#particularly due to pulse

[clownandout]

[neckromantics]

More creepy and unsettling, creature Astarion please.

I beg of thee. Vampires are meant to be an uncanny valley type of thing. An undead creature of the night that passes itself as just the right amount of living and mortal for you to let your guard down. I need more examples of his vampiric nature showing once he's grown comfortable enough, and I need it now.

~

An Astarion who is so silent in his movements that you often got jump scared by it in the earlier stages of your relationship.

You'd be lounging around on the sofa. Reading a book, lost in thought, all serene and cozy beneath a nice knitted blanket-- just having an all around nice, relaxing time when you see movement out of the corner of your eye. You glance up for just a moment, to the space before you that was previously unoccupied, and his entire face is suddenly hovering right in front of you.

Just waiting. Not moving. Pupils blown so huge that there's barely any color left to his eyes. Fangs are peeking out over the bruise-purple skin of his bottom lip. He's pallid. White as a corpse. Definitely in need of a good feeding.

His intentions were entirely innocent. He really only meant to ask you a question, and here you are being all dramatic and jumping several feet into the air and throwing your book off to the side in a panic. Thankfully, you're able to catch yourself before you full on shriek in his face.

(You love him and his ghoulishly handsome face, you really and truly do, but you sincerely thought for a moment that he was a spectre come to take you to the afterlife.)

~

Astarion, who routinely forgets to breathe. Yanno, like it's nothing.

You're well aware of the fact that vampires don't need to breathe. It's more of a force of habit than anything else, really-- something left over from when he was still mortal, he says.

Although, during bouts of intense emotion, or some sort of uh, stimulation, the focus on something so trivial gets put on the backburner for a bit.

The two of you will be sharing a particularly passionate kiss (or worse) when you feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest stop short. It's like all of the air has gotten caught in his lungs, and he ends up making these creaky grudge-like sounds in place of his usual low moaning. A clicking in the back of his throat in place of a sigh. If you play your cards just right, there might even be a rattling from deep within his chest that almost sounds like a purr.

When he finally does breathe, usually due to a well executed nip to his bottom lip, or the gentle brush of your fingers against one of his ears as you play with his hair, it comes out as an animalistic hiss. A sharp, choking gasp that sends goosebumps down the length of your arms.

~

How you catch him watching you sleep.

How you'll wake up in the pitch black of your bedroom in a cold sweat. Your hair is stood on end, a fearful shudder threatening to rattle your frame. A spike in your pulse that has your sleep addled brain doing somersaults in your skull. All of your instinctual alarm bells go off at once, telling you that something must be terribly wrong. Something must be watching you.

You try to blink away the bleariness-- try to shake off the fog of sleep for long enough to get your bearings, and catch a glint in the dark so ominous that for a moment you're scared stock still.

Something is watching you. Someone, rather.

Astarion's eyes gleam back at you in the dark like a wild animal's might. A bobcat, maybe, like the ones you'd often find stalking pray outside the tree line of camp all those nights ago. Pupils that glow a filmy, holographic orange despite there being no light to reflect off of them.

You don't notice until after you've taken a second to calm yourself that he's hovering over you. The bed just barely dips from his weight as he supports himself, and you'd be baffled by it all if you had any braincells left.

"Go back to sleep, darling." His voice is so soft, even over the pounding against your eardrums. Soothing. Tranquilizing. And though your eyes do begin to feel heavy, you're not exactly in the mood for rest anymore.

Especially not when he's pressing cold, feather-light kisses down the length of your throat not a moment later.

~

Please, I beg. Give me more.

[dragonsfictavern]

Beyond Desperation

Halsin Silverbough x Reader

a/n: Halsin and Astarion, my two main mans. I couldn’t not write something for Halsin. Some of the description may have gotten a little size kinky but dude is huge so it makes sense to me.

summary: After a particularly adrenaline endorsing fight ensues, Halsin needs desperately to feel close to you. His first course of action is to connect his body and soul with yours, replacing the aches of the fight with the aches of strenuous activities. Leading him to go a little bit overboard and apologize through vigorous after-care.

warning: MDNI 18+, p in v sex, biting, marking, body worship, light subspace, phenomenal after-care.

word count: 2.7k

It was due to a planned attack that started all of this. You had been there of course, fighting by his side. He had been particularly looking forward to it all day, his energy levels high despite his calm demeanor. You could tell having learned to read his body language and all the other things he never needed to speak aloud. Halsin was itching to help and frankly, so were you. Both of you aiming to look out for the natural order of things.

But then something happened that you probably both should’ve expected. In his excitement, Halsin had gone a bit too wild for a first turn of attack. After that, it wasn’t much longer until the entire fight was over and you all had clearly won. The other guys, while having gotten a few good hits in, couldn’t last long compared to Halsin’s stamina.

Afterwards, he went right to you, still overwhelmingly pent up from the very underwhelming experience of a fight. Checking to make sure you weren’t seriously injured. His heading straight for you was growing to be somewhat of a common occurrence. You tried not to look into it or think too deeply about it. You knew the way in which he cared for others. But that didn’t stop your heart from warming that he came right for you when becoming aware of his need. That he trusted you to be able to take care of him.

Though right now you were starting to feel a strange kindred bond that your opponents had with him. That's to say you were beginning to fear you too didn’t have the stamina to match up with Halsin. Your nails dig into Halsin’s stomach, bringing out a low growl from him as he helps you ride him into another orgasm for you both.

Like clockwork a hoarse scream is ripped from your throat as Halsin brings you to another one of your countless rippling climaxes. Your orgasm coats his cock just as your walls spasm around him and he groans, his eyes clouded over in a lust-filled daze. The only thing on his mind is bringing you to your peak once again, desperate to feel the way you clench around him as he empties himself inside of you. Desperate to see and feel your body as he gives you pleasure. Even as a puddle of your combined release soaks into the bedroom sheets of the local inn.

Your body convulses as sharp prickles erupt over your body from his deep thrusts and the beginnings of overstimulation. A whimper moves past your lips as you sag against Halsin’s broad warm chest, exhaustion falling over you after hours of euphoric bliss.

“You’ve done so well for me, dove. I knew you would,” Halsin’s low gravelly voice whispers along the shell of your ear as he leans down to your height. Your body twitches as he continues rocking into you though you can tell he’s restraining himself. Holding back from taking you again so soon after such an intense orgasm. You whine, burying your face in his neck as your hands trail up his overheated skin till they wrap into his hair. Both of you feeling needy for touch right now. For closeness and connection. “Sh, sh, sh. I’ve got you.”

“More Halsin, please,” you croak out, lips brushing along his raging pulse. Your hips start to move with his and your jaw drops, feeling the burn as his thick girth continues to stretch and split you open. But Halsin’s hands are right there on your ass, pushing himself inside you. Your body warps into him, a long mewl leaving you. But just as you think it’s about to get so good again, Halsin’s hands tighten, keeping himself firmly planted in your walls.

“Relax, it’s alright. Take your time. I know you got one more in you and I’m not going anywhere,” Halsin’s voice is a low rumble that vibrates against your skin as he peppers kisses along your shoulder. Your body still shakes but you’re itching to move, to keep him stuffing you full of his cum till he forces it out with another healthy dose of it. You truly don’t know where your minds gone when you reach this place with him. The crown of his cock rests sweetly against your cervix and it only serves to drive you deeper into insanity.

“Don’t- don’t make me wait. I can’t and I know you can’t either. I know you need it and I can do this for you. I want to do this for you,” you beg earnestly as a light fog grows heavier in your mind and your arousal for him heightens. You know this’ll give Halsin peace of mind, you know it’ll calm him after the fight you all went through. You want nothing more than to give that to him. So you whisper the one thing you hope will push him over the edge. “Just let go.”

Halsin is frozen, keeping you frozen along with him. His forehead now resting heavily on your shoulder, his nose brushing along your collarbone as he inhales heavy amounts of your scent. Then with a final squeeze to your ass, he lifts you up his cock, only leaving in the tip before his hips snap harshly back up into you. You cry out, cunt fluttering around his cock to which it responds with a twitch. Your bodies having been molded and in sync to each others.

Your hands caress his ears in order to intensify his pleasure. You feel the rumble in his chest and you press closer to him. Using his hold on your bottom, Halsin moves you up and down on his dick with ease, starting you both at a hurried pace. Your jaw drops, teeth nicking the skin of his neck.

“You’re ok,” Halsin breathes out, his voice low. You can hear the way he inhales and exhales roughly, tiny grunts leaving him with every wet smack of your hips meeting. You can only respond with broken whines, eyes fluttering as you lean all your weight on his imposing yet comforting figure. Halsin is more than prepared to carry you through this as he fucks into you.

His hands grip your body tightly as he fights for control, not wanting to be more rough than you can handle. His nails lightly dig into your skin, breaking skin in a way that has you moaning as pricks of pain join in with the vast amounts of pleasure. You know it’s sure to leave a mark or two but you can’t help but want more. Something that won’t fade away in a day or two.

You writhe against Halsin’s body, wanting his cock to touch every depth inside you as he maintains his frenzied pace. Lifting his head from your shoulder, he maneuvers around in order to more easily trail his soft lips over your heated body. He follows a pathway down your neck, tongue teasing your shoulder. His back arches so he can continue on along your chest. You gasp as his teeth bite at you softly, making your body buzz and quiver. His lips seem unable to leave your skin. You note the way his body shakes, his breath mixing with his groans and coming out in short pants.

You moan as his nails sink in a little further. Head thrown back you bask in every sensation you’re greeted with. It’s only when Halsin’s lips pause just above your collarbone do some of your senses come back to you. Though it remains difficult as you feel as though your body is floating in an air of bliss.

“W-what?” You try to ask through your haze, but talking proves to be difficult as every single thrust is punching the air out of your lungs. You barely even register it as Halsin’s teeth sink deep into your flesh. You’re so consumed by pleasure the puncture feels like faint tingles that only increase your ecstasy. You cry out more from surprise than anything. Your hands hold onto his hair tightly as you keep him right there inside you. Now in every way.

Halsin, so caught up in the way your tight cunt sucks him in with every thrust, the warm wetness encompassing him, and your beautiful body welcoming everything he is, he couldn’t stop the overflowing emotions whirling around in his mind. Before he knew it his teeth were out and burying themselves in deep. He was going to take them out immediately— he was going to apologize. But then he felt you tug him closer.

So instead he finds his mind completely spinning. Every time he starts to lift you up his cock, his hips snap back up into you as if desperate to stay. You whimper, back arching unnaturally as you’re unable to escape a second of pleasure, not getting a moment of reprieve. His brutal pace is relentless as he jackhammers his way inside you. You squirm but it only has him pressing harder into your G-spot, causing a sharp choking noise to leave you from the shock.

Your body tenses as you can’t escape the intense sensations inflicted upon you. You try to open your mouth and express it but all that leaves is a long moan that only has Halsin start sucking at the skin around his mark, his teeth still embedded in you. Your stomach clenches painfully as your orgasm reaches higher and higher. Goosebumps spread across your skin like wildfire as you feel yourself burning from the inside out. That burning heat coming from the way his girth fills you, consumes you.

Halsin, having become attuned with your body, senses that you’re on the precipice of something magnificent. He doesn’t hesitate to slam your body back down on his dick and grind your clit roughly on the hair of his happy trail. You choke, your body jerking with violent force as the cord at the bottom of your belly snaps. A ringing echos in your ears and you can faintly hear your screaming beyond that as your climax crashes into you in waves, one right after the other as he doesn’t stop the stimulation on your clit.

A few moments later his teeth slip out of you as he goans from your clenching down on him. A few quick jerks of his hips and he’s emptying another load into your walls. You feel his cum flood through you, adding to the mix of busy sensations you’re experiencing. Yet this one has to be your favorite. Your body convulses uncontrollably and you feel a faint spark of worry as black spots suddenly surround your vision. You quickly call out Halsin’s name before you fall into darkness, your body going limp in his hold.

When you wake, you’re laying on the bed flat on your back. You wonder what woke you up and why you were asleep in the first place when a shocking texture brushes between your folds. You hiss, body jerking back. You look down just as Halsin’s head snaps up to look at you. Seeing a wet cloth in his hand and the tortured look in his eye has your memories flooding back to the front of your mind in an instant.

His gaze only lasts a moment before moving back down between your thighs. You see as that tortured look increases as his face twists. With a featherlight touch he cleans you up, being careful with the wet cloth as he wipes everything away. Your body aches but his soothing touch is enough to make you instantly relax back into the bed.

“Oh, Halsin,” you sigh, voice hoarse from your screams, watching as he avoids your gaze. Your limbs feel as though they weigh a million pounds, so all you can do is lay and watch as Halsin internally tortures himself over what just happened. Your heart flutters as he bends down, pressing soft apologetic kisses across your hips.

“Sweetheart, I am so sorry,” Halsin mumbles after a few long moments of silence. He grimaces, shaking his head as his eyes once again catch onto the forming bruises around your hips he’d just kissed. Looking away for a moment he puts some green paste he most likely made on his hands. He then leans forward, hands sliding over your bum and to the small puncture wounds from his nails. He makes sure to rub it in carefully to each mark. You wait until he’s finished and sitting back next to your legs.

“Halsin c’mere,” you call gently, loving the evident care shown from him while also needing you both need more. The air surrounding you is cold and empty as the fog is all but disappeared from your mind and you once again feel everything fully. You see Halsin hesitate, doing a double take to meet your gaze. Emotion rises in your chest and your voice cracks as you ask again. “Please, come here.”

