#just finished masturbating...to the thought of Him™ again

[trans-fixxxed]

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[lorebite]

𝒐𝒅𝒅𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒊𝒕 | 𝐣𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐤𝐨𝐥𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

warnings: 18+ minors dni. cursing. fem/afab reader. suggestive content (lots of dirty talk, begging, mild fingering (f receiving), a bit of handjob, finger sucking, a bit of hair pulling, cunnilingus, masturbation instructions, [unprotected] sex against the wall, creampie, slight breeding, switchy Jason). i might've watched too much attack on titan but reader is, like, super physically strong in this one. enemies to more. Jason is hella touch starved and needy but also a cocky mf. just two fellow enemies not being able to resist railing the shit out of each other; what else do you expect from me? 😜 big dick™ Jason. this is that "Salim + Nick scene" but reenacted with Jason in mind. probably the horniest piece i've written on this blog to this day.

summary: after the ambush, Jason finds himself stranded from his team in the hellish depths of the Sumerian temple. once he comes across a promising opening, an enemy soldier he hasn't run into before pulls him away before he walks himself right into certain doom. what will become of this unlikely due in the face of danger?

It was a disaster. The ambush had depleted more than half of Jason’s energy – to hell with everything else he went through since they fell. Alas, he had no time to waste; with a sealed off exit and a long unknown path ahead, he had no choice but to stand back up and find another way to his team.

This wasn’t the first time he was finding himself on his own, navigating the harrowing crevices of these ungodly caverns that echoed even his sharp uneven gasps of breath. The sound of debris crushing beneath his soles was far from comforting, only exacerbating the gnawing panic in the pit of his stomach which made him too alert to the blinding darkness that seemed to close in on him the farther along he went.

At last, the soft glow of an opening loomed in the distance that seemed much like the mouth of a tunnel. He began walking faster, gun held tightly and at the ready. However, as his boot skimmed past just the fringe of the precipice, he cowered back into the shadows. He almost walked himself right off the cliff of the ruins. Cold wash of realization prickled his face as he drew a wavering breath and stalked farther away; but then his back collided with… something.

Air locked in Jason’s throat, eyes blowing wide in panic. He went rigid for the briefest moment, eyeing the foreign hand that wound around his face to plaster over his mouth. The unknown arm pushed him further back into what he only thought to be a person’s chest. His heart hammered in his throat, his grip growing loose on his rifle at his side.

A gentle “shhh” was breathed against his ear. Goosebumps raced down the back of his neck as he futilely looked to the side in an attempt to catch the slightest sight of this soldier – or whoever it may have been – whose arms enveloped him.

“Don’t make a fucking noise,” whispered a low feminine voice Jason didn’t recognize and although he already expected it, still it managed to aggravate his growing dread. Another hand stretched out from behind him and pointed at something in the distance, drawing his attention to a sight that made him gasp into the palm pressed over his mouth. “They hunt by sound. If that thing hears you now, we’re both done for.”

A few feet away just below the cliff, there crouched one of those monsters he barely managed to escape only minutes ago. It hunched over the carcass of a soldier, emitting those nauseating clicks and sniffing curiously.

“I’m gonna let go now,” said the faceless voice behind him again, quiet and careful. “If you try anything stupid—”

But Jason didn’t even let the sentence finish. As soon as the hand loosened slightly on his face, he made a grab for the opposing soldier’s wrist. However, she seemed to have anticipated his decision, her hand curling immediately around his forearm instead.

It took him aback. A choked noise of surprise caught in his throat as he was harshly shoved into the jagged wall of the temple. He bit his lip to hold back the pained groan threatening to tear out of his throat. Two hands were wrapped around his neck now, squeezing the breath out of his lungs. His eyes grew round and frantic as they peered into the eyes of his attacker.

That face. How long has it been since the last time he was in the same proximity with a warm attractive body? His brow gave a twitch as he silently marveled at the way his own body betrayed him. His waist jerked involuntarily, his fingers winding around your wrists as you thrust your hips into his to stop his nervous movements, unaware of what that action alone did to him. You snarled at the man.

“What did I tell you?” You spat in a harsh whisper. “You have a death wish?”

All Jason could manage was a short strangled moan – a noise so pathetic that even he could swear it made your smirk deepen. You cocked your head, face cast in the shadows. 

“Don’t look at me like that. If I didn’t know better, I’d actually believe you’re enjoying this.”

Oh, hell. He was enjoying this. The insistent pressure of your knee in between his legs was already making his vision swim. Fear. Panic. Lust. The few hours down in this hellhole seemed to be truly fucking with his head. There must’ve been something absolutely wrong with him or why would he groan so deliriously when you shifted your feet and pushed the curve of your knee deeper against his clothed hardening cock. What were you even trying to do to him?

“Nothing to say?” You scoffed and Jason nearly moaned at the caress of your hot breath over his lips. “Typical. Maybe you’re better at following orders. That’s what a good soldier does best after all.” 

He made no words. He couldn’t. As the pressure of your hands increased on his throat, his mouth went slack and his eyes rolled back into his head. He wished you’d just put him out of his misery already. You were so close. If only you leaned in a little closer and shut his mouth with yours.

“Let’s find out. What do you think?”

And you were pulling away from him then. The cold distance was sobering and Jason found himself shivering as his mind finally registered the weight of his rifle in his hand. He almost leapt to aim the muzzle on your chest – nothing but a knee jerk movement; but he stopped himself before he ended up putting himself in a stickier predicament with you.

You suddenly looked more restless than he remembered just a few moments ago. All confidence gone and panic giving way to the previous complacent look on your face as you paced up and down the short length of the vicinity. A quick glance down your form told him that you weren’t armed. At least not with a gun. And that relieved his unease, that sour stewing emotion growing into a firm sense of superiority in his chest.

He raised his rifle, just barely, to establish some level of boundary that had been missing since he ran into you, eyes glimmering with confidence once again. 

Your eyes shifted skyward almost as if you meant to roll them but decided otherwise, taking a step back with your palms held up in front of you, though not in a show of surrender; rather, with an irritated flair as your lips twisted into an ugly line.

“Just when I thought we were getting along—”

Sarcasm seeped through your sneer, turning then into a faint smirk as Jason stomped a step in your space, his gun now zeroing on in your neck. That barely there upturn of your lips unnerved him – some hint of smugness, some tinge of sharpness. As if you knew something he didn’t and it made the blood rage hot in his veins. His face crumpled with a scowl.

“Don’t get fucking smart with me. Turn around. And put your hands where I can see them.”

He motioned rudely with his gun and you obeyed, sighing exasperatedly as you faced the open balmy air that led down the precipice. The monster yet remained perched on the ground and absorbed in the corpse, ever oblivious to your presence despite the little situation you had only minutes prior. The sight was unsettling enough that made your impatience grow and you speak up as the man loitered silently – assuming with hesitation – behind you. 

“Are you planning to stand around and wait for something to happen?”

He scoffed, accent thick with panic as he spat his next words. “I’m thinking.”

“And what do you have so far?”

“I’ll come up with something if you shut the fuck up!”

You rolled your eyes this time, lolling your neck along with it as you resisted the dire urge to groan loudly in disdain. You turned a glance over your shoulder.

“How about you listen to me instead.”

It was much less a question and more a curt demand. Jason opened his mouth to object and quickly jerked his gun higher, alarmed, as he watched you calmly brandish a combat knife from your belt.

“The fuck you think you’re doing?”

