moon 🌙

“too much?” you ask softly, reaching up to brush damp strands of hair from his forehead. “you want me to stop?”

he shakes his head instantly, grip on your waist tightening, voice raw. “n-no. just- shit, just need a second- feels too fuckin’ good- can’t think—”

you kiss his cheek. then his jaw. then the corner of his mouth, where he’s still trying so hard to keep it together. “it’s okay,” you whisper. “you don’t have to think. just feel me.”

toji’s never been touched like this. never been handled like this— gently, carefully, with hands that aren’t trying to break him down but build him into something soft and worshipped. no one’s ever ridden him this slow, on top, murmuring praise into his skin instead of just using him for dick and leaving when they’re done. no one’s ever wanted to keep him inside just to keep him warm. and definitely no one’s ever called him “good boy” in a tone that made him ache to hear it again.

“you’re perfect like this,” you tell him, voice low and breathy as you rock your hips just slightly— barely moving, just enough for your walls to squeeze around him again, that soft flutter making him buck up with a strangled groan.

he chokes on a breath. “’m not,” he mumbles, blinking up at you, eyes glassy. “you don’t gotta say all that. you don’t- i know what i am.”

you grab his face in both hands, thumb stroking across his cheek. “what you are,” you say firmly, “is good. you’re good, toji. you’re mine. and you deserve this. you deserve to feel good.”

his breath catches like it hurts. and then you start to move for real.

slow, deep rolls of your hips, dragging your soaked pussy up the length of him before sinking back down again with a wet, heavy sound that makes him groan like he’s in pain. your walls grip him so tight he can barely breathe. it’s like your cunt’s made to ruin him. he throws his head back, neck taut, throat working as he moans— loud and desperate and ruined.

“you’re so big,” you pant, moving slow and steady, letting him feel everything, the way your pussy flutters around him, the way your slick coats his cock in messy strings. “filling me up so good, baby. fuck- you’re so deep, ‘m not gonna be able to move tomorrow.”

his hands tremble on your waist. he’s panting now, eyes squeezed shut, hips twitching up helplessly everytime you grind down. “you’re so fuckin’ tight,” he groans, voice wrecked. “gonna cum already.. fuck, can’t hold it—”

“then don’t,” you murmur, lips brushing the shell of his ear. “be a good boy and fill me up. wanna feel you leak out of me, baby. wanna make you cum just from riding you soft and slow like this.”

he breaks. hips snapping up uncontrollably, eyes rolling back as his cock throbs inside you. thick spurts of cum flooding your cunt in slow, heavy pulses, so much it’s already dripping out, messy and hot, smearing between your thighs as you ride him through it.

he moans your name like a mantra, like he’s not even conscious anymore and you fucked the thoughts right out of his head. his arms shake, his breath stutters, and he doesn’t stop holding you, doesn’t let you go, even when his whole body trembles from overstimulation.

“that’s it,” you whisper, dragging your nails down his chest as you keep moving. “you’re still hard, baby. still so big inside me. you can give me another, can’t you?”

“w-wait, wait- fuck—” he gasps, voice cracking. “s-sensitive, ‘s too much, baby, please—”

“but your cock feels sooo good,” you pout, licking into his mouth, letting your walls clench around him again. “still so full. still leaking inside me. don’t you wanna cum for me again, pretty boy?”

he sobs, and it’s pathetically sweet, the way he nods even as he shakes. the way his big, strong body twitches beneath yours, totally at your mercy, hips jerking up to meet every deliberate grind of your pussy even though he can barely handle it. your name spills from his lips in a broken chant as you fuck him through it— soft and slow, but filthy, so filthy, your slick and his cum dripping down your thighs and soaking his abs, your hands tangled in his hair as you whisper in his ear.

“cum for me again, toji,” you breathe, grinding deep. “don’t think. don’t talk. just give it to me.”

he shatters. it hits so hard you feel his whole body lock up, his cock twitching violently inside you as he cums again, sloppier this time, tears spilling down his flushed cheeks as he gasps your name into your neck.

you don’t let go. not even after. you just hold him, still warm and full, your pussy milking the last drips of cum from his overly sensitive cock. you kiss his face. his eyes. his temple. his scar. you pet his hair and press your lips to his forehead and tell him he’s safe.

“…fuck,” he whispers when he finally catches his breath, voice hoarse. “you’re gonna kill me.”

you smile against his skin. drag your fingers through his damp hair and kiss him sweetly, one hand cupping his flushed, wrecked face like he’s the only man you’ll ever love (because he is).

