Body Painting With Flowers Man

Do you guys think I should change the title of my yandere scaramouche fic? I think either “Annihilation” or “Your gentle madness” WHICH IS MOST SUITABLE.. or just “don’t hug me. I’m scared”

@hairstuckinmythroat  @shyentsfoundherink @rsventhesecondd

HAPPY NEW YEAR MY DEAR FOLLOWERS AND MOOTS, LOVE YOU ALL 💌🎄

@himasgod @hitomisuzuya @simp4konig @shyentsfoundherink

˗ˏˋ ꒰THAT BEAUTIFUL NIGHT꒱ ˎˊ˗ wanderer

✧ warnings — MDNI !! smut , fem !! reader , gentle sex/sex with feelings, a bit dirty at the end a/n — I'm so sorry I was absent for so long.. School is killing me. And what about my fanfic with yandere scaramouche.. The next chapter will probably come out after the session ? Before I warn you that there may be translation errors...enjoy ✧ minors do not interact. !!

They say that it is partners who truly love: a mother loves you because it is her duty as a parent; a son will love you because you are a mother; your pet loves you because you feed it and shelter it in your home…

And only your partner loves you despite all the shortcomings and imperfections. Simply because he chose you.

But why did he choose you? Why did he open up his feelings again, which he once buried inside himself, to some mortal lady like you?.. Apparently the Archons decided to play a cruel joke on him again.

You are pulled out of your thoughts by a hoarse, familiar voice, which flows as calmly as a summer rain outside the window. He plops you down on the bed and lies down next to you on one side.

"Now relax."

You feel the cold lips of the wanderer when he leaves a timid kiss on your cheek.

—"let me caress you a little…"

— "Wanderer… enough…"

"hmh.…" - Wanderer slides a cold indigo gaze over you as he begins to unbutton your blouse. You watch the shine of his blue hair that shimmers aesthetically under the moonlight in the room. The Wanderer tenderly begins to cover your hot chest with gently kisses: from the collarbone, right along the solar plexus, then begins to cover your stomach with cold kisses, slowly, timidly even, until he descends to your groin…he painfully slowly kisses your clitoris, through the thin fabric of your panties making you let out a quiet squeal, he circles it with his tongue and kisses, he twisted these actions until he felt your wet crotch.

Puppet notices how you are shaking, he rises to you,smiles slightly at the weakness of the human body and at the same moment helplessly presses himself against you to share the warmth of his own body, but you do not feel the warmth. His skin is cold, smooth, as if not alive… When your skin is warm, human like , elastic.

"Mine, mine…" - The Wanderer whispers to himself, as if he is convincing himself. So quietly that even if he were saying it into a microphone, no one would hear him anyway. But you heard what he said only because you know all his habits.

We have no one else except each other to know someone else's habits.

You know that every morning he drinks bitter tea on the balcony, watching the passers-by in Sumeru, drowning in his thoughts about the past, which is stained with black spots and mysteries. You know that all his sharp as a knife words are in no way compatible with his true feelings for you, a love that is deeper than the roots of any tree, even deeper than the roots of Irminsul…

You know that he never takes his eyes off you, always staying close like a calming shadow, he is always close, protecting, defending. He has survived three betrayals, and if you leave him, he will definitely turn the whole of Teyvat inside out, even though he promised you that he left his cruel past behind.

…

The puppet fiddles with the clothes on your body that are bothering him, when you turn your head to the window: evening, rain, slush, the thirties of August.

What could be worse than the end of summer and warm days? Probably only the end of the deepest feelings.

Wanderer frantically strokes your waist, hips, lower back, but he himself has not undressed, firmly intending to please only you. You close your eyes when he carefully directs his thin gloved hand down, under the blanket, this prankster knows that you are ashamed to do such things without a blanket..

The former harbinger leans his forehead to yours and tenderly kisses your lips, gradually picks up the pace with his hands, involuntarily causing you to gasp, bordering on pleasure. your beloved, does not allow himself to be rude, only softly but assertively moves one hand inside you, with the other he gently caresses your cheek, your head is spinning from the contrast of the cold of his skin, and at the same time the passion that you rarely get to see. What a romantic wanderer can be..