His face twists in pain at the small break in your call. He doesn’t waste another moment before crawling up the length of his bed. Laying by your side he remains close while keeping a few inches of space between you. His eyes frantically move up and down your naked body, checking you over for what was probably the millionth time.

“How’re you feeling? Do you hurt? Did I hurt you?” He asks quietly, one question firing off as soon as he finishes asking the first. Finding your strength, you sluggishly lift an arm and cup his cheeks in order to bring his focus to your face. His cheek falls into your palm, soaking up your touch. “I’m so sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” you say in an attempt to calm his guilty heart. But Halsin immediately scoffs, not buying that for a second. In the moment, it had briefly scared you. But you were ok. Now, more than anything, you wanted to laugh about how he’d made you feel so good your body gave out. Though you could see he wasn’t in the joking mood right now.

“You cannot say such things, sweetheart, look at you,” Halsin says, motioning a hand along your stiff body, eyes following it. That same hand carefully lands around your waist. He rubs his thumb in calming circles, bringing a warmth to spread through you. Guilt continues to radiate off of him and it hurts your heart to see. He closes his eyes, angling his head to kiss along your wrist and down your arm. “I lost control— that is far from ok,”

“I wanted to go again. I don’t regret it, even now,” you admit, thumb caressing his cheek. Both of you subconsciously working to soothe the other. Halsin’s eyes open and meet yours. You can see his emotions going haywire through the depth of his eyes. He feels so much and carries so much on his back. He’s incredibly strong but you want him to know he doesn’t have to carry it alone.

“I was reckless. It was my responsibility to take care of you, make sure I wasn’t too rough. Now look at you,” he murmurs against your skin as he continues his soft kisses. With your hand now free of his face, you wrap it back into his hair. Such a simple touch from him has your heart beating out of your chest.

“Look at me. You’re taking care of me perfectly,” you express, letting your emotion shine through to him. His soft eyes flicker up to look at you as his lips reach your shoulder. They now look the tiniest bit more forgiving than they did a moment ago. Without moving even an inch away, his arms slip around your body. He curls you into himself, fully encapsulating you within his form. You hum contently, curling your arms between your bodies and brushing along his smooth skin.

“And I won’t stop. Is there anything you need?” His face now right in front of yours and his body surrounding you completely, you feel a million times better. Comfort and safety solidify themselves within you. Your eyes look between his as you can see his full attention on you and anything you may need of him. Right now the idea of needing more seems impossible as you have everything you could ask for right here.

“Just this.”

[casdeans-pie]

Dean's ribs are aching.

He presses a hand against his skin, feeling the solid bones under his palm, and tries to imagine the ornate carvings running across them - remembers what the x-ray looked like. But his mind keeps getting stuck on the feeling of Cas's hand, strong and sturdy, in the center of his chest, and the pleasant burn that'd taken his breath away when he'd pressed into him.

A sensation that had been perfectly balanced on the knife-edge of pain and pleasure.

Dean lets out a shaky breath and tugs the scratchy motel sheets closer as he turns over, unable to stop being so aware of it all. A particularly loud snore from the bed next to him tells him that Sam isn't having the same problem.

It only takes another few minutes of Dean gritting his teeth and willing himself to go to sleep before he gives up with an angry sigh.

When he exits the room quietly, hoping to get some air and clear his head, he nearly walks straight into Castiel himself. "Jesus, Cas!" Dean yelps, then catches his volume, glances at the room behind him, and adds in a hissed whisper, "What are you doing here?"

Cas, for once, looks startled and a little guilty. "Hello, Dean," he says, voice rumbling quietly, "my apologies, I didn't expect anyone to leave the room until the morning."

"Yeah, that doesn't really answer my question, buddy. You were kind of loitering."

Cas shifts his weight a little in a nervous gesture that amuses Dean because it looks almost human. "I've been informed that watching over you while you sleep from your bedside is" - he squints his eyes - "creepy."

Dean can't help the huff of a laugh that escapes him. "'Cause it is."

Cas frowns. "And I can no longer sense either of you due to your sigils, so..."

(Dean presses his hand to his chest, echoes of the pleasure-pain running through his ribs.)

Cas's eyes flick down at the movement, but snap back up before Dean can put a name to the expression that passes over Cas's face. "So I have been watching over you... both of you... from outside your room instead. While I still know your current location," he adds sadly.

"Keeping tabs on us like this is still creepy Cas," Dean says, but there's no heat in it. In fact, he's surprised to realise that he really doesn't mind the idea of Cas watching over him- them.

"I can no longer sense you," Cas repeats, more upset this time.

A blue neon sign for the motel shines from above them, casting a moody blue light over Cas - catching the tips of his messy hair, and lighting up his eyes so that they're almost glowing. He's lit up in a way that reminds Dean of the Angel he really is, and it makes his ribs ache.

Dean grips the shirt over his chest in a tight fist.

Again Cas's gaze flicks down.

"What do they say?" Dean says so quietly it's nearly just a breath.

Cas must understand what Dean means, even though what he said makes no sense, because he replies, "It means you are to be kept away from all the eyes of the Angels, and none have permission to know of your location or gaze upon you." Cas reaches a hand up, suspends it in the air, and then lets it fall back to his side.

Dean feels a pulse race through his bones as he impulsively reaches for Cas's hand and places it on his chest, covering it with his own and pressing it down firmly. Warmth that feels like protection and safety rushes out from where their hands press together.

"I give you my permission," Dean says quietly, into this moment they've created, under the unnatural blue light of the motel sign, and the silent night around them.

Cas's eyes are wide and Dean feels his hand shaking. "You..." he visibly swallows and licks his lips. "You shouldn't say things like that to an Angel, Dean."

"Yeah? Well, too late. I mean it Cas. You've got my permission. And I know that means jack to symbols literally carved onto my bones, but it means you physically checking in with me if you want to know where we are - use your cellphone - and if I text you our motel room, and you're not, y’know, doing rebel Angel stuff, you can be our lookout." Dean feels silly all of a sudden and drops Cas's hand, stuffing his own into the pockets of the sweatpants he shoved on before he left the room. "And if I can't sleep, maybe we can talk outside again like tonight. Or whatever."

After a beat of pure silence the light on Cas's face from the sign seems to intensify and Dean can suddenly hear it buzzing.

The handprint on his shoulder pulses in time with the beat of his heart and the ache in his ribs.

"I would like that," Cas rumbles, a gentle smile on his lips.

Dean clears his throat and absentmindedly rubs his chest again. "Okay. Well. Good talk. I should- I should go back to bed- lots of big days coming up- world to save- goodnight, Cas." Dean doesn't want to call what he's doing running away, but he certainly does a good impression of it when he turns around and ducks back into the room.

A soft, "Goodnight, Dean," follows him inside before the door clicks shut behind him.

[uncharismatic-fauna]

An Affinity for the Southern River Terrapin

The southern river terrapin (Batagur affinis), also known as the tungtung or the royal turtle, is a species of freshwater turtle residing, as its name implies, in the southern part of the Malaysian Peninsula, particularly along the western coast. They reside in estuaries, portions of large rivers that are regularly exposed to ocean tides.

While initially plain in appearance, the southern river terrapin can be visually striking. The body and shell are entirely black, or dark brown in females. The only spots of color are carried by males: bright yellow or white eyes and orange inner cheek flaps that are exposed when the mouth opens. Batagur affinis is also quite big, with females (the larger of the two sexes) reaching an average length of 62 cm (24 in) and a weight of 38 kg (83 lbs).

The tungtung is an omnivorous species. Its serrated beak allows it to feed on a variety of plants like grasses, algae, and fruits, as well as freshwater invertebrates like crustaceans and mollusks. Due to the high salinity of their habitats, they often leave the rivers and forage for food on land. The large size and thick shells of adults deters most predators. However, eggs and hatchlings are vulnerable to monitor lizards, otters, birds of prey, and crocodiles.

Mating for Batagur affinis occurs from October to February. Males and females remain relatively solo throughout the rest of the year, although they aren't overly territorial. Once a male locates a female, the two touch noses and he pulses his jaw to emphasize his bright orange cheek pouches and the white stripes on the inside of his throat. After copulation, the female lays a clutch of 20-40 eggs in nests dug in the sandy river bank. Young royal turtles hatch anywhere from 60-120 days later, depending on the temperature of the nest. Juveniles can take 18-22 years to reach maturity. Adults regularly reach ages well over 45, and individuals as old as 100 have been recorded.

Conservation status: The southern river turtle is considered Critically Endangered by the IUCN. Over-harvesting of both eggs and individuals has decimated populations, and those that remain are threatened by habitat destruction. However, both local and international conservation efforts have been underway to preserve the species and its ecosystem.

If you like what I do, consider buying me a ko-fi!

Photos

Eng Heng Chan

Paul Calle

Thorn Sophun

[fangswbenefits]

The Arrangement (7) - Tension

Chapter summary: Astarion needs to feed and things get out of hand... again.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Dry humping. Masturbation, Precum, Innuendo. Astarion briefly talking you through it. Sexual tension. Sexual frustration.

Word count: 5.4k

Series Masterlist

Astarion needed to feed.

That undeniable fact had come to light in various forms.

You were quite sure that, to the others, it was a blessing in disguise, as Astarion's snarky remarks were now sparse.

But you knew better.

You knew him better.

He hadn't even made a single comment when Gale brought home some horrendous tapestry that he promptly hung on the wall.

That was when you knew he was due a proper feeding.

You glanced at him over your shoulder as you diced some fruit to start the day off.

Astarion was seemingly deep in thought as he masterfully threaded a needle along the edge of the collar of his shirt.

Your heart fluttered briefly as you recalled his enjoyment in embroidery. He had once revealed it helped him hone his dexterity while looking fabulous at it.

A faint smile tugged at your lips, and you returned your attention to the cutting board.

The morning had started off slow and quiet and, for the first time in a long time, you had gotten a proper night's rest.

You couldn't tell if your conversation with Astarion was the sole reason for that, considering you did try the lavender extract Shadowheart had given you. Regardless, there was this pleasant and warm feeling brewing within you.

The joys of communication laced with a touch of intimacy truly left you feeling at peace.

But then…

Your face tensed up as your thought drifted back to Ava.

All pleasant feelings morphed into dread at the conjured image of Astarion offering her his blood.

Whatever interest she had in it had to be rooted in something nefarious. You refused to believe otherwise. Besides, how could she even accept such an exchange when dealing with his vulnerability?

That wasn't right. 

You were so caught up in the haunting visual projection of her bleeding him dry, that you didn't realise someone was pressing against you from behind.

“I, for one, am glad we are not back in the wilderness, darling.”

Astarion.

You jolted in surprise as his chin came to rest on your shoulder, his hand drifting down your arm to grip the knife you were holding.

“Anyone with ill-intentions would have you gutted by now.” His voice was low with the faintest hint of a tease.

He was absolutely correct.

Your distraction could have landed you in a bit of a predicament not long ago.

But your gaze was now set on how his hand examined the blade.

“This knife needs polishing,” he said, shifting his lips closer to your neck. “And the edge needs sharpening.”

Oh, he really needed to feed. 

And he wasn't even being subtle about it at this point as his lips ghosted your skin.

“I'll get to it later.”

You were trying your hardest to keep your composure, feeling the palms of your hands sweat when he pressed further against you.

A low chuckle rumbled through his chest and your back. “Honestly, I'm surprised you can cut through anything but butter with this.”

He had to know.

He had to know how your pulse had quickened so easily because of him.

“Astarion.”

“Hmm?”

But your mind had blanked for a second, your body reacting instinctively to his.

His hand was closed around yours, thumb rubbing circles on your heated skin as he pressed his cold lips to the throbbing artery that ran along your neck.

Gods…

“You need to feed.”

He paused briefly. “It's quite adorable how you can tell whenever I'm craving your blood.”

You would have dropped the knife had he not been making sure you kept a firm grip on the handle.

“You aren't being particularly subtle.”

He let out a dramatic gasp. “I'm merely offering  help with this sad blunt knife, my darling.”

Well, his idea of ‘help’ now involved him pressing his thumb against yours to have it tracing circles along the handle. 

“I reckon your grip isn't adequate either,” he whispered in your ear this time. “You must grip it tighter .”

Oh.

Oh…

He was too good at courtship.

The innuendo wasn't lost on you, and you nearly rolled your eyes at his bluntness.

“I do know how to grip a knife, Astarion.”

He chuckled once again. “Yes, I remember your fierce grip whe–”

But before he could finish his sentence, a scoff was heard next to you and you immediately jolted back in panic, slamming into Astarion's lower half.

“Gods! ” he wailed in pain.

Chaos ensued as fruit went flying off the table and rolling along the floor, the knife landing at your feet and the jarring sound of metal clattering around.

“Is everything alright?” Gale's alarmed voice was heard.

Lae'zel merely stood with arms crossed and looking as unfazed as ever.

“Could you two keep your mating rituals out of the kitchen?”

Your eyes widened at her accusation, crouching to clean up the mess. “Oh! No – no! We were not – Astarion was just… just talking about polishing this knife.” You immediately held the blade in your hand for Lae'zel to see.

She raised a brow instead. “Yes. I am quite sure Astarion wouldn't mind you polishing his knife.”

Your jaw dropped.

Astarion was still hunched over the table, clutching his crotch and spilling profanities.

Shit.

You must have hit him really hard.

Lae'zel threw a final scoff heavy with disapproval at both of you before pacing away.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean it…” You started off, wincing as Astarion massaged the soreness away.

He waved a hand dismissively. “You're a menace even when you don't mean to.”