“then die happy, baby,” you whisper. “right here. inside me.”

and he does.

♥︎ Sevika who worked hard for her money, construction wasn't easy, manual labour all day everyday. Early starts and late finishes. But she didn't mind all that much when she knew she could spoilt the absolute fuck out of you with her hard earned money.

♥︎ Sevika loved to take you, her little housewife, shopping to buy whatever you wanted. Encouraging you to spend all of her hard earned cash like it meant nothing. "I can always earn more doll, but whatever you want."

♥︎ Sevika would walk around with her hand on your lower back, ready to squeeze your ass whenever someone's gaze lingered a little too long her her pretty little wife. Possessively claiming you in the most absurd way possible. She took pride in the way your cheeks flush a deep red whenever she was so openly handsy with you out in public.

♥︎ Sevika who definitely brought you way too much. You would have to take multiple trips back to the car to drop off your shopping bags before going back inside and doing it all over again. And no, you didn't carry a thing. Except for the Ann Summers bag which she made you carry, so everyone would know you just brought lots of sexy lingerie to wear for your wife.

♥︎ Sevika who, in Ann Summers, paid the workers to keep the changing rooms free and empty while they were in there, tossing hundreds of dollars at the workers like it was pennies. "Sevika... you can't do that..." you mumble as you work to get your dress off.

"Why not? I'm about to witness the best fashion show of the century. And if you think I'll be able to keep my hands off you, or my dick out of you, then you're sorely mistaken babygirl."

You blush a deep red, something that happened far too often around Sevika as helped you out of your dress. If she was buying you all these nice things... she deserved a thank you right?

♥︎ Sevika who was rock hard before you even got into the first set of lingerie. You had to get naked to get into it, and she was using all of her strength holding herself back from bending you over and having her way with you. "Damn tease..."

You giggle as you slide the first set of panties on, a red lace pair with a silver charm on the front. "Do you like them baby?" You do a 360 spin for her.

"They'd look better in your mouth. Come here." She pulls you to straddle her lap, your tits firmly squished against her chest, sensitive nipples brushing against the fabric of her shirt causing you to let out a small whimper. "Can you feel how much I like them hm?" She uses her hands to guide you, grinding you on her cock through her pants.

"Mmhm... you're so hard baby..." you moans softly as you grind on her, hands on her shoulders to support yourself. "Then let's fix that, yeah?"

♥︎ Sevika who only made it though watching you put that one red lace thong on before her self restraint snapped. With her pants and boxers pushed down just enough to free her long, girthy, veiny cock she kept thos panties on, pushed to the side as you rode her right there in the changing room. "Fuck that's it doll... ride this cock... fuck-" her hands tighten on your hips as she helps lift you up and down, her hips thrusting up into you.

"B-baby... it's so deep..." you moan loud, too overwhelmed and satisfied to care about how loud you're being. Sevika would make you be quiet if she didn't care about people hearing you. "I know doll it's so deep in your tight little cunt hm? Fuck keep squeezing me like that and I'm gonna cum in you right fucking now-"

And she did. Multiple times until it was seeping out around her cock, leaving a white ring or cum around the base, coating her pubic hair.

♥︎ Sevika absolutely hadn't had enough yet and now had you bent over, hands on the mirror looking into your eyes as she pounded you from behind. Your hair wrapped around her fist as she kept your head up. "Eyes on me doll, watch me destroy this pretty little pussy..."

All you could do was weakly nod, wincing as it tugged harder on your hair. "It's t-too much... nghh it's so big vikaa..." you whine and moan as your fingers dig intlt he mirror as you try to keep your balance. Sevika had the red thong pulled to the side, watching as her cock slid in and out of you easily, the cum already coating her cock mixed with your juices was enough for her to slip in and out like a damn slip n slide as she groaned, pumping your full of her seed again.

♥︎ Sevika who did not give a fuck about how loud you were or if the workers could hear you whimpering and moaning as you took her cock. In fact, she was so unphased she asked one of the workers to go and grab some lube off the shelf and paid for it right then and there. You were bent over, and your ass just looked so good, how could she not fuck you in every hole?

♥︎ Sevika who was so unashamed as she poured the cold lube over your puckered hole, working you open with two long fingers while her cock was keeping warm inside your sopping cunt. "That's it doll, open up for daddy..."

