#craving them carnally but also with the heart

[koskela-knights]

Hnggg, I'm just so overwhelmed by them 😩 In the good sense. Like overflowing with excitement and love for the Koskela brothers like you wouldn't believe 💙✨

Like I just have to get it out in one way or another: writing fic, drabbles, random rambles, making sketches or taking screenshots and rewatching their ads on YT and saving them on my laptop <33

Call me an amateur the way I adore them 💙💙

[samodivaa]

permeated by jealously

Paring: Bucky x Reader

Summary: In your tight-fitting red dress, you look ravishing for the date with a Russian guy—but the moment you retort to Bucky in Russian, it begs to be ripped from your body.

Warnings: smut, angst, kitchen sex, rough/possessive, unprotected p in v, miscommunication Words: 4k

Bucky's veins are full of the serum, but at this moment, they are full with belladonna tincture, the substance of jealousy. Seeing you with another man, he speaks of Love in the past tense. The scene that plays in front of him—that guy coming to pick you up from the compound, is perfectly adapted to a temporal phenomenon: distinct, abrupt, framed, already a memory. For a split second you stare at each other, you smile at him ruefully. A fleeting, lasting moment for Bucky. Why do you even notice him? Seeing you happy, gives mixed colors to the air of the moment—he is lost in time, sleeping being his only lover.

Bucky wants to kiss you. Instead he puts his lips on the tumbler glass, pretending that it is you. His t-shirt is unbuttoned at the top, and he runs a hand through his hair before he puts the glass down on the kitchen counter—flashes of you in that dress that you wear for your date and the way it lifts your body up from a single look races through his head.

His cock jerks and he shakes his head, grinning as he stares down the bottle of vodka next to his cup.

And, for the first time in his innocent and confined life, he senses in himself a potential for a different corruption that takes his breath away. He doesn’t blame himself. He is a curious, wanting thing—finally, enlightened and free, but also lustful and carnal. But It stabs at him, almost like a physical pain, and he feels both deprived and angry, deprived because Bucky wishes to be with you and angry, because his own choices causes him misery. ----- “It is almost like a reverse nightmare, like when you wake up from a nightmare, you're so relieved. I just wake up into another nightmare."

"And what is that nightmare, Bucky?" He keeps his blue, lusterless eyes fixed on Natasha with a calm but warm and kindly expression in them as he thinks how to say it  "My love life” “Maybe you need to ask her on a date, that’s what Vladimir does”

“Vladimir? Oh , so it is not just 'that one guy' anymore?”  he says in a quiet voice, without a trace of irritation, with a note of the simplest curiosity, his lips quivering as a forced smile comes on to his face. Nat momentarily startles. Then she starts to laugh. “You’re jealous of him?”

He clenches his jaw. “I’m not jealous,” a note of personal affront creeps into his voice “I don’t like his name”  ----- You are on a date, having fun—but anxiety grabs his mind, it is self-perpetuating. Worrisome thoughts reproduce faster than rabbits, he is trying not to lose his balance. Not yet. Especially when the jealousy sets in. 

Bucky is conscious every moment in himself of many, many elements positively swarming in him, ah these, opposite elements. He knows that they have been swarming in him since you started going out with Vladimir and they are craving some outlet from him, but he doesn't let them, would not let them, purposely would not let them come out, because he believes there is nothing so self-destroying, and so despicable, as his jealousy. He tries to appear as a hard shell on the outside when you finally enter the kitchen at 1 am—while there is a runny mess on the inside as he tenses, waiting for you to say something, anything. When you near the sink, your fingers find the curve of the faucet, the metal cool beneath the touch. He turns around to lean against the counter as you pour a cup of cold water. Bucky stares hard at you, watching you take a long drink then he follows the flick of your tongue over your bottom lip. His heart stumbles a beat. He is in such an irritated frame of mind, because of your quietness that in rude and abrupt fashion he blurts out the words:    “You must love that dress”

He takes time persing down the length of your body as you take a step back, watching you press against the counter and then back up before locking on your eyes again. You are not wearing a bra and your nipples harden from having his eyes on you. Red, the front needlessly too scandalous—at least for Bucky. The dipping v lets him see the swelled sides of your breasts pushed up and together. Just to be sure, though, a golden necklace with a teardrop pearl at the end, letting it trail just over your cleavage.

  “I didn’t know that you notice what I am wearing when I go out”

You answer, trying to look as innocent as possible. The vindictive smile that stretches on your ruined lipstick sends shivers down Bucky’s spine—did you make out with the guy, maybe more than that? You look beautiful sitting there looking at him like a she-cat. All he has to do is look at you, and he lusts. He wants to take off that delectable dress and make love to you until you don't have the energy to go out with anyone else ever again.

  “You’ve worn it for the second time. For your date.”

His gaze drops from your eyes, to the swell of your chest. Your chest tightens and you bite your lip to hide the grin wanting to escape. You notice the disgust written on his face and you laugh coldly, gaze never leaving his buff frame. With the certainty that you have well and truly punished him for not asking you on a single date. The angry, feral part of you feels so close to the surface that you can almost scent its blood-clotted fur. You want to lick the scratches you’ve made on him. You want to scratch him until he breaks apart. You gulp down the rest of your water to ease the heat flaming across your skin. Then you lick your lips. His gaze tracks the movement. You think you stopped breathing.

  “His name is Vlad” 

An audacious expression plasters on his face as you sigh in irritation at Bucky, rolling your eyes. Bucky is still leaning against the counter and rests his metal hand on the countertop while sipping vodka from the mug in his other hand. A beautiful yet deadly ornament—vibranium has no business being as hot as it is on him.

A note of personal affront creeps into his voice “Vladimir, mhm”

  “What else have you noticed about me?” your grin becomes a touch leery, innocently cocking your head to the side.

  “Try me” he says softly.

  “Favorite color?” you ask, interrogatively.

  He chuckles “Red”

  “Favorite quote?”

Your brows lift, anticipation making your nerves sing. You are not sure what he is about to say, but you have the feeling that it will be the right one, your heart leaps at the thought.

  “Much unhappiness has come into the world because of bewilderment and things left unsaid”  he answers, this time winking at you  “I know everything about you, sweetheart”   he adds and you feel like smacking that stupid grin off his face.

His mind works well when it comes to his work as an avenger, hovering on hummingbird wings, but when it comes to you, especially when you purposely play with his jealousy, It finds a way to push through any seal of his mind, his expressions are always an array of masks he uses to cover it up his emotions—but now, it is all over his face, pure surrender, because he is affected and you can tell, he is staring impudently at you, awning for your response.

  “I prefer kotyonok. Vlad says that cognac and wine is all for the heart and that vodka is for the soul. If it's hurting real bad and you’ve never had vodka before”

His brows lift, because this does surprise him and his stomach tightens at that particular Russian word. His mouth curls into a small snarl at the thought of that stupid man calling you that. A pang of jealousy surges through him. The bad kind. The kind of longing that makes him wonder that there must be a natural comorbidity between sexual appetite and sexual jealousy, between the desire to fuck and the desire to kill. He clears his throat, his face souring before his mocking tone grates:

  “Looks like you know a thing or two about me, too”   

He is trying to not be overcome by emotion. Emotion is the art of breaking hearts, minds, and tongues―but jealousy is too much, even for Bucky. He settles back into himself, shaking whatever momentary emotion flitted over his face and replacing it with a confident aura that screams laid back and in control as he cages you to the counter, his flesh hand still holding his half full cup. Your throat gurgles slightly, looking at the bigger frame towering you through your lashes like the starved woman you are. You are overwhelmed by his bold move, leaving you both speechless and breathless, but even then it is important to identify the correct emotion here—lust, a longing that goes on a loop. You try to ignore his hard cock pressing against your thigh, your attention remains on his face. You feel drunk without a drink, your nerves tighten, making your muscles clench―this is going exactly how you want. You want him to kiss you. But you make sure to keep your facial features mundane and level.   “If you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to think you have a crush on me, Bucky” You also ignore the annoying, visible blush on your cheeks, he must have noticed it because his expression goes grim for a second before a surprised laugh almost breaks free from his lips, responding only by a clink of his tumbler against yours. Judging by the rumble that vibrates in his chest, he likes your reaction, though the noise ends on a cynical note. His blue eyes drop to your mouth, warmth pours through your body and you moisturize your lips as he presses his knee between your legs. Right against your clit—you breathe out, a wave of pleasure sliding down your spine while Bucky just tips his glass back the last of vodka, allowing the burn to sear his throat and warm his stomach—while casually grinding his leg slowly against you, creating a sensation that has heat winding through your core and shooting down your legs.   “Na zdorovie” (cheers) You smile venomously with a kind of joyous sigh, your arrogance in this moment makes you feel very confident. Up to this moment possessiveness has not been that much of a torment, now it suddenly gnaws at his heart. As in slow motion, he pulls back to put both glasses on the counter. He realizes that you do something to him. Every time. It’s your only detriment this past month. To step on his heart—to test his feelings for you, and his jealousy already has made him erupt like a volcano. He has never been jealous before he met you. It burns. Some nights, watching you go with other men on missions, even that drives him mad. 

   “You and that fucking mouth, kotyonok” His voice sounds ill-natured, bitter, politeness that would only be laughed at, restraining an unruly nature, wary of the ways that you are trying to provoke him, but his tone shifts at the last word. Voice warm and low. Intimate. You like it this way. You like the way it sounds and it makes you gasp.   “You like this, don’t you, pretty girl?” Your character has absolutely changed. It is an entirely new and hitherto unknown being who now stands and stares at him somewhat lovingly. There is evidently, he concludes, something at work here, some storm of the mind, some paroxysm of emotion which he won’t question. When you say nothing, his hands move to your waist, his vision already blurring. His bones fill up with foam, a languid fear, and a terrible desire. You let out a deep breath and can’t deny the strange elation you feel when you feel his hands, needing more of it, of his touch. Your pussy contracts as his hands reach around, gripping a handful of your ass, forcing you harder against his both body and leg. The grip is both bruising and possessive, controlling every movement.     “Oh, god-” You open your mouth, and Bucky dips down, catching the moan with his tongue. Satisfaction sparks in his irises and he tilts his head and keeps watching you with those fucking lethal eyes of his. Bucky gives a small grin, a fake one. The type that shows no teeth and barely lifts at the corners. You feel a very small spark to your ego, knowing you are getting a rise out of him. But all of the playfulness in the air drowns beneath the intensity of his thousand shades of blue dancing in his eyes as if he is peeling back your mental layers, his eyes looking down watching the bare length of thigh that shows through the slit in your dress. 