As he straightened up with a low growl, you noticed the colossal height difference.

Kneeling on the floor, you gathered the scattered fruit and utensils as you looked up at Astarion.

A playful smirk tugged at his lips when he met your gaze. “Not even going to kiss it better, darling?”

You were now at eye-level with his crotch and, for a moment, you thought he had rendered you speechless.

But two could play this game.

You placed a hand dramatically over your mouth. “Right here? In front of everyone? Astarion! ”

You hadn't bothered keeping your voice down and as you rose back to your feet again, you saw a couple of heads turn your way.

Gale looked utterly confused while Lae'zel rolled her eyes, returning her attention to the sword in her hands.

Astarion's smile only deepened. “Oh, you vicious little tease – that was good.”

You patted your clothes straight with a proud smirk before leaning in closer to his face.

“I learned from the best.”

And you quickly pressed a fleeting kiss to his cheek.

He stirred briefly under your touch and you offered him a kind smile as you walked away, casually taking a bite off a pear.

“You should do that more often if it means we are greeted with his silence.” Lae'zel complimented as you sat by her side.

Astarion looked as though you had just slammed a frying pan on his head, but his eyes following your every move.

It wasn't every day that once could take pride in leaving Astarion speechless.

He could hand out the most intricate of innuendos laced with sexual tension, but show him small acts of affection, and he will be disarmed in an instant. 

You still remembered that first hug you ever gave him in Moonrise Towers and how he was stunned at first.

“Are you malfunctioning, Astarion?” Shadowheart suddenly quipped as she trailed down the flight of stairs.

You giggled softly at how adorable he looked, even when he finally came to his senses and shook his head, frowning slightly.

“They were engaging in some bizarre pre-mating ritual,” Lae'zel spoke up, inspecting her sword up close. “Seems like she won. Not that I'm surprised.”

Shadowheart winced, disgust splattered all over her face. 

Gale chose the wrong time to sip his camomile tea and nearly choked, and you rushed to his side to pat him on the back.

“You do have a way with words, no doubt,” he drawled out, clearing his throat.

Even as used to her bluntness as you were, you still felt heat rush to your cheeks. “We were not doing such a thing.”

She merely shrugged.

Having snapped out of his previous stunned state, Astarion cleared his throat. “You sound jealous, Lae'zel. Should we invite you over?”

You gave him a murderous look, which only served to fuel his boldness.

“Jealous of what, Astarion? Getting kicked in the balls?”

He scoffed.

A soft knock on the door was heard and Shadowheart swiftly moved to open it.

Your stomach flipped momentarily, hoping it wasn't an undesired visit yet again.

But your worries were laid to rest as Wyll strolled in, accompanied by a Fist.

You bolted from the sofa, pulling him into a hug, which he promptly returned.

“I would normally welcome your visit, but the look on your face tells me you don't come bearing good words.” Gale said, tension heavy in his voice.

Wyll parted from you and his silence was truly revealing.

You shuddered and felt panic rising inside you. “What is it? What happened?”

He forced a warm smile. “Shall we take a seat?”

“Or…” Astarion said with a deep scowl. “... you could simply spit out whatever ill-news you're about to drop on us without the unnecessary foreplay.”

Wyll sighed as you motioned for him to take a seat, as everyone else followed suit. The Fist stopped by his side, an unreadable face turned to Astarion.

“Can I get you something?” you asked.

He shook his head vehemently. “I am not staying long. Just offering an update on the murder case.”

You heaved a deep breath, eyeing him expectantly.

“Well? Get on with it,” Astarion goaded impatiently with a click of his tongue.

Shadowheart seemed quite tense all of a sudden and Lae'zel kept a hand on her sword handle.

“It seems that Astarion is no longer a suspect.”

You watched as he rose from his seat with a smile. “Finally. Glad this is all settled!”

“Not so fast,” Wyll said, his face heavy. “Have a seat.”

He sank back into the chair with a deep scowl and crossed arms as a child who had just been told to finish their vegetables. 

“After talking to some of the passers-by from that night, the general consensus is that you were the only one they spotted,” Wyll said, turning his head to you. “No one recalls a second person being there, let alone that person being Astarion.”

Your heart dropped before speeding up again.

“What… does that mean?” you said in a whisper.

There was a brief silence and you could feel the tension in the room becoming increasingly more palpable.

“For all intents and purposes, you are regarded as the only offender.”

A cold layer of sweat took over your body all at once.

“Nonsense,” Astarion scoffed in disbelief. “I was there with her. I got captured.”

This time, the Fist was the one to speak, “You offered to get captured, spawn .”

“I wasn't talking to you, Fist .”

You felt Gale's arm around your shoulder protectively. “Wyll, this is ludicrous. No one here murdered anyone.”

He nodded. “I agree. I do believe this to be a grave misunderstanding. However, upon closer inspection of the body, there were some interesting findings.”

You were too stunned to utter a single word, thankful that your companions were doing the talking instead.

Lae'zel's grip on the sword intensified, her stare glued to the plate-armoured Fist. “Such as?”

“Necrotic magic reminiscent of that found in the Szarr palace.”

You watched as Astarion stilled all of a sudden, lips pressed together.

“Which we cannot further compare since someone burned down the entire place,” the Fist said, eyes shifting to Astarion.

The grand manor had gone up in flames not long ago, and you did know Astarion had had a hand in it, but with no proof of his crime, there was no effective way to pin him to it.

But it had been enough to strain his relationship with The Flaming Fist with only Wyll being able to keep them at bay.

“Accusing me of arson now? My, my, add it to my tab, dear,” he said with a roll of his eyes. 

But Wyll's patience was wearing thin. “None of this makes any sense. If the two of you are not to be blamed for this – which I definitely stand by – then who could benefit from tangling you into this mess?”

Ava.

Your mind immediately jumped to her.

You had no idea what purpose that could serve, but your instinct seldom failed you.

Even so, you remained silent.

“We are to continue the investigations, naturally,” Wyll went on with a nod. “Necromancy is grounds for imprisonment. Whoever did this, needs to be found and brought to justice.”

Astarion tumbled his fingers on the table. “Well, if you are so sure we are innocent, then let us go.”

“Justice should be blind. I know it is not always the case, but as a former magistrate, I am sure you can agree on the principle.”

Astarion waved dismissively. “It's a sound principle on paper, but its application is tainted and unjust. No one expects the lordlings of Baldur's Gate to answer for any crime.”

Wyll's face twisted into a faint frown. “As true as that might be, I am not keen on upholding such practice. Friend or foe, everyone must face the consequences of their actions.”

A mysterious smile settled on Astarion's lips, but he didn't retort.

Shadowheart cleared her throat. “I could lend my expertise in the matter, Wyll. I could examine the body myself. I have some contacts in the city that could aid me, but I shall need a sample.”

He seemed to hesitate at first, but then slowly nodded. “Very well.”

“So what now?” you finally found your voice again, eager for any glimmer of hope.

Wyll gave you a kind smile. “My friend, do not fret. I am keeping you both here as safekeeping for now. The Council of Four remains sceptical, but if someone did try to frame you, then it is best to stay out of sight.”

You gave him a reluctant nod, realising that time was the only thing on your side for now.

“We've increased the security outside,” the Fist said flatly. “We've added detection spells and mage slayers on rotation.”

You looked up, startled. “ Mage slayers? ”

Gale shared your indignation, the arm around you tensing up. “That is quite extreme.”

“Is it?” Wyll asked. “You two are quite powerful at magic, my friends – but there is always a bigger fish.”

“No wonder my magic has been wavering this morning,” Gale said, rubbing at his chest before pacing towards the window and taking a peek behind the black curtains. “ Two? Wyll, this is–”

“Necessary. For now.”

You swallowed hard, burying your face in your hands in sheer frustration. 

“On a lighter note” Wyll began once again. “I was informed that you are to go to Waterdeep to meet with your contact.”

Gale returned to his seat, looking livid. “Yes. We are expecting some proper information on the Wish spell.”

“Good news, then, Astarion,” he said with a soft smile.

He threw a poisonous glare at him instead. “Seeing is believing, or so they say. I will not be celebrating until I am strolling down the sunlight streets of this city without having my ashes being swept off the pavement and into an ashtray..”

Wyll gave him a light-hearted laugh before rising to his feet, adjusting his cloak. “Fair enough. Though my offer still stands, should things go awry.”

That immediately piqued your interest. “What offer?”

Astarion shrugged. “Oh, dear Wyll made me an offer after becoming duke.”

“Which you refused.”

He nodded with a frown. “I am not a dog to order around.”

Your gaze kept switching between the two of them, feeling lost.

“That was never the implication of my offer, friend. You know the nightlife of Baldur's Gate better than anyone. Your intel would be of great value,” Wyll said in exasperation. 

“And you are an adequate rogue,” the Fist said.

Astarion immediately scoffed. “ Adequate? I could have you pinned to that wall at the tip of my dagger faster than you can say ‘Baldur's Gate’,” he said with a laugh, but his words held no humour.

“I'd like to see you try, spawn."

Astarion drew his dagger from its sheath, twirling it playfully between his fingers.

Wyll quickly intervened. “It's not one or the other, Astarion. You could have both. We would keep searching for a way to cure your vampirism, while you'd take to the streets to help us fight wrongdoers.”

Well.

It did sound like a solid proposal.

“I would still need to feed.”

“We would bring you fresh carcasses at your demand.” 

Astarion was now inspecting his nails. “What about thinking creatures?”

Wyll tensed up immediately. “No.”

Astarion smiled playfully. “Then I'm better off with my current arrangement. The blood of carrion can only do so much for my body and mind.”

He exchanged a look with you.

“I don't mind helping you out,” you said firmly.

Wyll sighed heavily. “Well, I do not like that arrangement one bit, but it's your blood, so it's your choice.”

As he paced towards the door after bidding his goodbyes, you hurried after him.

“I have a favour to ask.”

He arched an inquisitive brow. “What is it?”

You took a deep breath, glancing around to make sure no one could listen. 

“I need to go to The Blushing Mermaid.”

Wyll's eyes widened. “The Blushing Mermaid? Why?”

“I need to talk to someone there,” you said in a whisper. “And maybe you should come, too.”

He chuckled. “My days sneaking into that tavern are long gone, my friend. It would not be suitable for the Duke of Ravengard to visit such a place.”

You shook your head, grasping his hand in a plea. “ Please . There's this woman. Astarion's… acquaintance . Ava. She is – or used to be – a monster hunter and she has been taking blood from him.”

You blurted out the words in one breath, hoping he wouldn't ask you to repeat yourself.

If there was anyone who might be able to help you with this issue, it would be Wyll. After all, his experience as a monster slayer and as the Blade of Frontiers had to account for something. 

He looked positively flabbergasted. “A monster hunter… bedding a… vampire spawn?” he drawled out as if trying to make sense of your words. 

That effectively struck a nerve in you. “She is not bedding him… but there is something off about her.”

“Ava you say? That name doesn't ring a bell.”

You mustered all your courage. “Please let me go talk to her… I have a feeling she might be involved in this entire mess.”

That caught his attention. “You think she's behind this? No respectable monster hunter would resort to Necromancy.”

“She's meddling with Alchemy now.”

He seemed… alarmed.

“Very well. I cannot accompany you today, but tomorrow we shall go there.”

You expected more resistance from him, and his sudden availability made you feel very wary all of a sudden.

“How bad do you think this is?”

The Fist appeared from behind Wyll, startling you. “My Lord, we ought to go. We have a council meeting to attend.”

Wyll nodded and gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Maybe it's nothing at all.”

Maybe it's nothing, but it could be anything…

As he moved out and the door closed behind him, Astarion hurried to join your side, clearing his throat.

“You two have gotten quite close.”

You scoffed at him, not in the mood for indulging in his banter.

“Well, being pleasant to others has its perks.”

Astarion smirked widely, his fangs peeking through. “I can be pleasant, darling.”

You rolled your eyes.

But it seemed that Astarion was bent on having your attention on him.

“So… sweet and righteous Wyll?”

You squinted, realising where this was headed. “Are you jealous, Astarion?”

As expected, he didn't bend easily to your taunt as he was a master at it and an equally skilled dodger.

So, he merely held his smirk, seeing through your intent. 

“Can I feed on you tonight?”

Your heart skipped a beat. 

Right.

He still needed to feed.

His bluntness caught you slightly off guard. “Uh… of course.”

You watched as his smile only grew wider before he leaned in to plant a quick kiss to your cheek.

Your eyes widened as the coldness of his lips parted from your skin and your mouth fell agape.

“Splendid.”

And he swiftly went back to his embroidery duties, humming some camp songs as if he hadn't just made your heart almost implode.

Across the room, you spotted Lae'zel rolling her eyes.

Astarion came to you in the dead of night.

The door to your room clicked shut behind him and you immediately felt your body react to his presence.

With only candlelight and the muted glow from the moon spilling through the uncovered windows, you realised he looked more beautiful than ever.

Your heartbeat nearly doubled as you rose from your bed, waiting for him to close the distance.

And he did.

With sure and slow steps, he came to you.

His black shirt held a new embroidery near the collar.

Exquisite needlework.

He held a faint smile as you traced the flowery lining with one finger.

“This is beautiful.”

“My fingers can make or break,” he whispered softly, his crimson eyes set on you. “Depending on what the situation requires, that is.”

You swallowed hard as his words seeped through your mind, reminding you that the man before you had experience and knowledge in matters you could only dream of achieving.

He held your chin, gently tilting your head, and your eyes fluttered shut as you waited for a kiss.

And he did kiss you.

