#that's for me to know and you to judge :P

[cameronsbabydoll]

Could you please write rafe doing hole inspections with puppy!reader? She’s all whiny and sniffling the whole way through till he puts his fingers inside and then she starts enjoying it <3

hole inspections ૮ ⸝⸝っ·̫ •⸝⸝ ྀིა

rafe cameron x puppy!reader

warnings: fingering, degradation, puppy play dynamics, power imbalance, mdni 18+

a/n: divider credits: @bernardsbendystraws

you’re kneeling on the floor of rafe’s bedroom, your hands fidgeting in your lap, the little bell on your collar jingling softly as you shift. your cheeks are already flushed, eyes glassy with unshed tears, because you know what’s coming. “c’mon, pup, you know the drill,” rafe says, his voice low and rough, sitting back in his chair like he owns the world. he does, in your eyes, and you’re desperate to please him, even if this part always makes you squirm.

“p-please, rafe, do we have to?” you whine, your voice small, sniffling as you look up at him with big, pleading eyes. you hate hole inspections—they’re so embarrassing, the way he makes you spread yourself open while he stares, all cold and judging. you tug at the hem of your oversized sweater, wishing you could hide.

“yeah, we do,” he snaps, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. ���bad puppies don’t get to skip this. gotta make sure you’re clean and ready for me. up, now.” his tone leaves no room for arguing, so you whimper, slowly getting onto all fours, your face burning as you turn around and lower your chest to the floor, lifting your hips.

you’re sniffling harder now, tears dripping onto the carpet as he kneels behind you, his hands rough as he spreads you open. “fuckin’ pathetic, crying already,” he mutters, and you flinch at his words, the humiliation stinging worse than anything. he’s clinical about it, inspecting you like you’re just his pet, his fingers brushing over you without any warmth. “stay still,” he growls when you squirm, and you bite your lip, trying to be good, trying not to sob louder.

then his fingers slide inside, slow and deliberate, and your breath hitches. the shame starts to melt, replaced by a warm, tingling rush that makes your whines turn soft and needy. you push back against him, just a little, and he chuckles, dark and low. “there’s my good puppy,” he says, his voice finally softening as he curls his fingers, making you gasp. “see? not so bad when you behave.” you nod, sniffling but melting into his touch, the bell on your collar chiming as you surrender to the feeling, desperate for his praise.

[icanseethefuture333]

PAC: Guided messages from Aphrodite 🫧🌷🐚🩰🕊️

Pile 1:

Shufflemancy -

Equally Lost by Tove Lo ft. Doja Cat

If Only by Raveena

Magic Hour by Jhené Aiko

Child: Wounded, Judge, Student, Eight of Wands, Five of Pentacles, Justice, Trust (reversed), Envy, & Change

"Sweet child, my flower child - You have been a kind and gentle soul ever since you were young. You are deeply empathetic to the world surrounding you, but in return, it has treated you with judgment. Please learn to forgive those who rejected your heart and beautiful personality, people are fearful of the unknown and what's unfamiliar. Your unique beauty is valuable and the right person, or people, will come along to cherish that. You have lost faith in me, the universe, and yourself, you let your insecurities cloud your intuition. You don't know who to trust or who to believe in anymore, every person you turned to for guidance, has let you down. You are wondering if this is just a cruel game that the universe is playing, but my dear, it is important that you learn and grow from these lessons in life. For life has its flaws and also its wonders. It is a terrible feeling, but I can assure you, that the only way to overcome these challenges is to stay motivated and hope for change. You are highly intelligent and noble, use that to your advantage. Work on being brave again and lean into your talents. I know you also miss that person from your past and you feel very lonely without them, but you need to love that little version of you, who is waiting for you. Then, someone will come along and love every version of yourself, not just the shattered, fragile glass you see in the mirror."

Pile 2:

Shufflemancy -

18+ only

MILK OF THE SIREN by Melanie Martinez

Come into the Water by Mitski

Las de la intuición by Shakira

Lover, Femme Fatale, Detective, The Temperance, Ten of Pentacles, The Moon, Freedom, Relationships, & Happiness

"Amorous desires are prevalent at this time... I know you have felt it, do not deny it, embrace it! Your body is fertile at this time, use your sensual energy to attract love and abundance. There is shame when it comes to expressing lust but it is not always bad. Take more risks - try on a new dress or go out for the night. I promise I will be there to guide and protect you. Whatever you seek. You deserve to engage with your senses. Have you been wanting to manifest? The ovulation stage and menstrual cycle is a wonderful way to manipulate and harness the energy of the divine feminine. Read sensual books, play with yourself, drink wine, or eat a luxurious meal. You have deprived yourself for far too long. There is someone who wishes to start a family with you, trust in this person, and come to me for advice. You have the free will to create the future you desire. Nothing is impossible. You are a powerful and divine being. Connect with the moon and use moon water as a part of your daily ritual. Dance, create, and sing freely. Your erotic nature is nothing to be ashamed of, observe your cycle, and harness your passion for projects."

Pile 3:

Shufflemancy -

I want war (BUT I NEED PEACE) by Kali Uchis

T r a n s p a r e n t s o u l by WILLOW ft. Travis Barker

FIND YOUR WAY BACK by Beyoncé ft. Melo-X

Martyr, Exorcist. Visionary, Eight of Swords, Seven of Wands, Three of Pentacles, Honesty, Discipline, & Success

"I know you have been waiting for me. You are a strong individual. Everyday, you take on more than the average person could even handle. So many people depend on you and you don't wish to let anyone down, but how long will you stretch yourself, my love? I want you to realize that to be in your feminine power, you do not need to be passive and calm all the time, you need to find healthy ways to release your anger. You do not have to bottle up the emotions that you feel inside, you must speak up for yourself, and be the confident person, I know that you can be. Whether that's at work or with your family, start setting boundaries, allow me to take over. I am not just the goddess of love, I am also the goddess of war. I fight for what I want, won't you? Do you dream anymore? Will you fight for the life you wish to have and know that you could achieve if you put your mind to it, or will you let people to continue walk all over you. You have a vision and goals, start bringing them to life by taking the steps to get there. Breaking them down into tasks will help you achieve better results. You are on the way to be a highly successful being. Do the inner work to attract the money and abundance you need for your desired path. To become your higher self, you also have to let go of the destructive impulses and unhealthy habits that is necessary for your growth."

Pile 4:

Shufflemancy -

Alien by Sabrina Carpenter ft. Jonas Blue

Bees & Honey by Rina Sawayama ft. Coco Morier

Pretty Savage by BLACKPINK

Artist, Advocate, Pioneer, Three of Swords, Queen of Swords, The Empress, Death, Growth, & Humor

"My child ("my daughter"), it is important that you raise your standards and stop settling for less. You have impeccable taste and can imagine things beyond what the universe can grasp, you are capable of creating magic, you just need to take the leap of faith. You are bold, charming, and humorous. You see the best in the worst situations and people value you for this but are also intimidated by your adaptable nature. Your compassionate nature and multi-layered personality is more than one dimensional - it's more than 4D, it's in the 6D. Do what others are scared of doing, dance on tabletops, talk to strangers, life is too short to be comfortable. Practice the law of detachment. The more you are detached to the outcome, the faster it will come to you. If people talk gossip or talk bad about you, let them and just laugh it off! Trust me, the people who are envious of you are waiting for a reaction, do not give them the satisfaction. You will remain untouchable as you embrace your masculine and feminine side, find a balance, and you will known for being innovative and a trendsetter in your journey."