   “You and these dresses” he groans. Whether you want to admit it or not, physically, this man affects you more than anyone else ever has, and that causes panic to percolate through every nerve, you feel like you are losing control, but you don’t mind it. You feel vulnerable, exposed, almost at his mercy at this point. Jealousy isn't a pleasant quality, but his jealousy is combined with modesty and there's even something touching about the filthy words coming out of his mouth. He wants you—and finally, he is not afraid to both tell and show it.

   “Ya ne mogu vyrazit', kak sil'no ty menya zavodish'” (I can’t explain to you how much you turn me on) Your lips part and you swallow audibly while he has the most delicious visual of his dick slipping between them, your eyes staring up at him in surprise and that sweet tongue running along the shaft. He surges forward, your face is an inch from his when you breathe out, he breaths in before crossing the final, tiny gap and pressing his lips to yours. It is not a sweet kiss. It is hard, demanding, and possessive, borne out of weeks of pent-up frustration and tension. His mouth is hungry and insistent, his tongue probing your lips, asking for greater intimacy. You grant it, tongues swirling together, yours follow his when it retreats and tasting his in return. When he finally pulls back, he rests his hands on your hips, and stares into your eyes for a minute.

  “Tvoy zapakh s uma menya svodit” (your scent drives me crazy) 

He speaks without haste, controlling himself so well, yet there is something in his voice, determined and euphoric, resentful and insolently defiant. Passion smolders in his eyes as he traces the line of your clavicle with his index flesh finger, pausing for only a fraction of a second. And then you become aware of all the magnificent silk wrapping around your body, you have the feeling that you might drown in his eyes, his two drops of winter rain.   “I would love to make love to you, but not tonight”  He studies your face, pleading silently for your approval, searching for the smallest sign, the slightest movement of your brow, the vaguest reddening of your cheeks, the surprise of your eyes. At that moment, your soul clenches as well as your pussy. The hard dick still pressing into you distracts you from replying. You can feel your panties dampening. And your nipples are suddenly incredibly sensitive, aching as they pucker against the material of your dress. Your chest warms, desire winding like a rope around your core. You think you like Bucky this way. A smile shows on your face. This would be invisible to any, but the closest scrutiny—Bucky has noticed it and taken it for his sign. Then he leans forward and presses his lips once more, his sugar roughness, his possessiveness is what you need to finally feel.   “What did you do when you went out?”   “We had a few drinks. We danced.” you reply, thinking it best to speak the truth at once. His lip quivers slightly, forcing himself to seem calm, but Bucky’s eyes are sparkling irefully, there is no doubt in his expression the full success of your endeavors to make him even more detested.   “You danced with him?” he asks, with sudden vivacity.   “Well, he is my date” You murmur, trying to smooth away all disquietude on the subject, you sense a physical weakness by the violent, unequal throbbing of your own heart, which beats visibly and audibly under the excess of agitation—but before you can even manage to open your mouth again, his metal fingers grab the front of your gown and pull it until it tears, no matter how beautiful, it was meant for another man—perfect breast on display just for him, his cock pulses at the sight. His touch tickles you on his way up to your boobs, skirting over your ribs before fully cupping them in his palms. “Tony’s rules include no sex in the common areas” “Fuck the rules” he grits out, more animal than you have ever heard from a human. And then he gives you a smile that just seems so genuinely sweet—with the filthy touch of his hands, that unexpected warmth rushes through you. His thumbs run over the hardened peaks, making you moan and his dick is so stiff that he is worried that he might come.   “Ty moya” he says coolly. (you are mine)

   He leans in, his voice a rumble in your ear.   “Moy kotyonok” (my kitten)

Bucky moves, gripping the meat of your thighs before he spins you harshly around and bends you over the counter. Your walls are squelching around nothing as you feel him pull back, murmuring something in Russian, it is sinful—and pleasurable, drawing a muffled whimper from your mouth as you hear him tear apart your panties. You lick your lips, trying to quench the thirst for him. Your throat is dry as you hear his belt clattering noisily as he unbuckles it, popping the buttons of his jeans open, followed by the low purr of his zipper coming undone, he drifts his hands down his sides and hooks both thumbs into his jeans, sliding them and the boxers down his legs before pressing his body against yours until every inch of him melds into you one more. Bucky’s metal hand grips your chin and forces your head back while the other closes around your throat as his cock presses against you—chills slide up your spine, arousal sending a shot of adrenaline through your center as you feel pre-cum on your naval. Fuck, he is huge. There is a certain satisfaction in manhandling you into this position, the flesh arm tightens around your nape, holding you close to him. 

   "How about we make a deal? You wear dresses for me and I take you out on dates?” He rambles against your ear, tongue slipping out to taste you, just a little bit. His cock nudges around your ass cheeks, to your sleek mound until he gasps as he guides his sticky cockhead with his metal hand, gliding through your delicate folds and returning his cold grasp around your chin. He doesn’t say anything as he slips inside you with ease, your wetness sucking him in, making it easy for him to thrust into you until he buries himself to the hilt.     “Fuck, you feel good”

Bucky moans quietly as his eyes close, focusing on feeling your cunt wrapping around his dick for the first time. His lips stay silent, but he chatters with his fingertips, with the way his hands hold, the way he fucks you. You want to see his face, but you can only imagine how perfect he looks.

His expression is dreamy, floating. Soaked in pleasure—breathless, possessed, lost in the volcanic eruptions of fever, lust and delight. Your pussy cradles around his dick as he pounds into you from behind. It is an igniting feeling to have so much control over your body. It is sick and twisted, he has long learned to run from what he feels and wants, that's why he has nightmares. To deny is to invite madness. To accept is to control. And he needs to take control over something for once in his life. You. He has lost control over everything, even the places in his head. When your moans become too loud, his hand closes around your neck, slowly cutting into your skin while cutting off oxygen. It is more painful than lethal, but more erotic than painful. His growls erupt from his chest, the primal noise flooding your senses, making your insides clench around his length.

   “Come for me, drench my dick”

He whispers, fucking his cock against your cervix. He nibbles at your earlobe, loving the sharp intake of your breath as you struggle to breathe. Jealousy…teeth dragging against your skin, living marks. The primal lust, the sheer need to claim you, quickly finding ways to express his sacred hunger to you in animal passion. He snarls out gluttonous groans against your skin as you clench and seize, pounding you harder as your body contracts. Pleasure breaks out like a wildfire, reaching around your temples, shooting up and down your spine as his thrusts never falter, his mouth hangs open with bliss, his cock plunging into you with skin-slapping speed and he finally reaches his orgasm, cock spurting a thick dollop of cum with each throb.

Lust is the best of all the deadly sins, you realize as he pulls out and helps you go back on your shaky feet. It all happened too fast. You only wanted a kiss. You push his chest like you want him off of you, but your fingers have Bucky’s shirt clutched in them and he knows you are full of shit. You want him. 

   “I wish I could say I felt guilty for what I did. I don't.” The timbre of his voice goes into that low register that makes your insides curl in on themselves. You want that tongue to swipe your sex like licking the frosting off a cupcake. It is the sexual chemistry you want more of. It is electric. But guilt sets in. You are feeling torn between your commitment to building a relationship with Vlad while engaging with Bucky, in a way it feels like cheating. A part of you is hoping someone from the team would wake up and catch you, so you wouldn't have to live with this lie. But no one wakes up and in the silence that follows, you understand the nature of your new curse: you are going to get away with it. Your silence hurts him, his mouth tightens. But there are some wounds that he can heal only by deepening them and making them worse. And yet, sometimes facts are no more than pitiful consequences, Bucky knows how the public will perceive you if you are dating the former Winter Soldier. Seeing you standing there unresponsive makes him realize that silence has a sound—he knows that you regret sleeping with him. You are the people's favorite Avenger, the one everyone look up to with admiration and reverence—he is sure that you are thinking about it, but he understands. The blue moons in his eyes are glimmering with an emotion you can’t put his finger on—and he should be sad, but instead, he feels nothing. He feels a lot of nothing these days. He is empty, as if whatever makes him feel and hurt and laugh and love has been surgically removed, leaving him hollowed out like a shell. This is for your happy ever after, Vlad might be a stupid Russian, but he is at the very core of his existence—a real human. He turns around and paces the room, as if he can leave his regret, you, behind. But it cracks you as you see him walk away, leaving you naked like an ugly shadow made by himself. You have mistaken his lust for love. Regret. It turns into anger, into hatred. And where there is anger there is always pain underneath. You eventually come to understand that in harboring the anger, the bitterness and resentment towards Bucky who has hurt you, you are giving the reins of control over to him—maybe It’s time to finally say “yes” to being Vlad’s girlfriend.

[princesssarisa]

The Different Portrayals of Papageno in "The Magic Flute" (Die Zauberflöte)

Of all the characters in Mozart's The Magic Flute, Papageno is probably the one most open to interpretation by the singer and the stage director. As I've watched different performances of the opera, the funny bird-catcher seems almost like a different character in each version.

Every singer brings unique qualities to the role, but I've narrowed the most common portrayals down to four – which can be combined with each other too. I've seen baritones give excellent performances in every one of these portrayals, as well as in blends of them.

The Innocent

This is the sweetest portrayal of Papageno and the most endearingly simple-minded. He’s most often portrayed by younger baritones: the more baby-faced, the better. This uneducated, naïve young creature of the woods and mountains is almost a Peter Pan figure (without Peter Pan’s brashness or ruthlessness, though with a little of his boyish cockiness), who has never quite grown up. His childlike qualities include total earnestness as he asks questions with obvious answers, childlike quaking and whimpering in the face of danger, and childlike sobbing in moments of despair. Yet while his failure to “be a man” sometimes tries other people’s patience, no one except Monostatos can really dislike him. His friendly, cheerful, exuberant yet gentle demeanor is filled with natural charm, and the broad, sunny comedy of nearly all his scenes keeps the audience laughing, yet his boyish vulnerability is touching too, even when it’s played for laughs. Most endearing of all is his lively, wide-eyed, unabashed joy in all of life’s most simple pleasures. He might be an unsophisticated man-child, but whatever he lacks in maturity or wisdom he makes up for in zest for life and in warmth of heart.