Just not where you expected.

Or wanted.

His lips lingered on the swell of your cheek, your body already accustomed to the difference in temperature.

“I was thinking…”

He hummed, tilting your head slightly to the left, so he could mirror the kiss on the other cheek.

“You can feed on me more often, if you'd like…”

Astarion pulled back slowly, an elegant eyebrow arched. “More often?”

“Yes. If you want to, of course.”

He eyed you in disbelief, the thumb on your chin rubbing gently circles. “If I want to? Darling, if I had it my way, I would feed on you every single day.”

His words hit hard and not because the prospect of that scenario scared you.

But because you wished he would do it.

The moments when he fed on you belonged to the two of you alone. 

No one could interfere in the intimacy of it.

He would not feed on anyone else but you.

And that sort of craving was easy to get addicted to.

You wanted him to want you.

To feel comfortable enough with you that he wouldn't seek anyone else.

“Maybe we can do it every other day, then?” you suggested, nearly gasping as his thumb moved up to trace your lower lip.

Astarion glared at you in silence for a moment, caressing your flesh and occasionally teasing further by pushing past your lips.

“Do you have enough scrolls of Lesser Restoration for that?”

You nodded, feeling his thumb being pushed inside.

“So, I can feed more often…” he said, eyes dropping to your mouth.

He sounded absolutely delighted and you closed your lips around him, earning a low growl of approval.

Then you let go and he moved to your lower lip once again.

“More often, but less quantity.”

He nodded with a smile. “Seems fair.”

The room was already heavy with sexual tension, and you needed to disperse it before things escalated too quickly.

“Are you still tender down there?” you asked sweetly.

“Well, there is only one way to test out if you haven't caused irreparable damage.”

Oh.

Of course.

You felt a wave of heat flush to your face at his words.

Because Astarion would get an erection eventually.

It was expected and, at this point, more than welcome.

“Go on. Make yourself comfortable,” he said, pointing to your bed. 

You stared at him in confusion. He usually fed on you while standing. It was more practical and less intimate.

But then it dawned on you that maybe that was what he was aiming for.

“This one might be a long feed.”

Your expectations shattered at once and you gave him a hesitant stare, remaining rooted in place.

“Honestly, after all the times I fed on you, you still worry I might take it too far?”

“Can you blame me?”

He chuckled, placing both hands on your shoulder before planting a kiss to the back of your head.

“I suppose not, but you are free to press a stake to my chest just in case,” he said teasingly.

You picked a scroll from inside the bedside table, placing it carefully atop as it waited for the inevitable moment.

Slowly, he let go of you so you could settle back on your back, feeling the soft mattress envelop your body.

Your legs were firmly pressed together and you laced your hands in each other and on your stomach, waiting for his move.

Astarion hunched over you before shifting until his face met yours.

You felt the mattress dip under you as he got on top.

At this point, your heart was drumming so loudly in your ears, that it drowned out any other noise.

Unexpectedly, you felt his lips on yours, but before you could react, he had lowered himself until you felt his tongue swiping along the skin of your neck.

Just like clockwork, you felt a jolt of pleasure coursing through your body and lingering between your legs. You tensed up and clutched your hands together more fiercely, bracing yourself for what was to come.

The initial sting made you jolt lightly as he pushed his fangs further into you, before his lips closed around the wound and he began to suck.

The first gasp didn't take long to spill from your lips from the sound of his faint moans.

The throb between your legs continued to intensity with each passing second, and you prayed to any god above to spare you from succumbing to the lurking lust.

You felt him untangle your hands and pinning both your wrists together and above your head as he lowered himself even further.

And much to your embarrassment, your legs instinctively parted to accommodate him as he pressed further into you.

Gods… no, no, no….

This was not good at all.

Even through the fabric of your trousers, you could feel his growing erection nudging against you.

Astarion's chest rumbled in a growl of approval and you couldn't keep your hips from rolling, seeking that delicious friction.

You balled your fists as your back arched when his hips began to match yours.

No… no…

The throb in your head was nearly blinding from the blood being drained whilst the one in between your legs only intensified.

“Astarion…” you moaned through gritted teeth.

He slowed down ever so slightly, but you quickly realise it was even more torturous as you could now feel the clothed underside of his thick cock teasing between your folds.

Oh, you were not going to last long like this…

You were too hungry for him to deny yourself from reaching your peak as he fed on you.

Even as your body became weaker, you could still feel yourself walking dangerously fast to the precipice, yearning that sweet release.

“I'm going… I'm going to…” you mumbled, feeling wetness drip from you as your body readied itself for him to be inside you.

Your breathing quickened and your gasps began to merge together as his cock dug harder against you with each roll.

And just as your eyes closed shut and your mouth parted to welcome the pinnacle of your pleasure, you felt him pull back with a guttural growl.

Blood trailed down his lips and chin and neck and you nearly cried tears of overwhelming frustration as you were denied your release.

He moved to grip the scroll and shoved it into your hand.

“Say it.”

Astarion knelt in between your legs, fumbling with the lacing of his trousers, his bulge strained against the fabric and you spotted the familiar stains of precum.

“Say it…” he urged you with a growl.

But you could only stare, mesmerised at the beautiful sight of relief he let out once he managed to ease pressure that had built up.

It made your mouth water and you suddenly felt the urge to touch yourself.

“Say. It .”

As if he had just snapped you from a dream, you quickly mumbled the incantation as the scroll vanished into thin air.

Your heart was hit with newfound vigour as warmth spread throughout your body on rhythmic waves.

Astarion slid off the bed, adjusting himself through his clothes with a whine. 

He looked so beautiful… ears flushed pink and a tint of a blush on his face as your blood coursed through him.

The swell and throb didn't fade and you allowed your fingers to dip slightly under the waistband, wanting nothing but release.

He eventually locked eyes with you, licking the remnants of your blood from his lips, pacing closer to you.

With a gasp, you felt him tug at the strings of your own trousers, eyes dark and pupils fully blown.

“Do what you must.”

He had loosened them just enough for your hand to slide inside, and you couldn't contain the moan that erupted from within you once the pads of your fingers brushed against the throbbing swell between your legs.

Instinctively, you began to roll your hips, feeling just how ridiculously soaked you were for him.

Your half-hooded eyes landed on his lower half, taking in the sight of the precum that had seeped through the fabric and wishing you could see his cock.

Astarion's cock always looked the prettiest after he had fed on you: all flushed pink, bulging veins snaking around his length, precum dribbling down…

But it seemed that he had no intention of granting you your wish, and you felt guilty for craving it in the first place, knowing he probably just wanted to take his time.

So you stopped your ministrations, which earned a disapproving growl from him.

“Keep going. I can hear how wet you are for me and it's music to my ears,” he whispered, before kneeling at your side. “Be a good girl… please .”

Your hips bucked at the caress from his words.

His face was so close, but his eyes were fixed on your hand that moved under your trousers, your own fingers teasing your entrance.

“You just slid one inside, didn't you?”

You bit down on your lip, nodding with a whimper as you clenched around yourself.

“Gods… you can take another one, can't you?”

Your back arched and your eyes fluttered shut. “Astarion…”

His lips ghosted yours. “Add another one…”

His voice was dripping with lust and it was all the incentive you needed to push a second one inside.

You tried to remember how his cock felt inside you. How full you always felt and how much cum he spilled inside you.

Your fingers were no match for him.

He felt so much better…

How you wished he would replace your fingers with his, going knuckle-deep and drawing out the most desperate moans and pleas from you.

He finally pressed his now warm lips against yours and you eagerly deepened the kiss, tasting your blood on his tongue.

You kept riding your own fingers and you nearly whimpered as his hand came to rest on your forearm, thumb caressing your heated skin.

He broke the kiss not long after and your eyes snapped open as you were about to voice a complaint.

Astarion was on his feet again, fingers expertly tying the front of his trousers once again, drawing a pained hiss as his hard cock was once again strained. 

You whimpered in response, rolling your hips desperately as your fingers edged you closer and closer.

“It's frustrating, isn't it?” he asked as he finished working on the lacing, crushing your hopes of seeing his cock leaking precum for you.

“Now you know how it feels..." he said, a devious smile crossing his face. "Besides, I still wonder if this is what friends do."

Your jaw slacked open as a gasp mixed with a whine escaped your lips from his taunting words.

No. No. No...

"See, you never gave me an answer, darling."

You removed your fingers from deep within you with a long and pained whine on the verge of tears.

"I'll leave you to figure it out, then."

Before you could voice a protest, he slipped out of the room quickly, and you vaguely wondered if he had been there at all if not more the ache between your legs and the fresh puncture wounds in your neck.

Fuck.

TBC

series masterlist . ao3

[nanaslutt]

short little Kenjaku x Jin smut in honor of chapter 257... ^.^

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

Kenjaku gripped the sheets between her fingers, biting hard on her lip and Jin repeatedly bottomed out inside her, all the while shoving her head into the pillow. The weight of his body on top of hers and the pressure Kenjaku was feeling in his head due to how rough he was being was making his head spin. "You like that? Sure, are being loud." Jin grits through his teeth, his eyes rolling back in his head when he thrusts against a particularly soft spot inside his wife. 

Kenjaku smiled and nodded hastily, drool spilling from the corners of her mouth as she tried to look at her husband out of the corner of her eye. "M-mhmm." She moaned back, thrusting her hips against his ass. Jin groaned and grabbed the fat of his wife's ass harder, his eyes dropping to where the two of them were connected. "Fuuuuck." He groaned, stilling his hips as he allowed Kenjaku to push her hips back against him, fucking herself on his cock.

"Does that feel good?" She moaned, her question slipping off into a moan when he slowly started thrusting his cock inside her again, meeting her hips halfway. The man behind Kenjaku groaned, nodding his head as he stared at her cunt sucking his cock in, enthralled with how tight it felt and how hot the white ring of cum pooling around the base of his cock looked.

"So fucking good, god you're so fucking good." Jin praised, pulling his hand back only to land it harshly against her ass the next second, making Kenjaky cry out, her cunt clenching like a vice around Jin's cock at the unexpected sensation. Jin pulled his hand back from his wife's head and grabbed the other side of her ass with it, immediately starting up his brutal pace again that now felt even harsher due to him using her ass to pull back against his pelvis. 

Kenjaku felt tears well up in her eyes as she gritted her teeth, her arms shaking with how hard she was gripping the sheets. "G-god!" She cried, her jaw falling slack as her cunt pulsed and spasmed around her husband. Jin nodded and pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, feeling his balls throb with the need for release. "You like it when I get rough, huh? Like feeling me deep inside you?" Jin groaned, leaning over her body, his eyebrows furrowing as he stared at his wife's pretty face, screwed in pleasure.

"Yes- yes- god- Jin-" Her voice sounded the same as it did when they first met, when she called his name for the first time. Jin was delusional, he knew that, but how was he supposed to let her go when she was perfectly well in front of him like this? More than well, she was crying and screaming in pleasure in front of him. What? Was he supposed to ignore her and leave her high and dry just because she wasn't exactly the same as when he first met her? Hell no.

"You gonna cum from this, my love? Gonna make a mess all over me while I fill you up?" He groaned into her ear, wrapping his arms under her body, feeling her soft, warm, alive skin under his large hands. "Yeah, give it to me Jin, make me cum." Kenjaku cooed, rubbing her ass back against his pelvis, making his cock jerk around in her walls, his eyes rolling back in his head at the stimulation. 

Sure, he might be a little delusional, but when Kenjaku seduced him with his wife's face and voice, there was no way he was going to push her away. After all, because of Kenjaku, they were finally able to have the baby they could never have before. 

[bakugoushotwife]

kinktober day one: daddy kink

>>> welcome to the start of kinktober 2023 with ya girl, kylee. i'm so excited to participate this year, with the following that i have, the friends i've made, and the stories we've all worked on so far. i'm so proud of every writer putting in that work this month!

>>> starring: kento nanami x curvy!fem!reader >>> cw: daddy kink-obviously-breeding kink, choking, clit stimulation, marking/ biting mention. creampie, nanami is such a whipped man it's borderline concerning, luv him 5ever >>>wc: 1.6k >>> event masterlist

the air was thick with the scent of sex and sweat, making you gasp out and struggle for breath. or it was due to the thick hand wrapped around your neck, strong and steady against your jumping pulse. he wasn’t like this often, so pent up with need and frustration that kento can’t help but rut into you like he was told he’d never get the chance to again.  his tanned chest heaves with breath, beads of sweat running in and out of the divots of his body. he looks so stunning like this, the honey blond tresses that you love to tug on so much sprawl in every direction, brown eyes zeroed in on every tick of your brow or ‘o’ of your mouth. his gaze was intense, and even if you wanted to look away, you couldn’t. not with his hand on your throat and every ounce of passion in his body driving into your cunt as hard as he can slam in. 

“you take me so well, darling.” he coos, pulling his hand from your neck in favor of pushing your thighs to your chest. he wanted to get a better angle, smiling to himself with a genuine pride as he watches your pretty pink hole swallow his fat cock, silken walls squeezing down on his lengthy shaft everytime it kisses your womb. he can’t help but draw well-timed circles across your clit, relishing the sweet gasps and moans you cry out with. your hands claw at his shoulders to demand him closer to you, and he hisses pleasantly at the sensation. 