Pile 5:

Shufflemancy -

Velvet Mood by Alice Phoebe Lou

Give Up by FKA Twigs

Love by Lana Del Rey

Rescuer, Don Juan, Scribe, Companion, The Hanged Woman, Nine of Cups, Eight of Pentacles, Service, Surrender, & Indecision "Oh my dear, you are so young still. I've seen your diary, the many nights you prayed and hoped that someday, someone will love you give you the romance that you see from the movies. I know that you believe that maybe your soulmate does not exist in this life, but I assure that they will appear. Your dreams are pure and sweet. Embrace this side of you, for it is needed in this world that is ever so dark and grim. Your light brings hope and joy to others, but be careful, for not everyone is used to your kind and generous nature. It will trigger some individuals and it will also attract romantic partners who wish to take advantage of your light. For those who are not healed or cannot fathom being so loving, it causes them to react in negative ways. Continue your writing. Write stories and share them to the world, for it might even help you fall in love one day. If not with a person, then with a passion. Your writing is beautiful and should be practiced more. You can also write about the person you dream of having in your life, platonically or romantically. Remember to not always put others' needs first and take care of yourself as well, for you have a habit of idealizing a person and romanticize the situation. Be wise with your decisions. Clarity will come to you as you let go of the things you cannot control."

Pile 6:

Shufflemancy -

Love Myself by Olivia O'brien

Venus as a Boy by Björk

Know Your Worth by Khalid ft. Disclosure

Storyteller, Liberator, Alchemist, Seven of Cups, Wheel of Fortune, Wheel of Fortune, The Emperor, The World, Failure, Fear, Worry, & Adversity

"Love, that is what you are. Why do you continue to be so hard on yourself? Give yourself the grace no one ever gave you. We all make mistakes and you are no exception. Your imperfections and flaws is what makes you a beautiful person, inside and out. I know you feel regretful about the choices you made, one recently being the choices you made towards love, but you are deserving of so much more. I will bless you with someone who will love every inch of you, but you must feel this way about yourself. Devote yourself and practice celibacy. Stop thinking about that person you know that I removed from your life for a reason. Know your worth. Pray and ask for guidance. Manifest for the odds to turn in your favor. You must have faith as you liberate yourself from limiting beliefs that no longer serve you. You get to create your story, no one else, release yourself from this script and create a new one. You are musically inclined, sing to me, let me help you write poetry or songs, I can give you inspiration. Turn your pain into beauty and use your current situation to transform into something better. You are entering a new cycle in life, where you will be focused on self-love and experience emotional fulfillment. Being single has its advantages, you can explore the world, travel, and see what life has to offer you without limitations. New doors are opening and better things are coming, I promise (channeled song: By Yourself by Ty Dolla $ign ft. Jhené Aiko & Change Your Life by Kehlani)."

[spicy30]

Vampire

Remmick's reaction/interaction with different speices of vampire (TDV Vampire)

Warnings: Gore

Tags:@themorriganisamonster

-He’d probably first meet you when you’re hunting, and unbeknownst to him, he’s ruined AND taken your meal.

Remmick ran towards the door. Wouldn’t be long till the Choctaw reach him. So he pounded on the door, a story already formulating in his head to have whatever poor souls have the fortune of being in his path, to let him in and hide him from the Choctaw.

“Help!” He pounded on the door yelling for help. The steam from the burns would go away soon enough. He looked back. 

Damn! 

How long does it take to open a damn door? 

Remmick heard as the door knob slowly twisted and the door creaked open. “Y’all—” only there was no y’all, only you. Pretty little thing, out goes his story about an abducted wife. What should he say now? Or doesn’t matter? You’ll be like him soon enough. “You gotta help me…” In the practiced motion of having his hands have a slight quiver and breathing hard all to communicate in the way the human body does, just for little ole you to let him in. 

“I-I thought I could trust them, but…” Remmick went through the motions. He wasn’t all scared. It was sundown. He’d be able to take them soon enough. “They—they tried to kill me.”

“You okay? Seems like they got you pretty good.” It was the first words he heard from you. How kind. This would be simple enough. 

“Ah god.” Remmick laid on thick the theatrics. You seemed nice enough. You’d let him in soon enough, but it never hurts to be thorough. So he kneeled as his hands trembled, pushing some of his loose hair out of his face. 

Though just as he was about to speak, to really seal the deal, you stopped him. Instead you too knelt in front of him with a smile. “You look really hurt, why don’t you come on in and I’ll help patch you up.”

No need for a captured wife. Remmick nodded at your words trying to hide his little smirk that had found his way onto his face as you took his hand in yours helping him and ushering him into the house. As soon as he stepped in, there was no need for his limping. He was nearly all healed anyways.

You almost—almost made him second guess himself, though that was before he saw a white hood. 

Damn. 

- You made a hobby of hunting, killing, and eating Klans members. You had gotten to Bert and Joan before Remmick did. Unfortunately for Remmick, he doesn’t know that just yet.

There was a sense of disappointment in him. Such a pretty, and kind young thing all wasted on such bigotry. S’alright, he’d rectify you soon enough—and judging by the silverware you held—your husband as well.

You had left him in the kitchen when the knocks came. As you turned your back he left to find your husband. Strangely enough, Remmick found him in a rocking chair. He didn’t react to him. Odd. He just stared.

Remmick stepped closer keeping his ears trained as you stepped outside to talk to the Choctaw. He expected the ignorant words that were sure to come from you, but oddly enough, you sounded normal. Not angry, not prejudicial, none of the things he’d heard before. 

Was Remmick sure he saw that white hood?

Ensuring you weren’t coming in anytime soon he bent down to look at the man who had no expression, though the trained eyes on him let Remmick know that he was aware he was there. Was he paralyzed?

How lucky he came along to help. 

-I think when he turns Bert (Bc Joan is dead, dead ash. Eaten three days prior) he gets the memories, but when the compulsion from you starts in play, Remmick can’t see anything because it's no longer Bert commissioning those thoughts or actions, ergo, not his memories. Though I think they would resurface once Bert makes a full transition (dies or drinking human blood, idk, one of those two.)

It all came flooding into Remmick’s mind as who he now knows is Bert fell to the floor bleeding. The man never screamed, or moved. Simply let Remmick feed. First time it’s ever happened.

Slowly the memories trickled in. Played like a movie in front of him. Childhood, his uncle, his first wife, buying a home with his wife, the meetings and executions they both participated in, and their most recent venture, trying for a child. Explains the crib. 

It all looked so recent. 

There was a knock on the door. Bert watched Joan open the door. On the outside you were there standing with a smile. Annoyance and disgust surged within.

“You're not welcomed here. Go on now, best take your leave fore’ sundown.” Bert heard Joan speak. He stood up going to go get the shotgun. Though when he turned around, he found you inside and Joan with a blank look on her face. 