The Peasant

This is a more mature, down-to-earth Papageno, who clearly represents the common man. He comes across as an average, hardy 28-year-old peasant, lifted straight out of the 18th century Austrian countryside into an exotic fairy tale world. Although uneducated and unrefined compared to Tamino, he’s not particularly naïve, but conveys sound working-class intelligence and practicality, and he often delivers his funny lines with a knowing, snarky wit. This makes him a kindred spirit to classic earthy “comic servant” characters like Sancho Panza or Leporello. His lustiness is also pronounced as he craves good food, alcohol, and female companionship: it’s clear that his desire for a Papagena is carnal, not just emotional. And despite all his fears and foibles, there’s an underlying stolidness to him; a sense of resilience that suits a man whose spent his life working hard to earn a humble living. Ultimately, he fails Sarastro’s tests not because he’s silly or weak, but because he’s just too ordinary for the grandly idealistic world of the priests. This makes him less broadly funny than some other Papagenos are, but it makes him easy for the audience to personally relate to, and easy for them to view as a friend too.

The Odd Duck

This is the most eccentric Papageno. His costume tends to be more wildly feathery than other Papagenos’ and make him look less human and more birdlike. He often has more birdlike mannerisms too: for example, making chirping sounds when he sees a pretty girl, or literally screeching in terror. But even if he’s portrayed as fully human, he’s defined by adorable quirkiness. In contrast to the staid dignity of the upper-class characters who surround him, he has puckish, squirrely energy, with little thought for dull things like “manners” or “social rules,” and his emotions always run free and high, sometimes causing funny melodramatics when he’s especially scared or distraught. Yet his joy in living is equally strong and unabashed, and for the audience, it’s infectious. Nor is there any restraint on his love of food, wine, and pretty girls, or on his playful and mischievous sense of humor. This free spirit is a true “child of nature,” who, like a wild bird, lives by his animal instincts: he doesn’t care what anyone else thinks of him, no matter how strange, silly, or inappropriate he seems by normal standards of society. He just does whatever he feels like doing, and the audience can’t help but love him for it.

The Sad Clown

This is the least comical Papageno, but no less endearing than the others. His costume tends to lack feathers and be drably colored, disheveled, and poor-looking. Nor is his demeanor as broadly cheerful as other Papagenos’, but more reserved, and as for his style of humor, he’s most akin to Charlie Chaplin’s Little Tramp. The audience laughs at his foibles and slapstick, but feels pity him as well, because he shows a full and realistic range of emotions, with a subtle yet distinct vein of melancholy. He makes us realize what an unlucky man Papageno really is, as he constantly fails other people’s expectations and is browbeaten by both the villains and the heroes alike (all except Pamina). The sense of loneliness he conveys is especially poignant: not only in his deep yearning for a Papagena, but because he grew up without parents, has no real friends (only social superiors, some kind, others less so), and has never known any form of love. This Papageno’s eventual suicide attempt seems much less ridiculous than usual: even though it’s still played partly for laughs, we can almost believe he might go through with it. When he finally finds his Papagena in the end, his happiness feels long overdue and well earned.

The Pecking Rooster

This Papageno portrayal is more of a subtype than an individual type: he can predominantly be either an Innocent, a Peasant, or a Sad Clown. But either way, he’s pricklier than other Papagenos, with more machismo and a little bit more of a temper. Like a rooster defending the henhouse, he feistily defends his own safety and comfort, and like the Cowardly Lion with his “Put ‘em up! Put ‘em up!” he tries (but fails) to mask his fears with “manly” pugnaciousness and pride. Expect this Papageno to posture exuberantly as he claims to have the strength of a giant, to puff himself up to scare Monostatos away, to be as stubborn as a mule in refusing to face each new danger, and to bicker with Tamino and the priests every step of the way. His anger at being constantly ordered around, dragged into unpleasant situations, and denied the reward he was promised (a bride) is loud and clear. Yet unlike his villainous counterpart Monostatos, he’s never consumed by his anger, but combines it with classic Papageno warmth and good humor. For that reason, audiences empathize with his frustration, and admire his proud efforts to stand up to the powers that frustrate him, even though he comically fails to thwart them.

Here are some examples of the different Papagenos from different filmed performances of the opera. (I'll add more as I see them.)

*William Workman (Hamburg, 1971): The Innocent.

*Håkan Hagegård (Ingmar Bergman film, 1975): The Innocent, with undertones of the Sad Clown.

*Benjamin Luxon (Glyndebourne, 1977): The Peasant, with traces of the Innocent and the Sad Clown.

*Christian Boesch (Salzburg, 1982): A blend of the Innocent, the Peasant, and the Pecking Rooster, with undertones of the Sad Clown.

*John Fulford (Sydney, 1986): The Peasant.

*Mikael Samuelson (Drottningholm, 1989): The Odd Duck, with the earthiness of the Peasant.

*Manfred Hemm (the Met, 1991): The Innocent.

*Detlef Roth (Paris, 2001): A blend of the Innocent, the Odd Duck, and the Pecking Rooster.

*Simon Keenlyside (Covent Garden, 2003): The Sad Clown.

*Christian Gehaher (Salzburg, 2006): A blend of the Peasant and the Pecking Rooster, with hints of the Odd Duck.

*Nathan Gunn (the Met, 2006): A blend of the Peasant and the Odd Duck, with traces of the Pecking Rooster.

*Markus Werba (the Met, 2017): A blend of the Innocent and the Peasant, with traces of the Pecking Rooster.

Meanwhile, in my gender-bent retelling, An Eternal Crown, I think Lorikeet is a cross between the Innocent and the Odd Duck, with a few undertones of the Sad Clown.

I'd be interested to learn which portrayal(s) @leporellian is using for the anthropomorphic cat Papageno in their Magic Flute-inspired novel Song of the Sky.

@ariel-seagull-wings, @tuttocenere, @vogelfanger1984, @thealmightyemprex, @thevampiricnihal, @cjbolan

[mrghostrat]

i wanna add to this post, but i don't wanna hijack with my personal take in the reblogs because it's so 100% valid on its own and this might derail it

i think in a grand scale/societal way, this is true, and one of the reasons ace rep is so important. we gotta add more ace content and flesh out the genre and show how fun and diverse it can be.

but i do wanna give a ~disclaimer~ i guess, since someone @'d my blog as an ace space, that yes i'm ace and love advocating for ace love, but i also enjoy the fuck out of smut and allo representations of the ineffables. i prefer to read them allo, honestly, but my personal reasons for it are very intentional and different to the screenshot above

i guess more than anything i wanted to post this as a warning, for anyone wanting to follow my blog for ace content, that here there be sex thtphtptthh

ig i like my fic to be easy to consume. fic is meant to be easy reading, bc we already know the story and the characters already, so we can jump straight to the dopamine. for me, the expressions of yearning hit me right in the chest, give me full body feels, and make me feel a bit like a rat smashing the cheese button over and over and over until i explode.

and when i say yearning, i'm including ace yearning in that. heart-ons as much as hard-ons, moments of near kisses and catching each other's eye across the room just as much as hands on thighs and carnal desire. but for the sake of easy reading, it is much easier to find allo scenes that hit that button, because there is more of it, because the stakes are higher (physically, anatomically), and a so-so written fic will still often manage to hit that dopamine button for me. but those non sexual moments usually have to be written really well -- or, really specifically -- for me to feel the same response from it.

so i'm personally just vibing with supply and demand. i want to reiterate that i think non sexual depictions of intimacy and love are just as interesting and just as exciting as sexual ones, but they can be harder to find, and harder to get right. i love ace ineffables and think that's much more in character honestly, but for the burst of feelings i crave from fic, i like the broader spectrum that sex positive and allo presents.

[saurongorthaur9]

The fact that there might be a chance, even a slim chance, of there being a Sauron/Galadriel kiss in ROP S2 has woken something up inside of me that doesn't want to go to sleep.

I keep telling myself that there's no way they would go that far, do something that shocking and drastic, that there's no way the teased "surprise kiss" is going to be them.

But to be fair, if you'd told me in summer of 2022 that the upcoming season was going to heavily feature Galadriel and Sauron in a relationship that could be read as partially romantic without a ton of imagination and would culminate with Sauron literally proposing to her (even if it is entirely politically motivated), I would have said there was absolutely no way. So I hesitate to say they wouldn't go a step further than they've already gone.

I also feel torn about whether I want there to be a kiss. On the one hand, I think it makes their bond more narratively strong and more Tolkienian to keep it at the cosmic connection level, with anything romantic that could be read into it kept at a subtext. I'm afraid a kiss could diminish the epic, cosmic struggle of two immense, powerful beings by bringing it down to something more tangible and carnal.

On the other hand, I've found myself caught in a craving for a Sauron/Galadriel kiss that I just can't shake.

Sauron was my romantic and sexual awakening as a kid who had just read The Silmarillion for the first time, over twenty years ago. He was the very first person I ever had a crush on, the first person who I ever fantasized about kissing. To this day, he's the only person I've ever had a steamy dream about.

I vividly remember reading my first Sauron romance fanfic (the gorgeous Heart's Blood by ChristineX, if anyone's interested), back when it was fairly difficult to find Sauron-centric stories or Sauron-as-a-protagonist fics. I remember how vindicated I felt that I wasn't alone in finding Sauron sexy and liking the idea of Sauron getting some kisses.

But never in my wildest dreams or thoughts did I ever ever ever think that one day I might possibly get an on-screen Sauron kiss in a major, professional live action production. I can't even fully articulate what that would mean to me. It's less about shipping and mostly about the intense level of vindication that I'm not crazy for having swooned and fantasized over Sauron for two thirds of my life. Seeing Sauron get a live action on-screen kiss would do things to me that I can't even articulate. Even thinking about it is doing things to me that I can't even articulate.

I'm trying really really hard not to get my hopes up, but I can't stop thinking WHAT IF.

[dark-and-kawaii]

Idk if I wanna be pinned under Lofn's brother or son more. Please stop making such beautiful characters

(please continue but also let me read about having them carnally. I'm begging)

Both?!?! Both is good ♡ ♡ ♡ This is incredible and I feel like I’m on cloud nine right now my god!!! I got you babes xoxo

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ Pairings: Original Male Characters x F!Reader

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ Content: NSFW - Good Fucking - Stretched Holes - Tenderness - One Fucks You Like A Princess - One Fucks You Like A Whore He Loves

⟡ ݁₊ . Zavrik: The one who strokes your hair as you get accustomed to his sheer size, “It's all right, darling. It's all right. That’s a good girl. You don't have to move yet. Let me take charge, just relax... and enjoy it. I won't hurt you, my love. Just lie still, that's all you have to do. I’ll take good care of you.”