You ignored him, stalking closer to the edge of the cliff and still safe within the shadows behind the uneven wall. Truth of the matter was, Jason could fuss all he wanted but unless he wished to risk drawing the monster’s attention to both of you, he needed to keep at least some of his problems to himself. And you knew that very well. 

He followed you, more so out of detested obligation and his covert fear of being left to his devices again; however, it was only his frustration that surfaced to his mouth when he slapped the back of his hand to your shoulder and hissed under your ear.

“You outta your damn mind?”

“You’ll have to excuse me. I don’t listen to loudmouthed idiots.” You mumbled apathetically as your eyes searched the vicinity, not even once turning to look at the man who might as well be frothing at the mouth from sheer anger. “Does that answer your question?”

Now you looked at him – now that Jason was red in the face and clenching his teeth as he, quite literally, ripped you a new one with his eyes. Only if looks could kill…

“You got some fucking balls. Know who you even talking to?”

You cocked your head with a small frown, eyes taking in his flushed dirty face, his flaring nostrils and his pursed lips. “What’s your name?”

Jason blanched, eyelids flickering and voice silent, as if assuming he heard you wrong. But your gentle face staring at him, waiting patiently for his response proved him otherwise.

“I’m (Y/N).” You said softly, offering a handshake.

“I ain’t here to make friends.”

You shrugged, looking away from him and ahead as you withdrew your rejected hand. “Well, I just assumed you wanted me to know who I’m talking to.”

Jason scoffed. Again. You gave him a look from the corner of your eyes, shaking your head slowly as a dejected smirk crossed your lips. He puffed out his chest, moving in closer to you as if you had just challenged him, chin lifted and eyes narrowed.

“Something funny?”

His tone was far from friendly. Testing, rather. But you stayed put, pinning him with that same scrutinizing look from beneath your lashes. He didn’t shrink back. He held your gaze with such defiance it was admirably stupid.

“Listen, when all hell breaks loose, I will be the least of your worries. So, the sooner you realize that, the better for both of us here.” You paused for the briefest moment, turning your face enough to leer at the man, voice dropping low and melodious. “As much as I enjoy watching you pop a vessel.”

You snickered to yourself, satisfied at the look of incredulity that struck his features. 

“When shit hits the fan,” he started slowly, voice deep and rich with venom. “The only thing you gotta worry about is my damn gun far up your ass. So, don’t even think about crossing me.”

“I think you need to calm down a little.”

“Don’t tell me to fucking calm down!”

“Then shut the fuck up and focus!”

That finally silenced him. He eyed your fingers which pointed your knife at him, the sharp tip barely even grazing his shirt. Somewhere in his mind, he felt justified to slap your hand away and throw you back against the wall behind you, your offending wrist held tightly in his grip by your head. And he did just that.

You cursed and squirmed, eyes burning with a fierce look as you scowled at the idiotic solider who pushed his weight against you with a grunt, his face, damp with sweat, hovering a hair breadth away from yours.

“Fucking hell—”

“Don’t like to smell your own shit now, do ya?” 

He sounded unbelievably smug for the predicament you were both in – mere inches apart with an insatiable monster prowling just a few feet away. His smirk widened when you began to squirm again and he slammed your wrist once against the wall, loosening your grip until the knife slipped from your fingers to the ground. 

“You motherfucker!”

“Shh shh shh! Let’s not try to alert the beast now. We’re having fun.”

“Like hell we are—”

You raised your free hand to go for a punch to the throat before he caught you firmly in his fist, pushing your arm to join the other up against the rough texture of the wall that scraped mercilessly at your skin. His fingers, almost as if without realizing, wove within yours as his eyes peered down at you and time suddenly slowed. 

The strong knot of tension eased into a tingling air of titillation between you as you held his softened gaze, your own eyes flickering curiously up and down between the suggestive look in his dilated pupils and his parted, much too tempting, pink lips that beckoned you like a siren’s call. What the fuck was going on with you – why weren’t you fighting back anymore?

His warm body was pressed tightly against yours like burning coal, his erratic breaths on your face doing so little to soothe the mounting spiral of arousal within you. You felt your core grip at air as he eyed your mouth with his own lips fluttering slowly, silently contemplating whether to take that leap.

You took the initiative, driven by your impatience and growing need. He gasped into the kiss but it took him no more than an instance to reciprocate eagerly, his fingers tightening their hold as his hips moved restlessly against yours. He groaned, teeth hooking on your lip and coaxing an abrupt moan from the back of your throat.

“Shhhh,” he giggled, pressing another kiss to your lips. “Careful now, sweetheart. We ain’t in the clear, yet—” his mouth drifted from yours and down the length of your neck, leaving kisses and bites along the skin until he was at the hem of your collar. “As much as I love to hear you moan – mmm, fuck! You sound so fucking pretty though.”

It was impossible to not feel his firm bulge that pushed insistently into your thigh while he continued to grind against you. His hot breaths fleeted over your ear as he panted into your skin, a low growl riding along the breathlessness that escaped his lips. 

“Fuck, I wanna hear you say my name – please, baby. Please, will you say it for me?” You were stunned at the plea and the stark desperation it clung to. “Say I’m your Jason. Tell me I’m yours. Even if it’s for a couple fucking minutes. Say you want me so fucking bad. Pleasepleaseplease.”

He whined his request in your ear. Over and over and over. Until your knees nearly gave from underneath you as his lips continued to leave a warm trail of kisses on every inch of bare skin they could find. You were breathless and unable to respond for a good few seconds until your lips opened to the litany of praises and filthy promises.

“Fuck… Jason… you’re mine… all fucking mine…”

Jason couldn’t hold the moans rolling off his lips at every instance you spoke his name. Soon, his grip loosened on your hands only for it to slide down your body and hook under your thighs, your own hands fidgeting with the buckles of his vest. 

“Take these off.” You growled through teeth as your fingers proved useless to pry the man of his clothes. “Now.”

He drew his hands to himself only to quickly rid himself of the thick layers that filled needless space between you, leaving himself in only his blue t-shirt and his unbuttoned fatigue pants that were slowly sliding down his waist. His hands were back upon you to search your silhouette under his rough fingertips. 

He looked much smaller now – less intimidating than when he had all that equipment crowding his frame. The status of danger having now turned into something entirely foreign; just another factor to play into the hands of that white hot desire churning deep inside you.

“Come on, sweetheart. Go right ahead and touch me. See how fucking hard you make me,” Jason took hold of one of your hands and pushed it gently against his bulge. Your warm fingers slowly closed around him and squeezed carefully. He let his head back to moan. “Fuck—yes. That’s it, baby. Keep going like that.” 

“Keep it down, Jason.” You hissed.

“I can’t. I really—I fucking can’t.”

You clicked your tongue disapprovingly, raising a hand to his wet panting lips. “Open up.” And he did, accepting your fingers onto his tongue. He moaned through the mouthful, muffled yet still loud. You tutted again. “God, you’re so fucking pathetic.”

Jason sputtered and whined when you slipped your other hand into his boxers and cupped him firmly, sharp bursts of breath flitting through his lips as his palms braced by the sides of your head on the wall to support his trembling legs.

“Oh—fuck,” he mumbled around your fingers, a thick thread of drool leaking from the corner of his mouth. His tongue continued to suck on your skin, noisily slurping and lapping up his own saliva that was slowly running down the side of your hand. “Fuck—feels good—it feels—”

“Feels nice, sweetheart, doesn’t it?” You finished for him and he moaned his agreement, albeit much too incoherently to sound like proper syllables but his sweet little whimper that was stifled on your digits was enough answer. “Sure, it does. Look at you. So needy just from my hand.”