He presses himself close to you, too close, his hand cupping your cheek. The puppet whispers caresses in your ear, admiring you and your body, not missing the slightest tremor of yours. He always paid special attention to your "luxurious hair" - You can't even find an explanation for this. He always said that your hair is his weakness. The wanderer deftly bends his fingers inside you, when you barely squeal from the pressure. He smiles contentedly.

And here is another kiss, demanding, dominant but soft, like a light breeze. He pulls away and chuckles.

"Spread." - The wanderer says briefly and sternly when he notices how you try to bring your trembling legs together and run away from the pleasure that he generously gives you.

You shudder slightly from his abrupt change in tone, he seems to notice your surprise and squints his eyes, quietly chuckling with satisfaction when you, without thinking twice, slightly spread your legs, he ran a gentle glance at the exposed flesh between your legs and you again bury your face in his shoulder when his fingers again continued their rhythm, bringing you to the edge again and again.

"Stop being so reserved.My job is to satisfy you, yours - is to get pleasure. So be a good girl and keep moaning for me like that. More, love? "

"Mhm..Yes please.. "

His hands tightly squeezed your hair, while you buried your face in his shoulder in an attempt to muffle a moan. Over time, his fingers began to move more intensely and deeper, until a third finger was added, forcing you to scream and whine with satisfaction, while his hand still tightly squeezed your head, holding you in place.

Finally, you moan indecently loudly, the pleasure coursing through your entire body. Your young body trembles with pleasure. You lick your plump, bite-filled lips, squeezing your eyes tightly. Your thighs tremble as you release your pleasure right onto the puppet's fingers. He hums softly but contentedly, letting go of your hair and pressing his lips to your hot forehead before his fingers slowly slip out of you, leaving you breathless and trembling.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ YOUR GENTLE MADNESS꒱ ˎˊ˗ scaramouche

pt I - pt II - pt III

scaramouche takes you from this vicious, dirty world into his arms, twisting, tying, shackling you and not letting go.

✧ warnings — unhealthy attitude, forced affection , angst, singer ! fem ! reader , kidnapping , coercive relationship. ✧ a/n — two more chapters + epilogue are planned. The next one will be a terrible mess, I don’t advise those who are particularly impressionable to read it! So that later somebody don’t complain about me.

He takes you away from the dirty world without a twinge of conscience, and has no plans to give you back.

You follow him like an obedient dog, barely breathing and not raising your eyes from the ground. Scaramouche's fingers squeeze your wrist loosely, carefully, but it still seems to you that your hand is numb and trembling from his grip. He notices your shaking hand out of the corner of his eye and sighs, forcing a smile.

You have time to examine the small Inazuma house you entered and the gloomy hallway, and he pulls you further. He walks you to the very door of the bathroom and only then lets you go and leaves you alone.

And only then does all the horror wash over you like a wave.

You are heartbrokenly silent, feeling that you cannot force yourself to utter a sound. Convulsively open the tap and wash the blood from your wrist and palm. The sound of rushing water makes you feel sick, your eyes water, and you close them, forcing yourself not to cry. You peer into the reflection, wash the burgundy stains off your cheeks, and close your eyelids again. You calm

yourself down with difficulty and even out your breathing.

You gather your thoughts and with titanic calm on your face, you enter a small living room in the Inazuma style, where you find Balladeer.

"What next..?"

You try, however, to make your voice sound confident, but it turns out to be hoarse to the point of disgrace, which makes the harbinger laugh.

"It's obvious, sunshine, you will live with me."

He grins. You are covered in frost, and your whole face acquires hard features. How unbroken, stubborn, strong you want to seem in the eyes of the harbinger brings him to tenderness. You hide all your fear behind sarcasm and irony.

"Pha, the last thing I wanted in my thrice-wanked life was to be held captive by some megalomaniac."

You respond sharply, to which he smirks, surprised by your ability to be sarcastic, he does not even respond to your remark and insult. Scaramouche closes his eyes and folds his arms over his chest, shaking his head like a disappointed parent.