You whimper and push back against her fingers as she scissors the open, only for her to pull them out and spit into your slightly gaping hole. "Please... mmph need to be full daddy..." you whimper as she pulls out, rubbing the head of her cock over your back entrance. "Look at you begging so pretty... my slutty little wife begging for a big, fat cock in her ass." She chuckles as she spits once more before pushing in, slowly stretching you out.

As she bottoms out her hand grip your ass cheeks, pulling them apart to watch as she slowly rocks her hips back and fourth, reveling in the way you moaned and whimpered, tightening around her length.

♥︎ Sevika who made sure each hole was nice and stuffed full of her cum before pulling out, scooping up and cum that hand leaked and pushing it back into your holes. "Keep it in doll. Be a good little cumdump f' me."

You watch as she digs through the basket, opening up one of the butt plugs you had picked and slipping it in, keeping you plugged and full. "Vikaaa.. w-we didn't pay for it yet..." you whimper as she replaces the thong back to its original place and stands you up.

"Shhh, don't worry baby, daddy will sort it. You just stay here and get dressed okay? Keep those panties on."

♥︎ Sevika grabbed the basket and lube and took them to the counter as you got dressed. After fixing your hair and make up as well as you could (which was not helpful, you could tell from a mile away that you'd just been fucked sensless) you walk back out into he store and find Sevika.

She smirks and wraps and arm around you before turning to the worker. "Oh, and also add on one of those butt plugs and the pretty red lace thong. She's already wearing 'em." You blush furiously, as does the worker as she adds the items ontot he total bill. And Sevika just stood there, with a huge fucking grin on her face, and a very, very satisfied cock in her pants.... she would still have you over every surface once you got home though. You had more lingerie to try on.

You hadn't meant to break the rules, it wasn't intentional. But you did, and that came with consequences.

"What have I told you about keeping yourself hydrated, and no, the coffee I made you before I went to work doesn't count." She raises and eyebrow, sat down in the plush chair she kept in the corner of the bedroom.

"That... it's important and that I need to drink my water..." you look at her shyly. Whatever punishment you were about to receive would depend on the day she's had.

"You know I set these rules for your own health to keep my girl healthy. You understand that?" If Sevika was pissed she was doing a damn good job hiding it. But you had leant over the years that her calm disappointment was almost worse than her anger at your disobedience.

"Yes ma'am... I understand." She takes in your words, holding back a multitude of respones and looks towards the dresser.

The one that held all of the sex toys, equipment for punishment amongst other things.

"Get the pink toy, you know which one." Yeah, you knew which one. The girthy pink dildo had a suction cup on the bottom, it was 9 inches and so, so girthy. Bigger than her cock, which Sevika was already palming over her pants. "Yes ma'am..."

You grab the toy quickly and stand in front of her once more, waiting for instruction. "Now suction it to the floor." You points down and clicks like she's commanding a dog, and you move at her command.

When she got to the bedroom she'd already stripped you down naked before she took her seat. The cool air and promise of pleasure, even if it was temporary or mixed with pain had your nipples hardening and pussy growing slick between your thighs.

You sink to your knees the toy resting between your folds, getting covered in arousal. You knew better than to tak eit without being told. "Good girl for waiting, but I want to see you take it." Sevika's voice was raspy, lined with lust, dominance but the underlying annoyance was still there.

You shift in your knees, lifting up just enough to sink back down onto the toy slowly, lifting up and back down to ease yourself onto the toy until a good seven inches of it sat snug between the tight walls of your cunt. "I believe you have an apology for me." Sevika starts as she stand and unbuckles her pants.

You watch as she undresses from the waist down, her pants and boxers discarded, her length standing at attention, the tip red and angry looking, dripping pre cum. "I'm s-sorry for forgetting to drink my water ma'am... I won't do it again."

She hums, not in approval, more so to say she heard your weak attempt at an apology. "Open your mouth, stick out your tongue and start riding that toy like you mean it." She groans slightly as she fists her cock, tapping the tip on your tongue to catch the pre cum before pulling back again.

"Mmf..." you chase it with you mouth until you realise she's sitting back down. As much as you want to close your mouth and swallow the residue on your tongue you don't. "Keep that filthy mouth open, if you want to be dehydrated by dehydrated. You'll be begging me for water once I'm through with you."

Your nails dig into your own thighs as you circle you hips, grinding down onto the toy that filled you almost painfully. Slick covered your tinner thighs and was dripping to the base of the toy beneath you.