Your playful taunts only stirred more noises from him. He began rutting his hips into your hand, making his throbbing cock slip clumsily through your fingers. You shushed him softly as his whimpers grew constant and more high pitched. 

“It’s okay. You’re okay. It’s been so long, hasn’t it?” You cooed and he nodded fervently, his eyes sweetly round and glistening. “Of course, it is. You’re already leaking through my fucking fingers.”

He began to go on a tangent of garbled words and desperate moans, trying to speak but failing to convey anything; his rationale so far deep beneath the heavy heap of lust that his thoughts hardly strung together. But the urgency in his voice was clear.

“What is it, sweetie? Use your big boy words. You can tell me what you want.”

“I wanna cum—”

“What was that?” A feigned frown of confusion pulled at your brows as you neared your ear to his lips as if to hear better. “I didn’t quite catch that.” He whined petulantly and you shushed him again. “Come on. You can do it.”

“I wanna—I wanna cum inside you. So fucking bad. Please—Can I?”

You hummed, as if deep in thought and pondering the decision before you offered him a cheeky grin.

“Are you gonna be good?”

“Mhm, yeah—” He nodded, shifting impatiently against you. “I’ll be so good for you. I promise.”

You smirked and cocked your head. So adorably pathetic. All reason gone and replaced by that one simple objective fogging his brain. 

Slowly withdrawing both of your hands from him, Jason let out a shaky sigh, rigid shoulders growing visibly relaxed as his eyes found yours, his gaze more clear and focused now. His fingers made quick to unbutton your pants, his lips returning to yours with their feverish kisses. 

Once your pants slipped down your legs, he slid a middle finger along the crotch of your panties, his fingertip finding your clit through the fabric, rubbing firm tight circles over the swollen bud. You gasped, hands flying to brace against his strong shoulders as your weight grew light on your feet.

Jason pried past the slip of barrier and with small inches into your soaked folds. A choked moan rolled from his lips as your slick gathered on his skin, two thick fingers pushing with ease inside you. You plastered a hand over your mouth as a sudden moan erupted in your throat, head lolling back against the wall.

“Fuck—so wet already? Your pussy practically sucked up my fucking fingers.” He began pumping his fingers. Slow and careful. The empty tunnel echoed the obscene wet noises of your cunt. The crooked grin that grew on Jason’s face made blood rush to your ears. “Hear that? Who’s the needy pathetic one now, hmm?”

“Shut up.”

He cooed mockingly at you, lips puckering into a moue of pity. “That all you got for me? You can do better, sweetheart. Hurt me like I know you damn well want to.”

You snarled, eyes narrowed and brows drawn deep. Your hand was reaching for the back of his head then, the movement so hurried it flicked his hat off of his head. Your fingers buried tight into his soft hair. He hissed, the pressure of your grip jerking his head back and revealing the swell of his throat. He met your gaze with a scowl of his own.

“Shit—you li—shit!”

A smirk tugged at the corner of your mouth. Pulling the man closer by the hair, your lips began a descension of kisses down the span of his neck. The movement of his hand stuttered inside you the longer you went on, gasps of moans coaxing through his parted lips. A string of curses tipped off his tongue as your teeth scraped harshly across his neck, digging in and abusing the skin with every bite. You were adamant to leave your mark on him.

You only leaned away when you were wholly satisfied and could see the growing bruise that blossomed across Jason’s skin where your mouth had been. The smirk on your lips quickly parted for a moan when he resumed the movement of his fingers inside you. You covered your mouth as moan after moan bubbled up your throat. It was his turn now to leer complacently at you.

“Why go all tough on me when you’re just gonna give up that easy? It’s so fucking cute that you even try.” He buried his nose under your ear, a hand wrapping gently around your throat as he sucked your earlobe between his lips. “Wanna know what I’m gonna do to you? I’m gonna stretch you open with my big fucking cock. I’m gonna fill you up till your pretty little pussy’s dripping with my cum.”

You swallowed. Hard. A delicious shiver ran down your spine as Jason kissed your jaw and breathed a taunting chuckle into your skin. Your fingers coiled tighter in his hair and a faint growl vibrated under your ear, rousing a sharp gasp from you. 

“Are you gonna just keep running your mouth like that?”

He didn’t respond. Not immediately. He guided you carefully out of your pants, kicking the heap of fabric aside with one foot before removing your panties next. He lowered to his knees, his palms cradling your hips as he peered up at you.

“You got a better use for my mouth?”

You blinked, lips fluttering wordlessly at the sight of this man knelt at the ready for you before you mustered up a proper response.

“I do now.”

A knowing smile crossed his lips as he leaned in with a sensuous kiss to your clit before sucking it loudly into his mouth. He moaned, low and delirious, his fingers digging into your skin and eyes fluttering shut. As if you had just satisfied a seething hunger deep within him and he needed a moment to savor the flavor before it disappeared. 

His mouth then molded hot against you – fast and eager. His tongue fluttered along your swollen lips, lapping up your slick and gliding over your clit. Over and over. A steady rhythm that only picked up in pace. 

Your fingers, once again, sunk in his hair and grabbed a fistful. He groaned between laps of his tongue as you pulled tightly at the roots, the deep sound resonating deep within your core. You struggled to rein in your moans, pushing another hand to your mouth to smother the noises that escaped much too freely, your will worsened by Jason’s breathless demands.

“Shit, baby. Fuck yourself on my tongue. You wanna use me, don’t you? Be a good girl and grind on my fucking face.”

You moaned louder through your fingers as your orgasm rose high like a rogue wave, only instances from crashing over you and swallowing you whole. You squirmed against Jason’s mouth, meeting his tongue with your cunt as he panted and downed you hungrily, pushing you closer and closer to falling through the tidal walls of your climax. 

Jason whispered dirty praises into your pussy as your stifled moans rose in pitch, your breaths growing much more quick and stuttered – until you cried into your palm with the first pulses of your orgasm rippling through you like wildfire. 

Your fingers flexed in his hair, your other hand pressing deeper to your mouth. The dark of the cavern turning even duller before your dazed vision as your mind only focused on the now intermittent aftershocks of your climax quivering inside you. 

You let your hand fall from your face moments later. Once your thoughts slowed to an easy pace and the trembling of your body grew calm, you looked down at Jason who was now staggering soft kisses to your thighs; up – on your stomach then higher and higher – until he was in between your breasts, smearing your arousal all over your skin before his lips finally collided with yours.

His small content moan slipped into the kiss as he held your face in his long fingers, offering you kisses sweet and desperate until his gasps turned into rough groans; his leaking bulge pressing persistently into your thigh as he bucked his hips with pleading urgency to be satiated. 

He hardly managed to pry himself away to speak his question, stealing kiss after heated kiss and muddying his words as he muttered against your lips with eyes shut.

“Could I—should we—can I please fuck you? I need to feel you ‘round my cock. So so fucking bad, baby. I need to feel this gorgeous pussy stretch out for me.”

“I—fuck, Jason. Just—dammit—just do it, you needy fuck.”

Jason stopped all movement. He leaned back far enough to take in your face; sweat beaded at your brow, hair disheveled and dampened against your forehead, lips parted and panting. You were truly a sight. He raised a stern brow at you despite the grin fighting to take over his face, one of his hands slowly tugging his boxers down. 

