoru’s face as you exceed his expectations. He increases the vibrating limit by one unit as he holds it over your wet pussy. Saliva has started to accumulate inside your mouth. It is so hard not to bite onto the ball and if you bite it too hard the shocks of pleasure will cease to flow. His mouth latches onto one of your nipples as he increases the vibrating limit again. Two more switches to go. 

You arch your head backward, body squirms as he detaches his mouth. You can feel the metal balls slipping. They might drop if Satoru decides to remove the vibrator. He watches your lips, your eyes, your body, and all movements of pleasure that he is causing you right now. Dragging the vibrator up your vagina to your belly button he starts to suck against the column of your neck.  His teeth sink into your skin at different spots giving birth to several bruises while he pushes the head of the vibrator inside your vagina. It is too much. You feel like you are going to explode or melt. Fuck, you do not even know which is it. The sound of the vibration fades, but the intensity does not rather it increases. Your eyes feel heavy, breaths irregular, and full of moans. You feel like you are going to faint but then you hear a voice, his voice. 

“Bite the fruit.” You turn your head to meet his gaze. Blue crystal clear eyes meet your cloudy ones. You drop your head finding that your ankles are free from the spreader bar. “Bite it.”  He demands as he pushes half of the vibrator inside you. All your senses are lithe, your teeth bite the ball into half and the other half is gobbled up by your dom. He pulls out the vibrator with a swing, throwing it on the ground making you cum. The balls fall one by one making noise as they hit the wooden floor but none of you seem to care as his lips wrap yours. His hands involuntarily find their way toward the hoops of the handcuffs so as to unbuckle them as his kiss intensifies. Tongue making its way, lips alternatively sucking and biting as he lets your arms fall. You curl them around his nape reciprocating his kiss with the same intensity. He takes you into his lap, your legs wrapping around his torso and that is when he realises what he has done.

“Y/N.” He pants vigorously, taking a seat on the bed with you on the lap. “I should not have done that.” He immediately starts to untie the knots of the shibari. You rest your head against his chest as he frees you from the knots. Satoru’s ears are warm, burning even. He kissed you. He fucking kissed you. The one rule that he should not have broken. You adjust your face at an angle to have your lips near his ears before you whisper, “Where is my reward?”

“What?”

“My reward?” you say backing up a bit to meet his gaze and laying your hand in front of him. “My reward.” He is so confused right now. Of course, he has every right to be. 

When Satoru puts two plus two, he protests, “You dropped the balls. Technically, I have the right to fuck you. Like now.” Sure the idea of him being inside you is tempting but not as much as him realising he broke one crucial rule.

“That was after you asked me to bite the fruit, the ball, and then took the other half in your mouth and then started kissing me— he put his hand over your mouth seeing you speak in one breath. 

“Okay. okay. I get it.” He notices your hands. They are bruised, and so is your neck. Shame kicks in his body. He pulls up your top a bit and sees the marks of the knot as well as the ropes. He thought it was too tight. “You need a nice bath.” He lets you stand on your feet. There is a theory going on in his head. If you choose to ignore the kiss, the violation of rules then you may have secretly violated some other rules and if you are bothered by it, you will retort the second time or maybe not. There is one way to find out. Satoru roughly holds your chin brushing his thumb over your lips. You close your eyes caving into his touch. The way you close your eyes, feel his touch, bloom like a lotus to absorb him like sunlight makes him wanna kiss you, absorb you whole, invade you so deeply, fill every corner with his scent that you find it hard to breathe. 

“Can I kiss you now?”

You open your eyes, bite his thumb, suck at it, and then pull out with a pop, “No” exhaling a heavy breath. You turn on your feet and start to walk towards the exit feeling your heart crack at such sincere fruitless attraction. But Gojo Satoru is not someone who will let anyone walk out on him, even if it is you, his eve. He quickly catches up to you and takes you onto his lap so as to carry you toward the bathroom.

“Oh, good god. What gives? I can walk by myself.” You retort yet your hand curls around his nape. Your nails scratch his undercut as he carries you to the bathroom with a stoic expression. As you two reach the bathroom, you notice everything is already prepared. “I’ll come back in a few minutes.”

You discard your clothes as his footsteps fade away. He is not acting strange per se ignoring his act of affection was not a good idea after all. He created his own set of rules and broke one of them. He has every right to be the expectation of the rule he creates. After all, a priest who preaches purity is never pure; a god who gets punished is no god, either an abandoned god or the devil; Things always take the form of a cycle like a snake eating its tail. You do not get what was the reason behind his unacceptance of such an act. So, what if he kissed you? So, what if he likes you? It is not the end of the world. You are not going to punish him. Moreover, it will eventually pass. You hear Satoru humming on the other side of the curtain. He turns on the jazz music making you highly regret what you are going to say. It was a bad idea not to let him know beforehand via a text and you are neck-deep in trouble. You have never violated his terms or his personal space and so you have no idea how he would react if you were to do something to threaten his ideals, play with them.

Little did you know that you already did the day he walked into your tattoo parlour. 

“I need to talk to you,” Your voice gets buried under the jazz music along with the low hum of Satoru. He was standing near the sink washing his face, and hands. There is a set of clothes on the rack, perhaps for him. You are neck-deep in the bathtub. He has prepared everything for you, just the way you like it. Everything is as usual like any other weekend except your dom is not sitting by the bathtub, sparing an ear to your moonshine talks like he does. He is definitely avoiding you. The partition of curtains that separates the bathing area from the rest of the giant bathroom only permits you to see a hazy figure of your dom. You sit upright to lean against the bathtub. Clearing your throat you suggest the same idea again, louder this time. “Satoru, I need to talk to you.” 

From the hazy figure, you could conjecture that he was brushing his teeth. You waited until his response came trying to muster up courage and gather your thoughts. “Yeah, I’m listening,” Satoru responds from the other side of the veil.

“Can’t you just come here and sit with me? Like you usually do. . .” Even with the jazz music and the sound of running tap water, you could hear the click of his tongue, perhaps out of annoyance or perhaps out of repentance. Both are dangerous. Satoru feeling either of them is dangerous because a man like him ends up in a spiral of anger when those primal emotions leave the body, and stain the heart.

“I’d love to do that,” Satoru starts, closing the tap water, and putting the brush and toothpaste in their respective place. “But it's quite late and I’m hungry, so how about we talk while we eat? Plus, tomorrow I have an early morning.”

“It’s Sunday tomorrow.” You get out of the bathtub and stand just behind the partition. Satoru runs his middle finger upon his forehead from one temple to the other biting his bottom lip. He can not face you, not like this. He has violated the terms. He has violated himself, violated you — he has violated so many things. “It is. I know,” he mutters, voice full of haste. You see him walking towards the exit and something tells you it is now or never. So, you are really not bothered about the kiss at all.

“Satoru, I’m leaving.” You gulp as you watch the tall man turn around. So, you try to clarify your thoughts more and give them a voice. “I’m leaving Tokyo in two days. I got the scholarship for my Phd so . . .” There was a pin-drop silence between you and him. The edge of the curtain is now wet and wrinkled from your grip. You have faced many tense situations before but this one hit all the open, raw, unprotected parts of you. There was a sudden draw of curtains and when you looked up Satoru was standing holding the metal bar of the curtains, hovering above you. The lipstick marks along with the hickeys on the column of his throat are still there. He did not wash them. His eyes were assessing you, checking if you were playing some sort of prank to see if he gets worried about you. You have done it before, why not now? Many who came before tried some nasty tricks, broke some important rules, or found a loophole in certain rules that in turn violated others or used a safeword as an offensive one rather than a defensive measure. So, Satoru Gojo is used to this tactic. 

Nah, you are not lying. You have never lied to him, always been so honest to him that it made him uneasy at times. “And here I was thinking, where is the catch? After all, all perfect things come to an end.” 

“Okay, do you want me to help with that? Like packing or  . . .” His voice trailed off, so did his eyes. You wrapped the curtain around yourself doing a spin and nodded. He bit his inner lip holding his smile. “Okay. I’ll prepare dinner. Get dressed and dry yourself properly otherwise, you’ll catch a cold. ” He exclaimed, rubbing his thumb over your cheeks, eyes lingering over your lips momentarily. He leaves the bathroom as you watch him go.

You have always been afraid of him. Maybe because he was older than you or maybe it was because of his political connections, historical background, and the power that he holds at his fingertips. For instance, if he wanted he could cancel the scholarship, but he would not go that far would he? You were aware that you should have informed him earlier, at least a week ago but back then the results were not out. . . who are you consoling? What has already been done can never be undone, what has already been said can never be taken back— like an arrow shot in the forest. It is lost forever.

note: special thanks to my dearest cele aka Celestia ( @dearestgojo ) for constantly listening to my ideas, talking me through them, and beta-reading this when I finished it. I was so confused and worried about Satoru’s characterization here. She helped me a lot with that. I wouldn't have been able to write this fic without her help actually.

Whether this will turn into a series or stay like this alone depends on ya’ll. If I get a positive response I’ll consider posting the other parts after writing it. I don't have a very healthy experience of posting series works in Tumblr. Most of them are posted on my ao3. So, let's see what I have in the store.

also tagging @orchid3a @akiniku @semisgroupie @gojoest @lalunanymph

[i-draws-dinosaurs]

i was rewatching the rite of spring segment from fantasia and i've got to wonder. Why Did We Draw Archaeopteryx Like That. i remember toys having that same, boomerang arm shaped pose too. it's like a monkey lizard more than a bird.