“it’s ‘cause you’re made for me, daddy.” you whimper sweetly in his ear, and he’s almost embarrassed at how your saccharine whisper makes his dick jump, his brutal strokes stuttering a bit. your nails dig into his skin and your pussy clenches down on him again as you say it, and he kicks his pace up impossibly faster. his cock is perfect, hitting every spot just right, his girth stretching you every time, usually abusing your cervix like it is now. 

it was no secret he loved that name. loved it to such an extent that you called him that more often than his real name or any other pet name one would traditionally use for their husband–and it started way before you tied the knot. kento nanami hadn’t ever particularly felt special before in his entire life. not even amongst sorcerers. he thought his cursed technique was decent at best, and hated seeing talented sorcerers like satoru gojo walk around without a care in the world. nanami never felt like he had a role in life, settling to just live and work his life away. he would go home and watch shows or cook or maybe get into music–something mindless and low effort. maybe one day he would meet some average lady, probably at a market or bookstore if he had to say. then he would marry that girl and be happy enough. maybe even have a couple of kids while he works at that same job and does his best to stay out of trouble no matter the part of his rebel soul that desires to be known, to be important–necessary. 

so when he met you, the very personification of trouble, by happenstance, he knew his worldview had changed. you were a light he had never seen before, exquisite beauty paired with a bewitching personality and dangerous wit, he was in love with you before he had gotten your name. it was so utterly unlike him, such a logician and pessimist. he didn’t even know how you had wandered in, this location was veiled to non-sorcerers, but kento knew by the looks of you that you weren’t supposed to be there. so he’s surprised when he finds himself protecting you, knowing such a little thing like yourself had somehow bypassed the veil had him worried about you, and as much as he tried to tell himself he would be this concerned for any regular citizen that had wandered into a cursed trap, he knows it’s because he wants to be your hero, and he wants to matter in your story, maybe even become part of it himself. and you’re sweet. so darling he can’t even comprehend how quickly he’s become entranced by you. you talk to him through the entire mission, unable to see the cursed spirits yourself, you can only follow the tall man’s instructions, and clap whenever he waved you back to his side and straightened his patterned tie. 

he thought it was adorable, and even though you had no idea what he was doing, quite literally watching him slash through air with nothing but the foreboding sense of evil confirming the things the man named kento nanami told you about citizens and sorcerers and cursed energy and spirits. you praised him after, thanking him for keeping you safe. you bat your eyelashes at him, the affection in your eyes hard to miss. it was as if you thought the world of him, and it put a paralyzing grip on his heart. he had to see you again, and luckily you tucked your phone into the palm of his hand and smiled that same sun-moon-and-stars smile at him before he summoned the courage to ask for it himself. he programs his contact into your phone, but just the number. he hands it back to you, still on the contact page. you giggle and under the guise of flirtatious joking, put him in as ‘baby daddy.’ 

yeah, you were certainly a bundle of trouble. but kento took pleasure in undoing you layer by layer, getting to know you and growing his love for you day by day. the ‘joke’ of calling him daddy became a very real theme inside and outside the bedroom–only paused when in public. he finally had a role in life, the way you shower him in affection and lull that name off your lips is enough to make him feel whole, like every transgression he had experienced up to this point was a destination on the journey to be your perfect man, someone you put all your trust and love into. he felt like the most important man in the world, being by your side was the greatest reward a man like him could ask for. he had more than he had hoped for, but there was still a few goals left on his list, like seeing himself become your real baby daddy. 

with the way your tits bounce as he fucks into you, cunt squelching and leaking all over the sheets, he thinks this is the perfect time to really try. your sultry babblings of his name prickle goosebumps into his flesh–either that or it’s from your nails raking over his chest to pinch his overly sensitive nipples. his cock twitches against your spongy spot again, and a loud moan tears from your throat. he doesn’t repress the grunt that comes in response, nodding his head to the words that had been on repeat since you said them. “it’s ‘cause you’re made for me, daddy.” 

“that’s my girl, are you ready to be my little baby mama? tell daddy what you want, angel.” he says, withdrawing from your gripping walls  and slamming back in so hard your vision danced with colored orbs, mouth unable to form the words you so desperately wanted to say to him. you nod, feeling trails of saliva slide down your chin, drooling as he brutalizes your cunt. “use your words, darling, daddy needs to hear what you need.” 

“i’m ready daddy, please–god, wanna make you a daddy for real, i’ll give you the prettiest family, i swear!” you cry, the rate at which you spasm around him and claw at his chest tells him that you’re gonna cum again, for maybe the fifth time tonight. you’re so lewd; the sounds you make and the pretty white ring being smeared around by your pussy lips swallowing the adornement back up again and the way your doll-like hands fondle your tits all combining perilously to tip him over the edge.

“i know you are, love. i know, i’ll make sure of it, you know daddy’s got you.” he coos, planting his lips along your neck, going back over dark bruises and teeth marks from the night of passion. then  his balls tighten and his release spurts into you in long bursts, and he feels your pussy throbs and let a stream of cum spray from your cunt, coating his abs in more of your essence then he had ever had the pleasure of before. his smile is wolf-like, his cock still plugging you full. he wants to take you up on it, breeding you to be your baby daddy once and for all. you’re fucked out of your mind, legs twitching with pleasure as you continue to whine and catch your breath. he watches you, everything about your post-orgasm glow making his heart swell as always. you were effortlessly perfect, it was maddening. 

he keeps your hole stopped up until his dick softens, and even then he’s pulling your panties back up, kissing your clit over the bundle. he quickly cleans his stomach up and changes the sheets around you, picking you up when need be. he’s still grinning ear to ear from making you cum like that, so many times and so violently. you’re absolute mush, and because he’s such a good daddy, he’ll spend the rest of the night taking care of his baby girl.

[naffeclipse]

I've been musing over a few thoughts inspired by this ask about a mafia-ish style of Apex Polarity without it being too close to Pearl Eye, and after watching a few videos of Orcas hunting their prey (which included dolphins), landed on a sort of Mafia inspired Apex Polarity AU

Also not to add another Y/N to Orclipse's growing collection but this Y/N is a white-beaked dolphin. Look! They're so beautiful!

Sirens are cunning, brutal, and take everything with teeth and claws. The strongest kill and maim at a whim. As a siren who's not particularly strong, though incredibly agile, with a tail streamlined and dark gray with white patches, fins curved and mostly black, you're somewhere at the bottom. You're doing your best to survive and avoid trouble. You pick your battles and you pick your escapes, and most importantly, you stay alive.

But then you do something really stupid: you venture where you shouldn't have.

You don't usually swim so far up north but you're hungry, and the thought of a few tasty squids distracts you from the silent waters and vast, blue emptiness. You realize a bit too late that you're not the only one hunting.

You catch the first orca siren in the distance as a dark figure, and then another. Two who immediately cut through the water, charging straight for you like shadows. Though you turn tail and bolt, you quickly spot them in the corner of your vision. They easily keep pace, their size and strength overwhelming as they flank you on both sides, wide grins flashing their deadly teeth. You can hardly look at the mismatched color of their eyes as you dodge and weave, diving down only to be cut off by one with midnight blue colors at the tip of his flukes, and shooting off to the left just to almost be snatched by the black-bone claws of a siren with bright yellow fins framing his head.

They're toying with you. You know that for a fact in how they just barely keep back, corraling you onwards, draining your already spent energy, and picking at your panicking pulse. You have no choice but to avoid the edges of their jaws and the tips of their talons, and swim in the direction they want.

You near a field of ice floes floating on the water, and though you cut into the jagged structures dipping into the sea, the orca sirens never lose you. A desperate need for air pushes you onward. One small drop of hope still burns in your chest. Despite the aching of your muscles, you steal a gulp of oxygen and dip back down once more, charging away—

Only to run smack into a third orca siren.

This one grabs you, his burning red and orange colors filling your vision. The other two orcas join to help their kin keep you in place long enough for you to truly regret ever venturing here. Between the three of what you can only assume are brothers, hands hooked over you shoulders, claws clutching your wrists, and palms pressing into your hips, you're a fish caught in a net.

You brace for a voilent end. It never arrives. Instead of digging into your sweet meat, the sirens offer you a deal. The tips of sharp fingertips trace your jawline and the soft inside of your arms and down your slick tail while they explain.

You keep watch for human ships and report back when they're getting close, and in exchange, you get the best food you can imagine, the entire Arctic Ocean to swim, and anything else you'd like. The best benefit? You're under their protection. Of course, they expect utter loyalty from you. You are no one else's. Failure to devote yourself to this work and the brothers would mean a grisly fate, but hey, you're nothing if not eager to not be torn apart. So you agree.

You have a few questions about this whole arrangement, struggling to understand why they, powerful orca sirens, bother with a smaller fish like you when they could rip you limb from limb and be done. What's with the human ships? Why task you to this? Are you just fodder so they can keep their fins nice and unscabbed? They reassure you that they'll explain in due time (the sunny one booping your nose, much to your chagrin), but for now, all you know to know is that the human ships are a problem, and you are their solution for it. You've never really encountered humans before, but they've never really encountered sirens, or so you thought.

The burning red one lets you go, but you don't slip away too far before he tugs on your flukes and tells you to follow him. It's not a request. The darker blue one leaves for a moment, jetting away as the other two guide you to a nice resting place on an icy shore. They introduce themselves, and then their brother reappears with a squid in hand, half dead, and an insistence that you eat—they could tell during the chase that you didn't have all your energy.

And that's how you unwittingly join a very powerful pod of orca brothers who may or may not be teasing and taunting you simultaneously.

[myfictionaldreams]

Did the reader ever used the safeword with Bucky and Steve? And how did they react/ deal with it?🥺

The Limit // Mafia!Stucky x Fem!Reader

Summary: Everyone has a limit, this includes Steve and Bucky. What happens in different situations where each of you felt compelled to use your safewords?

A/N: thank you for the request! this has actually been requested quite a few times so I hope you all enjoy!

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, fluff, angst, threesome, safeword use, rough sex, anal, intense, overstimulation, restraints, blindfolds, punishment, spanking, anxiety attacks, protective steve/bucky, emotional hurt/comfort, aftercare, teasing, begging, subspace, pet names, everyone needs a hug, not beta read

Words: 5.1k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

ღREADERღ

During your intimate moments with Steve and  Bucky, there was nothing more important than communication. If you liked something, let each other know. If you wanted to slow down or pause, just simply say the word yellow or tap your fingers once. If you needed everything to stop immediately, whether it was to reposition or discontinue the action, then you’d say the word red or shake your head.

It was a good system to have, especially during moments when scenes would become more intense or rough, needing to know what the limits of the other are, how the fun could continue or the aftercare to begin. Communicating was key.

For example, on one occasion of using the safe word ‘red’, your wants and needs were more than your body could physically cope with.

You were absolutely and truly fucked, sweat coating your body, eyes dazed, the pupils so wide it gave the appearance that your iris’ were shaded black. You were deep into subspace, no thoughts making coherent sense other than the need to pleasure Steve and Bucky, saying anything the try and get more of them, even if it was pushing yourself over the edge. At that moment though, you didn’t care, having orgasmed so many times that your body was refusing to move of your own accord with how weak your muscles felt but luckily Steve and Bucky were more than happy to move you into whatever position you or they wanted.

Currently, you were bent over the desk in Steve’s at-home office, the sturdy oak rubbing against your stomach with each thrust from Bucky’s cock into your arse as your body writhed and pulsed through its unknown number orgasm. At this point, your mouth was permanently opening with the stream of pornographic moans coming out.

Even though you were completely exhausted and definitely should have had a break, or just completely stopped but all your spacey cock-drunk mind could think of was the fact that Steve and Bucky hadn’t cum yet and you needed for them to fill you up. Their stamina was sometimes the best thing but also the worst, when your desperation to get them to their own orgasms but your body was completely exhausted. Particularly in between your legs, your clit was overly sensitive that every touch had you jolting, and your pussy was puffy from the fucking from both men.

“Want you both at the same time, please…” you groaned, words slurring slightly as you attempted to look over your shoulder to Bucky who stroked a hand down your spine, his hips paused to allow your body to adjust to the orgasm but his cock was still very much deep in your ass.

“Think you can handle us, Doll?” Bucky asked with a soft gaze in his eye, trying to assess if you were actually ok to continue. To his right, Steve was doing the same thing, his hand moving up and down his shaft at a leisurely pace.

There was one thing you were good at and that was begging as you pushed your hips back against his, not really pondering on the discomfort that came with it. “Please daddies, want you both, wanna feel full”.

That seemed to convince them enough that the comfort of the cool wood against your face was replaced with Steve’s shoulder as Bucky had wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you with simplicity due to his inhuman strength. Your back was flush against his chest as Steve pushed against your front, his hands firmly under your knees to help keep you upright as your heavy head lolled onto his muscular shoulder.

“Pleaseeee”, you whined, sounding out of breath with the exhaustion of the rough sex you’d been having.

“I’ve got you baby”, Steve encouraged, his cock brushing against your clit as he tried to position it at your dripping hole. With your face now hiding in the crevice of Steve’s shoulder, neither he nor Bucky could see your visible wince due to the discomfort but still you held on to his blonde hair that curled slightly at the nape of his neck.

However, as Steve’s thick cock slipped into your over-used pussy, your low grunt that you made to match the instant tensing of all your muscles, Steve and Bucky’s eyes blazed with concern as they looked at each other over your shoulder.

“Hot Mama, what’s your colour?” Bucky questioned for your safe word, having already half-deciding that if you said green he wouldn’t believe you, blaming the subspace for pushing yourself past the limit of pleasure.

You had felt fuzzy when they’d first picked you up, but now, the discomfort and stinging from between your legs seemed to push some clarity back. Of course, you felt bad that Steve and Bucky still hadn’t cum but you knew it would cause more upset if they continued and caused you any further injury so accepting defeat, shoulders dropping, words now sounding more clear, “red”.