“You keep giving me that attitude and see what I’ll do to you.”    

You rolled your eyes, opening your mouth to throw back a gibe at him before the words withered into a shrill gasp. That was when he hoisted you on his hips with a small grunt, his large palms curling firmly into your skin. Instinctively, you hooked your legs around his waist moments before he thrusted you back against the wall and stole the air from your lungs. 

Jason pressed his mouth to your ear, already pushing his hips up to yours to tease your soppy cunt with the head of his cock, giving you just the slightest taste of what was to come.

“I’ll fuck you sore, sweetheart. Don’t fucking try me.”

You clicked your tongue, noticing how Jason went stiff against you at the small sound, anticipating whatever clever remark that was going to roll off your tongue next. 

“You’re all talk, Jason. All bark and no fucking bite.”  

He scoffed under your ear, offering you only a false lull, leaving you waiting for his reaction with burning thrill building up deep in the pit of your stomach, as if he was planning his next move in that moment of silence that you spent trying not to squirm in his arms. 

Jason lifted you silently before sitting you back down, the swollen tip of his cock prodding into your slit. Your walls clenched instinctively around him as his thick length tried to plunge deeper into you. You whimpered. God, he was so big. 

“Mmm—so fucking tight—” he cut himself off with a loud gasp as you squeezed him again. “Sto—stop it. I’m gonna fucking cum already if you keep doing that.”

But you couldn’t help it. Your cunt burned and stretched, making much needed room for Jason’s size. He barely moved. And when he did, a loud moan would stop him again. You could feel him throbbing, his cock hardly even half way inside you, yet. 

“Shit. Don’t think I can make it, baby—please. Just—just try to relax a bit. You’re fucking killing me.” A defeated groan escaped him. “Fuck it. Come here.”

He tugged you forward, his lips finding your neck and restarting the trail of warm kisses along your skin. His mouth teased your earlobe, his heated breaths fanning across the shell of your ear and waking goosebumps down your back.

“Touch yourself.” A vague noise of confusion caught in your throat. His kisses didn’t once let up when he spoke again. “Go ahead now.”

You slipped a tentative hand between the crammed space between your bodies until your fingers found your clit, sensitive to the touch now. You grimaced but, nevertheless, let your fingers press firmly down on yourself. Jason began whispering hoarsely against your ear.

“Start making circles ‘round that clit for me. Nice and slow. That’s it. Just like that. Good girl. Take it easy now. Don’t make yourself cum, yet.”

Your throat gripped with short piercing whines as the dull ache in your core waned into pulsating pleasure and you had to resist picking up the speed on yourself as Jason continued to guide you patiently. 

You were slowly loosening up. You could feel yourself slowly sinking farther down on Jason’s cock the longer you touched yourself. He carefully tried again, sliding his cock deeper into you only to be faced with much little resistance this time. 

Jason pressed his mouth to your neck to smother his moans as he began moving at a steady pace, bucking his hips up to yours and heaving a small grunt each time you glided back down on his shaft. You felt delightfully full, your walls perfectly framing his cock, easing more and more into taking more of him inside you.

He could hardly manage a word through the heavy pants that left his mouth, the praises on his tongue broken by each thrust and gasp of breath. Yet, he remained generous with them, not once neglecting to remind you how good you were doing.

“Good fucking girl—taking my cock so well. Yeah, keep—touching yourself like that.”

And you only listened and followed, bouncing up and down in Jason’s arms as he fucked himself senseless into you and your next orgasm loomed over you. A muttered succession of curses rushed through his teeth as he felt your walls tightening around him again.

“You close?” He croaked. You nodded, a soft moan punctuating your response. His voice swooped high and staggered with gasps, turning into a quivering whimper as he spoke his next words, “I can feel you fucking throbbing. Shit.”

Soon, Jason’s breaths have grown loud and erratic, his chest heaving unevenly against yours as his own orgasm approached rapidly. His pace was relentless now, his arms holding you tightly against the wall for leverage. 

His moans slowly tapered into an accension of melodious whines in your ear as he finally came apart inside you, brimming you whole with his thick cum. His filling warmth was enough to propel you over with him; and you buried your face in his neck as the crushing wave of your next orgasm took hold of your body in shuddering pulses.

His pace gradually slowed, his damp forehead pressed tenderly against yours as he drank in generous gulps of air. His body trembled, breaths ragged yet finally returning to an even pace when he finally set you back down on your feet, wincing with a hiss as he freed his cock from your pussy that still gripped tightly onto him.

You could feel yourself gush with his cum when he, at last, released from you, the warm trail rushing down your thighs. Jason eyed the pale stream and swallowed, pupils visibly blowing wider again as his lip rolled back between his teeth, his cock already reacting to the sight. But he shook his head and smiled softly at you, raising his chin to look at you with a newfound admiration in his eyes.

“That was crazy…” you muttered, voice roiled with a breathy chuckle, already reaching for your pants on the ground. “Good crazy?” You heard him ask as you began to dress and you offered a simple but jovial “mhm-hmm”, peeking over your shoulder to smile at him.

You craned your neck to peer over the slope of the precipice at where the vampire once was only to find the corpse to be now on its own. 

“Looks like it got bored and left.” You remarked, finishing fastening your vest.

Jason stepped up beside you, now fully clothed and his arms cradling his rifle once again, and followed the path of your gaze down the opening of the cave. You heard him hum dryly and when you turned to look at him, a pursed smile was on his flushed lips. 

“Let’s hope it stays that way. Come on. Let’s move.” he said curtly, his tone loud and demanding as if he was speaking to his subordinate soldier; already walking ahead of you to the edge of the cliff. He paused momentarily to turn his shoulder and address you again. “Stay close. You got a weapon—besides that knife right there?” He waved a hand at the glinting blade that flipped absentmindedly between your fingers.

Your silence was all the answer he needed to reach for his holster and brandish his pistol, twirling it on a finger before handing it to you handle first. A courteous smile adorned his lips as you took the gun and cocked it, taking the cue to lead the way out of the tunnel. 

You followed close behind, cautioned eyes watching for movements in the shadows until you made it into an opening – a vast room of debris. Up ahead in the darkness of yet another cavern came rushing two orbs of pale light and a set of hurried footsteps. Jason quickly turned to you to say something but it was already too late for any assurances.

You cowered back a few steps, gun clutched tightly as two American soldiers hastened into the dull light of the vicinity; one of them – you assumed to be the leader – immediately demanded for you to drop your weapon but you held your ground with a scowl. 

Jason stood between you and his comrades, arms raised and shielding you from their assaulting barrels. As if he could protect you from the bullets once they came soaring at you. 

“Hey, hey, hey! Calm down. She’s with me.” He tried to pacify the tension but to no avail. 

The fair-haired man didn’t yield, only lifting his head slightly to address Jason with a curt tone. “With all due respect, Lieutenant, we can’t let an enemy soldier walk freely when we have bigger issues at hand. Tell her to drop her gun or I’ll shoot.”

Jason looked back at you, utterly defeated. His wide eyes glowed dully, mouth hanging agape with unspoken words. He then heaved a sigh, shaking his head as a dirty look crossed his face. 

“Fucking shit—fine! I’ll take care of her.”

“What—”

His glared turned to you and you swallowed back your complaint, your fingers growing loose on the pistol. He accepted the coil of rope from the other soldier before walking closer to you, another hand stretching out and beckoning the gun in your hands with a twist of his fingers.