Everything was clear here. You had popped out of the blue one day and came a knockin’ though after that, things started to get patchy. As if certain parts of the memories had been cut out. Remmick furrowed his brows as he sat down on the chair Bert once sat. 

Things have gotten strange since you were let into the house. They didn’t want you here. Your kind isn’t worth their time. So why were you still here? Still eating their food, still sleeping in their bed. 

Though it all came to a halt one night. Bert felt as Joan stood up and walked from their room. It was late. Bert ignored it, until he couldn’t. Gurgling and hitched breaths woke him. Slowly Bert walked to the kitchen. 

“Bert—” 

The memory cut off and Remmick focused again trying to play further into the memory. Nothing came up. 

Bert sat down on his chair outside and watched as you drank some juice. It was red, a drop slid from your mouth and just before it dropped to your shirt, you caught it with your finger and sucked it before turning and giving him a toothy smile.

A deep, resounding, hor—

It cut again and this time Remmick turned to look at the man as he slowly began to move again. His ears focused on the door that closed. 

You walked past the room. Your silhouette is darker than the dark house.

There was another break in the memory just as footsteps sounded.  

You stepped into the room. Your little nightgown left little to the imagination. Eyes adjusted. You had stains on the side of your mouth. Small whimpers left Bert’s closed mouth. The stains were dark, no color visible.

You took his hand and used it to clean the stuff on your face. It was sticky. 

Bert was breathing heavily now. Eyes wide, pupils dilated trying to absorb the little light, the whites of his eye on full display, just like prey in the wild. 

He gave a small shake and you only nodded. His mouth opened as his hand was brought closer and closer. There was a cry that sounded from him. It was loud, too loud for this time of night. 

“Shh—”

The memory is cut off for the final time.  

-Just like in TDV when they get their memories back from being under compulsion, I think the same happens here, but Remmick won’t get access to those memories until Bert drinks blood. Remmick is very offput but the situation and is very much confused, though you were the wife, turns out you weren’t. You the side piece? 

Remmick looked at you. You had your eyes on Bert. “Oh he’s just restin’” 

As if on command Bert began to stand up, his eyes were still wide as he stumbled back pressing himself against the wall. His eyes never leave you. Remmick didn’t let his mask fall, though he was thoroughly confused. 

You simply stood at the door looking at him. Looking as if this were some huge inconvenience. “Y’know, it’s often considered rude when you take things that aren’t yours, especially when you’re a guest in a home.” You stepped forward and Remmick only watched, he felt the fear Bert felt. It was starting to mess with him. “Mi casa is not your casa and my food certainly isn’t yours.”

Yeah, Bert’s fear was messing with him, hard. Remmick did nothing when you leaned down to look him in the eyes, Remmick did nothing when your fingers ghosted over his arm, Remmick did nothing as tried to clean the blood from his face. Remmick did nothing as he heard the stretch and tear of old muscle being reused, Remmick could do nothing as suddenly hopped on him biting into his neck. 

He tried hard to push you off, but you were stronger. His claws pierced your back and only then did you let go. You were groaning in pain as Remmick willed Bert to bite into you. He tore his claws out of you as Bert squeezed you as he drank your blood. Soon enough your were thrown to the side. Arms bent out of shape.

-Just due to the nature of you attacking him first, his first priority is to kill you before you can kill him, though it’s not gonna work out for him. TDV vampires have better stats than he does from what I saw in the movie. 

You stood back up with alarming speed—so fast Remmick’s eyes barely caught the motion. He’d never seen anything like it. And just as quickly, your body had begun to reset itself, bones slipping back into place as if by sheer will alone.

“I’ve been hunting him and his wife for a long time,” you said, voice low, eyes narrowed. “I don’t take kindly to others stealin’ my work.”

“Wasn’t my intention,” Remmick replied evenly. And it wasn’t. He hadn’t meant to steal and turn your prey—it had just happened. He was building something. Numbers. Power. The structure of a future. “I’m just buildin’ numbers.”

“Why him?” you spat, a flicker of disgust crossing your face. “You saw where he came from. That neighborhood’s a sickness. They’re a plague, and he don’t deserve to live forever.”

As you spoke, Bert moved behind you—slow, cautious—gripping a splintered leg of the broken chair. Remmick clocked the movement but didn’t react.

“Past don’t matter,” Remmick said quietly, his eyes steady on you. “Bigoted or not. They all change once I get to ’em.”

You scoffed, the sound sharp and dismissive. “You’re welcome to join,” he offered, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “It’ll be all better once I save them all.”

“And end my food source?” You tilted your head, eyes glinting. “Nah.”

Remmick let out a short breath through his nose. “Well,” he muttered, shrugging as Bert threw the wooden stake. “I tried.”

-Would try harder, but you are actively trying to kill him and a hivemind won’t work on you. 

You gasped, arching forward as the wooden stake lodged into your back. Staggering, you dropped to your knees, hands clutching the wound.

Remmick stepped forward, stake in hand, the point aimed at your heart. What a shame, he thought—could’ve been nice to have you. But just as he moved to strike, you twisted. The stake plunged into your shoulder instead.

You groaned through gritted teeth.

Remmick ripped it out, ready to finish it. But this time, you were faster. You caught his arm mid-swing and hurled him across the room. He crashed into the crib, splintering it to pieces.

Bert moved in, yanking the stake from your back, but before he could drive it home, you turned, caught his arm, and flung him clean through the wall. He landed outside in the dark.

Remmick, groaning, picked up jagged shards of the broken crib and threw them at you. The first one lodged into the wall beside your head. The second? You caught it midair.

You didn’t hesitate. You flung it back. Remmick ducked, but not fast enough—it nicked off a chunk of his ear. He cursed, clutching the bleeding side of his head.

Bert was back. Again. Charging from behind. Again. You twisted his arm and slammed him into the floorboards with enough force to make the wood splinter.

He didn’t stay down.

With a shout, he lunged, stake rising from below. You caught his arm, turned the weapon back toward him. He tried to stop it—reaching up with his other hand—but it was useless. You were too strong.

Then—Remmick.

His arms wrapped around your throat in a headlock. You slammed back, both of you crashing to the floor.

Bert went for the kill, bringing the stake down.

You twisted just in time—Remmick took it instead.

He screamed. Bert screamed.

You blinked. “That’s weird.” In one motion, you flung Remmick off and drove Bert into the wall again. He groaned.

Remmick tore the stake from his gut.

So you reached into Bert’s chest and ripped out his heart.

Remmick stood, breathing hard, blood soaking his shirt. He looked at you and laughed under his breath, raising his hands in surrender.

-Stage three, bargaining.

“Now…” Remmick took a step back as you dropped the heart with a wet thud. “I’m sure we can come to an agreement.”

“Oh, now you want an agreement?” you asked, grinning, blood still coating your teeth. You nodded slowly, eyes locked on his. “Alright. You help me track down anyone I want. I’m still hungry. Might take a bite or two of you. Best find another Klan member—and fast.”

“I can take you to his uncle,” Remmick offered quickly. “The grand dragon.”

You narrowed your eyes. “How would you know that?”

“I can see memories,” he said flatly, trying not to flinch beneath your stare.