Steve and Bucky both loosened their position so they weren’t so squished against their bodies but still carefully held you up.

“Take a deep breath in and slowly release”, Steve instructed and as you breathed out, both cocks were simultaneously pulled out of your holes and you instantly felt relief. “Good girl, thank you for being honest with us, we’re going to look after you, ok?” Steve’s voice was gentle, as he continued to explain what was going to happen. “I’m going to wrap your legs around my waist and we’re all going to go to the bathroom, whilst Bucky gets you something to drink”.

This was exactly what they did, Steve taking all of your weight, wrapping your legs around his waist and then holding underneath your thighs to keep you upright as your body still felt like it was made of jello. You weren’t sure what to say, only thankful that you could trust these two men that would stop getting their own pleasure, so you kissed his neck softly, showing that you appreciated him. Steve’s grip tightened around you as he began walking out of the office and to the en-suit bathroom in your bedroom.

“Shower or bath?” he asked, mumbling the question against your temple, kissing the hairline even though you were still sheeted in sweat.

You contemplated for a moment, scrapping your fingers through his hair and decided that you wanted to be weightless and have just a moment to sit back and process everything. “A bath please”.

Steve filled the excessively large bathtub with hot, soapy water, knowing you all needed the heat to help relax the exserted muscles. Still holding you, he settled down, into the water, releasing a deep moan that vibrated against your chest as his grip on your thighs relaxed as you both were submerged.

His touch however didn’t end as he instead wrapped both of his arms around your back, holding you close to his front still. You felt safe in the embrace and the heat of the water soaking into your body, soothing the ache in your muscles and stinging between your legs.

A tap on your head alerted you to Bucky’s arrival as he crouched next to you, holding out a glass of orange juice with a reassuring smile. “Drink up mama, let’s start building up that energy, I’ve got some snacks on the bed as well”. Gently, Bucky tilted the glass to your mouth, helping you to drink the sugary drink that instantly quenched the thirst you didn’t realise you felt but also made you feel slightly more energised as you snuggled back against Steve.

The water lapped against the sides as Bucky climbed into the spacious bath, sliding in close to your side and kissing your bare shoulder, hand stroking over your upper back and with the sheer size of both of your boyfriend’s hands, the entire span of your back was not covered by Steve and Bucky.

“Are you ready to talk about it?” Bucky asked in between kisses along your skin. You nodded in response, pushing up off of Steve’s chest, testing your own strengths, surprising yourself when you were actually able to sit back fully on his thighs, noting the soft cock that now floated between your bodies in the soapy water. A pang of guilt settled in the pit of your stomach as you now looked between both boyfriends.

Steve tilted your chin with a single finger, making you look into his crystal-blue eyes, “I don’t like that look you’ve got, I’m glad you used your safe word, it’s the reason we’ve got them and Buck and I don’t need to cum to have a good time, do you understand that?”

“Yeah, I do”, you responded honestly.

“Good. Do you want to explain to us what happened?”

The three of you talked through everything, discussing what could be done differently next time like saying yellow and having a break or not trying to do every single sexual act possible in one evening. You even cheekily blamed their stamina for being too strong which earned a hearty laugh from them both before cuddling back onto Steve’s chest for a couple more minutes.

“Let’s get out of here honey”, Steve decided, beginning to shift to stand.

Your legs were still incredibly unsteady so you held on desperately to Steve as Bucky dried you with a fresh, warm towel, being careful over tender areas before helping to slip an oversized shirt over your head.

“Come here!”, you squealed as Bucky enthusiastically picked you up bridal style, kissing your cheek as your arms settled around his waist. It always felt odd when you were the one semi-clothed and your boyfriends were in the nude, usually, it was the other way around but you enjoyed it nonetheless, even though you’d been getting fucked by both of them not that long ago, you still admired their beautifully structured bodies.

“Eyes up, baby”, Steve joked from where he walked behind you, drying himself as he walked, purposelessly flexing his arms so the muscles bulged, and you bite your lip to hide your grin.

Bucky gently lay you in the centre of the bed, next to the collection of randomly selected snacks that ranged from sweets and chocolate to fresh fruits. The brunette slide in closely beside you, reaching around the begin rooting through the snacks before feeding you a couple of raspberries.

It was a peaceful end to the day and the complete opposite of how you thought it would be. The way they both tended to your needs meant that you were lost in a fuzzy headspace and even though your body would undoubtedly ache in the morning, you were just glad that you were with two men that always put your needs above their own and made you feel safe.

ღBUCKYღ

The safe word wasn’t just for you though and there had been occasions where Bucky had to use it as well.

You were 10 spanks into a punishment, thrown haphazardly over Steve’s meaty thighs, your body completely nude and arse cheeks raw to the touch from Steve’s palm. You were thoroughly enjoying the roughness but Bucky on the other hand thought Steve was going too rough, ignoring your pleasured moans and sopping wet cunt to show your signs of arousal.

Internally, Bucky was panicking from where he watched in a chair opposite Steve. His fists were clenched painfully, not that he could send the pain from his metal arm but the gears creaked from how tightly he was tightening his hand. Bucky never enjoyed it when Steve was super rough with you, even though you were adamant that you enjoyed it, Bucky hated to see the pain that came with the pleasure. You were his sweet Doll, you deserved the best and he always thought it was counterproductive to do harsh punishments. This was also why it was Bucky’s job during these moments to make sure to say if things went too far as sometimes you would slip into a headspace that wouldn’t care for your safety and let Steve continue until you passed out, and this, they definitely didn’t want.

Most of the time, Bucky was fine watching, allowing Steve to do any of the rougher sides of things during sex but today, there was something that didn’t settle right within Bucky. Without processing what he was doing, he moved off of his chair and squatted down next to your face from where it stared at the floor. As soon as you felt his cool metal palm stroke your cheek, you reached to hold onto the wrist, keeping him there.

Steve’s hand continued to lay spanks against your arse, each one you gasped and then thanked him for it as per your punishment rules and if you forget, then he starts again.

Bucky wiped away the tears that always seemed to fall during these moments, “are you ok, mama?” he asks under his breath.

“Yeah”, you say with a quiver in your voice, another tear sliding down your cheek. Bucky looked up at Steve with uncertainty in his eyes, unsure whether you were actually fine to continue or it was just Bucky who was feeling anxious and unnerved. Steve raised a single perfect eyebrow, questioning Bucky’s look and this was where you sensed the silent conversation that was happening. “Please sir, I can handle it, I’m ok”, you reassured Steve to continue with a simple shake of your hips.

Steve glanced at Bucky one more time before continuing. Three more strikes later and you released a different sort of whine one that gave Bucky pure panic that rocked his core, not being able to hear it sounded like you were in pain as he suddenly shouted, “RED!”

Steve immediately stopped, his eyes filling with panic as he helped to lay you on the bed, careful of your sore arse but he needed to see your face. “Baby? Are you ok? Talk to me”, Steve encouraged as he stood over you.

Blinking back tears, your body was trembling with adrenaline but you were clearly confused by the sudden stop to the punishment, disorientated as you didn’t say to stop. “Im…I’m ok, I didn’t need to stop, m’fine”, you mumbled, your tongue feeling too big for your mouth.

Steve frowned, even though you were confused, he could clearly see she wasn’t at any point to stop, not showing any visible signs of being in significant pain or distress. Confused he turned to Bucky who had stood, breathing heavily like he’d just been for a run, his eyes wild and darting between his friend and you.

“I thought she- she sounded like she was in pain I… I didn’t-.. I couldn’t-”, Bucky hastily rubbed a hand over his face, struggling to fill his lungs with air as his panic continued to escalate. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the confusion of hearing you whimpering in pain or the realisation that he’d stopped something you were clearly enjoying or the disappointment that Steve was bound to feel for stopping a scene early, or just a mixture of everything.

In his panic, he didn’t see Steve standing to his full height, his face calm and understanding as he approached Bucky with his hands outstretched, “Bucky, calm down, she’s ok, she’s not hurt”, the mafia leader tried to calm his second in command, sensing the edge of composure that Bucky had was close to slipping.

“Yeah…yeah she’s ok…” Bucky repeated, trying to almost convince himself but it wasn’t much use as he was close to a panic attack, something he hadn’t experienced since his time in the war with Steve many years ago.

“Bucky?” it was you now to notice the distress of your boyfriend. Even though you still continued to feel confused, your own anxiety was beginning to creep up with seeing Bucky’s panic. With a weak attempt, you tried to reach for him, your hands still visibly trembling from the comedown of the punishment, your eyes now filling with tears as you didn’t manage to grasp onto Bucky.

“I’m- I’m sorry I just-”, Bucky turned away, running his hands over his trimmed hair, trying to get some composure, seeing you actually becoming distressed with seeing him like this. From your position on the bed, you watched Steve stand in front of his friend, so he was facing in your direction, his expression concerned as he placed a strong hand on Bucky’s shoulder. Steve leaned in close to Bucky, talking seriously but in a hushed tone “Buck listen to me, she’s fine, take a breath for me, she’s alright”.

You wanted nothing more than to be with Bucky and make sure that he was ok, rarely ever seeing him like this. Forcefully, you tried to shake your body from head to toe, attempting to snap out of the confused state you were in, your boyfriend needed you, so you needed to get a hold of yourself. With great effort and a heavy grunt, you rolled onto your side, swinging your legs in front of you to try and stand on them.

However, they were still very unsteady and you weren’t able to push off of the bed. Steve noticed over Bucky’s shoulder what you were attempting to do and quickly rushed forward to stop you from falling, “Baby be careful, we still need to do aftercare, stay on the bed”.

“But I need Bucky”, your voice wobbled as you looked at Steve with sadness and fear.

Hearing you say that seemed to snap Bucky out of his feared trance and he was kneeling in front of you in a couple of steps, but you still noticed the way he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, “I’m here Doll, I’ve got you”.

Finally having him close, you tried to wrap your arms around his shoulders, leaning close to hug him but it ended up being more than he was holding your body up but he was more than happy to do that. Repositioning the two of you, Bucky effortlessly manoeuvred your body into his lap as he sat on the edge of the bed, being careful of your sore arse cheeks as he positioned your legs on either side of his hips in a straddle.

Neither of you says anything as you continue to build more strength and hold onto his shoulders firmer, face nuzzling into his neck, trying to reassure him that you were ok. Your fingers still held a slight tremble but you stroked circled onto the back of his head, making sure you were feeling more aware before you began to speak, “I’m ok James”.

The use of had his sagging, the tension running from his body as Steve returned from the kitchen, carrying two glasses of water forcing you and Bucky to finish them. All three of you sat in comfortable silence for a couple of minutes, allowing for the tension that had been thick in the air to disappear as you and Bucky regained composure.

It was Bucky who spoke first, wishing to explain himself even though this was unnecessary, “I’m sorry, I think you were in pain and I just couldn’t bare to listen to it-”.

You cut him off by leaning back, looking into his eyes with a sad smile, “It’s ok, you don’t have to explain anything, I’m sorry I distressed you so much Bucky”. Leaning forward, you closed the gap between your mouths, kissing him softly and letting him just feel you for a moment, helping his tense posture to relax further.

Steve sat beside his friend, returning his comfortable hand to his shoulder. “Sometimes we can all get a little lost in the moment but that’s why we have the safe words, it’s for all of us, to protect us, that’s what this relationship is about. I’m sorry it ever got to this point Bucky”.

“I know, thank you, both of you”, he sounded relieved and significantly more calm as he kissed your bare shoulder.

Steve nods, passing an affectionate hand on the back of Bucky’s head before standing, returning from the bathroom with the salve for your burning arsecheeks, asking with a questioning eyebrow, “Would you like to do it or shall I?”

Bucky contemplated for a moment, thinking it would be nice to be able to soothe your sore cheeks but he was also enjoying the embrace and decided he’d much prefer to stay like that, “You can do it, Steve, I want to stay right here”, his arms tightening around your body as your nuzzled in closer to him.

From the position you were being held in with straddling Bucky’s lap, it still meant that Steve could massage the salve into your cheeks and you tried not to wince at the touch but then the salve instantly soothed your hot skin.

As he finished, he looked up at Bucky who was watching his movements carefully, “You know, we didn’t manage to finish the scene - not the punishment, that’s finished, but she wasn’t given the reward and I don’t want her to go through a subdrop tomorrow, what do you say Bucky? Want to reward her for being such a good girl”.

Steve already knew the answer from the way Bucky’s eyes darkened, his throat bobbing as he swallowed harshly. There was nothing Bucky wanted more than to hear your sweet moans, especially after the panic of hearing you in pain, he wanted to make you feel good, “I would love nothing more than to do that”. You smiled against Bucky’s neck, looking forward to what was to come, planning your own reward to Bucky.

ღSTEVEღ

Steve held a significant amount of authority in his life, being the leader of his mafia gang, making all of the decisions to benefit others or take away their lives. So often in your relationship, you always joked about being in control for once and even attempted it on a few occasions by handcuffing Steve’s hands to the bed.

However, with his strength, he was easily able to snap out of them and regain control of the situation. It was Bucky who had the bright idea of using his strength that matched Steve’s to hold him down. This led to the current situation of Steve sitting in his office chair that was positioned in the middle of the room and his hands behind his back where Bucky held them with his metal hand.

All three of you were completely nude and you watched excitedly as Steve’s cock throbbed against his abdomen, desperate to be touched.

“Are you ready?”, you asked with giddy excitement, not bothering to hide your grin as you held the blindfold in your hand.