And the second he kisses you, you're lost. Drowning in him. Losing yourself and becoming an extension of his pleasure and his passion. He kisses like a dying man. Kisses like you're his oxygen, like he's desperate for you. As if without you, he wouldn't exist.

Your heart, mind and body will never be safer than when you are with him.

⟡ ݁₊ . Aedric: The one who has his hand fisted in your hair, stretching your spasming little hole to the breaking point. He is the one who takes you, over and over until you’re sobbing his name.

And you will sob his name.

You are his, and he will remind you of that again and again and again, until his name is the only thing that you remember, the only thing that passes through your lips, the only thing that fills your mind, and the only thing you crave.

“That's it. Come for me. Say my name, and come for me, lovely. Let me hear how much you love this. How much you love my cock buried inside you. Don’t be shy, let me hear how sweet and dirty my girl is.” Don’t worry, he’ll hold close to him as your body trembles and your mind slips from your control, letting your body fall to his command.

Aedric loves you in his own way, and despite how rough he is you know there’s nothing to be afraid of when in his care. You are safe, and protected.

[darkhairedmenrule]

YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO its tony

man

would you be oh so kind as to make an

papa's x gn reader with fluff :)))))))))))

pretty please with gay men on top

Comfort time with the Papas

These are just little comfort headcanons that I came up with, this should be gn! reader because I don't mention any pronouns. I hope you like them Tony <3 All of these are romantic but if anyone wants a platonic or spicy version let me know. Please be gentle, this is my first Ghost fic. Enjoy!

Primo- With Primo, I imagine you two often peacefully coexist in his garden. Whether it be that he is teaching you how to garden and the differences in all of his plants, or you already know about gardening and he trusts you to help. These early mornings or evenings allow you both to just spend time together without having to fill the silence. You always make sure that he actually takes breaks and doesn't push himself too far. You guys only work for maybe an hour or so, nothing strenuous, and after you walk back to your shared rooms hand in hand. After you guys clean up, sharing sweet kisses or hugs depending on what you are comfortable with, he asks you if you want a drink. If you are a tea person, he makes you an absolutely lovely cup of tea ( from leaves that he grew himself, we love a girlboss). If you aren't a tea person he will make you anything that you want, even learn how to make your favorite drink. With your drinks, you cuddle either in bed with a good book or watch a movie that you both like.  All in all, you both enjoy a sweet calm evening after your long often hectic days. He always is generous with his affection, whether that be kisses and cuddling or letting you talk and being there for you physically and emotionally. Primo just wants his darling to be happy and healthy and will do anything to make that happen( even if you have to convince him to get a TV or any new technology in his room). He is simply grateful and honored that he gets to share these sweet moments with you and to let his heart be full of love and affection. Primo is a sweetheart and I just wanna kiss his forehead <3

Secondo- With Secondo, I imagine that he is used to filling his free time with carnal acts of all kinds, which is perfectly fine but we are not focusing on that today. I think that like his older brother, Secondo would crave domestic normalcy and would never pass it up. I imagine you found out about his hobby after he realized that you were interested in more than one night with him. I can see you finding his paintings and asking him if it would be okay if you joined him, and of course, he would want you to join him. He may be more stoic in some aspects than his brothers, but this man has so much affection to give you. Regardless of your skill level, he is going to treasure any and every painting you make with him. I can imagine him either keeping them in your shared room or creating a little gallery that he keeps on his phone( yes he has one but you might have to help him with it sometimes). After you guys have decided to finish painting one evening, you guys clean up and he offers to make you a drink. If you aren't a big fan of alcohol, he has different mocktails, Italian sodas, or anything else you would like. You two would probably cuddle up on the couch or in bed, either enjoying each other's company with a good book, listening to music, or maybe even a movie. Secondo is happy to share the evening with you in any way that you want. He simply just loves to bask in the sweet affection that you two share and remind himself that he deserves this love <3

Terzo- I imagine that quality time with Terzo can be many things. Like his older brother, he enjoys carnal acts, but also just existing together. I imagine that you two would spend some of your free time baking together. Terzo may be clumsy at times but he enjoys baking, especially if he has a personal taste tester. He would love to have you help him or just simply watch him enjoy his process. He loves to fill the time by asking you about your day, what you are excited or upset about, and anything that you would like to talk about. During all of it, he just has a sweet love drunk smile on his face. When whatever he was making is finally ready for you both to eat, he makes sure to give you the first bite, and he wants you to be honest about the taste, texture, and overall experience. He is extremely interested in your thoughts and loves to hear you in general. He always makes sure to take note of your criticism or praise so that if he ever recreates or remakes anything it is the same quality or better. After you two have shared your little treat, he likes to make you a hot chocolate. I know he might not seem like the type, but I know in my heart that he enjoys hot cocoa. Makes it from scratch every time and uses the same recipe that Primo used when he and Secondo were little. Adds any toppings that you like to yours and insist that he made it with love. You both cuddle and enjoy your delicious hot cocoa with either him reading you a book, you reading him one, enjoying some music, or a movie that you enjoy. He adores these evenings where you both can be yourselves, with no expectations or chores to do. You both just get to be close and love each other and know that you are cherished by your beloved Papa <3

Copia-  With Copia, I just have to mention his beloved rat babies. If you are in love with Copia I just imagine you spending the little downtime he allows himself to be with his sweet fur babies. You two are just sitting with them all, giving them the love, treats, and attention that each little cutie deserves. He loves this, he gets to not only decompress and relax with his Amore but he also gets to be with his beloved pets. The rats all have their personalities and love to run around you both, so happy that you are home. If you wear hoodies or =clothing with bigger pockets they love to crawl in and take little naps with their beloved parents because congratulations you are the co-parent to these little rats. After they have their food, cuddles, zoomies, and a few snacks they go back into their cage to rest and cuddle with each other. With your kids all in bed, you both get ready for bed yourselves. You either help Copia with his Papal paints if he hasn't already taken them off or maybe take a quick shower together or separately. Either way, when you both are ready to relax for the evening you grab some of Copia's beloved Juice boxes and relax in bed. Whether your evening ends with playing some video games, watching him play or you both playing, watching a movie, or just cuddling in bed before you sleep, Copia reminds you just how much he adores you. This is where he can let himself be Copia, not just Papa and he is so grateful that you see the real him. He loves to spend his evenings with his favorite person, all cuddled up and cozy in bed, knowing that he is loved and adored.<3

[mpreglover225]

Rodnell, a 7-month pregnant man with a round and protruding belly, sat confidently behind his sleek office desk overlooking the bustling city of New York. As the Vice President of his company, he was known for his professionalism and dedication to his work. However, today was going to be different. Today, he had a shocking announcement to make to his colleagues.

In a small meeting room filled with key staff members, Rodnell took a deep breath, his heart pounding with nervous excitement. His voice filled the room as he revealed the unimaginable truth. "I have an important announcement to make," he began, his voice steady but tinged with anticipation. "I am pregnant, and I will be going on a 9-month maternity leave."

Gasps filled the room as his colleagues exchanged bewildered glances. This was unexpected, to say the least. Rodnell's pregnancy, a taboo and unconventional concept, had caught everyone off guard.

As he scanned the room, his eyes locked with Jake, another Vice President of the company. Jake was not only Rodnell's coworker but also the father of his unborn child. They had decided to keep their relationship and impending parenthood a secret, fearing the potential repercussions in their professional lives.

Rodnell, determined to maintain the secrecy, continued his announcement. "I have decided to keep the identity of the baby's father confidential until a time when both the father and I feel comfortable sharing this information."

Whispers filled the room as his colleagues exchanged curious glances, their imaginations running wild. Rodnell's decision to keep the father's identity concealed only fueled their intrigue and speculation.

Chapter 2: The Tangled Web of Desires

As the days turned into weeks, Rodnell's pregnancy became more evident. His growing belly served as a constant reminder of the passionate affair he had shared with Jake, the man seated just a few feet away from him in the boardroom. Their secret rendezvous, filled with stolen kisses, forbidden touches, and intense desire, had brought them to this unexpected juncture.

Yet, as Rodnell navigated his professional life, the weight of secrecy bore down on his shoulders. The thrill of their hidden relationship mingled with the fear of exposure, creating a tantalizing tension that fueled their desire even further.

During late nights at the office, when the world was shrouded in darkness, Rodnell and Jake would steal moments of passion. The conference room became their sanctuary, where they succumbed to their carnal cravings, their bodies entwined in a dance of forbidden ecstasy. They reveled in the danger, the heightened intensity of their connection.

[deathbxnny]

I just have this carnal craving for HoHE!Elysia!Reader content for some reason (I still miss my best girl so much even though I have her and her full kit asdfghjkl), but anyways, this whole idea in my brain just stems from her final fight with Mei during chapter 31, where the fight is really just more of a dance (I'm a sucker for these skjskjskjs).

May I humbly request Jing Yuan n Blade just having a spar with their s/o like that, and maybe it ends with just them just slow dancing (or holding each other and gently swaying together) in their s/o's little starry world/domain (I don't remember what it's called forgib moi)? (I just love HoHE!Elysia ult sm asdfghjkl I also love your works very much btw, you are doing fabulous, friendo)

-----♡

A/N: Hello there Anon! So, I never got to this part of the story, because I couldn't get through that damned fight against Kalpas (I hate him) and decided to just quit the game there, before I experienced more heartbreak lmao- But either way, I absolutely love this idea and hope I can do it justice!<33

Content: Established relationship, mentions of reader and characters sparring, fluff, Elysia-like Reader, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns!

((Not fully proofread))

-----♡

》Jing Yuan

Jing Yuan was always very fascinated with your abilities. He could watch you use them all day, for hours on end, even if he has mountains of paperwork to complete. Your starry domain was his favourite part of your abilities. He was amazed by it, often finding himself zoning out whenever you fought enemies and forgetting what he was even there for.

So, on the rare days he wasn't working, you offered to spar with him. And who was he to ever deny you anything? He didn't have to go easy on you, even if he still did, as you were quite strong yourself and could easily defeat him if you tried. But you two didn't take it seriously and were playful instead.

Eventually, his strong hands caught your hips, pressing you close as he let out an airy, out of breath laugh. He gently swayed with you to a tune only you two could hear. Or was it the sound of your beating hearts? It didn't matter to him, as he pressed his head against yours and ended the sparring session with a dance under the stars.

-----♡

》Blade

Blade was too prideful to ever admit how unbelievably fascinated he was by you and your abilities. They were unique, otherworldly, divine even. Only you could be worthy of such strength and only he could ever be allowed to have you as a lover. It just made sense to him.