Perplexed and frustrated, you dropped the weapon on the man’s palm and watched it slide back inside his holster. He circled you, taking your arm and pressing it close to the other before wrapping the rope around your wrists. 

Panic simmered deep in your chest even though your face showed otherwise. You gritted your teeth, fingers flexing into fists against your back. 

Jason’s fingers brushed past your shoulder blade. You would assume it was merely accidental until you noticed the lingering warmth of his skin over your shirt. As the two other Americans turned to walk away, Jason leaned into your neck, his whisper against your ear raising goosebumps along your back once again.

“I won’t let ‘em lay a finger on you. You’re my responsibility.”

You released a long sigh. “How romantic of you.”

“Can’t help it,” you could hear the grin in his voice – and his warm breath on your neck before his lips pressed a slow kiss to your skin. “I’m a damn good lover.”

⛓️❤️‍🔥 Taglist!

@kassiekolchek22 @yellowroses-world @house-of-kolchek @yeslieutenant @katsufairies @ptichkayago @gaypanic1 @wadiyatalkinabeetmate.

[mermaidsirennikita]

IAD Hero Power Rankings: Part Eleventy

Finished Shadow's Claim, which is the first ~Dacian book. Much high fantasy with vampires and demons, lots of fighting to the death, and a super hot hero who did the classic "here, it's a bag of heads" move, which was great but did not, unfortunately, win him the top spot.

Lothaire, the Enemy of Old, vampire, Lothaire

Pros:

–well you can’t say he isn’t goal-oriented

–takes kids trick or treating

–does not support rape or child murder; and he actually likes dogs a lot!

–“ELIZABETH. WITH MY COMPLIMENTS. YOU WILL NEVER GET YOUR CLAWS INTO ANOTHER ONE OF MINE. ROT IN HELL. L.” he says as he tries to make a point when sending her his Heart in a Box ™, failing to make that point because it’s clear that he’s just sitting in his murder castle listening to teardrops on my guitar on repeat

–listen between the tittyfucking and the “let me drink my heroine’s virgin’s blood after I very literally pop her cherry” moment, you can’t call him boring

–actually hilarious, basically just a very scary vampire with a to-do list punting decapitated heads around like they’re soccer balls

–just did some shifter beheadings!!! it not like he goes around cockslapping gnomes!!!!

–loves a couch sex moment

Cons:

–does support murdering everyone else if need be, casting out innocent souls to achieve his aims, unleashing untold evil, trench coats, biting unwilling people and being like “look if it gets weird go with it”

–clinically insane

–will forget someone he was talking to like half an hour ago because he’s lost all concept of time and space, will talk to himself during sex to be like “DON’T KILL HER @ me!!!”

–Ellie spends like 30% of this book covered in his semen, to the point that she literally just goes to sleep in it in order to piss the demon inhabiting her body off

–I thought he couldn’t sleep because of his madness but when you get to his POV he’s like “MY DICK IS TOO HARD FOR ME TO SLEEP”

–watches everyone have sex, which, considering this series, is a lot of people. I don’t even think it’s sexual it’s just his shit

–his only friend is a teenage quarterback, but then again, that QB is Thad and Thad is God

–put the Valkyrie queen underwater to drown eternally and forgot where she was lmao (this came out before The Old Guard…..)

–was into “juvenile skullfucking”

2. Garreth MacRieve, werewolf, Pleasure of a Dark Prince

Pros: 

–invented “werewolf versus demon” basketball because he was SADS

–smells Lucia masturbating and is like WAIT WAIT WAIT I CAN FIX THAT

–gets Lucia off through prison bars…. a determined man

–engages in a Road Runner/Wile E. Coyote dynamic with his heroine for a YEAR where he’s just chasing her around the globe while she crushes him with trucks and shit… he sees it as foreplay

–is actually truly the most woke werewolf hero; rightly points out to Lucia that she’s not exaaaactly being chaaaaste when he’s tearing that shit up every night even if there’s no penetration; keeps himself from going full moon crazy with magic in order to keep Lucia from being pressured into sex with him, and even when that magic breaks super holds back until she makes a conscious decision; does not do the Ritual Doggy Style Full Moon thing because he wants to look into her eeeeeeyes and ground her and even puts her on top, a KING

–catches a special new butterfly for her and names it after her leave me alone I’m crying

–“lass, I’m about to make you a widow” …. this shit works every time

–even a GOD can’t make him hurt Lucia

Cons:

–does not believe that women should have jobs after they find their werewolf soulmates, but to be fair, he is completely right, why the hell would I work if I had a rich werewolf soulmate who hunts big game for me and does all the cooking and cleaning and work and shit

–is honestly big stupid about plunging into danger

–is honestly big stupid about a lot of things… plan for keeping his woman from pursuing her immortal mission was “I’ll just fuck her until she passes out and then I’ll go do big mission for her”, admirable but not flaw-free logic

–was gonna help Lachlain steal a baby

–BIG “dumb younger brother” energy

–“we’re werewolves we’re very curious and always have to solve mysteries” lmao okay Scooby Doo

3. Rydstrom Woede, demon (king), Kiss of a Demon King

Pros:

–called Sabine a “good girl” even when she’s actually being a bad girl

–is explicitly a dom

–the first time he smiles is after she flips him off

–is into spanking

–takes Sabine to a bar and everyone leaves the bar because she’s evil and he’s all “awwww baby I don’t understand why they don’t like you :(” when she’s committed, like, war crimes… down ridiculous…

–his big comeback to his enemy is like “lmao well I’m about to make your girl’s eyes roll back in her head SOOOOOOO EAT IT CUCK”

–has two elaborate fantasies in this novel: a) suspending Sabine from the ceiling and edging her until he lets her grind against his face B) watching Sabine cuddle their cute baby. The duality of demon king

Cons:

–I mean I guess he did some pretttttyyyyy dubious shit to Sabine, but only after she did them to him

–met a woman and became her friend and talked to her for days and literally didn’t remember fucking her once until she reminded him…. I thought it was funny

–that time he went at Sabine’s tits for so long that the next day she was all “THEY HURT SO BAD” so I assume he was like a newborn baby or something

–“I don’t have any fetishes!!!!” has every fetish known to man

–was so down ridiculous that he went to try and kill himself to save her… this is a pro… but I’m gonna pretend it’s a con

–is pretty hard on Cade who was just trying!!! his!!! best!!!!!!!!!! but again this is only mildly a con because his disappointed dad thing is hot

4. Conrad Wroth, vampire, Dark Needs at Night’s Edge

Pros:

–exceedingly good at removing obstacles between him and what he wants

–a virgin and SUPER embarrassed about it in a way that is INCREDIBLY precious (when he finally fucked this woman and went “So I was good?” I almost fucking wept)

–murder puppy only wants death and blood (until he discovers………… other things)

–a natural born dirty talker

–BABY BOY…. BABY BOY…./EVIL

Cons:

–has erectile dysfunction for a significant part of his book, he gets better but I was so sad for him

–I mean, is fully insane and wants to murder his entire family, but nobody’s perfect and Nikolai kinda deserves it

–wears sunglasses indoors

–got aroused while buying underwear for her and had to limp home

–made Bowen MacRrieve sad and that makes me really upset because I love Bowen MacRieve

5. Bowen MacRieve, werewolf, Wicked Deeds on a Winter’s Night

Pros:

–is a werewolf general

–was celibate for 1200 years after his lover got so scared of his wolf form that she gored herself on a tree stump (lmao)

–spent those 1200 years trying to bring her back to life

–great at catching and preparing seafood

–breeding kink (wants to put all the bairns in Mariketa)

–kinda into bondage…?