It seemed like you wanted to add something, but you turn around and leave. This amuses Balladeer even more. It is hard for him to imagine how gray and atrophied his century-long existence was before you appeared. Now, after each Fatui task, after a trip to Snezhnaya for the sake of a meeting, after completing another stage in becoming a God, when he returns to you, Scaramouche is met by the cold gleam of your eyes, and the strands of your hair braided by his own hands.

The first few days you look like a ghost. You hide, barely move, and keep your mouth shut. Fear crawls under your skin and tickles your ribs - fear of pain, fear of loneliness, fear of the unknown. You keep waiting for something merciless, restrictive, perverted, but Scaramouche does nothing and only occasionally catches your silhouette with his gaze.

Scaramouche is not one to wait patiently when he has every opportunity to take his own immediately. But he gives you time, like a merciful deity.

"You're late. I was hoping you wouldn't come back,"  You can't help but let out a rude retort. The harbinger walks into the kitchen, taking off his hat, leaning against the door frame, and says sarcastically, drawing out the words: "Oh, look,voice has already emerged huh?"   

You grimace, burning your hands with a cup of hot tea. "What's new, other than you were worried about me?"   

"Me? Worried about you? Don't flatter yourself"

You grin, the puppet knows exactly which weak points to press so that you react, transform, become softer.

"What's new about being cooped up inside?" You raise an eyebrow skeptically and chuckle, leaning back in your chair. "I created a new salad recipe from what I found, meditated, and developed a speech, coming up with fifty epithets for your name. I'll make a song out of it." 

"It's so sweet that you thought of me, I would have listened," - He squints slyly and goes to the countertop to make strong, bitter tea. Bitterness with the taste of bitterness. He himself hides his usual cynicism, as if pushing needles back under the skin. He is irreconcilably drawn to this barely familiar feeling.

Your mutual mockery is diluted with calm conversations about something personal and everyday, sometimes you talk about the past while he braids your hair into a light braid (and you, initially, did not agree). You relax a little, almost get used to it and begin to notice how non-committal and calm Balladeer can be. It seems that he does not need anything at all, except your presence and involvement.

The false sense of security becomes too clear and all-encompassing. You convince yourself of the falsity of this feeling, beg yourself to be stronger and more stable, but inevitably you open up and respond to the most obvious manipulation of the harbinger.

You can't do otherwise. Otherwise, you'll just go crazy from loneliness in a cage. And is it possible not to think about how truly good Scaramouche can be when signs of a peculiar silent care are embedded in your consciousness: You'll find a blanket in your room: the harbinger knows for sure that you're freezing at home in particularly windy weather and therefore love everything warm, you bury yourself in the blanket and do something. Or in the morning you'll see a still-hot mug of tea with your favorite flavor on the kitchen table: the harbinger has accurately calculated the time of your rise and food preferences.

It throws you off balance. You have to pull yourself away and replay the images of what happened in your head over and over again. You remember he's a murderer, right? You remember his hands covered in someone else's blood and that guy's sclera? (The sclera is like the eye who dont know)

Now will you drink tea brewed by these hands? Or wrap yourself in a blanket bought after another murder? 

 Yes...

You should have felt disgusted, but no matter how hard you tried, you didn't feel anything close to that. But you felt how his cruel, dark image, invented by you, was breaking into pieces and becoming better in some ways, more ideal in many ways. To a pleasant surprise. You once again take a mug and sit down in an armchair in the living room, covering your legs with a blanket. On a nearby table, you find a book in a red hard cover with ornate silver patterns.

 "All sorts of synonyms to enrich speech." And, to your horror, you smile sincerely and laugh infectiously at his mockery.

"I need to go to the market square," you casually drop, combing your hair in front of the mirror. Late evening has crept up unnoticed and settled on the window panes with the night darkness and howling wind, too similar to someone's helpless crying. Scaramouche is distracted from some inazuma book and looks at you, or rather at your reflection in the mirror.

"For what?"

You sigh in irritation and, without turning around, answer sarcastically: - "Let me remember what a retail space might be needed for. If my memory serves me right, to buy something!"