However, he was hesitant to spar you at first. It's not that he thought that you were weak or anything, but he was secretly afraid to hurt you. That you'd leave him, if he did. And you knew of his fear, which is why after some reassurance and gentle affection, he finally agreed to it. The sparring session was light and a little serious due to Blade's nature. But the way you moved with eachother was akin to a dance, one only you two could replicate.

Eventually, the sparring session came to a stop, his hand grabbing onto your waist, as the other grabbed onto your hand. He gave your wrist a kiss, his eyes gleaming under the starry skies of your domain, before you slowly swayed with him to a hum from your lips. It was a rare moment of softness from him, one only you would ever witness. And that's how it always will be.

-----♡

A/N: I hope this was alright! Thank you again for the wholesome request!<33

[nekomacheercaptain]

Kin’emon was one of the dilfs requested for the dilf event!

Kin'emon thinks his perving is going unnoticed by you, and as time goes on and he doesn’t make a move, you get tired of it. Time to take matters into your own hands!

I took some liberty and made the character chubby 🫶

Pairing: chubby! female reader x "Foxfire" Kin’emon

Rating: explicit mature content (18+), NSFW

Word count: 2K

Content: female reader, chubby reader, size difference, fingering, vaginal penetration, bathtub sex, makeout session, Kin'emon gets tired in water

Kin’emon was a lot of things. Courage, strength and loyalty being his most darling qualities. But gods… discretion was not one of them. His eyes had found a grace amidst hell, a flash of heaven each time you came around a corner. And he should have felt guilty about the sins clustering his mind. But when you walked by and smiled at him like everything was okay with the world, how could he not? And, well, he might have stared at something other than your smile as well… but you would never notice that! Kin’emon is sure of his abilities to keep a poker face and plans in check! Everything is always carefully thought out, of course! You would never know of his desire for you.

Another quality that drew you to him was what a silly man he was. Of course you knew, and were patiently waiting for him to make the first move. However, after each passing day of disappointment of your guest on board only drooling over and ogling you, the matter seemed to fall into your own hands. A little more cleavage and thighs on display were sights the poor samurai was not ready for, perving out with the cook and musician of your fellow Strawhats.

To fulfill your wish, it demands sacrifice.

You just had to ignore Sanji and Brook also getting something out of your seducing, the goal being to get Kin’emon alone. And boy were you happy when out of everybody accidentally walking in on you in the bath as you undressed, it was the samurai. Wide spread eyes, slack jaw hanging open and crimson cheeks; such a handsome look on his face, and you felt yourself get excited.

“I- my apologies!” his words contradicted his actions, his eyes scanning over your bare back and hips littered with stretch marks, showing no sign of exiting the room on his own accord. His eyes feasted on your body as you turned slightly towards him, a small, mean towel the only thing keeping your breasts and sex from entering his memory. You just had to get him to close the door, and your craving from him could be fulfilled.

“Don't look at me like that unless you intend to do something about it,” your voice was low, but clear, and he understood your command as you smiled at him in a way that made his body ache, “finish what you start, Kin'emon”.

Kin’emon gaped at you, a ferocious blush creeping up his neck and ears before he shut the door with an accidental slam, but neither of you cared. The samurai came to you in long, quick strides before falling to his knees, wanting to face you on equal height. And even then he still towered over you, his broad frame dwarfing you in comparison. Words wouldn’t come forth, but they weren’t needed by the way his fingers shakily reached for the towel to discard it like a dirty washcloth of no use anymore. The sight of his eyes softening and his chest heave when he finally saw you in all of your glory was enough to make your core knot in carnal need.

Huge calloused hands carefully and exploringly kneaded your breasts, causing you to gasp at how they covered most of your torso. And how good his touch felt treasuring your skin. His eyes looked down at your chest, still not convinced this could somehow be reality, but when your lips pressed softly against his, his mind went blank. Through the blood pumping loudly through his body, like his heart was suddenly in his ears, he could barely hear you giggle against him at his apprehensiveness.

“You can be rougher with them, if you want to,” your small hands placed themselves over his large ones, encouraging him to grope harder, your lips moving smoothly against his like velvet.

He could only gulp in response, showing you how well he took commands when his palms rubbed harder over your mounds, creating a delicious friction over your nipples. He breathed in the small sigh that fell past your lips at his touch. The knot in your stomach grew more impatient, more needy, and you diligently guided one of his hands towards your sex, smiling when he inhaled sharply against you.

“Are-are you sure?” with a slight stutter he asked for your consent, and kissed you harder when you gave him an enthusiastic yes.

Your lips continued to envelope each other in a warm embrace that quickly grew clumsy and passionate, teeth threatening to clash together as your tongues were eager to explore more of each other. He groaned when your heat was on his fingers, stroking you softly through your folds, obvious inexperience in his touch. And despite his lack of expertise his thick and long fingers felt heavenly as they dragged softly through your slit, and with a hint of luck they also made you moan loudly as they brushed over your clit.

Your hands rested on his heaving chest while your kiss grew sloppy and loud, drool escaping the corners of your mouth as you pushed yourself against his hand begging for more friction. And the samurai happily obliged to your non-verbal wish, pressing his digits harder against you while sliding them back and forth, selfish in the way he got addicted to your sounds. Kin’emon pushed you lightly against the edge of the bathtub, making you take a seat with your legs spread wide, balancing yourself with your hands around his shoulders. With the new angle he dared to guide one of his digits into your entrance, feeling your slick coat him as he pushed deeper into your tight, warm cunt. 

Your lips left his shortly with a loud gasp and pull of his hair, automatically bucking your hips against his palm, revealing just how desperately you needed him. 

The two of you continued to devour the other until your walls spasmed on the three thick, long fingers pumping into your squelching, wet pussy, only pulling out when you almost fell into the bath because of the near overstimulation. You gave him a small smile as your bliss buzzed throughout your body while you calmed down.

“I didn’t know Samurai could do that,” you teased, and his cheeks went red, “but we’re not finished yet, Kin, are we?”.

At your words and the small bite of your lips made his eyes widen as your own trailed down his kimono to see a very sizeable tent greeting your hungry gaze.

“We should tidy up a bit, don’t you think?” you smirked and did a small nod backwards to the bath, water already nice and hot. And just as he always did when he didn’t know what to say, he made you laugh.

“Yes, of course! It’s important to stay clean during such intimate matters!” 

He wasn’t a man known for his sweet-talk or seduction, but the way he could always make you laugh so easily was better than any dirty-talk you could ever want. You went into the hot water and drenched yourself, droplets falling down your face and skin shining from the soap. And in the blink of an eye, and what sure had to be a world record for taking off a kimono so fast, he was naked too, his cock finally revealed to you. It hung proud and heavy, and if you were honest; it both impressed and intimidated you at the same time, no size you had ever seen before could compare. You tilted your head in excitement and swallowed at the thought that ran through your mind as you looked at your own forearm before looking back to him. The only thing that was close in comparison.

“Is it okay with you in here? Or will you get too tired?” you leaned back against the wall, looking up at him with half-lidded eyes still holding that sweet post-orgasmic bliss.

“Y-yes!”

And you chuckled at his direct, though flustered, response.

“Then take a seat, I think it’s only fair I get to treat you now” 

It didn’t take long before his long limbs carried him into the bath, quickly drained of energy as he sat down, submerged in water. Well, because of his size only his legs and some of his hips were submerged in the seat against the wall, but his size was to your advantage in this situation. You just needed him to lean back a little for you to do your work. With the water’s effect and your small hands pushing at his chest, he easily fell back, and you were free to climb (yes, climb) his lap, his legs easily supporting your weight as you smiled down at him.

Should you have felt a little bad about the water draining his energy? Yeah. But when he groaned as you put your weight on his cock and he could feel your slick-coated pussy against him, you didn’t care. Grinding against him, your hands could feel the muscles beneath your hands as you explored his torso where you could reach, and his own hands worshiped your voluptuous thighs before they found comfort in the soft and doughy flesh of your hips. With eyes barely open he saw how the fat on your body jiggled so deliciously at your movements, your breasts hypnotizing him whenever you leaned forward. Had he reached paradise? Oh why couldn’t he stay like this forever?

With a lift of your hips, you stared at the panting man while guiding his pulsing cock to your entrance, with a hope you could at least take some of him, the tip alone proving to be a challenge for you. You couldn’t even form a single word once you felt his massive size stretch your walls. And neither could he as he took in the feel of you, even if it was just a little. Your hands needed something to keep busy with, leaving marks on his chest as you dug your nails into his skin while moaning and groaning above him. The sight of you already exasperated knocked the breath out of his chest, his hands the only thing keeping your weight from impaling you even further.

“Fuck, I- Kin, I can’t take all,” you managed to whimper out from above as you attempted to inch more of him into you, but stopping once the stretch became too painful.

Of course you couldn’t. He is 5 cm short of 3 meters for goodness sake.

Kin’emon looked down at where your bodies met and saw that you hadn’t even gotten halfway down, and he smiled while his thumbs soothed over the stretch marks trailing down your stomach to your hips, “You’re doing perfect, darling”.

His words and the sudden name of affection melted you, and you started a small rhythm up and down the part of him that you did manage to get inside of you, making moans and grunts erupt from the giant below. Already sensitive from his earlier actions, it didn’t take long before a string tightened inside of your core, the samurai’s cock rubbing deliciously against your walls. Drool escaped from the corner of your mouth while it hung open as a chorus of moans, whimpers and mewls fell past your lips, Kin’emon drinking every sound you made. Every sensation you made, and the view of your breasts jiggling at your desperate bouncing on his lap - it was all to much for the samurai with no energy to spare, the thought of warning you before he came didn’t cross his mind.

When he came, he threw his head backwards into the wall with a small call of your name as you felt his cock pulse inside of you, hot cum oozing out of your pussy and down his length. You gasped loudly when you pulled yourself off of his length, before laying your head on his warm chest listening to his heart pump loudly. 

Maybe you had to add a few things to the list of qualities you admired in him…

I fucking love Kin'emon, although he'd be a little awkward lmao but that's just cute tbh

Tags: @unsuretater-simp @standfucker @mamaalpha @zoros-sheath @benkeibear @wurm-food @owlight @icy-spicy

If you want to join my taglist, you can find it here!