Ooh okay this is a fun one cause while it technically is an Archaeopteryx and is listed as such in the production draft, I don't think the design is based on Archaeopteryx at all!

To me, this "Archaeopteryx" almost exactly resembles something else, the fascinating historical phenomenon called Proavis.

Proavis, or Tetrapteryx as some four-winged interpretations were called, was a hypothetical prehistoric creature that was proposed in the early 20th century as a best guess at what the unknown ancestor of birds could have looked like. The illustration above was drawn in 1926 by Gerhard Heilmann, a Danish artist and amateur scientist who argued that birds evolved from non-dinosaurian archosaurs like Euparkeria. In his 1916 book Vor Nuvaerende Viden om Fuglenes Afstamning and the 1926 English translation The Origin of Birds, he presented Proavis as the imagined midpoint between a scaly ground-running archosaur and Archaeopteryx, which at the time held the title of The First Bird.

Other versions of the same hypothesis, like William Beebe's Tetrapteryx above, were published and discussed around the same time, but it was Heilmann's Proavis that gained immense popularity to the point that bird evolution was considered essentially "solved" for decades. It was also painted by Zdeněk Burian, one of the Old Greats of palaeoart, which kept the concept alive in dinosaur books for decades as well.

Of course further study has shown this hypothesis to be incorrect and that birds are instead members of Dinosauria (and honestly Heilmann either missed or ignored a lot of evidence for a dinosaurian origin of birds even in the 1910s), but the Proavis to me remains a beautiful and fascinating concept that represents scientists and artists striving to understand the prehistoric world and the passage of evolution, much like we still do today!

And of course, its popularity in the early 20th century put it at the perfect time for Fantasia's artists to take... let's say heavy inspiration from Heilmann's imaginary Proavis when depicting a creature that was intended to be Archaeopteryx the whole time! The pattern of feathers matches up almost exactly, although the larger leg wings might have been inspired by Beebe's Tetrapteryx as well:

So to get back to your original question that led to this whole deep dive, artists didn't actually Draw Archaeopteryx Like That except when they were mistakenly drawing something that wasn't Archaeopteryx at all! If you want to read more about the Proavis and Tetrapteryx I recommend this Tetrapod Zoology blog post by Darren Naish, he does into more depth about the history of the concept and some of the unusual evolutionary ideas that Heilmann used to arrive at this weird and cool imaginary creature!

[thesassypadawan]

Cold Hands (Knight Anakin x FemKnightReader)

Summary: You’ve wanted to try this idea out with Anakin for a while. And either the timing was never right or you lost your nerve. But now… Cold hands…warm heart cunt.

Warnings: 18+ (minors dni), because of all the lovely smut. Fingering, cold hands, and Ani’s big dick.

A gasp escaped your lips while your back arched off the sleep couch. Every single touch that Anakin pressed into your skin sent shivers down your spine…and heat to your core.

“Annni!” You whined, wriggling beneath him. “Stop, your hands are cold!”

“Come on, angel; don’t be like that.” He chuckled, organic hand trailing down your neck. “I just want to warm up my hands a little.”

You let out a squeak as he cupped and squeezed your breast. Pinching and rolling your nipple until it hardened between his icy fingers. “Anakin!”

“Anakin, what?” He continued to tease, mechno hand now resting on your thigh. Rubbing ‘soothing’ circles with his thumb…more like making shivers run up and down your spine. “I’d do it for you if you asked me.”

“I said – ahh!” Organic hand had found its way to your cunt, chilled fingers brushing against your clit.

“What do you say? I promise to make it worth your while,” he muttered. Playing with you so casually, that damn smirk on his face.

“I-I…” You felt your resolve quickly fading away. Body ablaze with pleasure, mind abuzz with a very tempting, naughty thought. “Fine…you win.”

Ani’s eyes lit up, fingers sliding down and toying with your soaked entrance. “Thank you, hatari. You’re the-”

Before he could push into your welcoming heat though, you grabbed his wrist. “But…I have one condition.”

Biting your lip, you watched as he cocked his head to the side in confusion. You had wanted to try this idea for a while. And either the timing was never right or you simply just lost your nerve. But now… “Only your mechno hand gets to be ‘warmed up’.”

Both your gazes fell to aforementioned hand. “Are you sure?” He asked smugly; hand traveling further up your thigh, creeping closer to your cunt. “Think you can handle it?”

A wide grin spread across your face. “If I can take this…” And you gave his cock a good tug. “…then I can certainly manage that.”

He growled low, lips crashing against yours in a searing kiss. “That’s my girl.” Thrusting his metal finger inside of you.

Breaking the kiss, you moaned. The frigid digit making you clench, causing you to squirm. “Kriff, that’s cold!”

“Told you,” Anakin chuckled. Pumping in and out at a steady pace.

Ice clashed with flame. Cunt throbbing at the feeling, goosebumps forming on your skin. “More… Need more…” You begged; hips lifting, trying to gain more friction.

“More, huh?” Another finger slipped inside. Stretching and filling you so much. Your slick trickling down his hand and arm.

The pleasure is otherworldly, mind-numbing. Bucking against his digits, you meet each pump perfectly. While moaning endlessly. “Kriff…yes…kriff.”

“Riding my fingers so desperately…such a horny, little thing.” Putting your leg over his shoulder, Ani pushes your hips back down. “Bet you want another one.”

No words could explain how badly you craved him. How completely and utterly turned on you were by this whole situation. All you could manage to do was nod and mewl frantically, even as he pressed the third into your needy pussy. “Course you did. You love it when I stuff you.”

Stuffed, you felt so totally stuffed. Fingers pumping and curling, hitting that toe-curling spot deep inside of you. Thumb rubbing your clit in a perfect, circular motion.

“Want you to be good for me, angel.” You were getting closer to crashing over the edge. Every brush and tease of that tiny bundle of nerves drove you further. “Be my sweet girl and…cum.”

With one last hard thrust; he shoves all four fingers inside, thumb pushing firmly on your clit. Sending you spiraling, stars blinding your vison. Whole body clamping down, while you cry out over and over. Until you were left weak, gasping for air.

“That’s it…nice and warm,” Anakin sighed jokingly. Dragging his digits out of you slowly, he brought them to his lips. Licking sensually, tongue curling around and cleaning each individually.

Panting, chest rising and falling. Your body was trying to catch up with your brain, when he grabbed your face. “You know…my other hand is still cold.”

Your eyes widened, breath hitching. “No, Ani; absolutely not.”

“Come on, angel; don’t be like that.” He chuckled, organic hand trailing up your trembling thigh. “I’d do it for you if you asked me.”

You let out a loud moan as he slipped his cold finger into your hot cunt.

Tag List: @espinathena-17, @myheartwillgoon2022, @cacti5539, @wifeofasith, @princessswifie

[lizsos]

Hii. I know this is a weird request but could you do a non g!p Bada smut where Bada is a gynecologist and she fingers you with her rubber gloves on 🙈💋 and with her nurse outfit on 🫣

Hi anon! Thank you for your request <33

The Problem

▪︎warning : fingering , pet names , praise ,

▪︎Genre: smut

▪︎gynecologist : A gynecologist is a doctor who specializes in female reproductive health. They diagnose and treat issues related to the female reproductive tract.

If you were being honest , you always didn't have the satisfaction of finishing . Either if it was masturbation or sex in general. You tried hooking up with alot of people girl or boy and you had a lot of partners but it didn't change a thing .

So you thought the problem was you , you decided to go to a gynecologist to see whats wrong .

You were waiting for your turn in hall , as time passes the nurse comes out " miss y/n? " she said " ah , yes thats me " you said lifting up your hand .

"Please come in , its your turn" . You got up from your seat and went inside the room .

"Hello miss y/n , I'm Doctor Bada" you were completely caught off guard . SHE?! Was your doctor, if you didn't know she was your doctor you would've thought she wasa model or a celebrity, with her height, hair, face and body . Everything about her screamed famous.

But it was no time for you to fantasies about your doctor . "Nice to meet doctor" you said with a smile. She smiles in respond "shall we begin?" .

You sat in the bed and began to tell her whats wrong . "Hmm... did you ever use toys?" The question kind of embarrassed you , but you were here to see whats wrong so had to answer her . "No" you said shortly with a light blush in your cheeks .

Bada smirked , "miss y/n would you allow me to do something?". Seeing the look on her made you blush . "Of course" .

She comes closer to you , allowing herself to kiss softly down your neck . "Im guessing that your so called 'partners' didn't give you the right attention you deserve yeah?"

You whimper , thighs clenching , it was a wired feeling but you chruged it off . She sits on the bed and lifts you into her lap .

"Gonna make you feel so much better yeah?"

You breath out a moaning when she gently pries open your legs open . She opens the drawer next to her and takes out some rubber gloves and wears them . She begins rubbing lightly over your clit through your dampening panties . "Look at that already wet for me? Do you get this wet for your boyfriends to?" She says leaving small marks on your skin in the wake of her kisses .

She took her time to slide off your panties, middle finger swirling in your wetness making you whine .