Sevika had a steady rhythm, her hand wrapped around her cock and jerking it, grunting every so often when you let out a small whimper. "Look at you, making a mess. Even when you're getting punished you can't stop your whore hole from leaking huh?"

God her words should hurt. But when your pussy clenches around the silicone and you grind down harder she smirks. Shaking you head you look up at her, dragging your eyes from her cock to her face.

Your mouth was getting dry, and Sevika could tell. "You want water now don't you?" You nod, desperate to just rehydrate your mouth, even if it was with saliva. "You'll get hydration, but you'll work for it. Put on a show and make me cum and then you can drink it."

You lean back and plant your hands on the floor behind you, spreading your legs to show Sevika how wet you were. With renewed vigor you start to grind and bounce on the toy, and god Sevika nearly blew her load- but she wouldn't tell you that.

Seeing you so needy and desperate, you pussy read and swollen, swallowing the toy she knows is hitting your g-spot with each thrust. "Is that all you've got slut? You can do better than that. I've seen you ride me with more enthusiasm."

You shake your head and sit up straighter, bringing your hands to your tits you push them together and pinch and roll your nipples.

You whimper as Seviks stand and moves infront of you, her cock perfectly at level with your mouth. "You're going to swallow every drop like the greedy little cumslut you are. Got it?" She grunts as her hand flies back and fourth over her cock.

You watched it twitch and opened ypur mouth wider as you waited to take her load. Her other hand grips the back of your head and she shoves her cock to the back of your throat, causing you to gag as she finally cums, releasing her load straight down your throat.

"Fuuuck there we go. Swallow it all, don't waste a drop." She holds your head down, you nose pressed against her abdomen as you choke and splutter, trying to swallow her load.

After a few seconds you manage to swallow it and she pulls back, smacking your cheeks with her cock and smearing the remaining cum and spit all over you cheeks, lips and nose. "Close you cum catcher you slut."

You close your mouth, tears sliding down your cheeks to mix with the spit and cum smeared over your face. "Please... I- I-" you look up at her, your hips still unconsciously grinding down on the toy.

"Oh you want to cum?" She leans down, grabbing ypur chin to force eye contact. "Bad girls dont get to cum. Stand up." She pulls you up with little effort, the dildo sliding out of you with a wet 'pop'.

The floor was a mess.

"First, you don't listen to my rules. And now, you're needy little whore hole is makin' a mess everywhere. You think that deserves a reward?" She grips your hair and pulls your head back.

You look up at her, the grip on your hair causing tears to prick at your waterlines. "N-no ma'am... but I'll be a good girl I promise... please?... please..."

Damn it all to hell, how could she say no? When you looked so pretty crying, desperate to cum it had her cock hardening again and she'd have to deal with that.

"On the floor, hands and knees. Present yourself and clean it up." You move on instinct, kneeling down on the floor and arching your back. "Yes ma'am..." Sevika kneels behind you, gliding her cock through your folds before pushing in, slipping in easily due to you stretching yourself out earlier.

"Jesus... maybe I'll have to replace you soon, you're getting loose." She chuckles despite the desire coursing through her veins. The feeling of your wet heat wrapped around her, sucking her in almost finished her off.

But she had to teach you a lesson first.

"F-fuck... oh my god..." you moan, whimpering with each thrust as she starts to pound into you, your kness sliding on the laminate floor beneath you with each thrust. "You've got a job to do, or are you too fucking stupid and forgot already? I wouldn't be surprised, you get silly around cock don't you?"

One hand grips your thigh as the other grabs the back of your head and forces your face to the floor. You cry out and instantly start cleaning up your mess, licking and lapping at the dildo and floor surrounding it.

Sevika uses her grip to control your head, pushing and pulling your head back and fourth, using you tongue like a mop. "Dirty fuckin' bitch ain't ya? Maybe I'll have you stop using the mop amd make you lick the floors clean."

Despite her words, the taste of your own arousal on ypur tongue as she pounded into you from behind was getting you off. And she knew it was, otherwise she wouldn't be doing it.

Her hips twitch and still and you feel the warmth seep into you, spreading into your lower belly as she fills you up. "There we go... that's your job too isn't it? Being my cumdump whenever I need to get off." She pulls out and watches as you instinctively clench, causing her seed to spill out of your dripping hole through your folds. "Please... please I want to cum..."

You let out a sob, though you knew it wasn't going to happen. You had been a bad girl, and bad girls don't get to cum.