–gets hard at the thought of Mariketa’s carnage, even when he is the carnage

–update pro: gets sent to a party by himself so that Mariketa can run an errand and just sits there confused and miserable at the bar by himself waiting for her to show up even though he knows people there; I imagine this is much like that SNL skit about a dog park for boyfriends, where the shy boyfriend hides under a picnic table

Cons:

–kind of a fuckboy (will say his dead lover’s name when he comes, ONE TIME, but “Mariketa” and “Mariah” begin similarly so)

–doesn’t like it when Mariketa chant incantations into her mirror because it creeps him out

–breeding kink (casually tries to get her to stop taking birth control)

–makes fun of Mariketa’s vibrator, even if I found that actually hilarious

6. Lachlain MacRieve, werewolf, A Hunger Like No Other

Pros:

–chewed his own leg off to get to Emma, pinned her to the ground in broad daylight, and inhaled her neck like a fucking FREAK

–actually pretty good at being the werewolf king (saves Bowen from his own stupidity multiple times, much daddy, very authoritative)

–saw Emma kill her own dad and basically swooned

–is absolutely down to get his blood sucked… through his penis (I believe he says that’s the only way he’ll accept BJs now…?)

–gets by on missing 150 years of progression purely on intimidation, which I personally find deeply sexy

Cons:

–I mean yes Lachlain is one of the rape-iest IAD heroes even if most of that was werewolf instinct and burning alive for 150 years

–doesn’t know how to use an iPod

–but will max out your credit cards

–a werewolf supremacist (is this a bad thing…?)

–says “Kiss me like you want to live” which I guess I should put as a con because it’s non-consensual but whatever I was dow–

7. Murdoch Wroth, vampire, Untouchable

Pros:

—just extremely determined… his heroine can’t bear skin to skin contact? He’s gonna use an icicle as a dildo. He fucked up so bad she fled to an ice kingdom? Well, he’s gonna fucking find her

–probably the closest IaD gets to a himbo… HE WAS MORE THAN A RAKE, DAMMIT!!! HE DIED IN A WAR!!!!!!!

–I don’t think y'all get how impressive it is that he consistently hit the clit through a blanket AND fucked her to orgasm with an icicle for like a year

–is actually a very good brother

–finds out his woman maybe married another guy and goes “she’s going to be a widow” I love mess

Cons:

–I mean does bitch a lot about how sexually frustrated he is but his heroine is an ice princess who can’t stand skin to skin contact without extreme pain so……………………… I do get it blue balls kill

–will masturbate to the thought of you in the shower while you’re unconscious six feet away covered in arrow wounds… if that’s something you’re not into…

–has confidence issues because the Wroth brothers are rattled off like Nikolai: the leader! Sebastian: the brain! Conrad: the mysterious babe! Murdoch: … the slut?

(do love that the Wroth bros are the Charlie’s Angels of this series)

–bit Dani without her consent blah blah blah

8. Cadeon Woede/“Cade the Kingmaker”, demon, Dark Desires After Dusk

Pros:

–extremely loyal to his brother (which I found cute)

–orders ahead to get pre-packaged food for Holly to accommodate her OCD, while helping her Walk on the Wild Side

–was the first guy to 69 with his heroine in this series

–stalked Holly for like a year (stalking is love)

–gets adorably tongue-tied around her, but not in a lame way

Cons:

–lied to Holly for like… that entire book lmao (even though it was fun)

–is called the Womb Raider for a reason, apparently (a little tooooo potent)

–sort of fucks with Holly’s birth control, in the sense that he made sure she was super fertile, but to be fair Holly did not… actually… take birth control

–threw out Holly’s OCD meds, though I chalk this up to the year the book was published

–just sort of drove around giving Holly head for WEEKS while Rydstrom was getting sexually tortured, so like…. maybe doesn’t have GREAT priorities…. maybe has the best priorities… Rydstrom was fine…

9. Nikolai Wroth, vampire, The Warlord Wants Forever

Pros:

–deeply efficient and good at his job (being a bloodthirsty warlord), which turns his mate on as much as it should literally everyone else

–scars all over

–very family-oriented, which means he’s extreeeeemely daddy, and very much uses that in the bedroom

–will try to make nice with your bitchy sisters for you

–is receptive to therapy, even if the therapist was his beaten and bruised brother whose advice was basically “do better”

Cons:

–did steal Myst’s chain and used it to make her come on command; which, while I liked it, was very much non-consensual

–insecure about Myst’s history as the greatest femme fatale of the last couple millennia (though he gets better and decides to be a sex-positive feminist)

–that time that he turned his little brothers into vampires against their will

–was so down bad that he literally started to waste away when Myst didn’t let him get off for five years

–does not properly heat his manor

10. Trehan Daciano/Prince of Shadows, vampire, Shadow's Claim

Pros:

--has MAGICAL INVISIBLE-MAKING MIST

--beats the shit out of everyone in this book, basically.... hot

--is apparently a really good uncle when he's not trying to kill his relatives

--was actually extremely romantic with Bettina and liked her dumb little weapons designs. Would see her be like "I think I should make a poisoned bracelet" and go "fucking genius"

--goes from being super rational to FULL ON FUCKING INSANE and that's hot

--says at one point that he'll figure out what to do with their various relationship issues once he's inside her, which I certainly was not mad at

--that time he told Bettina to refrain from touching herself until he could do it for her, we love to see it

Cons:

--was the second!!! person in this series to take Lothaire's romantic advice, which was admittedly correct but suggests his own lack of judgment

--sat in his library and sadly masturbated for weeks (while Lothaire watched)

--watched Bettina sleeping, which I wasn't personally upset with, but I guess that's inappropriate

--that time they were like "your challenge is to give the princess what she'd want most" and he gave her a bag of heads and went ".... fuck" when everyone in the room didn't get it

--held back on biting Bettina for forever, which was dumb and unhorny of him

11. Declan Chase/Aidan the Fierce/Gabriel/Edward/whoever the fuck else he was, berserker, Dreams of a Dark Warrior

Pros:

–I mean you can’t really go wrong with someone who is so determined to have his heroine that he just defies death and keeps coming back throughout the ages

–probably the only employee at Torture Island to get in trouble for workplace sexual harassment…. impressive

–that time he cried after suffocating Regin (it must be truuuuue love truuuuuue love)

–that bathtub scene where he was like “wait no actually I’m taking over this weird sexual interplay thing we have going on”

–his days-long island hike grovel where he was like just sadly walking around and being like *eye emoji* at Regin…. hilarious

Cons:

–I actually totally got why Regin forgave him (true love + dick too bomb) but personally I feel like it’s basically impossible that Lachlain and Rydstrom and Sabine are gonna let the shit he pulled slide forever so suspension of disbelief was rough there

–he did vivisect a MacRieve, and I am nothing if not a MacRieve Stan For Lyfe

–the drug addiction issues are rough

–that time he had to let Lothaire bite his neck whenever he wanted and Lothaire was like “if I call you a girl’s name just go with it” and it DIDN’T turn into sex? Sads

12. Malkolm Slaine, demon/vampire, Demon from the Dark

Pros:

–we love a virgin hero always

–gave Carrow the heads of her enemies As A Treat

–very good at giving sensual baths

–a responsible, loving step-demon to what is admittedly an annoying child

–made Rydstrom, Nikolai, Garreth, and Myst all “YOU WANNA GO BRO???” in what was by far one of the funniest parts of the series