"Patience, I'm getting to it ." When she began touching you , you felt something you've never felt before , something strong . "But I suppose that's a good sign right?" Bada asked you " y-yeah" .

"P-please h-hurry up " your hips automatically thrust into her hands desperate for something you don't know . Letting out a little mewl when she finally prods at your entrance . "Haah" your lips part in a moan when she buries two of her fingers into you , immediately curling them up to hit that spot you needed them to most .

"Faster" you moan loudly, back arching against her in a cry when she complies . Her thrusts becoming mean and hard as the rubber gloves are threatening to tear . Your hands grip at her board shoulders , mouth falling open in silent screams as her pace quickens even more .

Your stomach making you feel things you've never felt before , you felt it tighten . Your eyes rolled back , the sweet feeling in your inside gaining intensity as it shot up to your brain , your head getting fuzzy as you shook against her . The world around you going blank with the curl of your toes .

"F-fuckkk" you cry out as high pitched babble , tears welling in your eyes as you neared to realese . Bada holding you tight against her when your legs to involuntarily shut .

"Nope , girls like you gotta take it baby , you know you need to fucking take it " her whisper was so deep and husky , breath fanning over your ear as her thumb began to rub at your clit . "That's it my good girl"

Your noises only got louder as your legs trembled " fuck doctor, ahhh. 'M feeling strange" you let out a drawn cry as you cum .

A long clear stream sparying messily in front of you as she pulled away from your sopping hole . Using her palm to messily rub your clit as you continue to drench her thighs . "There you go... so fucking messy" she groans , turning your head to kiss you deeply as you shivered one last time , giving in to her lips against yours .

"I think your problem is solved" she said chuckling a bit as she took of her gloves and throwed them into the trash . You laughed along her as the two of you felt a connection and shared one last kiss .

[throneofsapphics]

let our bodies talk

Rowan x Reader x Ruhn

summary: Rowan and Ruhn help you deal with your guilt around sex, and take your virginity

warnings: virgin!reader, raw p in v (wrap it up everyone), religious guilt/shame, light hair pulling

word count: 3426

a/n: based on this request!

“Do you want us?” Ruhn finally asked, running a hand through his hair, the other toying with his lip ring. He pointedly ignored the silver-haired male staring at him like he wanted to chop him into bits and either sell them at the Meat Market or feed them to the creatures at the bottom of the Istros. 

Rowan had more patience and experience with immortality than he did. If you wanted him to wait another hundred years, he would, gladly, but he wanted to know what page you were on and he was ... well, he was used to having rather forward partners, he supposed. 

It started with him as an emissary to your world, and ended with this relationship he never could have expected, but would never change for a thing. You were everything he’d ever wanted and more. 

Your mouth parted, skin flushed, and eyes widened slightly. One of his favorite looks on you. “Of course,” the words came out quickly. Adorable. Everything about you was adorable. Cthona, he really was obsessed with you. “We’re together, aren't we?” You gained back a little bit of that attitude he loved. His mouth curved into a smirk. 

“Yes, love, we are.” 

“Ruhn is asking if you want to have sex with us,” Rowan grunted from behind you. You whirled around, not having seen him apparently. He shot you a slightly apologetic look. You were the only one who got those kinds of looks out of him, and it made Ruhn respect you even more. The male would bend over backwards for you. 

“I m- I mean yes, I do, I just ...” you trailed off uncharacteristically. 

Ruhn leaned forward in his chair, forearms bracing his thighs, Rowan rounded the couch to sit next to you, leaving a careful foot or so between the two of you. This conversation didn’t need touch, not right now at least. Ruhn stayed in his seat. Just talking about this, the idea of it, was making all sorts of unproductive changes to his blood flow. 

-

You sighed, glancing between the two of them. You wouldn’t get out of this conversation right now, at least not without them getting an acceptable answer. How do you even begin to explain your relationship with sex? When it's so complicated you barely feel like you understand it yourself? 

“Just listen to me, please,” you half pleaded, half ordered. They glanced at each other before turning to you and nodding. “I grew up with a lot of ... shame surrounding sex,” you could tell Ruhn was ready to interrupt and say fuck that, but Rowan fixed him with a look and although the male glared back he kept his mouth shut. Another time you might have laughed. “So as much as I fucking crave both of you, those thoughts are still trained into me. That its dirty, bad, against the gods wishes.” 

Rowan pressed his lips together at the last one, you knew it was ridiculous too - some of the gods were notoriously horny, after all. 

“So I'm a little ... behind because I avoided everything for so long.” 

“Are you a virgin?” Rowan asked, tone carefully neutral. If they cared either way ... well, then they wouldn’t be the males for you. 

“Yes,” you lifted your chin just a tad higher, trying to imbue yourself with some sort of confidence. 

“That’s not a problem for me,” Ruhn said, almost soothingly. 

“It shouldn’t be,” Rowan sent a warning look your way at the snip in your tone, and you glared right back at him. He held both hands up placatingly, almost in a ‘not policing you, I'm just trying to keep the peace,’ way. 

Ruhn caught your gaze, and you both burst into laughter, eyes lighting with mirth. Rowan snorted. Basically a roaring laugh coming from him. 

“Come here,” the unintentional dominance in Rowan’s voice bent your knees before you could think better of it. Not that you wanted to, not really. He patted the area next to him, giving you the option to close the distance. You did. 

You felt more than heard Ruhn move, as the couch dipped on your other side. You liked it here, pressed between them, your legs lining up from thigh to hip, just a few layers between your skin and theirs. The desire to remove the layers was there, but that old guilt crept in and tainted it. Your hand brushed the back of your neck, head tilting down, eyes trained on the floor. 

Ruhn caught your hand, bringing it down to rest on his thigh. You flexed your fingers, exploring the feel of the corded muscle beneath those jeans. His leg tensed, keeping hand settling over yours, keeping you still. 

“However long it takes,” he kissed the exposed side of your neck, “I'll teach you to not be ashamed of what your body wants.” 

“Of what you want,” Rowan added, running his thumb over your knee, his hand cupping your leg. 

“I want both of you,” you said the words quickly, as if they might never come out if you didn’t say them as fast as possible. 

“You’ll need to be a bit more specific than that,” Rowan’s eyes trailed you from head to toe, taking in every inch of your body. A hunger that you either hadn’t seen or noticed before flared. Tightness coiled in your stomach, you could arouse those kinds of feelings in them. You found you liked that power. 

“Relax, Rowan,” Ruhn drawled. The other male tensed. You smiled. “I think we can ask some questions, can’t we?” 

A muscle in Rowan’s jaw flexed, but he gave a short nod. 

Sometimes you wondered if you were the glue bonding them together, but they had a bond of their own outside of the one the three of you shared. Not sexual, but almost ... you couldn’t quite find a term to describe it. Maybe you’d invent one later. For now, they were capturing all of your attention. Questions. You knew what kind of questions they’d ask, but it didn’t leave you feeling any more prepared for it. 

“Has anyone touched this beautiful body before?” Ruhn breathed against your neck, his hand running down your thigh indolently. 

“You,” you said, a touch of something like defiance in your tone. One of them pinched your thighs lightly. Rowan. 

“It doesn’t work if you don’t answer our questions, love,” he said. 

“Not very well,” you sighed, throwing your head back to look up at the ceiling. Why did this have to feel so ... 

“These conversations aren’t meant to be smooth,” Ruhn reminded you. It gave you a bit of much-needed courage and you gave yourself a reminder. You loved these males, trusted them, and knew they’d never do anything to intentionally hurt you or make you feel upset. In fact, they’d usually do their best to make sure the opposite happened. 

“Did you like anything about their touch?” Rowan’s large hand covered part of your thigh, tips of his fingers digging in light enough to add a pleasurable pressure but avoid that edge of pain. Regardless, each of their touches felt like fire in your current wound up state and you doubted anything could douse it right now. 

“When it was over,” you said, honestly, and drew a laugh from each of them. 

“I promise you won’t want this to end,” Ruhn said. Tilting your head, blue eyes peered intently at you, full of heat and passion and desire. “I think we can figure out how to ask these questions without speaking,” he brushed the top of your thigh, playing with your hemline, “hm?” 

You arched towards him, hands reached out to grasp at his arms, tugging him closer, closer, closer, however you could get any contact with him. Something about his tone and words awoke a new desperation in you. The time for talking, for thinking, was over. 

Ruhn caught your hands. You frowned. He switched them to one of his and used the other to tilt your chin up. “If you want this to stop at any time, just say the word. Or tap a few times if you can’t speak.” 

“We won’t be angry or upset,” Rowan added. 

“If you were, I'd kick your asses. Before leaving them,” you grumbled.

Ruhn held his hands up. “I’m terrified,” he deadpanned. 

The pause gave space for ugly emotions to rear and infiltrate, invading your headspace. 

You heard the words of the priests and priestesses from your childhood, of your mother and father wondering what the hell you were doing before damning and cursing you. Doubt had no place in this room, but it found its way inside anyway. 

“I don’t think she wants this,” you heard Ruhn say, and your head snapped up. 

-

Ruhn hoped his gamble paid off and Rowan played along, that they could draw out your competitive side. 

Green eyes narrowed, but he said, “I’m afraid you may be right.” Rowan Whitethorn wasn’t afraid of a damn thing, but that wasn’t the point. 

“Yes I do,” you spluttered indignantly. That was the point.