"Too fuckin' bad. You should've drank your water." Despite her harsh words, and your own lack of orgasm she pulled you up into her lap on the bed and held you close. The punishment was over, even if you were still a needy, dripping mess. "I'm s-sorry..."

Sevika ran her fingers through your hair, massaging your scalp where she had been pulling and tugging on it. "Shhh... shhh it's okay baby I'm not mad but I set those rules for a reason yeah?"

You nod, your wet cheek sliding against her chest, still wet with... everything at this point. Spit, tears, her cum, your arousal. But Sevika didn't flinch, didn’t move as you came back around and calmed down.

"We'll give you a nice big orgasm tomorrow morning if you behave for the rest of the night okay?" As you nod she smiles, you might not be happy about it, but you were behaving.

Maybe you'll drink your water from now on.

His fingers had shaken as he dipped them into the balm and brought it to your breasts, rubbing it in with exaggerated gentleness that borderlined to worship.

The moment your nipples had tightened under his touch, he'd let out a shaky breath like he was witnessing a miracle.

"Beautiful… so beautiful" he whispered under his breath, voice gone small and awestruck. "I can't believe you'd let me have this…"

That was days ago.

Victor had made it for you in secret. An alchemical balm brewed over a couple of feverish nights, his hands trembling not from exhaustion, but from hope.

"A harmless endocrine stimulation, fooling your body, essentially" he murmured, cheeks bright as he handed you the small glass jar.

The formula was absurdly complex, full of botanicals and gentle compounds, designed with meticulous care so you'd lactate without pain, without pregnancy, and without any risk...

Just for him, because he wanted desperately to be able to nurse at your breasts.

That leads us to tonight.

Seventy two hours later.

Ten balm applications later –three times a day, plus his demonstration.

The lab is quiet, the lightnings outside casting long shadows across the cluttered room. The storm will soon fade into just a low growl in the back of your mind. You walk through the lab and into the bedroom.

Your gaze immediately lands on Victor.

The normally imposing man has curled himself under a tangle of blankets, like a child seeking sanctuary. From what?

Nightmares he never outgrew... About his mother's death? His father's teachings? Or perhaps it's the Archangel this time.

Either way, his shoulders are trembling and his breath is shallow. He's the image of bravado being peeled away like a banana in a monkey's ruthless hands.

His voice comes out cracked and raw. Pleading.

"Please… I don't want to be brilliant tonight. I don't want to be Leopold Frankenstein's firstborn. Not his son, not a Baron, not a doctor. I just... want to belong to you."

You slide beside him onto the four-poster bed, the warmth of your swollen chest brushing his face.

"Mhm… my sweet boy" you coo, fingers brushing down his taut arms. "That's correct. You don't have to be anything but mine tonight."

He exhales, nuzzling into your chest, erratic fingers moving to your nightgown's buttons.

Victor doesn't hesitate when you guide him downward, fingers sliding through his hair. His lips barely brush your nipple –reverent, terrified he might not be allowed.

"You don't have to be afraid. You've earned this. Taste me."

His eyes flutter and he groans.

Then, he closes his lips around your nipple.

The first suck is careful, tentative.

But when the balm's work meets his tongue and the warm bead of milk touches his mouth... He whimpers, the sound vibrated through you.

He suckles harder, instinct taking over. His hands grip your waist, pulling you closer like he can merge into your skin. His cheeks hollowed, desperate, hungry, overwhelmed by the taste he's created and you've given so freely.

"Good boy" you praise, stroking his hair. "Drink."

He moans around you.

Each swallow makes him cling tighter, suckling with more urgency. Milk smears his lips when he pulls back for a gasp, and he dives in again with a breathless noise.

You carress his back as he drinks, comforting him through it, letting him nurse until he's flushed and milk-drunk and limp in your arms.

Only then, does your hand drift lower, skimming the tense line of his stomach until it reaches the heavy heat waiting beneath the blankets.

Victor's whole body jerks and then there's a whined moan.

You hum, collected. Pleased.

"C-can you…?" His voice breaks to something embarrassingly young.

"I can make you feel good" you whisper against the shell of his ear. A reassurance as much as it also is a cruel tease. "I can make you melt for me. I can make you want without thinking, Vicky."

His thighs lock. His lips part.

"Yes… please."

You wrap your hand around him. Slow at first, barely-there pressure.

Victor lets out a strangled whine that dies against your collarbone. He is already rigid, already leaking for you.

Pathetic and perfect.

"That's it. My sweet little genius. Let me take care of you... Hm, my baby boy?"