“No, you can’t,” you said, stepping forward.

“I can,” Remmick insisted, holding his ground.

You tilted your head. “If yer lyin’ to me…” Your voice dropped. “I’ll rip your heart out and eat it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied, managing a tight, nervous smile.

-And so it began. A little adventure. I would assume you have a daylight ring and the first time he sees you open a door he thinks you're crazy.

“What are you doing?” Remmick asked sharply, eyes narrowing as he saw your hand resting casually on the doorknob. Had you lost your mind? The sun was up. You’d burn alive.

He’d just helped you turn the Grand Dragon for the memories, while you feasted on the man’s wife like she were a fresh kill. You drained his children next, squeezing them dry and storing their blood in mason jars like preserves. Once the memories were extracted, it hadn’t taken you long to rip the Klan leader’s head clean off.

Now the two of you were supposed to be hiding from the sun. Or so Remmick thought.

“Going out,” you said over your shoulder, like it was nothing. “I want to take a look at this place. We’ll be staying here a while—at least till I finish off whatever blood I’ve stored.”

You gestured loosely toward the kitchen. “They’re in the fridge if you get hungry. Don’t drink it all.”

Then, without ceremony, you opened the door. Remmick hissed and staggered back, flinching away from the light as it flooded the room. But you?

You stepped into it.

The sunlight bathed you head to toe—and nothing happened. No smoke, no fire, no shrieking agony. Just the subtle gleam of your lapis lazuli ring catching the light.

You turned back and gave him a slow, amused smile before walking out, leaving Remmick behind in the shadows.

-I think it continues like that. He discovers new things about you on the road and vice versa. Most likely his favorite trick of yours is compulsion because it’s so similar to what he has. 

“Gosh, that is such a nice hat,” you said brightly, stopping a woman in her tracks as you both passed by on the way to your next meal.

The woman blinked, flattered. “Thank you.”

You gave her a warm smile—charming, disarming. “I want it.” A beat passed.

“Well, it’s mine, so…” She turned to walk away, but you reached out and gently caught her arm. Remmick, a few paces behind, tilted his head as he watched your eyes meet hers.

Your pupils dilated, voice soft but firm. “I think you should give it to me.”

The woman’s face slackened. “I should give it to you,” she murmured, almost dreamlike. She removed the hat and handed it over with no further resistance.

You beamed, slipping it on with a small flourish before turning to Remmick and giving him a spin. “Goes well with the dress, don’t it?”

He nodded slowly, eyes narrowing with curiosity. He still didn’t fully understand how your ability worked, but something about it felt eerily similar to his own hive—just tuned to a different frequency.

“Can you just do that to anyone, then?” Remmick asked, glancing sideways as the two of you walked down the dusty road toward your next meal.

You shook your head, adjusting the brim of your new hat. “No. Wouldn’t work on you. Only the living.”

Remmick gave a slow nod, processing that. “Even then?”

You smiled faintly. “There’s a flower. If they drink it, wear it, even touch it, I can’t compel them.”

His brows furrowed. “Why?”

You shot him a look. “Why does garlic work on you?”

“Strong smells,” he muttered. “It’s antibacterial. Vampirism—mine, anyway—is a sort of infection. That’s why it burns.”

“Hmm,” you mused. “Well, I don’t know why the flower works. Probably has something to do with the Originals.”

Remmick slowed his steps. “Originals?”

You nodded, casually. “World’s first vampires. Oldest. Can’t be killed. True immortals.”

“How old?”

“I don’t know,” you said with a shrug. “’Bout eight hundred to a thousand, give or take. I only met them once. Wasn’t pretty. Not too keen on doing it again.”

Remmick scoffed, puffing his chest just a little. “I’ve got about two hundred years on that.”

You let out a sharp laugh, tilting your head back slightly as the breeze toyed with the edge of your new hat. The sound was airy, almost musical—if not for the bite underneath it.

“Well,” you said, looking at him out the corner of your eye, “you’re really weak for such an old vampire. Our rule goes: the older we are, the stronger we get. I beat you pretty easily.”

Remmick bristled beside you, jaw tightening. “I put up a good fight,” he muttered, not quite looking at you.

You raised an eyebrow, your smile curling like smoke. “Not how I remember it,” you said, voice soft but smug.

His eyes narrowed. “I got a stake into you, didn’t I?” he shot back, his tone sharper now, the words hitting with a little more weight.

You stopped walking and turned toward him slowly, hands on your hips. “And I ripped your buddy’s heart out, didn’t I?”

The smile never left your lips, but your eyes had cooled—flat and glittering like sunlit glass. “If that was your best, Remmick… I’d hate to see your worst.”

He didn’t think that was funny.

-I think after enough time, a friendship would form between the both of you or something teetering on the line of friends with benefits—but definitely friendship in there. I think a favorite bonding time of his would be observing differing vampire features. Then overtime, maybe, just maybe you’d be more receptive to his ideals. 

“Lemme see em’” The blues of his eyes turned red and you smiled looking at him. You leaned over him as he slouched on a sofa. A lazy smile played on his lips. “They’re pretty.”  His legs spread wide so you could stand in between them. 

“I like yours.” His clawed hand moved to cradle your cheek as you closed one of your eyes. Remmick felt the way the veins felt under his touch. Like the way the stretch of tissue sounded as if it was being used for the first time in decades, like the way your scleras turned a deep red. He liked it all. 

Finally you moved, going to straddle him as your hands found their way to his lips, prying his mouth open. You watched in glee as his teeth shifted, their edges growing jagged like shattered bone. The transformation was fluid, practiced—meant to intimidate. But you only grinned wider, matching him fang for fang as your own canines stretched long and curved.

“Yours are sharper than mine,” you murmured, voice low and almost reverent. You reached out, fingers gliding lightly along the edge of his teeth. A thin stream of blood welled from your fingertip and dripped into his mouth.

Remmick’s eyes darkened as he tasted it. “Don’t mean yours don’t hurt,” he rumbled, his voice no longer singular—layered now, reverberating like a chorus of the damned.

Your smile bloomed, wide and full of wicked delight. That voice. You loved that voice. The way it rolled through the air, heavy with all the lives he’d swallowed, the souls whispering inside him.

“You have cooler powers than me,” you said, almost wistfully.

“You’re stronger,” he countered, tilting his head. “And I can’t compel nobody.”

“You can fly,” you shot back, as if that settled it.

Remmick only laughed, deep and ragged, like something ancient and buried trying to surface.

To be added on Tag list: !(•̀ᴗ•́)و ̑̑

Gen Masterlist

Different vampires Masterlist

[cayleeuhithinknott]

✿ — no tears left to cry . . . softdom!chris

in which . . . you leave the boy who broke your heart and fall into the arms of the one who’s been waiting to love you right.

warnings . . . smut , making out , unprotected p in v , creampie , mentions of cheating , mentions of a toxic & manipulative ex , not proofread!