“Show us,” Rowan challenged you. 

“I don’t know how,” your voice dropped to a furious whisper, and he wondered if you might call everything off. 

“Ask for help,” Rowan countered. 

“I thought we would do this without speaking,” Ruhn interjected. 

In unison, both you and Rowan replied, “that’s what you said,” and he bit back a grin. 

“One question then,” Rowan continued, “do you want us to fuck you tonight?” 

“Yes,” there was no hesitation, in fact eagerness in your tone. Bringing out your competitive side did work, and he noted that for later. 

“We’ll be gentle,” Rowan told you. 

You huffed. Ruhn titled his head, Rowan raised a brow at you. 

“I want you, not some watered down version of you - both of you.” 

“As you wish, my love,” Rowan murmured. 

“Your funeral,” Ruhn joked. 

“But I have one rule,” he sat up a little straighter at your words. 

“What is that?” 

“No magic,” you glanced between both males. “I just want you. Both of you.” 

-

“Very well,” Rowan acquiesced, not sounding too put out. “Come here,” he patted his thighs. After checking for Ruhn’s agreement to your ‘rule,’ you did. 

This part, this first step, you knew how to do. You’d kissed both of them before. Straddling him, you balanced yourself on the middle of his thighs. His fingers trailed up and down your sides, front, back, everywhere he could reach, brushing sensitive areas over your clothing. Brushing too lightly for how drastically your body seemed to react. Or maybe that was the point, less is more. 

‘Let go, stop thinking,’ you reminded and reprimanded yourself. 

It took you a minute or two to realize Rowan was waiting for something. For you to initiate. 

Leaning forward, you brushed your lips against his, mimicking the featherlight touches he was leaving on your body. Rowan wasn’t having it, and gripped the back of your head, winding his fingers through your hair before bringing you together. 

He stood, mouth still on yours, and you tightened your legs around his waist, locking your ankles, he wrapped one arm around your lower back, and snapped at Ruhn with his spare hand. 

The other male, understandably, snarled in return and you broke away from Rowan to hide your giggles into his shoulder. 

It broke the tension, and after a few strides from Rowan you were bouncing back on your bed, thrown there by him. Catching yourself against the headboard, it was your turn to glare. 

“That’s what you get for laughing,” Ruhn shrugged out of his shirt, and fuck your mouth watered. “My eyes are up here,” he teased you. 

“I thought we weren’t talking,” you snapped back. 

Not Ruhn, you could see all of him, but you felt another hand on the back of your neck. Rowan. Lips brushed against your ear, “I should just bend you over our bed and fuck you, but I think we can make it a little more enjoyable than that.” 

That sounded very enjoyable to you, and maybe scared you just a tad but not in an unpleasant way. Involuntarily, your thighs clenched. Ruhn’s chuckle told you he noticed. Heat seared your cheeks, the back of your neck, your chest. 

Half-naked, he climbed on the bed after you. Rowan stood next to the footboard, seemingly content to watch just for the moment. 

They seemed too coordinated and organized, in your opinion, and alarm bells flared in your mind and you scrambled with your hands to sit up. 

“Are you speaking to him?” You couldn’t fight the hint of accusation in your tone as you asked Ruhn.

“We’re making this enjoyable,” he pushed down lightly on your shoulders, “let us.” 

“Let go, love,” Rowan encouraged. 

You pursed your lips together in a frown, but nodded. You could let go, for tonight. Letting your hands slide out, your back hit the soft duvet cover again, the fabric silky against your skin. Relax. You were entirely capable of letting go. 

Ruhn’s lips hit your shoulder first, a soft and gentle kiss, before trailing down over your chest. The longer he went on, the firmer, you wouldn’t exactly call it rough, he got. Each touch grew more intense, his hands on your ribcage, pushing you down into the mattress as his lip ring flicked over your nipple. Teeth lightly grabbing the now swollen peak, tugging it up, drawing a gasp, before releasing. Testing how each part of your body reacted to different pressures and sensations. Learning you. 

He was good at this, you realized, with a hint of jealousy you quickly tamped down. Here and now, you reminded yourself. Focus. Capable. 

Lost in his touch, you didn’t notice the other male sliding in behind you until you were rising, your back pressed against his chest. Ruhn made a noise of discontent, like a kid with his candy taken away from him. 

“Ruhn’s going to fuck you first,” Rowan murmured in your ear, stroking down the side of your arm. “And when he’s done, I'll get to fuck that pretty little pussy, how does that sound?” 

“Great,” you barely managed to say. 

Then he was gone, out from behind you, and you were lowered onto the duvet again, head propped up on a pillow, Ruhn’s head between your - fuck. You lost all train of thought, all capability of thought as his tongue flicked your clit. Your voice left you as his lip ring, that beautiful thing, slid across your clit, a finger slipping inside and curling, putting just the right amount of pressure - and throwing you over the edge. 

Ruhn slowly worked you through your orgasm, adding another finger and twisting. You winced slightly at the stretching sensation. He stopped. 

“Just a little,” you panted, “uncomfortable. Keep going.” At the uncertain look on his face you added a, “please,” and that did the trick. 

He kept watching you intently, looking for every little change that might tell him something is wrong. But ... you didn’t feel the need to put on a performance. Instead, you found you liked the intensity he looked at you with. It made you feel wanted and desired in ways you never had before. It was bringing you to new highs. With another scream, your body melted into the mattress, legs falling limply to your sides. 

“I think she’s ready,” you heard Rowan. You nodded your agreement. Just a taste and you’d grown greedy, wanting more, more, more. All they would give you, all you could take. 

A belt clicked, clothes rustled, and you sat up on your elbows, impressed that even with the slight shake in your arms you could still hold yourself up. Maybe it was sheer determination to see Ruhn getting undressed that did it. It was certainly worth it. 

Licking your lips subconsciously at the sight of him, you realized he was pretty everywhere, including his cock. Near the same color as his skin, but with a glistening pink tip and a bulging vein running down the side, you wanted him in you. Now. 

“Get over here,” you breathed. 

“Bossy,” he said, raising his brows, but didn’t fucking move. 

Pressing your lips together, you saw a few avenues in front of you, and picked the one you figured would light a fire under him the best. 

“I guess I have to do it myself,” you sighed and let one arm slide out, snaking its way towards your center. 

It didn’t make it, not as Ruhn was there, catching your hand. “Not this time, princess.” 

His hand splayed against the backs of your thighs, pressing them up and to the sides as he knelt between your legs. 

“Breathe,” he ordered, and you’re glad you listened as he first pushed past your walls. Sharp pain hit your abdomen, catching your breath in your throat. 

An icy wind found its way down your throat, and you decided you’d thank Rowan, mentally, now and yell, verbally, at him later. 

“How are you feeling?” 

“Keep going,” you hissed through clenched teeth. You might’ve had a lot of ... conflicting feelings surrounding sex, but that didn’t mean you hadn’t educated yourself. All the bodice rippers told you that the pleasure would kick in soon, that before you knew it you’d be overwhelmed by the “feel good” hormones. Gods you hoped they were real. 

He moved, but slowly. Lifting your hips to switch the angle, you gasped as he hit somewhere deep inside of you. That felt good. 

“That’s the spot, then,” he murmured, more to himself. 

“Fuck you feel good,” you moaned, nails clawing at his shoulders, searching for some kind of grip or anything to hold on to. He chuckled and lowered himself just enough you could grab them, before his hands spread against your sides, gripping you firmly. 

“Remember what you said earlier,” he paused inside of you. You wanted to scream at him. Instead you were left looking at his dumbly, eyes blinking. “About not wanting a watered down version of us. You’re still sure?” 

“Yes I’m sure, just fuck me or I'll-”

You didn’t get a chance to finish your words as he moved again, tilting your hips to that perfect angle before driving into you, over and over again. 

Not quite rough, but certainly not gentle, whatever he was doing was absolutely perfect, and as his fingers found your clit, you had your third - or was it fourth? - orgasm of the night. 

You actually whined as he pulled out, his eyes still open and fixed on you. He hadn’t finished. A pout started forming. 

As if he read the words in your eyes, he said, “someone else has been waiting for their turn, I’m sharing you tonight princess,” and jerked his head to the side. You followed the motion, and Rowan stood there, looking at you with pure hunger in his eyes. 

You swallowed. Louder than you intended to. Ruhn moved off you. 

“On your knees,” Rowan said roughly, but didn’t give you a chance before he gripped your hips and flipped you. Squeaking, your hands scrambled and slid before you landed on your elbows. His hand twisted around your hair, not pulling but gripping and tilting your head to look at him. “I still want to see your face, but it’ll be easier for you this way.” 

Easier? Just then, you realized you hadn’t gotten a good look at him, but based on how Ruhn went first you could put together a few things. 

“Alright,” you breathed. 

There was no hesitation from either side as Rowan slid in you, your body both welcoming and protesting him, your hips and thighs already beginning to ache, but you wanted more. A greedy little monster had begun to bloom in you. 

Both of them just felt right, in different ways, and you - 

“Eyes on me,” Rowan snapped. Your eyes flew to him, and his mouth indented at one corner in the way the stoic smile. “I said I wanted to see your face, love.” 

His hands gripped your hips. 

“See your pretty little face as you take my cock so well.” 