You stroke him with a lazy, deliberate rhythm, your thumb circling the sensitive head.

Victor gasps, his hips already twitching, wanting to thrust into your fist, but tonight, too shy to dare. His fingers clutch the blanket like it's the only thing keeping him tethered to the physical world.

"You don't have to hold yourself together" you tease softly. "Not with me, because I know you're just a desirous, pathetic wretch."

His breath hitches.

"I'm— I'm already—"

"I know" you coo. "Let go for me, baby."

You tighten your grip just enough, twisting your wrist the slightest bit, and Victor comes.

Sudden.

His hips lurch, his breath shatters, the first release spilling messily over your fingers. His face buries into your chest as a soft, humiliated moan tears out of him.

"Mmh… God… I—"

His body is shivering violently, but your hand doesn't leave his still swollen member. You only slow down. Enough to make it twitch and him groan.

Then begins the stroking again. Softer this round, coaxing, milking him through the overstimulation.

Victor whimpers.

"I—I can't… it's too—"

"No" you cut him off sweetly, kissing his temple, "you can give me more."

He's trembling head to toe.

His cock throbs helplessly in your hand, slick from his previous release, and so sensitive, every stroke pushing him into that fragile state between pleasure and unraveling.

Your thumb brushes his tip again.

Victor's entire body seizes.

A broken cry escapes him as he jerks forward more violently than before.

This release is different.

Too wet.

Hot fluid spurts against your wrist, too strong to be just sperm, and he lets out a wounded, frustrated cry as he drenches your hand.

He tries to squirm away, overwhelmed and embarrassed, feeling unmanned, but you softly push him back fown, stroking him through the last spurts and the bigger aftershocks.

Then he freezes.

And then he cries.

Not pretty tears.

What you witness are real, ugly, raw sobs that claw their way out of him.

His breath stutters as the last spurt pulses against your palm, his body limp and novelly overstimulated. Utterly undone.

He collapses into you, face pressed –planted, really– between your breasts, tears soaking your skin.

"I—I don't— ...why—" he chokes out between sobs. "It was so—I couldn't— it was too much—"

You pull him into your lap, wrapping one the blankets around the both of you.

"Shh... You did so good for me. My perfect boy. My sweetest little one…"

This only makes him cry harder.

Years of lonely brilliance and pressure spill out with the same helpless force as his pleasure had.

Your hand threads through his damp curls, gently cradling him to your aching breast. His wet, quivering lips brush your skin instinctively, seeking warmth and comfort, seeking something that once was torn away from him. Unjustly so.

Maybe, in this moment, he's even seeking something he never had.

"I love you" he whispers against your chest, ruined. "I'm yours. I'm—I'm all yours…"

You try to sooth him, rocking him gently. "All mine? My baby, Victor? That is correct. You're mine."

He melts, still trembling, sticky, and exhausted, clinging to you helplessly.

The constant uproar inside him eases only because you are holding him through this aftermath. Your brilliant, broken boy, small and precious in your arms.

At some point, you slip out of bed, meaning to grab a glass of water.

There's a soft drizzle now, and the cold tiles make you hiss as you pad toward the lab sink.

Behind you, the blankets rustle violently.

"...where are you going?" Victor's agitated voice cracks like he's just woken from another nightmare.

He sits half-upright in the tangled sheets, hair impossibly wild, lashes wet, looking heartbreakingly betrayed.

And petulant.

"Getting water" you answer gently. "I'll be right back."

He swallows so hard it's visible in his throat.

His abandoned puppy look sharpens into something darker.

"You weren't leaving? I… I can't—Please don't leave me."

You cross the room back to him. Before you can touch him, he grabs your hand with both of his sweaty ones, clutching it like you're the only solid object in a collapsing world.

"I hate it" he says, eyes squeezing shut. "When you go further than an arm's length. I feel… hollow."

Then, lower, ashamed but honest...

"I even get jealous of the strays you feed in the mornings. And that blasted paperboy who smiles at you. I know it's childish—"

"It's alright."

"It's not" he insists, voice barely holding on. "But you must understand that I can't help it. I've never had anything warm that stayed."

His breathing hitches again. Letting go of your hand, he curls back under the blankets, fetal position, knees bent to his chest... Bringing his hand to his lips and suckling his thumb. He's grounding himself, trusting you enough to do so in front of you.

"Please hold me now. I mean... right now?"