[cosmicwhoresimpingismyliving]

POV

It’s Valentine’s Day

The farmer is singing along to wheatus’s Teenage dirtbag, whilst they prepared a Valentine’s Day movie night in with Homemade Pizza & Pepper poppers for the pair of them. Shane walks in on them but they don’t notice him until they hear him singing the part ‘I got two tickets to iron maiden baby, Come with me Friday, don't say maybe. I'm just a teenage dirtbag, baby, like you…’ They slowly turn around to face him they were stood in a flour covered apron with the pizza base shaped out into a large circle, the farmer was just about to add the toppings to the pizza. They gave him a loving heart warming smile, utterly melting at not only the sight of their beloved partner Shane but hearing him singing along to a cherished song of theirs, definitely makes them so giddy & weak in the knees. The Farmer shuffled over to Shane wrapping their arms around him in a tight loving embrace, peppering his face with kisses. The farmers hands slowly lowered from around Shane’s neck, slowly moving to caress Shane’s cheek. Feeling his stumble against their thumb, not minding it one bit, they loved his five o’clock shadow, it suited him. Both the farmer & Shane stared lovingly at one another, their hearts quickened at the sight of one another. They both wanted to ravish each other in a tender loving kiss but they waited for the other to make the first move. Although they both loved each other very much they both had the same anxious thought process. They both overthought almost everything, it was a bad habit that they both were trying to get better at. The pair of them both leaned in for a kiss but due to the slight height difference between the farmer & shane, it didn’t end so well for the both of them. The two of them being impatient & just wanting to make out with each other lovingly & carnally at the same time resulted in bumping their heads together. It was painful but they both scrambled to kiss each other.

——— Highly suggestive smut below ———

Shane ended up pulling the farmer close to him by the hand, holding it tenderly & lovingly in his grasp close to his chest, his other hand gently resting under the farmers chin, nudging their head up so their eyes meet. This time taking it slowly, even though they were both hungry for each others lips. The farmer felt themselves blushing hard, their cheeks were glowing a tinge of pinky red, their eyes slightly adverted from Shane’s. They bite their lip timidly, their eyes returned to his gaze. No words uttered between them, Shane smirked softly, before leaning in closer to you, lips almost touching, the pair of them both closed their eyes as Shane, gently teased the farmer in a playful loving way by ghostly dragging his lips across theirs. The farmer gasps softly at the sensation. Craving for their lips to just crash against each other in a heated passionate frenzy. Shane was a tease, he couldn’t help himself. Shane knew he too wanted to get into a messy heated kiss but he also wanted to hear the farmer, beg a little. Shane lowered his head, pressing it into the crook of the farmers neck, breathing in their scent. He knew he had to pace himself control himself, he couldn’t let his urges & desires ruin this. He slowly left soft gentle kisses against their neck. The farmer, trembled slightly, their breath hitched upon the contact of his lips against their neck. He knew their neck was their weak spot, they would agree to just about anything. However, he would always double check with them that they were sure they wanted to go ahead with whatever was asked. They both wanted to make sure that they were both okay with what was asked & agreed on using safe words or triple tapping their thigh to signal they wanted to stop. Consent was everything, it was sexy. They would never do anything to hurt one another & if things got too much for either one they both would take the time to talk it out, cuddle & clean up. Aftercare was highly important to the both of them. Shane slowly deepened his kisses against the farmers neck, occasionally dragging his tongue along their neck. This really made the farmer weak to their knees, they were trembling, their free hand scrambled to find something to grab a hold of, cling too. They placed their trembling hand onto his shoulder, gripping it tightly. They didn’t utter a word but Shane could hear them attempting to suppress their whimpers, their tiny little moans. ❛Cmon now pumpkin, don’t be shy…Let daddy hear those pretty little moans spill from those pretty lips of yours. It’s just the two of us love…❜ Shane spoke in a soft tone of voice. The farmer in all honesty was rather shy, Shane was their first serious relationship, their first serious partner. They didn’t want to mess up this relationship they had with Shane.

[oceanlipgloss]

TEETH

BEELZEBUB.

+ warnings: suggestive themes.

+ my mc is the heroine, so the pronouns are feminine.

Fire whirled in his guts.

She had shyly bitten her lip, and he hadn't known where to look. Should he stare at the imperfect dollop of cream at the corner of her mouth, or admire the way her perfect teeth pressed down on soft flesh?

He remembered that night in the kitchen very well. He remembered how she had looked even better. It made his stomach hurt just to think about that, but he still closed his eyes and feasted on the memory.

Her lips were glossy, candied apples glazed not with sugar only, but also honey. They had to taste so sweet too, right? Sweeter than anything he'd ever had...

Dazed as he was, he couldn't quite think back then. He had felt like he was going mad. How could he not have?

His body had burned, burned, burned. The world was melting off from the heat, like soft serve. Pots and pans were melding together while spoons and forks trickled in threads of shiny metal.

And it was crazy, the way his provoked heart had hammered. His broad chest was heaving. The air felt hot in his flapping lungs. None of his shallow breaths were enough.

Oh, but what about the urges that had ravaged him? They were chomping generous helpings out of his brain. Would his brothers have commented on how that predicament might have made him a true meathead?

Still, he was painfully aware of how his violet gaze wandered like a pantry-lost ant—but he couldn't stop looking at her. Stubborn eyeballs had went round and round and back to her the minute he forced them to lock on the burnt caramel floor.

Had it even been possible to resist?

She was a dessert straight out of his dreams or heaven's oven, covered in cream drops from head to toe.

...a dessert he couldn't sink his teeth into, though.

The solid muscles of his blazing abdomen tensed. Cobalt blue fabric cracked into an unironed mess, crumpling in his big hand.

Trouble was really, truly cooking. Really.

His face was on fire and his body was on fire and his entire existence was on fire, and he couldn't even keep his eyes off her.

He couldn't take her into his arms and steal the tiniest bite even though at that moment—with ravenous desires gripping him and all—he felt like the incarnate of gluttony more than he ever had before. The sin boiled his blood and seared his veins.

He was hungry, hungry, hungry. Starving. Famished. He was all those things, and this was too cruel, too cruel, too cruel. Much too cruel.

How was he expected to polish off those cravings—deliciously carnal as they were—and stand his ground in the face of the only woman he had ever loved, when all he wanted was to swallow her whole?

How was that fair, when whipped cream lolled on her figure and made her beauty even more delectable?

All he wanted was a nibble. He would promise to try not to be insatiable. He really would. So, please...pretty please, with a cherry on top.

Just a crumb.

Her cheeks were strawberry-red, but she had summoned some strength. “Can you get it off for me?”

The delicate finger had pointed at a corner. Oh no, oh no, oh no. She was actually gesturing at that corner. The edge of her lips.

That was when his heart began to pound as it had then—so fast it could render him dead—albeit how he was currently laying in bed.

At the moment, his legs were under the quilt, not moving towards her alone as if they had grown a mind of their very own.

His mouth wasn't on hers, tongue smearing sugary cream into her parted lips.

His lip wasn't between her teeth.

So...why did he suddenly taste something just as sweet?

+note: inspired by MC's interaction with Beel while he was under the influence of Gold Hellfire Newt Syrup, a powerful aphrodisiac.

+ MASTERLIST

+ AO3 POST

©𝙤𝙘𝙚𝙖𝙣𝙡𝙞𝙥𝙜𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙨

[giuliettagaltieri]

Masterlist

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

 K. Bakugō • E. Jaeger • M. O’Hara • S. Gojō • N. Zen’in

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Gojō Satoru

♡ A River of Honey

Synopsis: Navigating through life with your husband and son who both seemed to have developed an appetite for something only you can provide.

Word Count: 1142

♡ Where the Blue Roses Grow

Series Synopsis: Snippets from the life of Gojō Satoru and yours.  Where the two of you journey on a path that was predetermined for you, with hearts bruised and unforeseen emotions blossoming.

Chapter Count: 9

Miguel O’Hara

♡ Project: Galatea

Synopsis: Allowing you sentience made things more complicated between you and Miguel.  But Peter Parker from Earth-199999 decides to take on an unfinished impossible project of his late mentor, and possibly bring you and Miguel back together.

Word Count: 6218 

♡ Project: Pandora

Synopsis: You are experiencing things for the first time and you can’t wait to explore what the multiverse has to offer, but for now, you’ll start with a messy college dorm room.

Word Count: 2174 

♡ Project: Eros

Synopsis: It does not feel the same without your wings and halo and you turn to science to help you gain them back.  But despite your angelic appearance, you find yourself allured by the weakness and carnality of the flesh.

Word Count: 5435

Eren Jaeger

♡ Sparkly Pink Skirt

Synopsis: When you are head over heels for Eren since high school, he finds it difficult to take in when you start to avoid him.

Word Count: 2586 

♡ Be Careful Not to Spill

Synopsis: Eren does not agree with the euthanasia plan and he will show them, with a little help from you.

Word Count: 2149

♡ Home is Where You Are

Synopsis: As Eren’s past comes to pay him a visit, you come to realize that love can come in all shapes.

Word Count: 1526

♡ Just Kiss Her Already

Synopsis: Craving for academic validation, you find an unexpected challenger who might have hurt your feelings, just a bit.

Word Count: 1724

♡ Kruger and Vixen

Synopsis: Having a love-hate relationship is fun until Eren messes it up, driving you away.

Word Count: 7077

♡ Number One Fan 

Synopsis: You have always been there to cheer him on, if only he would look at you the same way you look at him.  But whho are you compared to the all too perfect Mikasa?

Word Count: 5496

♡ Cherry Flavored Kisses

Synopsis: The life as Eren Jaeger’s girl fascinated you, but it was nothing compared to the fascination you feel for the man, himself.  He could be nice if he wanted.  But nothing is as bittersweet as a love unrequited.

Word Count: 5862

♡ Doctor’s Order

Synopsis: You could not make your crush on Dr. Eren Jaeger any more obvious.  And even though you can tolerate his usual cold demeanor, you also know when to draw the line.  1 of 3.

Word Count: 1792

♡ Progress Notes

Synopsis: You are having fun, trying new things and meeting other people while Eren disproves the saying, “Out of sight, out of mind.”  2 of 3.

Word Count: 1370

♡ Care Plan

Synopsis: You’re back from your trip and a certain surgeon finds it difficult to not be in the receiving end of your undivided attention.  3 of 3.

Word Count: 1269

♡ Road Rage & Malibu Barbie

Synopsis: You may look like a barbie doll who got lost on her way back to her dreamhouse but Eren never fails to break your front quite often than you like

Word Count: 2292

Bakugou Katsuki

♡ At Daybreak

Synopsis: Yesterday's rejection made an awkward morning more awkward.  Mix in a ghost and a cookie jar, this morning is bound to be interesting.  Who knew that the Bakugou Katsuki knows how to tease girls?