The words drew a moan from you, sending pleasure from the tips of your fingers to the bottom of your toes, making you push yourself back on him. Green stared at you, unrelenting as each slow, hard thrust nearly bounced you off him 

“Look how perfectly you’ve opened up for me,” he sounded almost teasing, “just like you were made for me.” 

Maybe you were, made for both of them as they were for you. 

-

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[joshsindigostreak]

Moonburn

Chapter One

Nine of Swords, Upright: sleepless nights, worry and anxiety.

Vampire Hunter!Jake x Witch!OC

Authors Note: Hey y’all!! I hope everyone enjoys the next chapter in Jake’s story! Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! If you need to catch up on the Prologue, do so here.

*Set prior to the events of I See Hell in Your Eyes. This is the beginning of Jake’s story. This can be read independently from ISHIYE but there will be cross references as it’s in the same universe.

Word Count: 3.5K

Warnings: Not very many just some swearing.

Description: When a young affluent hunter finds himself taking an unexpected detour in Tucson, Arizona, he finds himself drawn to a local dive bar with a rather ecclectic clientele, situated on an equally intriguing location adjacent to a cemetery. Cemeteries are neutral ground, so even if he found a Vampire to snuff out, he couldn’t. Especially with the owner of the bar being a Witch and watching him like a hawk.

Jake’s dreams were always distinctly under two categories: either he’d find his dream self walking down an empty city street, head on a swivel for any Vampiric activity, trailing one he had found earlier that kept evading him. Or, he’d wake up in his childhood bedroom, realize that he was seven years old again, hearing footsteps in the hallway growing closer.

His mind would not let go of the night that Vampire broke in and found the twins’ room first on the upper floor. The Vampire’s appearance had morphed over the years, steadily gaining more grotesque. But the feeling of its mangled and dirty fingers tangling in his hair and violently pulling upwards, sending white hot pain into the boys’ scalp as his feet lifted off the ground, was always the same.

This night was no exception, and unfortunately for the young hunter it was the latter scenario.

A distant creak of the hardwood floors down the hallway always startles him awake. His large and curious brown eyes would always pop open at the sound, and he’d strain his ears to try to figure out who was walking towards his shared room with Josh. It couldn’t have been his little brother Sam; he was too light to make the floorboards move like that. Josh was snoring above him, oblivious to everything, so that ruled out him. Maybe his parents? But he could hear the heavy thuds of shoes as the sound got closer, and why would his parents have their shoes on in the middle of the night? The realization that it was someone else in the house besides his family made his blood run cold and had him pulling his covers up to his chin as he tried to make himself as small as possible on the bottom bunk.

A few agonizing minutes later, the footsteps were right outside his door, and his younger self was stiff as a board, bracing himself for whomever would enter. Sure enough, the doorknob would slowly twist and a stream of light from the hallway would stream in as the door opened. All he saw before he screwed his eyes shut was a large, intimidating silhouette peering into his room. Jake tried to keep his breathing even, not wanting to give it away that he was awake. The intruder made his way into their room, kicking a few toys out of the way in the process. He could feel their presence near his bed, and it took everything in him to not flinch at the putrid breath that was being exhaled into his face.

But Jake was a frightened child, and his instinct was to get to his brother as quickly as possible. When the creature whispered, “jackpot…” his eyes shot open and he opened his mouth to yell for his twin, all while trying to scramble down his bed and make it to the ladder leading up to Josh’s bunk. His tiny hand had just reached one of the bottom bars when the all too familiar sensation of fingers in his hair and being yanked backwards and upwards rattled his system. Distantly he would hear his brother startle awake and barely touching the ladder as he flew down to come to his rescue.

The creature paid Josh no mind while he lifted up the younger boy to his eye level, his mouth twisting into a sadistic smile and revealing the long jagged fangs that extended from his gums.

A Vampire had somehow broken into their extensively guarded house.

Jake kicked and squirmed midair, trying to get the Vampire to drop him, but it was no use. The creature stared into his eyes, hunger clearly on his mind. The young boy couldn’t take it anymore and as he clawed at the Vampire’s wrist he took a deep breath and released a shrill, high pitched shriek that rattled the-

The now adult Jake shot up in bed, silver knife white knuckled in his fist. Through his own personal training, he had taught himself how to sleep with his hand curled around a knife under his pillow, and not letting go of it until he was awake.

His skin was damp and clammy, feeling especially chilled from the ceiling fan spinning above. In spite of this sweat gathered on his hairline, threatening to spill down his face. His eyes darted around the room for any threats, as if he was ready to face off with the Vampire from his memory. But the hunter was alone in the tiny motel room, and when he deduced this he rolled out of bed, still holding the knife. He padded over to the sink in the miniscule kitchenette and poured a glass of water from the sink. He gulped it down but it took two more glasses to finally get some relief in his dry throat.

After setting the glass down and abandoning it next to the sink he went around the room to check his security measures. His crossbow lay still on the other side of the bed, with a wooden arrow locked and loaded, ready to be grabbed at a moment's notice. With Josh off doing whatever it was he was doing, the weapon was the closest thing he had to a partner in crime.

The solitary window was covered by curtains, and Jake carefully pulled back one of the panels to look out onto the parking lot. The sun was freshly risen, giving him solace in the fact that his ultimate threats were locked inside and away from the light. Sunrises had always been Jake’s favorite for this reason. His shoulders relaxed as he opened the curtains as far as he could, letting in as much natural light as possible. Now that he was awake and definitely not going back to sleep any time soon, he turned his attention to getting a shower and washing off nightmares as best he could.

~!~

It had been over four days now, and Jake still could not get his night at The Tipsy Tumbleweed out of his head. He went to other bars around town to kill time, but all of them were so basic to him. They were too loud, or the drinks sucked, or the TV’s weren’t on anything interesting, or the bartenders would try way too hard to flirt with him for better tips. He wanted to go back, he wanted to see her, he wanted to at least get her name.

But Jake was full of an unfamiliar feeling of intimidation he wasn’t used to. He couldn’t remember the last time he had walked into a situation where he wasn’t the top dog, even when surrounded by Damned corpses who were decades older than him. His exposure to other supernatural creatures was limited. Growing up the focus was so heavily on Vampire’s that he rarely took the time to learn much about others. He usually just relied on Sam to info dump about whatever creature he was obsessed with that month and he’d tuck any useful information into the back of his mind and kept on moving.

Sam’s best friend happened to be a Werewolf, which was a secret that all three Kiszka boys kept to themselves out of respect for Danny, who always seemed like a good kid regardless of his DNA. The twins were just glad that their little brother had finally made a true friend, which was something they always worried about given Sam’s nerdy and introverted nature. The change in Sam after that first summer with Danny was like night and day, and his confidence and ego hadn’t stopped growing since. It was a gift and a curse, Josh would say in exasperation.

Witches however? Jake hadn’t truly met one in person before. He knew of them, and had gotten a few lectures on how to watch out for them. His mother in particular emphasized that they were simply untrustworthy and never expounded beyond that. Once again his brother would fill in the blanks sometimes. He mentioned a few who had gone to his university but he wasn’t particularly close to them. That hadn’t stopped Josh from making cracks about Sam going to Hogwarts whenever he got the chance, or asking if he had any classes with Hermione. This usually resulted in the nearest object thrown in the oldest sibling's direction.

The most Jake knew about them was that they were definitely not human, and most had innate abilities that were passed down via genetics. Covens were a thing but not a requirement, and most were very secretive as to what they got up to. One thing Jake would never openly admit is when he was out of his depth on something, but he couldn’t just accept defeat like this and twiddle his thumbs until he could get out of town.

Which was why he was sitting in the parking lot of The Tipsy Tumbleweed, staring at the entrance from the drivers side of his shitty rental. He mulled over the vague threat she had given him days prior. She didn’t say he couldn’t come back…just that he couldn’t come back and pull any shit. He could do that. He could just walk in, sit down and be good. He could potentially apologize.

The hunter repeated these affirmations to himself as he walked inside, immediately greeted by the familiar music, the glow of the various neon signs, and the scowl of the owner of the bar he was standing in.

She was behind the bar, writing something in a notebook of hers on the bar top when those big hazel eyes looked up and locked onto him. It took a conscious effort on Jake’s part to not trip over his own feet under her gaze.

He settled on the bar stool directly in front of her without a word, and the two stared at each other wondering who would flinch first. Her hazel irises were all he could focus on, and he took the opportunity to map out the different ways the green blended into light brown.

“Are you going to behave tonight?”

“Is there any reason I shouldn’t?”

Her right eyebrow slowly raised, “not in my bar there isn’t.”

The hunter nodded at the Witch, falling back into silence.

She reached to her left and brought a low ball glass in front of her on the bar and her other hand grabbed a bottle of whiskey and poured about two fingers worth into the glass. It was the same order from that first night, this time untampered with.

“We’re going to try this again, but if you even look at Lou for too long I’ll physically toss you out myself.”

The hunter's eyes swiveled slightly to the right, his peripheral catching sight of the Vampire who was focused on the TV. Jake quickly snapped his eyes back to the bar owner’s,

“Got it,” he replied in an obedient tone that he rarely spoke in.

She nodded and replied, “Good. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some regulars to greet.”

The Witch turned on her heel and walked out from around the bar, passing behind Jake and making her way to one of the two-top tables towards the front of the bar. As she passed, a sweet yet earthy scent wafted around him. Was that her perfume? He pondered. Or was that just her?