"Oh, and have you forgotten how to open doors?" - You wind your eyes in surprise, stop combing your hair, putting the comb aside. In the reflection of the mirror you see his casual look. - "Go and buy some."

Scaramouche is not one of those who willingly respond to all requests. And yet Balladeer allows you too much. Generously provides independence, does not constrain movement, loosens the invisible noose. - "But for this liberty you will sing to me," he smiles playfully, baring his incisors, and squints. You suppress a dismissive laugh and, without trying to hide the lie in your words, echo:

"of course..! "

Scaramouche catches that this means never, and laughs. How sharp you are. You see in the reflection how his features soften, take on shades of innocence, and so he freezes between two extremes. You exhale through your open mouth and hold your gaze on him longer than necessary.

Threads - into knots, knots - into nets, and in them only to get entangled and to sink to the bottom. No balance and equilibrium.

You scrape your tongue against your teeth and force yourself to come to your senses while Scaramouche "unties your hands."

And, as it turns out, in vain.

be ready..

@anantaru @hitomisuzuya @lavandulawrites @himasgod @neuvigroove @quimichi @rsventhesecondd @anemoswirlsmyheart @nil4everheartz @kujiba @genshingorlsrevengeance

MY MAN

Late birthday post for my boy, wanderer (love him, main him, cried for him)

I’m not sure if I can say it’s suggestive; more like non sexual nudity?? okay, maybe a little bit, but really sweet Just wanted to point that out so no one is surprised

gn reader

Soft skin meets porcelain. Warmth lands onto that cold body of his. It’s weird, but somehow, he feels welcomed. With every motion of his hands, you feel like you’re about to be devoured. There’s something endearing in that, though. How gentle he is, yet also bold. It earns a chuckle from you.

When that freezing feeling reaches a certain spot, you shudder. He stops. Eyes laced with worry meet yours. A silent reminder of care. “It’s fine, you can go on” and so he does. Your hands wrap around his waist, to steady yourself. Uneven breaths tickle his neck, you never feel his. It all feels eerily.

He leans in, beautiful eyes staring at you, with that pleading expression you rarely see. You let him, eagerly welcoming that sweet feeling of his lips on yours. It’s the only time you feel his body heat. Deeper and deeper, he ventures, as if you’re some unknown land. Hands roam, with so much devotion even the quietest whispers can’t convey.

For a moment, there’s no friction between you. That human body of yours yearns for more, but patiently waits for the puppet’s choice. With that smile, you seem like a god in his eyes. A god he once tried to be, a goal he hoped to achieve with so much effort put, and so little practice of how to be one. You didn’t need it; you don’t need a gnosis, a perfect body (which you do have, in his humble opinion), a whole palace meant for you, you don’t need anything at all. Just one follower who’d die for your happiness - that is, him. How ironic; faithful followers is what he needed the most (even if he saw them as pests), and now he is that, which he hated the most - someone in love.

Warm skin melts with porcelain, like a candle. Two people turn into one in a dance of gentle love and passion. “Happy birthday. I love you always, and forever. Remember that, okay?” He loved you twice as much.

HE HOT ASF

Which genshin impact character(s) are you full on down bad obsessed with?

Wanderer. Not only because I relate to this man so bad but also because he looks so bbg. Also has a very cool hat. I am holding back the urge to yap endlessly about this man. But I absolutely hate how the fandom keeps mischaracterizing him or sexualizing him. Like okay, sure. Be horny for him and all that but stop making him be a fucking sex slave and everything. I may be part of the Scaranation but most of the Scaranation disgusts me more than I dislike most people. Now I know I said be horny with them or whatever but don't be horny for fucking Kabukimono, this innocent little bb doesn't deserve that. Let him keep his innocence. It won't last for long anyway. I hate the fanon version of Scaramouche which is either like "Oh he can do no wrong!!" Or "Oh but he's just an UwU boii!!" Or shit like that because NOO. You're missing the entire point of his character. He was a puppet. He was misled into thinking everyone betrayed him and he did horrible things. The point of erasing himself from Irminsul was not just because of self hatred, he wanted to reverse his terrible actions. It didn't, he has to live with the guilt of every single mistake he has committed and overcome it. He is not a femboy, he is not UwU, he is not a sex doll and he can do wrong. I know this is a fictional character in which it doesn't matter what you do with him, so I'm not gonna be like those Scaramouche fans that bash and wish death upon people for including the tiniest thing relating to Wanderer just because he's their comfort character. I'm not gonna gatekeep him as long as people start treating him with some goddamn respect. That's all I want for him. For his fanbase to give him some space and respect him or at the very least sympathize with him. Now, if you don't wanna that's fine. Walk away. But you shouldn't take your hatred for him out on anyone or anything, in real life. If you hate him, that's okay too. People can have their opinions but don't go bashing people for it.