𝑺𝑾𝑬𝑬𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑬𝑹 𝙒𝙍𝙄𝙏𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝙈𝘼𝙍𝘼𝙏𝙃𝙊𝙉 𝙁𝙄𝘾 #9

it had been a long time since you felt like this.

free.

light.

not entirely healed, no, the pieces were still settling back into place. but, you weren’t crumbling anymore. not crying in the bathroom at 2am over texts you shouldn’t have read. not biting your tongue to keep from speaking. not choosing silence just to avoid another argument you’d lose.

your ex hadn’t touched you in months before the breakup. and when he did, it didn’t feel like love. it felt like control. like you were being tolerated.

but chris?

chris touches you like you’re sacred.

when you were in your previous relationship with your ex, you hadn’t meant to fall into his arms. not at first. you hadn’t meant to cheat. chris was just supposed to be your best friend, someone who understood how broken you felt without asking too many questions. someone who didn’t push, didn’t judge, didn’t try to fix you.

he just…stayed.

stayed when your voice cracked. stayed when you showed up crying. stayed when your hands shook and your smile faded and all you could offer was a tired glance and a quiet, “can you just hold me?”

and when your body started craving something more—something warm and real—he gave you that too. slowly. gently. never more than you could handle.

and now?

now your smile has returned.

your eyes aren’t empty anymore.

you’re laughing again. loudly, carelessly, the way you used to. you’re dressing like yourself, speaking like yourself, taking up space like you were meant to. and chris sees it. he’s the reason for it, and he knows it.

“damn,” he says from across the room, arms behind his head on your bed, eyes glued to you as you tug your hoodie off. “you always this hot or am i just noticing ‘cause you’re finally glowing again?”

you shoot him a look, playful and flushed, and toss the hoodie in his direction. it hits his chest, and he grins, catching it before it falls to the floor.

you crawl into his lap with ease. you’ve done this before, but this time it feels different. you’re not crying, you’re not falling apart, and you’re not begging for comfort. you’re just… here. present. and a little bold, hands braced on his chest as you straddle him in your tiny sleep shorts and your favorite tank top.

his breath catches. not because you’re doing anything wild, but because you’re yourself again.

“look at you,” he murmurs, voice dropping as his hands slide up your thighs, slow and reverent. “not a single tear left. just my pretty girl.”

you smile — really smile — and tilt your head, letting your fingertips graze his jaw. “you like this version of me better?”

“i love every version of you,” he says instantly. “but this one? the one who knows how fucking perfect she is? the one who doesn’t let anyone dim her light anymore?”

he pauses, voice softer now. “yeah, baby. this one makes me proud.”

your stomach flips, warm and dizzying, and your lips press to his without thinking. he kisses you like he’s been waiting for it. patient but eager, firm but gentle. his hands curl around your waist, pulling you closer as you kiss him harder, deeper, letting your hips shift the tiniest bit.

you moan into his mouth when his thumbs press into your skin, anchoring you there. the tension between you simmers, slow and golden, not rushed. he lets you take the lead — for a second. lets you move how you want, chase what you need.

but then his hand slides up your spine and into your hair, and the kiss turns hungry.

he pulls back just enough to look at you, eyes dark and steady.

“lay back for me, baby.”

you flip over, on your stomach how he always wants you, heart pounding as you sink into the pillows, and he follows—slow and deliberate—his mouth brushing your jaw, your neck, and your shoulder.

“you’ve got no idea how long i’ve been waiting for this,” he whispers, voice thick with something deeper than lust. “been dreamin’ about the moment you finally let me love you like this.”

“fuck,” he mutters under his breath, hands skating up the backs of your thighs before settling on your hips. “look at you.”

his voice is so soft it’s almost ruined. like he can’t believe this is real.

he leans down over you, chest brushing your back, mouth dragging across your shoulder and up to your ear.

his hand slides up your spine again, slow and warm, and you feel him press against you from behind. a slow grind, no rush. just letting it build.

you arch into him without thinking, and he groans low in your ear.

“that’s it. fuck—feels so good already, baby.”

he lifts your hips slightly so he can pull your silk shorts down, giving your ass a soft slap before pulling your panties down as well. he watches as a shade of delicate pink blooms across your skin.

you can hear him pulling his sweats down, along with his boxers. god, you were so ready. you could never enjoy sex with your ex because he was just…awful. it never felt like love. just tolerance.

chris kneads the flesh of your ass gently, fingertips digging into your skin. he spreads your cheeks slightly, admiring you. “god, you’re so perfect…”

he drags the head of his cock through your weeping folds, coating himself in your wetness. he presses his tip to your drooling entrance, applying the slightest bit of pressure.

you feel his eyes burning into the back of your head. he wants confirmation. you nod, a little too desperately. he grips your hips slightly tighter.

you whimper a little when he pushes himself in, the stretch hitting deep, slow and steady as he settles fully inside you. his hands grip your hips, not too tight, but grounding.

he stays still for a second, just breathing. letting you feel it. letting himself feel it. how euphorically deep he is inside you. how your walls feel stretched and hugging around him. how connected he feels to you in this moment.

“you okay?” he asks, voice quiet.

you nod, flushed cheek pressed to the pillow. “yeah…more than okay.”

he kisses your shoulder again, then starts to move. deep and slow, rolling his hips into yours like he’s trying to learn every inch of you.

you bury your face in the pillow, muffling a whiny moan. your breath’s shaky, but it’s not from nerves. it’s the way he’s touching you. the way he’s talking to you. the way he feels inside you.

“that’s my girl,” he murmurs. “so perfect like this. fuck, i missed you like this.”

you let out a soft moan, your hand reaching back to grab at his wrist. he laces your fingers together instantly and holds it there—his hand wrapped around yours as he keeps thrusting into you, deeper now.

“you’re glowing, baby,” he breathes, voice thick. “you know that? haven’t seen you smile like that in months.”

you choke out a soft laugh, already breathless. “it’s your fault.”

he grins against your skin. “yeah? good. wanna be the reason you never cry again.”

he fucks you like he means it—slow but purposeful, hitting deep with every thrust. his free hand smooths over your back, your waist, your thigh, anywhere he can touch you.

“you feel so good,” he whispers, over and over. “so good. i’ve got you.”

and he does.

you’re not just getting fucked—you’re being worshipped. every sound you make, every arch of your hips, every shaky breath…he’s soaking it all in like he can’t get enough.

and you?

you finally feel whole again. like you’re not just being held, but chosen.

his hand tightens around yours, the one still laced with your fingers, and he presses a kiss between your shoulder blades as his pace starts to build—just a little. enough to make your breath catch. enough to make the heat curl tighter in your stomach.

“you’re takin’ me so well,” he murmurs, forehead resting against your back for a second like he’s trying to keep himself grounded too. “so fuckin’ perfect, baby. like you were made for me.”

you moan into the pillow, trying to stay quiet, but you know better. chris loves hearing you. his free hand slips beneath your body, palm splayed against your stomach, pulling you back into him with every slow, deep thrust. your hips lift slightly, the moderate angle change immediately affecting you.

your thighs start to tremble, and he notices immediately.

“yeah? that’s it. right there, baby,” he praises, voice low and warm in your ear. “you feel that? been holding back for me, huh?”

you nod, breath hitching when he pushes in a little deeper this time, angle hitting something that makes your whole body jolt. chris splays his hand over the evident bulge in your stomach proudly, which encourages him.