He racked his brain as he tore his eyes away from the swing of her hips and turned back to his glass. Whiskey was always his go-to at bars, because no one could truly fuck it up, but in truth, he was a Pinot Noir guy. It started when he was a teenager and the only alcohol he could get his hands on was the wine in the basement. His parents collected bottles from their travels and had so many at this point that they never actually drank that Jake sneaking a bottle or two every so often went unnoticed. He quickly figured out what he liked so by the time he was actually of age it became his private staple.

Jake continued to fire off questions in his head as he outwardly minded his own business.

He was brought back to reality when a familiar young voice answered, “her name is Cecilia, by the way.”

Jake looked up and saw the young bartender named Stacey standing in front of him.

“How did you-”

Her eyes went wide once again, just like that first night, “oh shit I’m so sorry! Sometimes it's hard to differentiate people’s inner voices from their outer voices and it sounds like someone asked me something out loud and-”

Jake raised his hands slightly off the bar, palms facing outwards to show he wasn’t mad, “hey, you didn’t do anything wrong it’s ok.”

Her face relaxed slightly, but she was still clearly embarrassed, “Cecilia’s been helping me get better at it but I still fuck up some times.”

Jake looked at her with warm eyes, “I’m assuming that you heard me thinking about him,” he cocked his head in Lou’s direction, “and went off and told her the other night?”

She looked down at the bar top and fiddled with her fingers, “yeah…we’ve just never had any trouble in here before and Lou is just really special to us and I didn’t want anything to happen to him.”

Stacey kept her voice low, as to not let Lou hear her saying that he was special to her. However, it didn’t work and the Vampire kept facing the TV and he suppressed a small smile while his face turned pink.

“Well you don’t have to worry about me, I'm not going to mess with him.”

“I guess that truth serum worked,” she looked up, trying not to smile.

Now it was Jake’s turn to look embarrassed, “yeah…yeah it did.”

“Well she’s still letting you sit here so she can’t be too mad still.”

“I’m on thin ice but I promise I’m just here cause I like the place, that's all.”

Stacey looked down and saw that Jake’s glass was empty, “do you want another drink?”

Jake looked down at the glass, but decided to do something different tonight, “do you have a good Pinot here?”

She looked at him blankly, “wine?”

“Yes…”

“Umm…I think we have a few bottles in the back.” She turned and disappeared behind the Employee door.

Jake sat there softly tapping his thumbs on the edge of the bar, inwardly hating that he was making a fuss over something as arbitrary as a drink. It was another reason why he always fell back on his “usual.” He hated being “that guy” in situations.

After a few minutes the young bartender busted through the Employee door and nearly jogged over to Jake’s spot at the bar. It was clear she wasn’t used to using a corkscrew, but after cussing a little under her breath the cork popped from the bottle. She threw Jake a triumphant smile as she poured him a glass.

“Thank you, Stacey,” he said warmly.

“Any time,” she replied before leaving the bar area to ask if anyone else needed refills or new drinks around the bar.

He studied the glass closely, grasping it by the stem and tilting it to the side and then back again to see what kind of legs it had before bringing it to his nose to see what flavors he could pick up. The alcohol itself was pretty strong, but he had had worse. It was medium bodied, with tannins that weren’t too overpowering due to the bright acidity from the-

“Are you detecting the grapes?”

A silky voice startled him and his eyes left the glass to look in front of him. It was Cecilia. His face reddened slightly, again, but her face broke into a smile as she wrote some figures down in the notebook she had placed on the bar.

“Oh umm-”

“Relax, I’m just fucking with you,” her smile stayed fixed on her face and Jake felt his shoulders relax. He hadn’t even realized how tense they had been. “You’re the first customer to order any of the wine we have, by the way.”

“I imagine people aren’t really thirsty for wine right off the highway,” the hunter said as he took his first sip. Oh, that’s not too bad, he thought, surprised at the texture and flavor of the wine.

The Witch nodded, “yeah people are more interested in their usual beers or liquor. You know the whole, ‘candy is dandy but liquor is quicker’ mentality.”

The corners of Jake’s mouth almost turned into a smile, “my brother likes to say that a lot.”

Cecilia’s eyebrows raised in curiosity, “you have a brother?”

Jake nodded, “three, actually. Two are biologically siblings and the other one we all kind of adopted over the years. He’s a good kid.”

She smiled, “oh that’s nice. Are they all hunters too?”

“Only one of them is; Josh.”

“Is he older or-?”

Jake grimaced slightly, “well…older…by five minutes. The other two are younger than me.”

Her lips formed an O, “so you’re a middle child? I can see that with you.”

Had it been anyone else, Jake would’ve gotten offended by that, but he let it slide for Cecilia.

“Only technically.”

“I can’t relate, I just have a little sister, Astrid. Or Ass-strid as I called her growing up.”

At this point they were both smiling softly at each other.

“What’s she like?” Jake asked before taking another sip of wine.

The Witch started to roll her eyes but stopped, “oh she’s the picture perfect Witch my mother always wanted, except that neither one of us inherited Moms psychic abilities. Astrid can enter people’s dreams, which was so fun growing up.” This time Cecilia let herself complete the eyeroll.

Jake’s eyes softened as he looked at her, the question clear in his expression.

“As for me, I do this…,” her eyes swiveled down towards Lou, who was once again minding his own business. His usual glass sat idly as he paid attention to the commercial on the TV, and immediately slid down the bar towards the Witch like a hockey puck, directly into her curled hand.

Lou was unimpressed and let out a short, “hey,” towards her and she sent the glass back, not spilling a drop.

Jake had never seen a telekinetic in person before, and sat there dumbfounded.

“Wow…” was all he could say.

She shrugged, “I can also read Tarot pretty well.”

Something inside the hunter was very interested in it all. Witches were something that weren’t brought up a lot, and when they were it was never in a positive light. He was mainly taught to focus on the Undead more than any other creature.

“...and your mom?”

Cecilia leaned in towards the hunter, closer than she had been before and whispered, “my mom talks to dead people.”

Jake blinked at her.

“She heads a Necromancy coven in Northern California where I grew up,” the Witch leaned back towards her side of the bar, “it's not as exciting as you think.”

He wanted to ask more questions, but the way Cecilia’s expression soured at the mention of her mother gave him enough of a hint to drop that part of the subject.

“How did you end up in Arizona?”

This time, her eyes softened wistfully, “my dad was from here.”

The word ‘was’ stuck out to him.

“Oh yeah?”

She nodded, “yeah.”

The two stared at each other, allowing the silence to wash over them. Jake swallowed the last of his wine, and before he could open his mouth another question was thrown his way.

“I just realized I am a terrible bar owner and have been talking to you this whole time without getting your actual name?”

Jake smirked, his eyes staring into hers, and slowly extended his hand over the bar, “Jake Kiszka, hunter of the Undead and at your service.”

The Witch held out her hand and wrapped it around his to shake. The warmth of his skin rippled up her own arm, over her shoulder and down her back, settling at the base of her spine

“I hope you don’t tell your baristas that,” she retorted with a crinkle in her nose, “Cecilia Addington, bar owner with First Born Daughter problems.”

Jake never wanted to let go of her hand. The firm grip of her fingers and the softness of her skin had his head spinning.

He wanted to know if all of her skin was just as soft.

Reluctantly, they both dropped their hands at the same time each taking a second to flex their hands under the bar out of each other's sight.

Jake was the one to speak first, “so how does-“

“No more questions until you buy another drink, Jake.”

The butterflies from sixth grade swarmed in his gut at the sound of her saying his name.

She turned her head and gave Stacey a Look and a nod towards the hunter, before giving Jake one last smile before slinking around the bar to greet a few patrons that had just walked through the door. Jake watched her the whole time, listening to the volume of her voice and appreciating the fact that she was a hugger just like he was. Fuck.

It was going to be a long night.

To be continued….

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[neon-virus]

Now ramble shall be under the cut since this also touches on stuff that will be relevant for my fic so, spoilers maybe?? (Also i am no expert in making stuff sensical, so this is mostly shiet ive slapped together thats sitting in my brain)

also excuse any errors, english is hard :D

SO! the crowns.

I've made a lil sketch comic about Shamura and Nari talking briefly and Shamura referring to them as 'beasts'. I like to think that's what they are, parasitic like beasts.

They require strong willpower to withstand their influence. The crowns cannot do anything without someone to wield them, but if that person cannot resist the influence the crowns exert, then they will start to lose themselves to the crown.

The process depends. If the person is of weak mind, then they could become instantly consumed by it the moment it touches their brow. They would no longer be who they once were as the crown infects them in entirety and claims them for its own, eating their essence and making them effectively a shell for its own control.

Of course, these 'bodies' can still die, and once the crown no longer has its host, it becomes inactive.

But if you have a strong will, it comes down to a fierce endurance match, where the crown will try its damnest to break past your mental walls, to weasel its way in until you either give up or the crown submits.

Once submitted, it will effectively be 'inactive' in trying to influence the host, becoming a tool to be used and melded to its host's will. However, suppose that the host falls into a low point or has a grave vulnerability. In that case, the crowns will become active again, seeing their host is becoming weak and thus a perfect opportunity to influence and gain control.