Thanks for coming to my Ted talk.

HEEELP SHES SO PRETTYY AHHH!1!1 (ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈) ༉‧ ♡

˗ˏˋ ꒰ LABORATORY GAMES꒱ ˎˊ˗ Il dottore

Dottore decided to pamper his dear wife right in the laboratory

✧ warnings — NSFW, petting, wife ! assistant ! reader, dottore being loving , detailed description of genitals, no "pussy" "tits" etc.a bit non-canonical dottore (but I tried lol) ✧ minors do not interact. !! ✧ a/n — AAHHHH he's so hot, so elegant, but he scares me..

Dottore, taking you by the hands, escorts you and seats you in his chair. He leans on the armrests and hangs over you, leaning forward to kiss. Again, sweetly, with the desire for your lips, with feeling, relaxed. It seems to you that only he kisses like this - so imbued with the moment, so pleasantly.. You have long been convinced of this, now you only see confirmation.

For convenience, he puts his knee on the edge of the seat, between your legs. You hug him, raising your hands high, touch his shoulders, run your fingers along them and take hold of the edge of his black shoulder straps on his chest, wanting to feel your husband even closer. The chair awkwardly wobbles from side to side because of the hinge in the mount and the wheels on the stand. And it seems that one of you does not like this at all.

The harbinger moves away, stands up straight and, without asking you anything, moves the seat and its back to the table. It comes out somehow even rudely, you grin hysterically, seeing the strangely serious expression on your partner's face even behind his mask. And he is near you again, puts his palm in a black patent leather glove with blue palms on your thin neck, presses his thumb under your chin, lifting your face. The doctor kisses you again, but not for long, goes down and gives attention to your neck, pleasantly touching it with his lips. There are pale scars from his teeth on your shoulders. He still does not spare you. Unbuttons your shirt, doing everything even too quickly. Dottore is incredibly patient, you know, but… Now with you is not the same person with whom you spoke ten minutes ago.

"Maybe you have any bright preferences?" - He asks and with the nose of his beak mask outlines your cheekbone, tickling..

"Uh… I don't know…" - you feel awkward talking about this, that's all.

"Shyness is the enemy of debauchery. Flower." - he whispers in your ear, instantly spreading crowds of goosebumps on your shoulders.

"Don't you want to feel the best of what you can get?" — a soft and usually wet tongue runs along the shell of your reddened ear, it gets hotter..

"Dottore.. I…" - you are gently taken by the jaw and turned away, not letting you finish. He understood perfectly well what exactly of his actions turns you on, it was your whole body that betrayed you. The body-traitor, unconsciously giving an impulse to the fingers that yours squeeze the robe on someone else's shoulders.. The way you tremble and breathe heavily..

The doctor obviously knows well how the body works and reacts, and it is easier to read you than to read the title of a book. Now he is not interested in your curves, he needs a reaction. The essence of your desires, to understand who you are beyond common sense. To get to the truth, to the deepest plan, intentions. His "love" shifts to the collarbones, now open to the man. His butterfly kisses cover your bust, while his palms make their way to the belt. It is stuffy under your wet shirt, feelings are revealed anew when the scientist's fingers touch your back. You arch your chest forward, ribs become clearly visible, while Dottore unfastens your bra.

(And yet, when deeply in love, petting and sex are many times more pleasant than in other situations.)