Word count: 1401

♡ Hero Too

Synopsis: Being a hero means so much more than just the career that Bakugou chose and you wanted to prove that to him and a series of unfortunate events might just let that happen, because dammit! You’re a hero too!

Word Count: 3,553

♡ Still Jealous

Synopsis: Bakugou tries his best to be a good boyfriend when you get hit with a jealousy quirk.  And when cuddles don't work, leave it to Bakugou to come up with other ways to help.

Words: 712

♡ You call Bakugou “pretty”

♡ Manga omake

Naoya Zen’in

Coming This Summer

[bloodyknucklesforme]

Maybe I'm Afraid of You | Carnal XI

Carnal(adjective) : relating to or given to crude bodily pleasures and appetites

Simon was born with what his father called 'The Curse'. A wanton craving for taboo meat. Since meeting the similarly cursed Johnny, the two had formed a bond. They didn't just fight together, they ate together, slept together, and shared everything.

When a favor to Price reveals another cursed person, Simon worries she could destroy everything.

Masterpost

CW: cannibalism, gore, parental abuse

This is very much a horror fic mostly based around the films Raw (2017) and Bones and All (2022), if you sit through those you should be good here. This is my first horror fic.

Chapter Title Credit: Bite the Hand - Boygenius

Nina had always been good about texting or calling him back. Always within an hour if she wasn’t asleep. He’d been talking to her more than normal since the Arthur incident. His car had been found but not his body.

No mention of Nina in any of the articles. Seems he never told anyone about her. His parents seemed content in blaming anyone not English for his disappearance. Their lack of closure didn’t weigh on his heart.

The link to the house’s camera feed did weigh on him. He’d resisted up until this point. It was a last resort. He couldn’t invade her privacy like that. She’d never forgive him. 

He tried to understand her. Anyone would have gone a bit off living in that house with a father like that. They never discussed any rules for her response time. She wasn’t one of his men whom he could order around. She didn’t owe him. 

Yet one hour turned to three and then eight and then twelve and sixteen. 

He sat in his office, cigar in hand. His cursor hovered over the icon.

“Just click it, sign in and you’ll have full access to the cameras,” Gaz said, handing him a slip of paper with the log in. “They’re already labeled by room but you can also see all of them at once.”

He called again.

“Sorry, I missed your call John. Leave a message or text me. I’ll call you back soon.” There was a high pitched beep as the recording started. He was the only one who called her so she personalized her voicemail for him. He didn’t leave another message. 

It took a moment for the cameras to load up. He didn’t see her. The bedroom was empty, the living room was empty, the dining room empty, the kitchen…

There was blood everywhere. On the floor, on the butcher block and leading in from the front and out the back. He dropped his cigar into the ashtray on his desk. He reversed the footage. 

A body, Nina was dragging it from the kitchen and out the back door. It was mutilated. He went back further. It had been resting on the butcher block. Further back. 

Simon walked in. What the bloody hell was Simon doing there? He took food out of a pan on the stove, ignoring the body entirely. John followed him through the cameras. 

The foyer was covered in blood. He reversed till the night before. There wasn't a sound. He watched Nina fly down the stairs and out the front door. She came back in, a body in her arms. 

MacTavish. 

They fell onto the floor and she flipped him over. He was bleeding. Price couldn’t make it out very well but it looked like he was stabbed, the knife still in his side. Nina was trying to stop the bleeding. She looked terrified. 

Simon ran in, took charge of everything. MacTavish seemed stable and they moved him. Simon appeared again and dragged a different body through the house. 

Price shut his laptop. 

He called MacTavish and then Simon. He called Nina again. 

He texted Nina one last time.

“I’m coming over”

A thirty minute drive gave him time to think. He grabbed a rifle just in case. 

He never should have brought the boys into this. He cursed himself not just handling it on his own. He could have protected her better. Protected her from them, from herself.

“I’ve given up on trying to help her myself.”

John knew it was strange for him to be so protective of her. They had no blood ties and  Godfather was title she’d bestowed on him sometime after her father’s suicide. 

She had endeared herself to him over the years. Many dinners at her father’s table with the rest of the unit. She was never invited to these dinners, always eating beforehand or at the small table in the kitchen. 

She’d watch from the top of the stairs as they moved to the sitting room to smoke and drink. He was the only one to stand in the foyer and talk to her. She was funny and always read any book he recommended. He guessed she didn’t have many friends. 

She was always a little strange, looking at him like they were two different species. Big brown eyes flicking between him and the archway to the sitting room. He quickly learned she was listening and watching for her father. The one arm chair would creak and she’d pick up her skirt and slink away without making a sound. He missed her when William sent her away to school. A fancy boarding school run by nuns. They weren’t Catholic but it made more sense when John heard about how strict it was. They still rapped rulers on the girls' knuckles for talking in class. 

William had invited the unit to his house for another dinner. A regular celebration anytime one of them was promoted. They’d all stay at an inn in town and the next morning set off pheasant hunting. William still complained about the fox hunting laws. The house was always quiet but it seemed quieter without Nina. 

There was the sound of gravel crackling as a car pulled into the driveway.  They all stopped and looked at each other, no one was missing from the table. Banging on the door, almost as loud as the thunder outside. William waved it off.

“Ignore it. Anyone worth answering should know it's rude to visit during dinner.”

More banging, two fists on the wood. 

“Let me in! Dad! LET ME IN!”

 John was closest so he stood up to answer.

Nina was there, still in her tartan skirt, navy sweater and brown loafers, soaking wet to the bone. She shoved past him. 

“Are you all too drunk to answer the phone?” She asked angrily. 

“Nina, go upstairs.”There was only one rule in that house and that was not to embarrass her father and she had done just that.

“I need to pay the cabbie.” She snapped, dripping onto the carpet. John fished his wallet out and went outside. He gave the man a stack of pounds, more than covering the cost, and grabbed her suitcase out of the back. 

There was arguing coming from the kitchen when he came back inside. A trail of wet patches leading from the foyer and through the dining room into the kitchen. The rest of the men sat awkwardly at the table. William was gone. John went to take his seat again, it wasn’t his business.

There was the clattering of chairs. William screamed at her followed by Nina yelping in pain. John jumped up and rushed in. 

Nina was on the floor, clutching her face, mouth bloodied. William’s arm was bleeding, in his hand was his belt. They stared at each other like two predators about to lunge at each other again. 

William was seething in a way John had only seen on the battlefield. He moved before John could react, striking Nina’s arm with the belt. She flinched, turning to shield her arm and face and he struck her side. John grabbed his arm.

“William, stop!” He put himself between them. 

“Get her out of my sight, John. Now.” He pulled his arm away and turned his back to them. John knelt and hooked his arms under Nina’s and pulled her up. “Not through the dining room!”

She was shaking out of anger, he could tell from how she stared at her father’s back. He took her upstairs through the servants' staircase. 

“Let me look at ya,” He said, once he sat her down on her bed. There were bruises on her face, arm and side. Her lips were bloodied but she had no cuts. He ignored it for the time and got her a washcloth. “I’ll get your stuff and some food. Just stay here.”

He wasn’t going to leave her there. If he wasn’t his superior, John might have beat him with that belt. 

Everyone was leaving as he headed downstairs, William apologizing at the door. 

“She’s very ill. A seizure disorder. She gets disoriented and very frightened, and doesn't know where she is. Her mother suffered from the same. I apologize.”

John stood on the stairs till the last man left and William shut the door.

“She doesn’t have seizures,” he said.

“She has whatever I say she has.” William turned to glare at him. “She fucking bit me, John. She can’t stay here.”

“She can stay with me.”

“No.”

“William, she can’t go back to school and she can’t stay here. She’s seventeen, you can’t kick her out. She can stay with me.”

“I’m going to have her sectioned.”

“No,” John shook his head. 

“She needs help, John. I can no longer provide it. She is a danger to herself and to others! I need her out of my house!”

“You’re going to send her away. You beat her, William! Of course she fucking attacked you.”

“I still outrank you, Price! My family is none of your concern!” He swung the front door open. “Get out! Now!”

When they returned the next day for hunting, Nina was gone. He never got to bring her food or her things. It would be almost a year before he saw her again. She was subdued, thinner than before. It was her father’s retirement party. He reasoned she was there because her absence would draw questions and William was nothing if not a posh cunt obsessed with appearances. 

“I’m sorry,” He whispered as he hugged her. “Are you okay?”

“I’m better,” she said with a forced smile. “I’m going to kill him.”

He didn’t believe her. She didn’t have it in her. Then a little over a year later he got the call. William had killed himself. He didn’t question it, especially not with the note he left. She was a good girl who’d been raised by a cruel man. He never asked what happened to her over that year or where she’d been sent. If it was anything as draconian as the school he sent her to, he couldn’t blame her for her hate. 

Then there was Arthur. But he’d hit her so it wasn’t her fault. She was defending herself. 

Now there was this mess. 

Simon and MacTavish were killers for work. 

He’d known Simon for ten years or longer. He’d done things but he wasn’t a killer without cause. 

MacTavish? 

There was a time he looked at Simon like he was God. He was a good man though, some anger issues but not cruel. 

He still went to the front door with the rifle in hand. Heavy footsteps towards the door. 

“Good to see you, Simon.” He said flatly. Simon without a mask was rare. The man’s brown eyes dug into him like dull blades. The shadows under his eyes were so dark that probably didn’t need the grease paint. 

“Sir.” He blocked any view into the house. 

“Where’s Nina?”

“Upstairs.”

“MacTavish?”

“Also upstairs.”

“Are they alive?”

“Why wouldn’t they be?”

“Simon, I saw what happened.” He nodded his head up towards where one of the cameras should be hidden. Simon glanced up and chuckled. 

“Guess we need to talk then.”

“Yes, we do.”

Once again, sorry this took forever. I have two more chapters lined up that I wrote while writing this one that I hope to finish soon.

Tag list: @gogh-with-the-flow @queen-ilmaree @cathnoneofyourbusiness

[plaindangan]

Sayaka had always been frustrated about her lack of ass yet ginormous cock, when she saw chihiro shamelessly walking down the halls, skirt doing nothing to cover that massive behind she decided to release all her frustrations on that shelf of an ass

Disclaimer: R18 material! If not to your liking then please do not view!

Sayaka was stewing in frustration.

She was the biggest idol in the country and, as such, was expected to have the perfect body to match. For the most part she managed to deliver. She had a nice set of boobs that stuck greatly in her skimpy idol dresses. She had a tight stomach that had people’s eyes wandering to her nice set of toned hips. That’s not even mentioning her flawless skin to lips with just the right amount of plump to them.