For the bishops, this wasn't much of a problem outside of the initial wearing, at least until Nari started to question. Although Narinder is a very strong-willed person, the red crown still whispers to him, influencing his thoughts in the background and encouraging him until he ends up in his predicament of being imprisoned and leaving the bishops injured and vulnerable themselves.

Though the crowns can be given to others in smaller capacities or abilities granted to others, such as appointing them a vessel, they typically gain access to what is deemed necessary for use and not much else after that.

However, lamb was a bit different. Due to Nari knowing about the prophecy and the lamb showing absolute devotion, he gave her more access than she should have had and gave the crown room to sink its teeth in.

Granted, the crown quite likes lamb, almost imprinting onto her from her sheer strength of will and determination for revenge. It sought no reason to take control or try to as she did what it would have wanted her to do most of the time anyway.

So much so that it gave her a bit of help after Nari 'promised' her the prize she wanted, and the crown placed them into a pact. (That will be its own ramble later.)

and if she hadn't rejected Nari herself, the crown would have tried to make her reject him in her vulnerable state.

Now that he resides in the cult, the crown more or less is her's 100%, no shared control. And now that it has a new host, it no longer needs its old one, for what use is a gross chewed up toy to a beast when there's a fresh one to bite?

It still wants control—it's still a beast in a cage—but it's more willing to let her do as she pleases. It waited with Nari for over a thousand years, and it's waiting who knows how long more for the new host to eventually give in. It's very patient.

Also, when a host becomes infected with the crown's influence, their behavior tends to become strange.

Bursts of anger, erratic behavior, thoughts being replaced with what the crown wants you to think, and hallucinations, both visual and auditorial, are the general baseline for the start of an infection of the host, with other symptoms varying from host to host

[satocidal]

hi I hope you’ve been doing well <3 could you possibly write Gojo making female reader! cry during s^x and her using her safeword? basically the aftermath of that as well. tysm 🫶🫶

𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ 𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳“Careful There!” — Gojo Satoru

Synopsis:- You should’ve known better than to tease him—I mean, I don’t blame you but I don’t blame him either; so now you’re all tied up for him, and his pleasure alone. He’ll push you right over the edge—slowly, but just as carefully, he’ll bring you back too.

— word count: 2.6k

— An: Heavily, like heavily inspired from this thing I heard once💀 I mean, yk. I can’t even find it now but like core memory lmao. And also because mean Gojo is an all time favourite of mine so- sorry not sorry. Hope you like it Anon baby<3 also like it’s very stretched out and the build up is sort of a lot? The main shit is at the end so lol💀

— Tw: !MDNI!AFAB!Reader; Porn without much plot; degradation (reader gets called whore, slut, etc); implied sub-dom dynamic; impact play (like three(?) pussy slaps; spanking); hair pulling; praise; use of safe-word; Mean Gojo+ Soft Gojo; mentions of filming/pornography; mentions of Nanami; All characters are of age; use of sex toys; crying (reader cries; use age of “sir” when referring to gojo; feminine nicknames used.

You knew you shouldn’t have, you knew it everytime and yet no amount of warnings would ever be enough for you to learn- would it?

That’s how he saw it, he loved it, oh Satoru loved it oh, so much, perhaps beyond compare, when you went out of your way to tease him —but sometimes, just sometimes you got out of hands. That gentle teasing wasn’t gentle— the dirty little whispers were all too loud, the back talk was entirely rude and his reputation was often ruined.

Satoru barely cared though, most of the time, he didn’t at all for you were all that mattered to him and he, to you.

But there’s only so much a man of his temperament can take, only so much even the strongest can endure—especially if you go out, a smirk plastered on your face as you wear the smallest- skimpiest piece of clothing in your closet—the one he bought for you and then ignore him all day while you chatted away with his colleagues—With Nanami.

Arms pressed together in front of you, you bent a little too well—cleavage so deliciously evident, Satoru watched you then, an amused smirk adoring his lips—you continued making aimless conversation with the younger blonde, loving just the effect you had on him—loving just how uneasy you were able to make him with a small pout of your glossed lips and movement just to inch closer to him.

He watched still as you bounced away to seat yourself next to Kento during lunch, fingers playing with your hair as you batted your eyes at him—Satoru only watched.

He wouldn’t ever be described as a jealous man, after all, but cruel? That could find its way a couple of times.

So, He watched still as you got on your tip toes to kiss Kento’s cheek to greet him good-bye and he watched as you winked at random strangers in the street, aware all too well that with Satoru looking beside you, not a single soul would even dare to walk your way.

But then he watched still as you whimpered, his fingers grasping your hips a little too roughly- a bruise sure to be found the next morning while he lead you through the street to his house—he watched pleasantly still as your face contorted, another whimper ready to befall your mouth as he pushed you onto the couch.

“Bend,” his voice, a command and you knew everything that was coming.

There is a time for everything and you had gained experience enough to realise that being a brat was not the perfect time when Satoru lost his smile around you—and yet, a brat remains a brat.

You grinned and you raise a brow—“No,” your lips spelled out—and that was quite literally all it took before his massive form towered on you, eyes a tad bit darker than the usual.

His brows raised now— “We can do it my way or your way,” his voice was stable, “just know that neither is going to be easy for you.”

A lip bite, eyes averted- he watched patiently as he’d done all day—and a moment later you found yourself bending over the arm rest.

“The silly brain of yours is actually working Hm?” It was rhetoric, but obvious and yet you had fought each urge of yours to mutter a “more capable than yours.”

The issue lay with the fact that you fought and fought and lost, finally muttering it a second later with a grin on your face—Satoru loved it.

No words escaped him this time, rough hands working fast to push your head deep into the couch, raising your hips to get better access—spreading your legs to shame you a little too much.

“Tell me,” he mused, smirk all too evident, “if I inspect your pussy right now—will i find it wet?”

You had also learnt over the years of dating him that there was no right answer to this question—not even silence.

“No,” you lied instantly, curious to where that would lead you—he hummed, fingers just then prodding deep at your panties—soaked.

Squelch!- the room was so quiet, the sound so prominent, Satoru couldn’t help but smile wide—“Let me rephrase, how soaked would it be?”

Your face burned at that instant, eyes shying away to even look up at his shadow—“He got you wet doll?” His voice deep- fingers teasing your entrance through the material of your wet panties, “You’re so easy as to get this wet by him? And he didn’t even reciprocate your advances baby,” his words were mean, fingers meaner in the way they avoided your clit- in the way they avoided touching you just how you wanted.

“It’s not fair is it?” You could feel him squat down—face right at your panty-clad pussy, breath hot, teasing—“you tried so hard, he probably wanted to fuck you there on the table when you bounced your tits for him—” his other hand just then grasped your thigh, spreading you all the more for him—“but yaknow’,” his fingers landed a quick slap on your cunt—“I’m generous right? Maybe I should film you tonight yeah? Make the prettiest little videos and share it to him—oh, why just him? I could show my pretty whore around to everyone,”—another slap—“That’s what she likes right?”

He couldn’t see you, sure, but he knew you all too well, he knew your teeth were clamping down hard on your lips, your tight little hole clenching and moans begging to be let out.

You heard him hum again, “I don’t think you can take me tonight doll,” your eyes widened—“Toru’ please!” Another slap—sharper.

You let out a groan—“I’m sorry sir,” you instantly mumbled, “Please please please, I can take you, gonna take you so well—wanna be your-”

“-Fuck toy?” He interrupted your rambling, “Wanna be my plaything? My pet?”

You nodded immediately, then and there—any and every ounce of shame having left already—“Beg,” he got up from behind you—walking painfully slow as he admired the view of your upturned ass—“Beg just like I’ve taught my pretty slut.”

And that was your cue, body lifting off the arm rest, not even daring to pull down that tight fabric of your skirt to compose yourself—just falling on your knees instantly—Satoru manspreads all the time, an invitation to do the obvious—but you just find it 10 times hotter when he’s mad at you.

You crawled in between his legs—hands reaching up to undo his pant—to beg properly—your fingers fumbled around the button when—“Did i say you could do that?” His voice was sharp, condescending.

Your eyes widened, hands retracing their path immediately—“Sorry sir,” you muttered under your breath—he sighed.

“You’re never gonna learn, are you? Never gonna realise your place Hm?” He leaned towards you, fingers gripping your jaw, squeezing your cheeks together—“Whores are dumb right? You’re a dumb whore right?” You couldn’t help but nod helplessly, eyes boring into him.

He chuckled at that, faux—“Do it, like I’ve taught you to,” every word was punctuated by his foot judging your thighs, “Yes sir,” your whimpered.

And just like that, you found yourself raising yourself just close enough his clothed crotch, Palms rubbing at his hard-on, “Use yourself in the right manner,” you heard him say and you sighed, it would in fact prove to be a long night.

Your face found itself moving close to his crotch, his musky scent registering inside you well, a scent you loved—all together, you could feel his fingers grip your hair gently, pressing your face roughly at his crotch. You couldn’t help but gag- your body itself trying to back off as your nose filled in with his scent, and it got harder to breathe.

You heard him ‘tsk’ at your attempt and his hand pulled your head roughly away from him—“What have I told you doll?” He sounded like a disappointed guardian with his tone, “You can gag all you want, cry too, but never back away yeah?”