“chris—” you gasp, voice cracking.

he groans softly, hips stuttering like he’s barely holding himself together. “fuck, you sound so good… i’m not gonna last if you keep saying my name like that.”

you turn your head slightly, just enough to catch a glimpse of him—his flushed face, his damp curls, the way he’s looking at you like he’s completely gone. completely in it.

the tip of his cock kisses the sweet spot inside of you relentlessly, causing ropes of pleasure to curl in your lower stomach, right where his hand is splayed.

“don’t stop,” you whisper, voice shaky. “please. don’t stop.”

he doesn’t.

his rhythm stays steady but more intense now, deep enough to make your toes curl, to make your mouth fall open in a silent scream. well, not exactly silent. the sound of skin meeting skin echoes in the room, quiet and messy and desperate. and all the while, chris is talking to you.

“i’ve got you,” he keeps saying, like a mantra. “you’re mine. so good for me. so fuckin’ beautiful like this.”

his hand dips lower again, brushing your clit, slow and purposeful, and your hips jerk at the touch, making chris groan.

“you gonna cum for me, pretty girl?” he asks softly, like it’s something sacred. like he’s asking permission to watch you fall apart.

you nod quickly, the pressure building fast, overwhelming. chris feels your walls pulsing around him. he already knows the answer. “close,” you breathe. “i—so close, chris…”

“then let go, baby. shit—cum for me.”

oh, you do.

your whole body arches, face buried in the pillow as the climax hits, fast and hard, ripping the breath from your lungs. your fingers squeeze his hand so tight he almost whimpers, and his pace stutters when he feels your velvety walls flutter around him.

“shit—fuck, baby, that’s it,” he growls, voice breaking. “so good for me. i can’t—”

he doesn’t pull out.

he buries himself deep, a few more ragged thrusts before he’s right there with you—low groans pressed against your shoulder, his whole body trembling as he spills into you. he stays there, chest pressed to your back, trying to catch his breath, his hands still running down your sides even though you’re both shaking.

he doesn’t say anything for a second.

just kisses the space between your shoulder blades again. and again. and again.

“you okay?” he asks eventually, voice hoarse and careful.

you nod, still breathless. “yeah. that was…”

he hums. “yeah.”

a quiet beat passes, and then he slowly pulls out, murmuring soft apologies when you flinch at the sensitivity. he leaves for a second—just enough time to grab a warm towel and a glass of water—then comes right back, slipping into bed beside you. god, he’s such a sweetheart.

“here,” he says gently, handing you the water and helping you flip over and sit up enough to drink. “take a few sips, baby.”

you do. his hand stays on your lower back the whole time.

once you’re done, he tosses the glass aside and tugs you into his chest like it’s second nature. like this is just what he does now. his fingers stroke your hair. his nose brushes your temple. his lips graze your cheek.

“you were perfect,” he whispers.

you smile, still dazed. “i feel like myself again.”

“you are yourself, baby,” he says. “i just reminded you.”

“you always do,” you say, voice quiet.

he nods, pulling the blanket over both of you. “i’m always gonna take care of you, y’know that?”

you curl into him even more, nose pressed to his neck. “yeah. i know.”

and he smiles—soft and sleepy—and presses one more kiss to your forehead.

“good.”

and with his arms around you, his voice in your ear, and his warmth still lingering between your legs, there’s nothing left to ache over—no heartbreak, no fear, no tears left to cry. just him. just you. just peace.

author’s note . . . sorry this is a lil late! this is one of my favs so far :)

🏷️ : @sturniolo04 @admeliora94 @alexturnersgooch @strnilolover @snuffbut @frattboychris @marrykisskilled @mqttittude @purpledragon222 @aubsloveschris @paisleyy22 @emely9274 @oliviasthatgirl @conspiracy-ash @matthewsroses @pasteldreams @matts-wife @courta13 @sugarraez @adorechris @elenayzxsturn @mattybsgroupie @oopsiedaisydeer @bluestriips @grace-sturnz @sturnboos @owenstar @ribbonlovergirl @tweetybaird @tezzzzzzzz @vanteguccir @bernardmatthews @weirdothatwrites @thighs4evan @lm-a-mirrorball @iluvchr1s @sturnslux3 @cutseylady @iconiccolo @beardedbernard

© cayleeuhithinknott

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hello again! This time with a request(although you can skip it if you want :p), could you write something about Tenna with a lightener that suffers from stage fright, but he didn't know and ends up having to halt a show to comfort them?

Feel free to tweak the story around whoever you want! Have a nice day :]

Thank you!

........

If there's one thing Tenna wanted more than anything else on his show, it's for the audience and contestants alike to have a good time! If someone isn't, then the "Fun-O-Meter" isn't going up or down, and he can't allow that.

But when you end up in the TV World and get thrown into one of his gameshows unexpectedly...he gets a bit too caught-up in his excitement over having a Lightner on the stage. The first one who's watched him in a long, long time.

Unknowingly, he chose to put you--who has crippling stage fright--under the spotlight as the sole contestant.

You weren't even good at doing class presentations. How could you do this without looking like a fool???

As he's introducing you to the crowd, you see so many demonic-looking creatures, their claws black as the night and their sharp teeth gleaming under the bright lights, shouting and cheering incomprehensibly.

You don't know any of them.

You don't see any familiar faces.

Just a sea of strangers.

This was like a dream rapidly turning into your worst nightmare-

"Now! Please give us your name."

"H-Huh?" You focus back on Tenna, who's now looking at you.

"Your name, of course! Just type it in and it'll show up on the podium. We only have a small selection of letters, so pick carefully!"

"Oh! Right..um..okay......ah shoot. I think I messed up.." Immediately, you picked the wrong first letter.

You could feel the stares of everyone there, thinking: 'What a bumbling idiot...can't even spell their own name right...'

Tenna was ready to make a joke about your "identity crisis", but in that moment he notices how genuinely upset you seemed. So he pretends to cough, and the screen resets, allowing you to input your name again.

Still, though, you don't feel any better.

During Round 1, you were terrified to pick the wrong answer on a quiz, and embarrassment creeps over you regardless of the outcome.

He was about to introduce a "physical challenge", but he has a hard time keeping up the act and funny quips as he realizes what's going on with you. Judging from your shaking hands, nervous gaze, the stammers in your voice...

So he cuts to a commercial break and leaves the stage, gesturing for you to follow him to the green room, where there's only a few employees and calm music.

At first, you think you're in trouble...until he speaks.

"I'm sorry, I should have realized it sooner..."

"What..?"

"You weren't having any fun." His antennae droop. "Tell me, what can I do to help you feel more comfortable onstage?"

"Huh?? I..uh...I-I promise I'm fine, Mr. Tenna." You're thrown off by his worry. "I just..get nervous being put on the spot sometimes. That's all."

"Those weren't just nerves, kid. You were trembling. I know stage fright when I see it!" He huffs, before pointing to the couch, his voice calmer now. "Please rest. Enjoy our amenities. I'll call you back once I make some...minor adjustments to the games so they're more enjoyable for you."

You had no chance to argue, as he runs off and doesn't allow you to follow him.