A slight movement - Your bra is pulled up, your breasts are perfectly visible to your partner, who is trying hard not to examine you in too much detail so as not to embarrass you. Shame, shame after all.

One of your breasts is carefully squeezed in his palm, feeling it in a way that pleases you. Dottore, in order to restrain his sick impulses and not to scare you away, mentally prayed even to the damned Archons.

The blue-haired man kneels in front of you while you were sitting half-dry on the chair, he comfortably sat between your legs and thanks to his height, he leans towards your body on the chair, licks your areola with a tight movement, which causes a recoil between your already wet thighs, closing his lips he slightly sucks your nipple, pressing his finger on the second. You do not hold back a moan while inhaling, the sexual tension grows by the minute.

Next, your stomach is subject to attack, a weak spot for tickling, from which you twitch, trying to hold back involuntary laughter. The scientist takes your legs and puts them on his shoulders, looking into his eyes through his mask. You thought that it was impossible to blush even more than before? Well, it is very possible.

The heat burns your ears and cheeks. Incredible luck! you are wearing a skirt today… Yes, a skirt with gold inserts and patterns, quite detailed, in the style of Teyvat fashion. But today this skirt will be a provocation.

"What do you want to?…"

"To satisfy you," He enthusiastically turns his head and kisses your knee, not at all embarrassed to talk about what is happening.

You did not dare to answer, control is enough only to watch an interesting show under you. Dottore, having gone a little further with his lips along your limb, bites you, again with a hint of rudeness. Your nylon tights are running, what a bastard! They are expensive..! At the same moment you notice a clear and distinct reaction to what is happening on the scientist's trousers, it becomes somehow completely unbearable for you to sit and endure his.. attacks.

You offendedly let your right leg go from his shoulder, not having received its portion of kisses. The Doctor, not distracted from biting you, turns his gaze to the movement, but quickly turns around. You, looking at his groin, then at his mask, touch his erection with the toe of your foot, press lightly, and hear his sharp sigh. He lifts your pelvis and, taking you by the ankle, leans your foot against himself.

"Hmm, don't fool around, naughty girl" Having slightly come to his senses, the Doctor smiles. — "Come to me."

Of course, you lean over, it is clear why - even more kisses. The Harbinger, now with a clear intention, brazenly kisses your lips. His palm slides along the smooth fabric under your skirt, the hem of the skirt is already lifted due to the position. Now your thigh is crumpled by his long fingers, looking for the waistband of the tights. At the same time, Dottore presses his tongue on your lips, forcing you to open your mouth wider. A new vulgar gesture - the teeth are briefly outlined by the tongue, it moves towards yours. It strokes the roof of the mouth… For a second it seems to you that your husband's tongue is too long. Dottore has found the edge of your clothes, using his other hand he pulls them off you.

"You have a long tongue," you note out loud, already vaguely.

"Why do you think I talk so much?" — an object of interest opens up to your gaze… Archons…

Twice as long as average, together with the teeth it looks even slightly creepy, including unnatural. Your eyes widen, your cheeks are smothered with a blush, Dottore smirks and hides his dignity.

"Just genes"

"You never showed it before…" — You are shocked. What will happen now, Tsaritsa, have mercy…!

"Relax your muscles, just remember how it was the first time, haha.." — But still, the man is so calm and gentle, skillfully seasoning it with pepper of rudeness, that you cannot help but melt from excitement - it is impossible.

And Dottore keeps trying to pull your clothes off. Very intrusively. You are sprawled in a chair, led by your beloved, who, thanks to the position you have adopted, is still doing what he wanted. He is still on his knees, on the floor, between the tables, in an open laboratory, where one wrong move and an overturned flask can injure you both, He is going to satisfy you. What a shame, if someone comes in, you will not survive the shame!

His cold to the point of goosebumps hand, still elegantly covered with the fabric of the glove, touches you through your underwear. Strokes your vulva, slowly, viscously, torments, makes you almost fidget. He is handsome, damn elegant and smart, ideally knows anatomy and therefore understands perfectly what to do with you. Something in your lower abdomen is cramping from such thoughts, especially when he so dominantly and playfully pulls you towards him by your tie.