The only thing missing…was ass. Sayaka just did not have a big booty, which would have been fine…if every other girl in the 78th class wasn’t cheeked up!!! Everyone: Kyoko, Mukuro, Junko, Celeste, Toko, friggin’ milk makers like Sakura and Hina? They outcaked Sayaka by a longshot and it irked her to no end. But what made things worse? She was even outmatched by a boy!!! Chihiro of all people!

He tried to hide it, sure, but he always failed! Failed to cover that perfectly rounded, fatty, eye turning, meat!! The slightest bend always has it mooning everyone, and it didn’t help that the bloomers he wore were either ripped or barely fitting him!!!

It’s. Just. So. Unfaiiiiiiirrrrrrrrrrrr!!!!

And the worst part? Sayaka was completely turned on whenever he happened to just pass by her. That carnal part of her craved to bend him over and take all of her aggression out on his tight hole! B-but, she can’t!! Chihiro is her sweet pal! She can’t just use him like a fleshlight like th-

“Oh, hi, Sayaka!” speak of the femboy, it was Chihiro, giving a cute wave to the pop star. Currently, both were inside of the empty music room. No one would be here for at least twenty minutes. Usually, Sayaka used this place as a hideout to placate her cock…but problem was is that Chihiro was now here. Looking for a place to sit. Bending over like such a slut-!!!!!

“H-huh?” What…what was poking him. Gulping, Chihiro turned around to see Sayaka, skirt and panties down, rubbing against his own dumptruck. “S-s-sayaka?!! Y-you’re a-!”

“Futa? Yes! A-a-and I just…I need this!!! Won’t you help a friend out, Chihiro?~ I promise…I’ll be in and out before you know it. So…care to do a quickie with an idol~” Sayaka winked and kissed him on his forehead. Blushing Chihiro was a bit taken aback by the turn of events…but figured helping her wouldn’t be bad right? It’s out of nowhere, but it should be a relatively quick thing to…’experience’ and move on, right? Right?

“S-sure!” Though as he saw that idol’s devilish smile replace her usual, careful, yet heart warming, grin, Chihiro gulped.

Yeah, he might have have chosen poorly.

-

CLAPCLAPCLAPCLAPCLAPCLAPCLAPCLAPCLAPCLAPCAPCLAP!!!!!

“O-ohhhhhhh!! Oh gosh, oh gosh, oh gooshhhh!! Goooooooooshhhhhh!!! S-s-s-saaaaaykaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!” Chihiro moaned, mouth watering and eyes rolling upwards in pure blissed. Sayaka’s eight-inch ‘mic’ was reaching deeper and harder into his stretched out ass than he ever would have thought was possible.

Currently, the programmer was being bent over his desk. Moaning like a good little girl as Sayaka balls deep in his ass. Snarling, and laughing like a madwoman.

“Who the Hell taught you to walk these halls in such a short skirt, huh?!!!!!! Who the Hell said you can have an ass so fucking fat and huge, huh?!!!!!! Do you think its funny to tease me like this all day?!!! Everyday?!!!!!!!!! Heheheehehe!!! This is payback!!! I’m not stopping until I’ve dumped every last drop inside of your tight booty!! Do you hear me?! EVERY! LAST! DROP!!!!!” As if right on cue, Sayaka shot a new, gooey, load down into Chihiro’s pucker. Something that coincided with the programmer also spilling his spunk all over the desk….

But, as Sayaka kept jumping and piercing his ass with a rod that wasn’t even a little bit hard, both knew that a ‘quickie’ was never planned to be in the cards~

[noa-ciharu]

Those possessive prompts are basically a seisub fanfic generator but Subaru saying "I just want to be yours" HOOOOO BOOOOYYY

Ikr? I saw the prompt list and went like "no way this wasn't written for seisub". This is 1.2k of mostly angst and feels ;-; fitting for those two

Also prompt itself instantly reminded me of same named song so I wrote this entire fic to this song. It only adds more to angst and emotionalism

Possessiveness prompt - "I just want to be yours"

Scent of cigarettes was the first thing Subaru became aware of.

Room still dim, still drizzling outside, air still chilly against bare skin - unarguably still dead hours of the night. He rubbed eyes and tried to mentally arrange the picture. Alas, drowsiness lured back into slumber, mind and body screeching for rest; but not the heart, it clenched and nudged at him to fight passivity for once. Dire urgency of something intangible, something unlabeled yet vital. Ah right - presence of that one person. Not just intimacy between the sheets, but one of the hearts; nothing short of pipe dream.

Subaru groaned and rolled to side; forced eyes to focus and discerned saw silhouette on bed’s footing. You’re still here. Pattern set in stone; each night they’d meet like this for nothing but carnal pleasure fueled by unspoken tension lingering between them for oh so long, Seishirou would be gone by the morning. Message unequivocal, hoping to mean something to that man would be fool's errand; boding for nothing but anguish and more regrets.

Each morning Subaru would clean three cigarette butts from the astray on nightstand; those never weren’t there night before, no dispute who left them there. Each morning he’d cleanse himself of guilt of falling victim to own depraved desires yet once more; for never learning on mistakes. Reprimand himself for being too weak to resists cravings of own sick heart. Water may clean evidence of their lovemaking, time always heals the bruises and love-bites, but nothing ever nullified Seishirou’s touch upon his soul.

Still, never before has Subaru woken up in the middle and caught Seishirou as he was about to leave. Surprisingly, every time they had sex he managed to get a good night of sleep afterwards. Whether it was due to physical exhaustion and hormonal rapture sedating stressed nerves or reasons were far more sinister, far more manipulative, Subaru didn’t want to go down that endless rabbit-hole; bootless, would bring no resolution, just open more painful questions he’d never get answered. Thinking brought more headache, going in blind more heartache; caught between a rock and a hard place, no lesser of two evils when dealing with embodiment of apathy and selfishness.

Still, like a fool Subaru longed.

He raised up one on elbow; body immediately protested, aftermath of their activities evident both from inside and outside. Seishirou was never gentle with him but Subaru wouldn’t have it any other way; anything else would be a mockery, would be an illusion. Without shadow of doubt Seishirou noted he’s awake; nothing betrayed that but Subaru knew better than to assume otherwise. He was being ignored, discarded as toy that no longer piqued interest; object to be used as one desired to. If he could, he would be upset, would demand change of status quo but knew deep down that would bring epilogue to whatever this between them was. Better something than nothing; better scraps than to starve. Nothing he could do for cards were never in his hand to begin with.

Subaru glanced at astray beside his legs; two cherries.

Scent of nicotine became oppressive, smothering; stung the eyes yet no tears emerged. Urged for something, something he couldn’t have but needed more than oxygen to breathe. Subaru raised on all fours and crawled to other side of bed. Not the brightest idea to startle Seishirou so he began with light touch; slowly laid palm over back. Inquisitive hum, otherwise no reaction.

He raised on knees and slowly wrapped arms around Seishirou’s neck; nuzzled cheek into his shoulder and cuddled closer. No rejection but no reciprocation either. Seishirou hummed once more and took a drag; smoke twilled above their heads, within Subaru’s heart it mocked.

“Is there something you want Subaru-kun?”

Yes. But I don’t think you can actually make my wish come true, even if it involves you.

“I just want to be yours”, Subaru hushed instead.

At that he finally captured Seishirou’s undivided attention. He shifted to side and allowed more space; Subaru momentarily took it and crawled around into his lap. Seishirou encircled arm around his waist; hold neither too stiff nor limp. He took final puff of smoke and doused third cigarette into ashtray. Subaru numbly watched and reflected what he would have missed if he woke up mere minutes later. Off no account, he’d savor the moment while it lasted, then when morning comes he’d be replaying those bittersweet moments again and again.

Subaru placed palms on Seishirou’s shoulders and straddled his waist. Raised up and gazed directly down into his eyes; no smirks, no jabs or telltale sadistic appetite, he appeared thoughtful for once. Whether that meant something, Subaru didn’t know. Eventually second hand joined the first and hold became much more rigid; spoke of possessiveness, within Subaru’s mind of being wanted.

Why is it only at moments like these you pay attention to me?

“You are mine Subaru-kun”, Seishirou hushed, tone husky but with underlining sternness. Firm squeeze around waist, then hand traveled up spine and caressed his cheek; touch so tender it hurt. Strange how same hands that murdered in cold blood were capable of such gentleness; equally paradoxical how such tender, almost emotional look in eyes belong to same person that was devoid of same.

Back of palms itched; within mind’s eye Subaru envisioned inverted pentagrams coming to life. Mark of ownership, yet what point did it serve if his hunter left him to own devices oh so often. Who knows when they’ll meet again, who knows if their next time will be in eleventh hour. Nights like these were a proof Seishirou wanted him after all, so why did he feel so unwanted?

Absurd question, deep down Subaru knew precisely why. He wished he didn’t.

“Sometime I don’t feel like I am…”, Subaru murmured back maintaining eye contact; combed through Seishirou’s hair and reciprocated some of gentleness. Approving hum, apparently he liked that; good, Subaru noted.

No change in expression but then again, he didn’t expect Seishirou to understand. Subaru himself could barely grasp complexity of turmoil within his heart, how could he expect man who viewed emotions as unaccepted fragility and love as weakness to understand need for intimacy. Subaru closed eyes and sighed. No matter, no matter. Not all sort of intimacies were off the table, there were some cravings that could be satisfied; even if as cheep imitation, even if as mere replacement for original wish out of reach. Subaru lowered down on Seishirou’s thigh and brought their bare chests together; let Seishirou feel heat of his naked body.

Touch turned amorous same instant, message grasped and wish accepted; bait taken, although prize unsatisfactory in ways it truly mattered. Seishirou trailed fingertip down his spine, evoke shivers in touch’s wake; heat spreed through body once more, first stings of re-awaking arousal. Seishirou leaned in and placed peck over his lips, one promising sensuality. Subaru could feel him smirking into that kiss.

“Let me remind you then who you belong to”, Seishirou whispered before another peck and seized him by hips. Then without warning swirled around and pushed down onto bed. In a heartbeat Seishirou climbed over him, like hunter over captured prey. Foolish to assume they’d ever be anything but that.

If this is the only way I can feel close to you, desired by you, worthy as human being, then so be it. Only within these four walls I feel truly yours.

Subaru yielded without protest; wrapped arms around Seishirou’s shoulders and invited him in. He closed eyes and hoped for dawn to never come.