RAMB, who overheard everything, explains that while he might be harsh to his employees, he values your feelings more and wanted you to be comfortable on his show. The happiness of Lightners is all he lived for, so he's gonna do everything he can to ensure you're happy and not terrified.

It makes you feel a little better, knowing he's not some crazy overlord of this Dark World who wanted you to play his games until the end of time.

So you rest and relax, managing to calm your racing heart and overwhelmed brain, until Tenna calls you back to the stage--and you're suddenly nervous again.

But for this "episode", there's only one segment: You and him playing a retro-styled video game that reminds you of one you've beaten back in the Light World. He mentions your delight in overcoming the most difficult challenges, beating the hardest bosses, and finding all the easter eggs--he has full faith in your ability to reenact those accomplishments in this "condensed" version.

Your backs are to the audience, and they aren't as loud as before. In fact, you hardly ever notice them as you play through the game, while Tenna commentates.

Even when you're hit with quizzes based on the lore, you weren't nervous and answered them all correctly.

Suddenly it feels like less of a live televised gameshow and more like a casual hangout with a friend.

You get an S-Rank at the end, and earn lots of points to spend back in the green room's prize machine.

You always felt like you should've gotten over your stage fright by now, with people surrounding you saying "you'll grow out of it" or "don't be a scaredy cat". But now that you knew Tenna was willing to be accommodating, you realize he's not all that bad.

He made you feel comfortable enough to be on his show, and he still got a lot of praises/views from the audience due to your stellar performance. So it's a win-win!

[tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang]

it may be because I haven't read the manga in some time, but why do so many people dislike Takeomi? I'm not judging, just genuinely curious and I'd love to know why exactly :P (maybe even your personal reasons, since you aren't super fond of him as well?)

Well as far as I can tell (and for me too) it's because of how he treats other character's in the series. With Sanzu being the most obvious one. He is just a terrible brother to him, always blaming things on him and punishing him for them, he also refuses to pick up Sanzu in the first timeline during a time when Sanzu really needed him because of some argument. This is also likely the reason Sanzu ran away, since we know Sanzu did run off once because of Takeomi after Sanzu attacked him for an unknown reason.

And it doesn't stop there, he treats Senju poorly too. Despite her being the leader of brahman, Takeomi doesn't listen to her and actively goes against her. He was also setting up shady things for the gang and made Senju so concerned that she watered herself down to not seem too strong to him. Now Takeomi actually does realise he was wrong for doing this though so at least he had some character growth there. There's also the time he wanted to use her to get revenge on Sanzu after Sanzu cut his face, which is all kinds of messed up considering how much Senju loves and cares for Sanzu.

I would argue that sibling wise not everything here is entirely his fault though. He should never have been put into a position where he was responsible for his siblings in the first place. It was not Takeomi's job to parent especially since he definitely didn't seem to want to judging by his reaction to when Senju mentions it. So their parents definitely get some blame here but that doesn't excuse all the things Takeomi did.

There's also the way he treated his friends too, from falling out with Shinichiro and seemingly missing his funeral, to how he brags sm about the black dragons and brahman and acts like he created them.

But the main reason why I think he so disliked where as character's like Taiju are more well reveived is because Takeomi never get's a redemption. He realises he was wrong in regards to not respecting Senju as the brahman leader but that's it. He never seems concerned or regretful over Sanzu or anything else he has done. We also don't know what he's like in the good timeline, he works with his siblings so it's implied things are better for them here but we don't get to see it or any interaction between them. I think if Takeomi had been given the chance to redeem himself or we got some remorse over Sanzu he would be seen very differently (at least for some fans).

[phoenixiancrystallist]

Month 4, day 13

Did a lot today! Also did nothing else today lol. I have legit been at this for somewhere in the neighborhood of 6 to 8 hours. I don't remember when I started but I do remember checking the clock at around 5pm after I'd been at it for awhile, and it is now past 10:30pm. So... yeah. I had fun :D

This is the result of parts 2 and 3 of the tutorial series I'm following (I should probably link those more often). Also I made more trees from part 1 just because I could (and also I wanted the practice, but mostly because I could). I... may have been having too much fun modeling things. The second part of the tutorial was for the non-tree plants, and I did way more than the tutorial called for.

I have six trees, 11 grasses, 4 flowers, and 7 ferns (or whatever those plants are supposed to be). The tutorials only called for three trees, five grasses, four flowers, and six ferns. At least I got the number of flowers right? But, uh, I gave the flowers more colors than I was supposed to and set it up so the bundles of flowers are all different colors instead of all the same. So still did more than I should have :P

The third part of the tutorial series was setting up the environment and getting it ready to spread plants all over it. So we made the ground, the hills in the background, and the sky. The sky I'm most excited about making, because I plan to abuse my sky-making privileges when I go to make the swords finally >:D Actually pretty much everything I learned in these tutorials I'll be using in one way or another for the swords, but being able to make my own sky means I can get ~*fancy*~ with the environments I put the swords in :D

Cinta my beloved your sword is gonna be dope as fuck

[crispycreambacon]

H. Hi everyone. Uh. You know what I don’t need to explain myself. Who needs to watermark your art when you can just draw your sona thristing over the art amirite-

The last two people featured next to me are @madamegemknight (bless her poor soul she had no idea what introducing me to Fraggle Rock would do to me) and @couchpotato1206 (aka my bULLYYYYY /lh)

Bonus images below. Fair warning: Extremely self-indulgent. Coughs.

Note: while I’m a minor as of making this post, my sona here is an adult. Please don’t be weird about this thank you!!!

[itsdappleagain]

day 5: AU!!

i decided to draw my own take on the "paper star and carmen escape VILE together" au that has been floating around in my head for months and has a near incoherent three thousand word brainstorming doc to prove it

i also tried to redesign carmen, who i've decided calls herself cardinal in this au because there is no cookie booker escape with the coat and hat (paper star also influences the name).

i took inspo from harajuku fashion which i think is what PS is designed on also? i figured that since carmen sandiego adopted the first article of clothing she ever put on as her trademark that cardinal would just copy paper stars style and i think thats fun

so anyway. they're messy, they're gay, and they definitely have a big dramatic betrayal where they realize that there was never a future in which they could be together or something like that

[mel-loly]

-Happy Valentine's Day, my love! <3

@manpleblog/@alsomanple

[the-weeping-dawn]

'Sorry,' I had to hold a small laugh back, already forgetting what the last pieces they'd attempted to explain to me were, 'so when you said that you were just like me, to directly quote here...' I could see a vein along the long semi-exposed brain twitch in irritation that I was continuing to not even so much touch a piece to require it to be explained yet again, <'I am not sure what part of it is still unclear.' > I leaned back on to the back legs of the seat, holding the wine glass in the deep blue tendrils from my mouth, gesturing to the city around us <'Only one of us managed a city, Baldur.'> They grabbed the glass away in their own tentacle, using another to hold me steady as the chair fell, <'It's hardly something beyond you.'> I took a moment to collect my thoughts, ready to have made them defensive about the switch of names, less ready for the compliment. <'Chances are we're going to be forced to see soon enough, anyway, what was this piece called again?'>