Cons:

–honestly a very sweet guy

–swallows toothpaste TWICE

–comes against Carrow’s leg like thirty seconds after meeting her (actually a pro in terms of hilarity)

–TOO BIG, WON’T FIT (pro)

–could’ve been meaner, I’m not gonna lie

13. Sebastian Wroth, vampire, No Rest for the Wicked

Pros:

–all but a virgin when he meets Kaderin

–Gentleman in the Streets Freak in That Random Nightclub Where He SNAPS

–joined the mile high club remarkably fast

–throws out all his principles for her

–Speaks Like Dracula but in a “I vant to suck your clit” way

Cons:

–borderline beta, or as beta as a murderous centuries old vampire warlord can be

–a little tooooo accommodating of Kaderin’s bullshit

–could have been more demanding, to be honest (Bowen and Lachlain would noooot have been as patient as he was, which some would like but I was a little weary of)

[consul-valerius]

Kinktober Day 7: Somnophilia

A/N: Asra stans I truly do not know how you guys do this, but this got way more angsty than it did kinky 😩 however, I actually really love this piece and I learned a lot about Donna post-revival by writing it 💖 For those who don't know, somno is when partners engage in some sort of sexual activity while the other is sleeping/unconscious. Again, consent is pre-established and enthusiastically given within the fic itself, but as always please head content warnings!

Pairing: Asra x Donna

Rating: 18+ 🍋-- this means minors do not interact

W/C: 2881

Summary: Frustrated with their own limitations, Donna offers Asra a way for them to rekindle old flames in a way that won't hurt them.

Fill contains: References/implied death mention, discussions/allusions to chronic pain, oral sex (vaginal), masturbation, body worship, Sadsra™

Donna kept Asra’s gaze as they finished the rest of their tea. He was the one to break eye contact first, as always, his eyes quickly darting away from them. It was always like that; if he stared too long, if they met his stare accidentally, he couldn’t hold it. At first, this was distressing. “Is there something wrong with me?” was always the first question Donna would wonder, too afraid to ask, unable to find the words. But now, nearly a year later, they already knew the answer.

Yes. Yes, something was terribly wrong. But life moves on either way.

It was Donna’s idea—of course, it had been. Asra, the one who placed a row of pillows between them as they slept; the one who always kept a hand to their waist or shoulder as if to always shield them; the one who left just as easily, as if fleeing from something the moment an item was low on the shop—Asra would have never suggested this. But Donna wasn’t stupid—they were not stupid. They caught him staring often. They caught his fingers inching closer towards their own, or their arm, or their thigh. They caught the whispered whines in the dead of night. He was always so sure that Donna was asleep, so sure that they couldn’t feel anything with that wall of pillows between them.

“What if I’m sleeping?”

Asra hadn’t understood, initially. To be fair, the conversation had nothing to do with sex or longing or yearning.

“What? Are you worried about a dream again—”

“What if you t-touched me while I was sleeping? It w-wouldn’t hurt me then.”

Donna was so sure that he would have pounced on them there, would have sealed their lips together and caressed them and hold them right there. They had read plenty of books already about the subject, felt their own fire stirring between their legs at the thought. Their own hands felt like a stranger’s, felt so unsure, and yet it wasn’t enough. Part of them, some buried part, was aware that Asra knew every part of them, every little thing that could drive them wild. But to act on that, to remember, that would be…

“That’s too dangerous,” Asra was speaking quickly, which was unusual for him. The mage normally had an easy flow to his words—except when discussing Donna’s health, their missing memories, the “before time.” “If you woke up—”

“W-We have sleeping spells; teas and p-potions that can... they can—” Donna couldn't keep the frantic disappointment from their voice.

“It’s too risky, Donatello—"

“Please.”

Even that felt familiar, even caused a prick of pain to well behind their eyes. Please. Please don’t worry about me. Please just trust me. Please keep going. Please don’t stop. Please, please, please. How many more times would they break him with just a single word? When was the first time? What would be the last?

Donna placed their teacup down, swallowing down the previous day’s events with it. It had worked. Of course, it had worked. Already they felt so guilty, already felt an apology on their lips.

“How do you feel?”

So attentive. He was always so attentive. Their cheeks were flushed already, heart racing at the idea of what would happen to them. Just like with everything, they would have no memories of what was to come, just phantom feelings, impressions. But at least he would be able to tell them what happened, what he did, how they responded.

“Good. F-fine. Just a little… sleepy. That’s the p-point though, huh?”

At least this, what they were creating now, wouldn’t hurt.

“Let’s get ready for bed then.”

It would have sounded a bit more commanding, a bit firmer, had Asra been able to look at them while he said it. They wondered, as they stood to their feet, had there ever been a time he was properly strict with them, commanded them because they wanted him too—needed him to. They had read—what else could they do?— novels about such relationships, domineering figures paired with gleeful, submissive partners. It all interested them, like an old friend whose name was right there on their tongue, and they tried to apply it to Asra, tried to picture him in those roles.

But it felt wrong, like a shirt too tight or too long; it hadn’t been him, but he was all they had now. He was the only shirt they could wear.

And he was comfortable, they had to say that. He brushed through their hair as they sat, legs crossed, on the bed. They hummed and sighed as he did, shivering at the sensation of the comb’s teeth scraping against their scalp. This was typically as much as he would touch them now; they were much better at caring for themself than they were months ago. There had been moments when they were bathing together that Donna would suddenly double over, shouting, crying out in pain. A graze of the hands that was just a bit too familiar, a sensation of their arms rubbing against each other, a comment or a movement that was just too much, too real that would shock their entire body, would turn it against themself.

This was all they had now, this and clinging to each other’s arms in the marketplace, both afraid but for different reasons. It was awful, this harsh contradiction, this need for both closeness and repulsion of it. Asleep, if they could just be asleep, if they could just let it all out in a way that was safe, that wouldn’t hurt them—maybe then Asra would look at them as his friend, as a person, as something that won’t shatter at the nearest gust of wind. That they wouldn’t blow away like grains of sand on a beach.

“Are you sure about this…?”

“Only… if you are,” Donna whispered, though it pained them to. They wanted to be more selfish, wanted to just think of what they wanted. But this was already selfish enough, even asking this of him. “W-we can just sleep if you w-want—”

“If you wake up at all,” Asra interrupted, accidentally, voice soft and frail and desperate. “I’ll stop immediately. I’ll… we won’t keep going. If you think you’re waking up, you should… should—”

“I’ll grab your hand. I’ll keep my eyes closed. If you w-want… Only if you want to… You don’t have t-to—”

“I do,” Asra admitted, like a sin, against the back of their neck. Donna had to shut their eyes, inhaling. Even that, that small sensation of whispered words to their neck, was both driving them wild and bringing on a headache. “I really do… I just—”

“It w-won’t hurt… Not if it’s you.”

That wasn’t true; they both knew this. It would hurt because it was Asra. But not like this. Not if they could bend the rules, just a little, just for some sort of release.

“How do you feel?” His voice was near breaking now, wet sounding. Donna reclined back to him, eyelids drifting shut.

How selfish I am, Donna realized.

“I’m really… sleepy…”

“Lay down on the pillows. Here, just like that.”

Those pillows that normally separated them were now stacked at the head of the bed, laid out to help present and cradle Donna all the same. They wondered if that’s how the bed was before, before all of this. They could lay side by side, cushioned by all the fluff, sleeping nose to nose, giggling, and whispering, and revealing all night long.