You roll your eyes in mock exasperation, sitting beside him, combing your fingers through his hair as he nurses on his thumb, like a half-feral, over-wired creature.

His body relaxes gradually.

"I'm not going anywhere" you clarify.

He shifts closer at that, thumb still in his mouth, his free arm wrapping around your waist with desperate tenderness.

"You promise?" he mumbles around his finger.

"Yes, my love."

Victor lets out a tiny breath, then nuzzles deeper into your stomach, blankets pulled tight around you both like a little nest he refuses to let you leave again.

Outside, the storm has finally died.

Thank you for reading♡

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Divider by @strangergraphics.

The inklings of early twilight stirred within your chambers, you awoke to the faint, dreamlike haze of winter moonlight pouring through the drawn curtains, a pale luminesce ray that made everything look half-unreal, like the room was still suspended in the quite aftermath of your morning slumber. A lesser light shined faintly amongst stacked books, a single lit candle burned against the dim of your lovers side of the bed.

You blinked once, twice, your mind thick and slow, thoughts sticking to the inside of your skull. The sheets were a warm, heavy cocoon against the curve of your lower back. You rose, rubbing the remnants of sleep from your eyes. Your palms slightly damp with the moisture that accumulated when lying in a single spot for too long and hadn't quite aired out over dawn.

You ached in that deep, dreadfully familiar way that came from something within- raw, accompanied with a persistent dull throbbing that left you sluggishly shifting for relief, hissing sharply when each movement achieves the opposite affect. Leaving your muscles trembling from tossing and turning every part of yourself and finding, to your horror, that there was not escaping the dull throbbing just below the curve of your abdomen

And then there was the moisture. The unignorable pooling between your legs.

You were coated in a thin layer of condensation, sticky against the satin sheets flush against your bare flesh, the fabric cloying, a silken, constant sensation gripping against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh whenever you shifted. The soft chill of Nosferatu's crypt, stone walls soaking all warmth into its density and leaving only hollow, desolate, frost in its halls the cold encroached swiftly at the loss of the blankets, now pooled beneath the curve of your ass, expedited from the slick, wet sheen of your skin.

Now, as consciousness tricked began to steadily trickle back in, you became aware of the body behind you. Solid... Cold as death... Yet unmistakably awake.

The touch that followed was unhurried. Deliberate. The patience of it bordered on cruelty, as though the passage time itself were inconclusive, irrelevant to her. You inhaled sharply, breath breaking before thought could catch up, hips answering on instinct alone.

Deeper, something inside you moved, curled sinfully against the throbbing, bleeding walls. Two fingers, no, three, buried to the knuckle, curling and scissoring with the slick drag of blood that definitely hadn’t been there when you had gone to bed. Every gentle twist brushed that spot inside you, the one that made you hips twitch forward unconsciously.

Your breath hitched, a low, involuntary moan slipping out before you could stop it, labored and needy. Your body responded before your mind could catch up, ass pushing back into the touch, greedy for more even against the ever-present throbbing pain nestled above your cervix.

Still, your hips twitched weakly as you struggled to hold yourself up, raised just enough for her to press burry nose between your cheeks drinking your slick in deeply, her clipped nails buried deep alongside her tongue, the little bud firm against the wet bloody skin of her chin with every freverent lap between your folds. The pace was maddening, accompanied with the dull painful throb that only fueled your need for release, leaving you trapped in a haze of frustrated want, hips rocking uselessly, the throbbing all but stabbing against your abdomen with each involuntary thrust.

You was already stretched open, slick and raw, and the knowledge of how carefully Nosferatu had prepped you while you slept made your face burn hotter than the shame of the blood streaming against the flat of her tongue, and down the trembling planes of your spread thighs.

Nosferatu’s hand settled at your waist—cool, anchoring, possessive. Her thumb traced a slow circle, more restraint than comfort.

“Good Night, love,” Nosferatu's voice rumbled low against the shell of your ear, voice pitched low with amusement rather than apology as phantom breaths ghost over the fine hairs at your drenched folds, raising gooseflesh in its wake.

As quickly as her lapping had ceased it resumed, her pumping never stopped, if anything, it deepened.

What had started as careful, almost stealthy friction while you slept now turned deliberate, unapologetic. Your hips rolled with lazy, possessive insistence, her tongue swiping thick lines dragging slow and heavy between your folds, smearing a hot, slick trail of blood, saliva, and slick that cooled instantly in the algid ancient air and made you shiver from head to toe.

You swallowed hard, the sound of noisy muffled slurps embarrassingly loud in the quiet room.