“More than ever, baby”, Steve responded with just as much enthusiasm, eyes taking in every inch of your naked body, trying to see as much as he could before he was blindfolded. With a seductive swing of your hips, you stepped forward in between Steve’s man-spread legs and placed the eyemask over his head, making sure it was secure and there weren’t any gaps that he could see out of. Steve was plunged into darkness, his arms flexing momentarily to check to hold Bucky had on him, only to find that it was very firm, there was no way he was getting out of it.

Grinning at Bucky over Steve’s shoulder, you began by placing a simple kiss on Steve’s lips, feeling him try and press firmer but you pulled back before he could try and gain control.

You thoroughly teased Steve for a bit, nipping and kissing the column of his neck before straddling one of his thighs, rolling your bare core against him so he could feel your arousal, watching his cock throb at the touch. It was exhilarating to see him in such a state and even though you never liked to really be in control of these moments, much preferring to be submissive, it was thrilling to hear the desperate groans of the most dangerous leader in all of Brooklyn, as you touched him everywhere except his cock.

Steve was both enjoying the dynamic and also finding it hard to adjust to not being able to see or touch your body with his hands. He always liked seeing you had a little bit more dominance but to take away his control completely was a different step he’d never taken before.

“Want to see you”, he admits, mouth hanging open to release a heavy breath as you stroked a firm line down his abs, once again skipping over his member. You don’t say anything but Bucky watches as you grinned, his own cock throbbing painfully hard as seeing the way you were teasing his friend.

“Please baby, I wanna see you”, Steve repeats, now realising just how much he missed your pretty face. You continue to not say anything, thinking that it added to the tension, especially as a bead of precum dripped from the tip.

The next part of your plan involved one of your favourite vibrators planning on holding it against Steve’s cock but as you stood to retrieve it, from the way you’d been straddling his thigh for so long, your legs felt slightly unsteady as you stumbled and accidentally stubbed your toe on the metal table leg.

You automatically squealed in pain, quickly smacking a hand to your mouth to stop any further yellow, looking back at Bucky with wide eyes as you tried not to laugh and cry from the pain at the same time. Of course, you still managed to be clumsy in such a sexual moment like you were currently in, silently thankful that Steve hadn’t seen otherwise he’d be teasing you endlessly.

Bucky was trying not to laugh as well, biting his lip as held in his chuckle, not noticing the way that Steve had tensed.

“Baby?��� the restrained man asked, turning his head, not that he could see you. Your silent laughter to him sounded almost like you were crying with his heightened hearing, “Are you ok? What’s happening?”

You were still hobbling on one foot, massaging the pained toe with one hand whilst covering your mouth with the other hand, keeping in your increasing laughter. Because you were so distracted with easing the pain in your toe, you hadn’t noticed Steve going on high alert, spine straight, his arm muscles bulging from attempts to pull free of Bucky’s unbreakable grip.

It was only as he began to verbalise his panic, did you realise something was wrong, “Let go of me! RED!” Steve shouted with desperation causing both yours and Bucky’s hearts to hammer in your chests. Bucky immediately let go and Steve was instantly pulling off his mask as you rushed to limp over, arms reaching out to him.

“Are you ok? What’s wrong?” your hands cupped his distressed face, eyes wide with panic as he looked you over, seeing not life-threatening injuries before pulling you into his lap, forehead resting against your chest as you held him to you.

Steve doesn’t say anything immediately, just simply held you close as he tried to process what had just happened. Bucky walked around the chair, squatting down so he was eye level with the two of you as he asked, “Steve? What’s going on?”

Your fingers stroked gently through his hair, hoping that the touch was helping to calm him. “I’m sorry Steve, did we take it too far?”. You thought maybe it was the lack of control that had him panicking.

Steve’s voice was muffled as he spoke against your skin, “It… it wasn’t the control I didn’t like, I just couldn’t see you, I couldn’t get out... If someone came in, if someone came to get you I couldn’t get to you-”

He began to struggle with controlling his breathing again so you quietly shushed into his ear, holding him closer and realised that it wasn’t the lack of control with sex that he didn’t like. It was because he thought you were hurt and he couldn’t get to you and assumed the worst. You immediately felt guilty having caused him such distress.

“I’m always safe when you’re around Steve, I’m sorry I scared you”. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly as he finally pulled back to look into your eyes, taking a deep breath that filled his lungs completely before releasing it.

But then he notices something out of the corner of his eye, the panic returning once more as he stated, “You’re bleeding”.

You glanced down to where he was looking and finally noticed that where you’d walked into the table, you’d formed a small cut that had bled only a few drops of blood.

“Shit”, you say under your breath, looking back into his worried face as Bucky instantly held onto your foot, his metal hand helping to cool the hot skin. “I stumbled when I stood up and hit my toe on the metal legs of the table, it’s just me being clumsy that’s all, I’m not seriously hurt”.

Steve sighed, now understanding the noise he’d heard, his forehead dropping onto your shoulder as you nuzzled into his hair, holding him close. After a few minutes of him calming down, you asked, “Everything ok?”

The man in your arms leaned back, looking ashamed now as he began to speak, “Sorry for killing the mood-”, your hand was fast to cover his lips, cutting off his words.

“Nope, I’m not having that”, you say simply, giving him a stern look.

“Yeah man, we want you to enjoy times like this, remember? You always remind us that these words are there for a reason, if you feel unsafe then you have to use them no matter what”.

“It’s not my safety I was worried about”, Steve responded honestly whilst looking up at you.

Leaning forward, you kissed each of his cheeks gently, seeing his eyes close at the touch before you kissed his lips, trying to show how much you appreciated him with the touch. Leaning your forehead against his, you affectionately joked, “Always my knight in shining armour”.

Bucky stood beside you, catching both of your attention as he light heartened decided the next steps, “Let’s get dressed, get some take out and go home”. Gently he patted Steve’s shoulder and rubbed your back before walking over to the dumped clothes from earlier.

What you hadn’t been expecting was Steve standing suddenly with you in his arms still, “You can put me down!” you’re laughing as you say this, holding tightly onto his neck.

Steve finally smiled, “Not with your foot injury”, he jokes but you knew it was more than that with the way he was stroking your skin with his thumb and the intense gaze with which he looked at you. You knew he needed to feel you closer, even with the immediate danger having been explained to him, he needs to just make sure that you were safe.

[animefeminist]

Resilience and Resistance: Reimagining marginality and agency in The Apothecary Diaries

Content warning: discussion of violence against sex workers, abuse, sexually transmitted disease, historical misogyny

Spoilers for The Apothecary Diaries Season 1

The Apothecary Diaries presents a richly detailed world inspired by dynastic China, where the social framework is deeply intertwined with notions of aestheticized masculinity and the romanticised construction of pleasure districts. Through the viewpoint of its protagonist, Maomao, who was raised in the red-light district and now works in the palace, the series delves into the complexities of these highly gendered settings, particularly through the lens of courtesanship and royal polygamy—two institutions that govern the lives of women in this society based on Confucian principles, and where various female characters nonetheless carve out their own agency within these structures. 

The series opens by portraying the red-light district (or hanamachi) not as a taboo, shadowy place but as a vibrant, bustling setting full of realized characters. This is clear even from the opening minutes of the anime: as Maomao navigates the narrow alleys of the hanamachi, she is greeted by the familiar rhythm of life. Traditional string instruments play lively music, autumn leaves fall, and red lanterns glow warmly from balconies, enhancing the district’s energy. The hanamachi pulses with life—from extravagantly dressed courtesans preparing for the night to customers haggling with the proprietress. The courtesans, draped in luxurious fabrics, exude elegance and allure, while young girls in training assist them in their intricate routines. This lively world, full of ritual and artistry, contrasts sharply with the rigid outside society, embodying survival and cultural expression.

While this place exists on the margins of so-called polite society due to its connection to the taboo world of sex work, Maomao’s matter-of-fact treatment of the district and the women who work there invites the audience to reject this notion that the hanamachi and its courtesans are somehow “other” or impure—they are, as Maomao’s interactions with them show, just people. This is a departure from the exoticized and dehumanized ways that other historical-inspired and/or fantasy series often treat sex workers. Though the energy of the setting is quite different, Maomao takes this same attitude to the concubines when she begins her indentured work at the Rear Palace. The Apothecary Diaries consistently treats its female characters with nuance and sympathy, and allows space in the narrative to explore how these different women react to and survive within the structures they have found themselves in.

Read it at Anime Feminist!

[chaosandmarigolds]

sześć 🚑

EMS AU Thingy!!

summary: Simon Riley finds himself utterly and hopelessly in love with the newest medic on base, and during this EMS refresher he attempts to ‘make a move’ unfortunately he has the social skills of a five year old.

for the record you…you were a tough skinned woman, you were able to handle pain and you certainly didn’t get flustered. All the same, this situation…this was something.

“What do you-“ you groan as you get the same question asked for the tenth time ‘are you sure you want it as tight as if it was real?’ And you huff out, “Yes. I’m bleeding, I will die if you don’t get the stupid tourniquet on.”

Johnny, who volunteered to go first stares at you with wide eyes, “Don’t wanna hurt ya lassie.”

“No, I’m already hurt, I’m bleeding out from an artery! Hurt me more if it keeps me alive, what am I gonna do? Scream at you and then die? Rather it hurt a lil’ bit but be alive.” The words were snapped out and you keep your arm outreached from where you sat, you could tell he was feeling a little antsy so with a groan you stand up, walking over to your bag- you had already stripped down to your tank top to make it easy for a tourniquet to be applied and you grab the bottle of fake blood, lord knew how long it had been sitting it that small bag.

“Would you rather me be in character? Screaming and wailing-“ when he shook his head violently you nodded and set the bottle back down, going back to where you were sitting.

once again he faltered, looking between the tourniquet and you, so with a frown you lean forward, “Hurt me.”

if only you could see how Kyle nearly gagged on his water or even how the captain looked up from his phone with a more the mildly intrigued gaze. Especially the dear (odd) lieutenant, who had taken to standing behind the chair for some odd reason.

You quickly realized why, as the tourniquet tightened and the throbbing pain on your arm began to pinch (it’s not the tightness, it’s more of the skin pinch) you tilted your head back, to be met with the masked creature staring down at the…or maybe you? You couldn’t tell. “The worse part is the skin pinch, ya know.” The words were a bit rasped due to the state of your breathing, because good lord Sergeant MacTavish could tighten a tourniquet.

The lieutenants eyebrows raise, or thought they did, “M sorry. Johnny let er go.”

“Check for a pulse,” you quickly correct, looking down at the poor man, stuck in headlights, “Always check for a pulse after applying a tourniquet or a splint.”

you couldn’t feel your hand. So you had no idea if you had a pulse. And so, Kyle went next on your other arm, and he was nice about it, double checking he had somehow managed to get no skin pinch- something you, until that moment, said was impossible with a tourniquet. Then the Captain, who was particularly gentle, out and out refusing to tighten it all the way on your leg. Then came the lieutenant.

“I was shot in my thigh, I’m dying.” You state deadpanned, holding out the tourniquet for him to take. So when he took the small device you leaned back in the chair, extending your leg.

One thing you realized is that the Lieutenant was very…focused, as he was just then, with one hand he had lifted your leg up and slipped the tourniquet over, and then within another moment it was strapped. Which alone even without turning, it was insanely tight, and the leg- well those just flat out hurt, you could feel your pulse in your inner thigh and your heart began to race.

“It’s unrealistic.”

you hum, snapping your gaze to where you had fixated it on the wall, and to the man, the sound you made was…borderline pathetic, more like a shaky groan, “Lie…Riley, what? What-what do you mean, unrealistic?”

The man shrugged and then tightened the tourniquet with a 360 turn of the windlass, and you bit down on your tongue. “You getting hurt I mean.”

“I-i was on the field it hap-happens, ya know?” God, stuttering? The bar was calling your name tonight.

His eyes snap up to yours, and he turns the windlass…again, “Wouldn’t let it happen.”

There was a stiff silence and you then rasp out, “Check my pulse and then let it go…please, Riley.”

(…cringe? Yeah I know, but in my defense tourniquets hurt like a dog and this was literally my entire idea for that whole segment. So…yeah! Comments and feedback make me a better writer and person, toodles!!)

[sluttysanemi]

AHHH !!

i have this request with sanemi or even obanai, smut ofc although i love comfort & fluff !

sanemi or obanai during&after nnn (no nut november) ???

🤍 🤍

ੈ✩‧₊˚ – MORNING ARISES.

c/w: smut, thigh fucking, mirror sex? , established relationship

a/n: i promise ill write 4 obanai one day i jst rlly like writing and posting sanemi.. also what do we think of fallen angel sanemi?? idk that could be pretty hot

A new morning dawns as another month begins. You groggily vacate from your bed, as segments of light emerge through the window. It'd been an uproarious month, particularly for Sanemi- who slept, half asleep, beside you.

He restricted himself of you the entire november, for particularly petty reasons. There was no intimacy across those days, and you knew he grew desperate by the second week.

This was, however, not what rang across your mind. Rather, you proceed to your customary morning routine, shuffling your body to the common bathroom.

Gazing at the mirror across, you crank the tap, letting the water stream along your palm; before splashing it against your face. You clear the nightly buildup your body formed upon your face, whilst awaking yourself. 

While performing your morning dues, Sanemi would promptly stumble from the sheets. You could hear the heavy thud of his feet as he staggered along the floorboards to the lavatory. His rich sandalwood fragrance quickly spreads across the small space. You whispered an earnest greeting, as you continued. 