You nodded, remembering his instructions well, “Sorry,” you muttered and he shook his head- “Let’s do it again yeah?”

His voice was so gentle, so opposed to how he was in the moment as he bucked his hips into your face, tears lining your eyes as you did your best to keep your face pressed to his crotch.

“Good slut,” he finally muttered, as he let you back away slowly, “This what you wanted to do to him yeah?”

“No,” you shook your head quick, “Never.”

He scoffed—“get up,” he prompted- watching lazily as you scampered around him, “To the bed and I wanted you naked and in position,” it wasn’t anything new- you’d heard him say it all the time but just the way this time he didn’t smile, just the way it wasn’t a text either, just something about everything told you that it would be a different night.

———

Your teeth bit down on your lips hard—the pressure building on your cunt slowly, ever so slowly, it ached.

“Toru’” you whined—a sharp sting—your head tilted to the side while your cheek beared redness form his slap, face scrunching in pain.

“Sorry,” you mumbled—voice barely audible—you lay there on all fours, naked, ass raised in all its glory—red and marked with his handprints—his.

“And I dared to think I've taught you better doll,” his teeth were gritted, jaw clenched as his hands pumped his own cock slowly—savouring your sight.

“Such a needy cumslut you've proved to be hm? Just begging for attention— can't even take my name right,” another sharp slapped he landed, grabbing and squeezing your ass roughly—“so wet and messy when I haven’t even used my damn cock,”

You could only groan as the slow buzz of the vibrator in your cunt increased.

“Sir please,” you begged, “Pleasepleasepleaseplease wanna cum so bad I’m so close,” all falling to deaf ears as he did nothing but squeeze your ass.

No words—before you could even realise what was happening you felt his fingers spreading your folds—so pink and puffy and pretty, he sighed at the sight.

Your shame and embarrassment only grew as he got close, nostrils inhaling your scent and he spat on your slit—“Don’t even need it, do you?” He voiced our loud—“Greedy little slut.”

You couldn’t help but let out a high pitched gasp the moment his tongue contacted with your clit right after his words—your back arched, tears streaming down your puffy cheeks as you tried holding onto your release.

“Gonna cum sir—please,” your voice was shaky now, the feeling was overwhelming, and you knew you were approaching your limit.

But not yet- you could take more, right? And so Satoru continued, tongue lapping onto every last corner of your folds—the vibrator long forgotten and removed.

“You cum tonight without my permission and this whorehole of a pussy you’ve got will not milk me anytime soon yeah princess?” He’d pulled you up now, closer—sweat and tension heavy in the air as he grasped onto your throat and pressed your back to his chest.

You wanted to shout no, you wanted to say you’d be his good girl but in the way his fingers bullied your pussy—his cock had not even touched you yet—the angry tip leaking Precum—in these ways you could only babble.

Soft moans and whispers of his name leaving your mouth, head almost empty of all thoughts.

He didn’t seem to notice yet—not for a while, you already had shifted though, slowly losing control over your body.

“Turn,” he prompted—you complied accordingly, dying to be validated, dying to hear him call you his good girl.

He pushed you into your back instantly—your eyes were still puffy, tears and drool marking your face—“such a needy, filthy one you are huh?” His voice was meaner now—your eyes, dazed.

“I could replace you, you know,” in an instant—too mean—what did he mean? Your thoughts spring fast—replace you?

“I’d have a million people lining up you know, far fucking better at this,” tears lined your eyes again, not of pleasure or pain this time—hurt.

Your thoughts ran wild—had you been that rude to him? You wondered as much as your tiny fucked out mind could manage—was he really angry at you?

“No,” you whimpered—his cock lined up at your entrance finally—and just as you were getting what you’d care we all day, you didn’t want it.

Not anymore.

But you hadn’t said it yet- not your safe word—Satoru continued, his vok pushing deep into you.

Your eyes rolled back, fingers clutching onto the bed sheets beneath you as you but your lip—“Toru!—Fuck, s’much, wait,” your pleas seemed empty, hollow.

He thrusted in again, deep—almost pulling out before coating his cock with your slick and pushing in deeper—you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Red!” You screamed—his eyes widened, pulling out of you instantly, guilt all too evident.

Silence crept in slowly, for a good minute only the buzz of the forgotten vibrator sounded in the room.

Satoru held your form close, palms sweaty and clammy, the scent of sex heavy in the air—“You alright doll?”

You shook your head, his heart sank.

“Shit,” he began, “I’m sorry I didn’t- I didn’t notice-”

“-would you actually replace me?” Your voice was small—eyes wide as you gazed up at him.

His brows furrowed as he looked down at you—“what?”

Confused—until it came crashing down—“Of course not princess,” he smiled, hands stroking your hair, “You’re my only one you know that right? Only one.”

His voice was firm—eyes scanning for any bruises that may make you uncomfortable as he kissed your forehead—“Anything I say during sex is highly superficial ok?”

You nodded—he chuckled, “I’m sorry,” he paused, “did I get too rude? Mean? Did I hurt you?”

You shook your head again, earnestly, “You couldn’t,” he smiled, “sorry,” he mumbled again, softer against your skin.

“S’fine,” you mumbled back—“let me get you cleaned up?” His eyes gazed at you—“unless you wanna…?” A mischievous smile played at his lips—“still haven’t given my princess her climax, have I?”

You giggled—you loved him.

“I’ll take that as a yes alright?” He giggled this time as he fared his hand through your hair, “you’re the prettiest and the best girl you know?”

You smiled, so did he.

“And I’m so proud of you too,” he continued, laying you with your back on the bed, “Such a brave little doll yeah? My doll.”

And let’s just say if he didn’t get you to cum instantly on his fingers, with all that praise you’d have done it anyways.

All of this work is entirely original and my own—please refrain from copying or reposting.

Likes and Reblogs highly appreciated!

[ihavenointerestinreallife]

Lavender sprays and soft, plush pillows – some of the many things you were grateful to have to guide you to sleep. On nights where it was easy to fall asleep you wondered if maybe you were thankful for the long days that lead up to it, if maybe being on your feet all day helped to coax you into that blissful state. You couldn’t sleep in any setting but the cold and dark, and the smell of gentle lavender lulled you quicker.

This was a routine you’d gone through for years, wake up in the morning and then yearn for the moment you could do it again. It was almost like a daily chore, though this one was enjoyable. There were no thoughts that made it hard to relax, no anxiety to make you restless.

Were.

This new anxious feeling crept up on you faster than you could fight back. No amount of medications would have prepared you for sleepless nights you spent staring at the ceiling, wishing for some sort of release from whatever had been bestowed upon you.

When you could sleep, it didn’t last long, as you awoke mainly after an hour or two. With the newfound anxiety came sleep paralysis, the inability to move and speak were the most common things you experienced. It became almost a routine on the nights you found yourself graced with any amount of slumber – wake up and count down the minutes until the invisible forces set you free.

Those were really the only symptoms you experienced, you could notice the pale moonlight spill into your room as if your blackout curtains had no power anymore. Your senses were wide awake but it felt as if they couldn’t work on their own. You were trapped in your own body, helpless.

And maybe that was what lured this demon, sleep paralysis demon as some called it, to your room at night. It started off standing in the corner of your room, seemingly watching you. It didn’t really terrify you that much as your mind was exhausted from lack of sleep – in fact it intrigued you, wondering if this was the cause of the invisible arms that held you down.

A few nights of staring at you from the corner of your room turned into hovering over your helpless body in bed. It’s eyes scanned over your figure, taking in every inch of exposed skin that the sheets didn’t cover. Almost every night now had turned into sleep paralysis, you wondered if this was its cause.

Then it’d begin to touch you, softly moving the sheets down to run its ghostly fingers across your thighs, all the while keeping complete eye contact with you. Occasionally, you’d gain control of one of your senses- eyes being able to shyly try to fight back the eye contact only to be forced back to it, or soft sighs escaping your lips from either want or fear of its ministrations.

You felt odd for enjoying it, borderline disgusted with yourself for craving when its fingers danced along your inner thighs. And as if it could read your mind, its voice would urge you to “give in, I’m only here to help you.”

Who were you to deny when it would finally dip cold fingers into the warmth of your cunt, finally allowing you to completely gain back your senses and squirm in its grasp. The demon’s figure knelt down on the side of your bed, one hand pressing down on your abdomen while the other worked to get you off. It was rough with you, causing moans to spill past your lips uncontrollably.

When you’d finally cum, it made you ask for permission, those cold fingers would slip into your mouth and force your tongue to lick them clean. Your face and body were completely flushed, but the way it’d treat you only had you wanting more.

When it's morphed cock would stretch your tiny cunt open you reflected on the situation you got yourself in. How you slept like a baby at first, lost that ability and then ended up the sex toy of a ghastly sleep demon. Even moreso, how you enjoyed when it would grab your throat in its clawed grasp and bruise your skin, falling prey to the predator on top of you.

Some nights it would fully take advantage of your state, taking away your complete control over your senses and fucking you raw over and over. Tears freely spilled from your eyes as it ripped orgasms from you, and instead of feeling guilty it’d laugh it’s demonic laughter and tell you how much of a good human pet you were.

When it was done with you it told you how it’d be back the next night, promising to watch you throughout the day while it hid in the ether. Only at night did it gain its complete control over you again.

Eventually, you’d come to enjoy sleepless nights.