“How— how long have you been…?” You shuddered, trembling in stuttering quakes with every enthusiastic swipe and prod against your entrance.

“Attending to what was offered,?” Nosferatu answered where you were unable to finish, voice characteristically casual, as though she weren’t three knuckles deep and scissoring you lazily, stretching you open with the same patient precision she used to rehearse on the organ.

“Long enough to feel you start pushing back in your sleep.” She responded, her voice honeyed with the faint lilt of amusement.

The fingers inside of you twisted, slow and deliberate, curling just right to turn your spine liquid. A helpless, cracked moan tore through you before you could bite it back. Your hips jerked forward on pure instinct, chasing more, but the cramps were merciless, dulling every pulse of pleasure before with its agonizing waves of torment.

“Fuck,” you gasped, the word muffled into a pillow, damp with his own breath. “Nos, I—”

“That word is unnecessary. Such filth has no place in a mouth like yours.” Nosferatu said softly, absolute.

Her free hand sliding up your side in a slow, claiming drag, until it splayed possessively across the middle most plane of your back. Thumb tracing , slow, permissive circles that made your breath shudder, then pressed just hard enough to force you down, until your chest were trapped beneath the combined force of your drained, dazed form and her dominating pressure that forced your shoulders down and your ass up and presenting.

Your heart stuttered, a mix of anticipation and rolling pangs of aches curling in your gut alongside the building arousal. Every muscle clenched in a vice as you arched, hips canting backwards into the warm, wet maw- readily drinking up the blood and slick from your fluttering, drenched entrance.

You twisted your head, needing to see Nos's face, needing the reassurance of those steady eyes. The room was still dim, but the faint candle light caught on her cheekbones, the sharp cut of her jaw, and the soft fall of hair across her forehead. Her indulgent, lidded gaze settled on yours with brimming adoration, pupils blown like a drop of ink spanning across a sea of crimson.

She looked calm. Yet, beneath the veneer, something ancient hummed against the devastating calm. Like devouring and loving were the same weathered coin to her. You were aware of her nature- and the restraint, perfectly honed discipline it took to fight against it. Every prey instinct within you set alight to cry out in fear, run, or fight.

Instead, you softened. Mewled beneath that gaze while your walls fluttering around nothing at the sight of your blood on her fangs. Your body answered before fear could take hold, yielding with the trust earned over years of devotion. You submitted—not because you were weak, but because you knew her.

And she knew you.

Nosferatu's hips twitched as she stared back at your flushed, eager face, half concealed between your thighs. She dove in like she was starving, mouth hot and wet and grateful, tongue swirling over your clit before she dropped her chin, dragging her tongue in one long, filthy stripe from your entrance up and over your aching bug, tasting everything she was allowed.

Nos pulled off your cunt with a wet, sticky noise, spit stringing from her bloody maw to ypir entrance, eyes dazed and glassy. You made a broken sound at the loss, hips chasing air for a second, before Nos raised to her full height.

She stood over your submissive form with all the grace of a magnate.

“Gown off. Now.”

The command snapped you fully awake. You were still between her knees, close enough to feel her presence before your hands even moved.

You fumbled with the ties, fingers clumsy, and frantic enough to nearly topple you sideways under her watchful gaze, the garment slipping away and pooling somewhere forgotten. Her attention never wavered. Nosferatu observed you, slender palms sliding to her hips, thumbs brushing over her bare skin.

When she finally reached for you, it wasn’t hurried. She guided you down with quiet certainty, repositioning you as though she had already decided where you belonged.

The motion left you completely bare, thighs trembling, slick shining high on the inside of both legs and dripping in slow, shameless strands from your swollen cunt.

You exhaled, surrendering to the placement, to the way her control settled over you like a second skin. slick sheened all the way to your collar, chest heaving, little bud hard and wet, eyes huge and pleading as you looked between the equally slick mound between Nos's long legs and the faint glisten of her blood stained fangs, like you weren't sure what to beg for first.

Nosferatu sighed pleasantly at the sight, hands coming to you as she guided your hips back, easing you flat beneath her. Legs splayed wide, already bucking to meet her own heat. Your slick cunts slid together, clits bumping, and you cried out, shocked at how perfect it felt.

Her hand curled at your jaw, thumb lifting your chin until you had no choice but to meet her gaze.

“You have my whole heart, darling,” she said softly—not as a statement, but as fact.

You breathed out, her words settling over you like a vow.