Donna laid back, body already feeling so languid and heavy. It all felt nice; they felt supported. Asra was still so far from them, sitting at the foot of the bed, looking very small, almost like a child. He still couldn’t look at them properly, his eyes darting from the door to the headboard to their legs.

“Asra…?” Donna felt like they were submerged underwater. Without thinking, they were reaching their hand out, luring him in. “It’s okay. Y-You… You’re allowed to. I promise. Touch me, please. Please, it’s okay, I promise...”

Before their hand could fall limp, Asra caught it with his own, entwining their fingers together. They were asleep all at once; Asra blinked, surprised.

Slowly, painfully slow, he crawled to their side, his eyes fixed on their face. How many times had it been? Staring down at their sleeping face, soaking up every detail of them. The small mole below their eye; the deep bags under their eyes, so much more exaggerated now; the laugh lines at the corners of their mouth; the thick brows that they used to tend to weekly; those lips, gods those lips, that always met his skin at any chance they got. Sitting and reading and suddenly a kiss to his hand, a kiss to his temple, a chaste kiss to his lips, just because they could, because he wanted them to and didn’t need to ask.

Trembling, he ran his thumb over their bottom lip, ready to flee at the slightest moment. But they did not stir, only exhaled, opening their mouth more for him. Their eyes were shut, serenely; their chest rose and fell steadily. What a beautiful sight that was, seeing them breathe, sleep, dream. Were they thinking of him still, dreaming and imagining every sensation? Gods, he couldn’t stop trembling. He felt like he could fall apart at any moment. But just the touch to their lips was enough to propel him forward, suddenly unable to stop himself any longer.

He had been stopping himself for months now, stopping himself from taking them in his arms, from kissing their knuckles, from kissing them right there on their neck, on the spot that made them squeal in delight. He had to stop himself from weeping all day long, from going wild and tearing up the shop they had made together, this home that was theirs, not just his. How they walked like a stranger, like a ghost, in their own home. Already, he could feel tears brimming his lashes.

But no. No, this was not the time for that. This was a time for love, for adoration, and for joy.

Gods, he would tell them all about it. He would write it for them too if they wanted. He brought his lips to their cheek first, kissing them right on the mole below their eye. They barely stirred, only snoring lightly. It was at first disheartening, not even getting a smile or giggle, but it was comforting, nevertheless. They would not wake. They would not ache. Slowly, tenderly, he laid down next to them, taking them up into his arms as he kissed along their face and neck. They moved with him, compliant.

You’re allowed to do this.

Letting out a shuddery breath, he had to stop himself from touching himself so soon. No, he would savor this, savor every moment they had like this. The weight that it could all go away in a blink weighed him down, but he pushed through his frantic thoughts. He ran his hands down their shoulder, squeezing their arm lightly, feeling for the muscles he knew was still there. His hand sank then to their waist, his fingers running along the curve of their stomach. Normally that would have them wiggling and giggling, kicking their feet out at him playfully. He sighed, resting his head into the crook of their neck, as he slowly slid one hand up to their breast, his other sinking to the meat of their thighs.

He pressed his hand to their skin, feeling for their heartbeat, that beautiful thumping against the tips of his fingers. It was all so beautiful, and it was all so sad all the same.

He was sure to be soft and tender, fearful that squeezing them too hard would wake them up. He sat up enough to keep watch of their face; their hair and the pillows framed it like a crown. His Donna, his best friend, still giving themself up to him, still so ready for him to know every part of them all over again. It felt all so new and all so old all at once. He knew their body well, knew what made them writhe and cry out in pleasure. He knew it, he realized, better than they knew themself. Tears finally slipped down his face, lightly tapping against his hand.

Touch me, please.

Sighing, his hand dipped between their thighs, lightly pushing them open. Their thin nightgown did little to conceal the heat between their legs. He startled as they shifted them slightly, readjusting themselves. Their face remained calm, eyelids only lightly moving. He didn’t doubt his own spell, knew logically they would sleep uninterrupted throughout the night. He doubted himself, doubted he could ever do this again without inflicting some sort of agony on them. But there he was, slowly lifting their nightgown up, revealing their legs more and more. The unruly leg hair that matched their hair; it was still black, something he was unused to. In moments like these, they would be positively glowing pink, from their hair to their cheeks. But this had to be enough, had to be enough for now.

“Ya omri,” he whispered against their neck right as he cupped their breast in his hand. His hand trailed up from their knee to their inner thighs, tickling the smooth warmth there. Donna stirred slightly but did not wake; instead, they inched closer to him, their body reacting on its own, on instinct, to his touch. Skin seeking out another’s skin; heat wanting to combine heat. “Oh, Donna. You’re still so good… always so good for me.”

Sighing, he could do nothing else but kiss their face and neck again, his hands finally brave enough to squeeze and massage and push towards that heat. They were wet, he could tell. Of course, they were; they were both in such dire need of one another. Asra rubbed his own thighs together, shivering as his erection rubbed against his satin pajama pants. Gods, they felt the same as always. Their breathing remained steady even as he took one of their nipples between his fingers, even as he curled his fingers up against their clit. They stirred only slightly, their body subtly shifting to meet his hands where they want.

It's okay, I promise.

He all but tore the nightgown from them, all but swallowed them all up for himself. Gods, he was so selfish. Laying here now, taking their sleeping form in his arms and kissing along their breasts, along their ribs, their stomach, he realized it now. He was so, so selfish, and he was so, so sorry and would be for some time. But for now, feeling Donna inch up to his touch, hearing their dreamy sighs, watching their legs spread wider for him was enough. Any crumb, any drop of water would be enough compared to how he was depriving himself already. His fervent kisses sank lower and lower, his hands grazing every inch of exposed skin he could reach.

This time, he would will it all to his memory without fail. This time, he would be remembering for the both of them.

He was barely thinking as he sank his face between their thighs, holding them open with care, lovingly stroking their inner thighs with his thumbs. They stirred once again, seeking out his lips without realizing it. He could have wept just being that close to them again, smelling them once again, tasting them like he had before. He could have throttled himself thinking back now, how haphazard he was, how leisurely he had accepted their play. How foolish it all was now, not savoring their time together, not appreciating it as he should have.

He brought his lips to them like he was starved—he was. He lapped at them wantonly, wanting to commit every taste, every sensation, to memory. How they twitched against his tongue, how they opened up for him as he pressed forward. Donna’s legs shifted again, opening wider for him easily. Their bodies moved together under Asra’s guidance, pushing and pulling together. Asra weakly groaned into them, unable to stop himself from rubbing his throbbing erection any longer. He heard Donna sigh, almost like a yawn, but they did not move; they laid there, open for him, as they sought his mouth out more in their sleep.

“Donna,” he whispered to no one, voice breaking once again. “My Belladonna…”

He came undone all at once, shuddering and gasping into their thigh. Exhausted, he was so exhausted. And emptied. Soundlessly, he rose to sit up, trying to steady his breathing as he stared down at Donna, still fast asleep. The insides of their thighs still glistened in the little light of the room; their chest was exposed, still, rising and falling steadily. They did, surprisingly, look flushed in the face, but their expression was calm, serene, unaware.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Asra curled up next to them, resting his head against their own. He shut his eyes, unsure what to think or what emotion he felt. Part of him wished that this could be it, that there would be nothing after all of this.

He tensed as he felt hands, those small hands he knew so well, reach and grip his own.