"Are you satisfied?" He whispers into your ear, you catch yourself thinking again that he sees your sensual gap and is pressing on it right now.

"Yes, but… That's not all, right?" — You insert a short, embarrassed answer, hug your lover's shoulders, he changes the position of his fingers on your external genitals - he puts his fingers on your clitoris, knowing the anatomy perfectly well, he instantly feels the organ.

"Hahaha… No, not all, darling" — His velvety and deep laughter reaches your ears, you involuntarily shrink in your chair.

"Wonderful, What an anatomy you have… Archons!" — He has such a tart whisper that butterflies fly in your stomach…

"You will do what I tell you, right?" —After a pause, you barely shake your head in agreement "Wonderful, my dear. Listen to elders, be a good girl,"

He exhales onto your skin, languidly, completely depravedly, — "How long do you think you'll last? Two? Three times?" — You sob pitifully into Dottore's shoulder, his dexterous fingers keep a clear and almost fast pace on your clitoris, and you are sensitive, especially because of trust. It appeared with the advent of experiments - after them He treated you carefully, honestly. He always felt sorry for you, all this is just for science, you help your beloved, you are ready to do anything for him. It's a pity, it seems so only in a fit of bright emotion.

"We will do everything so that you leave here on shaking legs, okay?" — Playfulness and craving in his tone, especially to warm you up. You feel the rush of pleasant sensation characteristic of an imminent orgasm. There was no need to say anything else, the first extravaganza hit you with a terrifying suddenness. Your fingers turned to stone, clutching the Doctor's robe, your breath caught, you barely breathe, receiving your well-deserved portion of all-consuming pleasure. You whine piteously, throwing your head back, listening to Dottore's approving hum.

What kind of reaction is this? Naturally, an orgasm that will overtake you too quickly to resist the feeling even a little. Dottore sees everything perfectly well and therefore, instead of brazenly interrupting your pleasure, he connects his long tongue, invading your warmth, making you literally jump on the chair, Dottore gently held your hips, forcing you to stay in place. After another thrust of his tongue inside you and massaging your clitoris - quickly brought you to the cherished climax.. You fell tiredly on the chair, throwing your head back.

"A successful and precise position of the fingers, foreplay and its continuation - the best mixture for getting an orgasm.. Don't you think so, darling?"

You should catch your breath for a minute, your partner patiently strokes your thighs, allowing this. He kisses somewhere behind the ear, since you are still hugging him. It's so strange, remembering the past, the end overtook you rarely in the company of a partner… Did the advantage of the profession work, or something else?

"Everything is fine?"

"Yeah… For some reason I feel so ashamed," - Ashamed.. It's because Dottore, during your work, said that sex and the caresses that come from it are disgusting. You generally thought that you would never get such a pastime from him, but fate decreed otherwise.

"No need to be ashamed. I am interested in watching you and participating in your satisfaction," - He cooed as straightforwardly and calmly as always.

"You are probably right. Oh, my leg is so cramped," - You smile embarrassedly and sit up straight, bending and unbending the mentioned part of the body.

"My poor girl, was I too hem, harsh with you?"

His charming voice and the same expression on his face.. And for some reason Dottore still doesn't get up from his knees, still sitting between your depravedly spread legs. You notice this and want to quickly cover your legs together, but Dottore's torso gets in the way.. He notices your nervousness, grins and slowly lifts the mask up.

"Is it okay for you to sit on the floor?" - You adjust your skirt, placing it on your knees.

..

"So we haven't finished our.. little experiment.." His smile is ingratiating, even creepy, he slightly tilts his head up, looking at you with a cloudy gaze, now you can clearly see his red eyes under the slightly raised beak-mask.

"In that case, why should I get up?"

@anantaru @hitomisuzuya @lavandulawrites @himasgod @neuvigroove @quimichi @rsventhesecondd @anemoswirlsmyheart @nil4everheartz @kujiba @genshingorlsrevengeance @shyentsfoundherink @lavandulawrites @ashyashylee @theoutcastwrites

PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE TELL ME IM NOT THE ONLY ONE