[deepseawave]

obsessed w the tags on ur last reblog

Omgg, thank you haha, it was a quality post so I just had to appreciate it in full force 😂❤️

Can‘t believe someone would actually enjoy my yapping :,D

[albonium]

with the things i'm seeing on twitter it's making me scared so i'll say it here too because there has to be young people following me:

having sex with someone who has a penis and not using a condom means you could catch diseases but also get pregnant. someone pulling out before they ejaculate isn't making it safe. it's not a way to prevent diseases or pregnancies. timing unprotected sex with menstrual cycles/using your body temp is not a way to avoid pregnancy. you can still get STIs if you used a condom. oral sex isn't safe you can get STIs including HIV. condoms can break or slip off and that can be enough to cause all the things mentionned.

get tested regularly, talk to your doctor you're not the first one or the last one to have sex and talk to them about it there's nothing to be ashamed of

[the-kneesbees]

yk I felt really bad about this whole thing at first but looking back I think maybe I dodged a bullet

[digijosify]

Shoutmon tries asking in dogeza

[viperify]

oneshots | ᴛᴏᴍ ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ X ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

⋆˖𐙚 Perfect Little Doll.

Short Summary: Tom Riddle is quite laid-back when it comes to you—but under the effect of a Lust Potion, he just takes what he wants—however he wants.

Warnings: 18+ only! consensual non consent. somno, sex under the effect of a lust potion, rough sex, choking, unprotected p in v, sex with little to no prep, creampie

A/N: I got the highest grade possible for my thesis, you get filthy smut! Win-win.

wordcount: 1,2k

“No, stay— stay like this.”

It’s the first thing you hear when you stir awake in the middle of the night. You try to move—but something, or rather someone, is making sure you have no choice but to stay trapped beneath them.

“Please, no—“ panic rises in your chest as you struggle under their weight—but it’s no use.

“Shh. It’s me. Be good and stay still.”

This time, you recognize the voice, and you exhale a shuddering breath, relaxing just slightly.

It’s Tom.

Lying on your front, you don’t get to meet his expression, hell, you don’t even get to fucking ask what he’s doing—

Because you already feel him pressing against your entrance, tip hot and flushed, leaking with need—and with a single, measured thrust, he pushes inside. Deep.

“Fuck—“ you shriek at the sudden, stinging stretch. “Tom, that hurts!”

As you reach behind you, trying to push him away, give you time to adjust, he instantly pins your wrists to your back.

“I know— fuck, I know.” He grumbles, yet shows no intent to stop. Instead, he pulls out, pushing back inside immediately—drawing another sharp gasp from you. “Go back to sleep, sweetheart.”

You don’t know exactly what’s gotten into him. Yes, you both agreed upon this, that he could use you when you were asleep—and that you could tell him to stop whenever you actually wanted to—but never had he been this eager.

“Tom, please—“ you try again, whimpering at the burning, unrelenting stretch. His hand finds its way into your hair, lifting your head slightly just to push you into the pillow beneath you—muffling your whines.

His hips rock forward once more, testing, trying how much you can take.

“You will be quiet and take it, alright? Be a good girl for me?” He mumbles, voice coming out raspy, laced with need. He withdraws then, only halfway this time—

Just to snap his hips forward again, tip harshly ramming against your sensitive cervix—a feeling that has you biting your lips so hard, you taste blood.

“God, Tom!” You yelp, hips involuntarily bucking against his in an attempt to free yourself—but it only results in him slipping deeper, drawing a low groan from the brunette.

Slowly, he starts rolling his hips against yours, still buried deep, brows furrowed, breathing heavily through his slightly parted lips at just how tight you feel around him.

Finally, his hand leaves your hair, allowing you to inhale a deep breath—lungs burning from the lack of oxygen as you do. Just a mere second later, it’s wrapped around your neck instead, pushing you down once more.

He’s got you exactly how he likes you—one leg angled to your side, his body trapping yours between him and the bed, fingers pressing into your pulse point, enough to make you feel light-headed. Hips flush with yours, ass pressed against his pelvis—it makes his head spin. He needs to have you, take you—now.

“Slipped me this potion— told me it was for sobering up— fuck, sweetheart, you’re tight.” He groans, a deep, low sound somewhere from the back of his throat, feeling him twitch inside you.

It all comes crashing down onto you. Why he is like this.

They made him drink a Lust Potion.

Judging by the fact that he didn’t even second-guess before downing it—must mean he’s had a decent amount of drinks as well.

All of that, combined with the effects of the potion—turned him into this.

You don’t get to think about the situation for much longer and what you could do to ease the effects—the slow drag of his cock against your walls as he starts thrusting into you efficiently short-circuiting your brain.

He doesn’t ease you into it. After one or two thrusts, he picks up his pace, hips snapping against yours as though it’s the last time he gets to have you.

Tom usually isn’t the most vocal. Yes, he enjoys it—loves it, even—when he can pin you down and fuck you into the mattress until you are begging for him to let you come. But, just like outside of your sacred four walls, he likes to keep his composure—even during the most intimate acts.

In short: he hates losing control.

But now—he’s moaning, whimpering even at how sensitive he is—at how good and warm you feel, wrapped tightly around him.

It’s making your brain fuzzy. Everything about it. How you are slowly loosening up for him, allowing him to increase his pace, how your own arousal makes it even easier for him to thrust deep.

“Taking me so well, sweetheart.” Tom praises, breathless, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the otherwise quiet bedroom. “Like this pussy was fucking made for me, fitting me like a damn glove—“

And at this point you are praying you would survive this.

His thrusts grow rougher, punishing almost, brushing against your cervix with every single snap of his hips. His hand wraps around your throat, cutting off your airflow once more as he feels himself getting close.

“Fuck, darling— going to let me fill you up, hm? Make you nice and full of me?” He grits out, staying pressed flush against you for a second, making you feel all of him—every vein, every ridge—every. single. inch.

You nod as best as you can, clenching down tight around him.

“Please Tom, please fill me up— need it, fuck—“

He groans at that, cursing under his breath.

“Good girl. Such a perfect little doll, all nice and pliant for me—“

It’s not long until his pace falters, hips stuttering against your own—and he groans lowly as he starts spilling deep inside of you, coating your walls with his warm release.

He collapses on top of you—breathing heavily against your neck, chest heaving—and although your mind is still hazy with your own pleasure, your thoughts drift back to what happened before he returned to your home.

Knowing them, you guess it’s Rosier and Mulciber who did it. Probably thought it was hilarious, too.

You aren’t sure if you should feel bad for the fact that you don’t know what Tom would come up with as punishment.

Because hell—they are not the ones who have to put up with him like this.

Meanwhile, Tom is still buried deep, keeping his release right where it belongs—but then, when his breathing returns to normal, he gives you the slightest roll of his hips—

“Said it would take three hours to wear off—“

And you already feel him growing hard again.

Fuck, you are screwed.

“Tom, please—“

He shushes you with a kiss on top of your head.

“No. Stay— need you— need you again.” He rasps, back to thrusting into you, fucking his cum even deeper as he’s back chasing his next climax. And you? You are right there with him, on the precipice of your own orgasm.

Merlin fucking help you.

If he won’t kill them for this, you might just do it yourself.

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