It was until he suddenly drew closer, throwing his robust arms along your waist and sinking his face in the crook of your neck. His chest was rigorous against your back,  you could feel the faint twitch of his pectorals. His hips were particularly close, as he pressed against you boldly.

It was evident he was still half slumbering as he laid his light lips against the exact region upon your shoulder.

“Missed ya so much…”, he spoke dazedly. 

You swiftly realized what he meant, as he drove his hips against you. You could feel the hard contour of his famished shaft as it pushed along. He dressed only in his boxers, thus you could feel every detail of his length, as it struggled against the thin fabric of the garment.

“Please…”, Sanemi uttered. 

Your cheeks flush, and your breathing grows heavy. You grant his plea with a subtle nod,  watching as he slowly tugs at your panties, exposing your cunt to the warm air. 

He follows, pulling his firm dick from his waistband. His rigid cock lubricated with the sinful beads of his pre, as it trails downwards.

Still barely conscious, he struggles to push himself into you, instead driving between your thighs. You could feel his veins throbbing against your clit, whilst he groans in ecstasy. It hadn't mattered where he was buried, you still felt phenomenal. 

He took a firm hold of your hips, and began to move slowly, humping himself between your legs. 

You could feel him rutting against your lower lips, as your slick stained his cock. He pulsed with excitement. 

“Hnn.. so good f’me… so soft…”, Sanemi’s words spilled incoherently, his mind clouded with pleasure. 

You looked wistfully to the mirror, your cheeks a deep scarlet. His cock pushes against you endlessly, while you clutch to your bathroom's surface.

A hand would slowly surface along your body, wrapping itself around your tit. His fingers delicately pinch at the soft nub, eliciting a groan from your lips. You grind yourself against him, desperately yearning for more of him, more of his desperation. 

His head separates from your shoulder, tilting back, as his hips grow more fervent. The sound of his labored breathing and the feel of his skin on yours send thrills down your spine.

His grip tightens around you, his rough nails pressing into your skin. His breath feels hot on your neck, his presence overwhelming and stifling.

“Fuck… s–so-.. Shit–..”, he pants endlessly. He's pulsating ceaselessly, so close to achieving a rush that he's starved himself completely of. His firm tip continually humping against you, twitching in elation as he feels the clench of your thighs, strumming against his sensitive skin. 

His balls begin to tighten, as his ability of thought fades. 

With a few more ruts of his hips, he spills himself, his spurts of pleasure trickling between your thighs, and the counter- too eager to feel ashamed of having finished so swiftly.

His formerly cruel fingers begin to gently knead your hips, while he splays kisses around your neck. You tilt your head backwards, indulging into his expression of affection. 

“C’mon, sweet girl… ‘nother one. Wanna show you how bad I missed you.”, Sanemi coos softly, against your ear.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

thinking about book 6 battle simulations

I was thinking a lot about book 6 lately! (Not for any particular reason, I was just ruminating, haha...)

During the examination segment, Riddle, Azul, and Vil were put into one group and Jamil and Leona were put in the other group. Idia then put them into VR simulations in which (simulated) Trey, Jade, Rook, Kalim, and Ruggie approached the subjects to upset them. This is for the purposes of STYX to gauge their combative capabilities and blot accumulation. What I noticed on another read of these parts was that Idia makes sure to inform all the subjects they are about to enter a VR simulation BEFORE they dive in... and yet despite this, group 1 (Riddle, Azul, Vil) was still caught off-guard when Trey, Jade, and Rook attacked them. Meanwhile, Jamil in group 2 automatically defers to Kalim but Leona is the one who notices something is fishy about the situation. Now, now... this is interesting 👁️ Why might this be, I wonder~ (You bet I'm going to analyze the heck out of these small details!)

***Main story spoilers up to book 6!!***

First thing to consider: it's possible that perhaps the characters don't fully understand what "VR simulation" is, as most of them did take a while to come to their senses. Of the 5 subjects, Riddle is the most likely to fall into this category. He seems to be slightly confused by the concept of a "virtual space" when Idia explains the examination to them (which likely conflicts with Riddle's very traditional understanding of "tests"). Furthermore, Riddle has expressed in Endless Halloween Night that his mother did not allow him to play video games or to watch TV so he'd usually do crosswords or solve other puzzles for fun. He's not completely technologically inept (like Malleus), but Riddle does have a somewhat limited scope of how items and procedures are to be used, especially if it lies beyond its normal means. It's likely that he has not thought of VR simulation being used in the scenario in which he finds himself in now.

The other 4 subjects, however, most likely understand what VR is and shouldn't be confused by the simulation. Azul is very savvy and keeps up with trends, which can factor into his business(es). He even brings up streaming as a potential source of revenue in book 6; man has his fingers on the pulse of pop culture to know what will sell. Vil, being a celebrity and the leader of the Film Research Club, must have an understanding of various technologies used to achieve certain effects (especially as director of his own projects). Jamil constantly deals with Kalim's requests and, being in Kalim's social bubble, must get exposure to all kinds of crazy technologies. Leona, being a knowledgeable prince, surely must understand the concept of VR simulation.

Okay, so... why did they (mostly) still get "tricked" by the simulation anyway? The key words today would be "trust" and "dependence".

Thinking about it, there's one thing that separates group 1 from 2: the boys in group 1 have a tendency to rely on others for support and validation whereas the boys in group 2 are consistently shown to be more independent than their peers (even if they, too, seek validation). Let's go through them one by one!

GROUP 1

Riddle

Riddle is presented as a tyrant that rules with an iron fist, particularly in book 1 where he stars as the main antagonist. However, it's also pretty blatant that Riddle has become increasingly aggressive due in part to others enabling him. Ace specifically calls out Trey for this, saying that his failure to intervene or to quell Riddle's temper has resulted in Heartslabyul students suffering for it. Cater is also complacent, as he and/or Trey often follow Riddle's orders and remove Adeuce from the dorm multiple times in book 1. Riddle relies on these upperclassmen to listen to him and carry out his bidding, and he feels validated when they do. It's a lesson he has learned from his mother. He is the most powerful, and therefore he should be the most correct. Notice how Riddle is quick to anger when others refuse to obey him and how often he demands for them to conform. He becomes enraged when the Heartslabyul mobs rebel and chuck an egg at him. But what hurts him most of all is, perhaps, Trey turning too. Riddle was mad about the mobs acting up, yes, but he still did not overblot. Not yet, at least. No, Riddle overblots only AFTER he tries to attack Ace with the rose trees... and Trey steps in with his UM to overwrite Riddle's collar, turning it into cards. Trey's relationship with Riddle cannot be understated here. In this very moment, Trey, Riddle's childhood friend (one of his first friends), vice dorm leader, silent yes man, his most trusted confidant, has betrayed him. He is proving Riddle wrong, that the most powerful mage is not the most correct. "Are YOU going to tell me that I'm wrong too? After all I've done to protect the rule of law?! [...] I... I refuse to believe this!"

From these examples, we can clearly see that Riddle is someone who is reliant on others--not that he isn't a capable mage, but rather he is reliant on others for his own sense of self-worth. Indeed, even in his post-OB flashback, he indicates feeling proud and excited when his mother praises him for good grades or successfully performing a spell. This is reiterated many times over in book 1, in which Riddle feels satisfied and even smug when his students fall in line, and spirals into uncontrollable rage when they don't. There are a select few whom Riddle has chosen to place his faith in, and Trey is one of them. Trey, who gave him his first slice of strawberry tart and has been supporting him as his vice for over a year now (since Riddle became dorm leader in his first week as a first-year student; now is the start of Riddle's second year). That's why he feels so hurt when Trey is suddenly chastising him, telling him that he's behaving irrationally.

If we reexamine Riddle's post-OB flashback, you'll notice that Riddle says he is lonely without every outright stating the word "lonely". The phrasing makes it sound as though Riddle does not understand his own loneliness, like he doens't even know the word or want to acknowledge it as reality. He is awkward and unsure around Trey and Chenya, who invite him out to play. He follows his mother's rules because he believes that is what will bring him happiness. He wonders why, in spite of following all those rules, he still feels hollow inside. Then, once Riddle has awoken, he confesses that he always wanted to play more with Trey, and that he wants to talk with everyone after a meal. Riddle. at his core, craves companionship rather than dominating his peers. Trey was one of the few friends he ever had, and so Riddle puts a lot of stock into his support. This may be why he was quick to believe the fake Trey in the simulation, and why he looked so shocked when Trey started attacking him. Here is a boy who has already been betrayed once, experiencing that same betrayal again at the hands of his childhood friend. How scared must he be of losing his oldest friend, of Trey turning his back on him or seeing him as a monster? 😭

Azul

Due to the bullying he experienced in his childhood, Azul works very hard to maintain a new image of someone who is cool, confident, and composed. Part of that is passing himself off as someone who is large and in charge, while posing Jade and Floyd as his lackies who do whatever he tells them to. The reality of the matter is that the twins are very much... there to do their own thing, and they just kind of go along with Azul's schemes because they seem to be a lot of fun. When you stop to consider it though, Azul definitely puts a lot of trust into the Leech brothers even though they're both shady and can be flippant at times. It's the twins going around and advertising Azul's services to the student population. It's the twins who help him expand his business and acquire new items (as all three's Dorm Uniform vignettes are about the Octatrio conspiring to acquire the rights to and/or advertise their new drinks). It's the twins who are asked to run the Mostro Lounge whenever Azul is absent. Time and time again, Azul falls back on Jade and Floyd. They've been with him since middle school.

In book 4, both Azul and Floyd insist that they aren't really "childhood friends", but they do consider each other "equals". As Azul describes it, "I strongly doubt Jade or Floyd have any binding allegiance to me. This is all and elaborate game of pretend to them. [...] If I made a poor choice as leader--or even simply a boring one... They would turn on me instantly and seize the dorm leader seat for themselves." Floyd follows with, "We ain't got any plans to challenge him, either... for now, anyway. Aha ha! [...] We stick with [Azul] now 'cause it's fun. If it stops bein' fun, we drop him like a bad habit. Easy." The twins and Azul are both very aware that their relationship is a temporary and transactional one. Azul himself has even fully considered the possibility that Jade and Floyd may one day turn on him. This is all true--however, I also believe it's possible that the Octatrio are not being entirely truthful to themselves and do actually care for one another beyond the confines of their business ties or "having fun". In book 3, Jade and Floyd sense that something is wrong, and their immediate thought is to go check on Azul because of this gut feeling. Jade warns Azul of the consequences of misusing his UM. They are also the first to check on Azul after his OB and insist that he rest and find it within them to gently tease him over the situation. Even the way they address each other is "special". Jade and Azul have a tendency to be polite and use the honorific "-san" after everyone's name... except for each other and Floyd. Floyd, meanwhile, tends to give everyone a nickname... except for Jade and Azul. They drop these naming conventions within their group because that's how much they know and trust each other. Further proof of this is that when Floyd first meets Azul in the post-OB flashback of book 3, he calls Azul "Octopus-chan". Azul used to have a nickname, but no longer has one. This implies that a lack of a nickname actually indicates that Floyd is more intimate with someone than if he had nicknamed them. The same goes with Jade and Azul, who are usually so formal and polite.

I've already established that Azul acts in ways which indicate that he is close to the twins, as much as he tries to deny it and come off as tough. He drops the honorifics for them and he trusts them to do his bidding. What I find most telling, however, is when Jade and Floyd check up on him right as he's about to OB. "Jade! Floyd! Ahhh, you've finally come back to me," Azul says (if you listen to his voice, he sounds SO relieved). "Would you believe that thanks to these FOOLS, I've lost all of my contracts? Which is why I'm going to need your powers now. Come on, give them to me!" This is notable because, prior to this, he was forcibly ripping powers out of mob students. But now with the twins--Azul makes a CONSCIOUS decision to ask Jade and Floyd for them to willingly give up their powers to him. Azul is emotional and acting without tact here, but he STILL stops to ask the twins for them to surrender their magic. He cares about getting their consent specifically. When the brothers deny him and Floyd says Azul has become lame, that's when Azul snaps. His loyal henchmen are refusing his request and he's lost all his accumulated wealth. He's going to become the weak, friendless crybaby he once way all over again.

Knowing all of this, it makes sense why Azul was as startled as Riddle was when the simulated Jade attacked him. Azul claims that he anticipates this day--but he still seems to disturbed when it actually happens. It's true that perhaps this surprise comes in part from Azul having no indication that the twins were getting bored of him, so this is coming out of left field in his perspective. But... it could also be that he's hurt by the sudden shift, even if he and the twins have been telling themselves all along that they'd toss each other out without a second thought once they lose interest. This calls back to Azul's concerns right before he overblots: that his "business partners" (whom he refuses to call his friends) have lost interest in him and will now leave him alone and with nothing. He relies on the brothers not only for labor, but as his company and his confidants. When that's taken away from him... what does Azul have left that's worth anything?

Vil

Vil is another person who typically passes as very independent. He looks after himself quite well and is often the one nagging others to do the same. The thing with him is... he's still a celebrity at the end of the day, and a celebrity like him is always aware of his public image and the eyes on him. That's Vil's Achille's heel: as a celebrity, he is constantly concerned with how others perceive him. This is a lesson he learns in book 5--that he shouldn't let other people's judgment of him or a silly popularity contest determine his self-worth. Ah, but let's remember... book 6 begins like a mere DAY after book 5. Sure, Vil's character arc may be over, but that does not mean that he has suddenly completely changed. Up until yesterday, he was aggressively training to overcome his rival and to show the whole world his true beauty. Vil still, to some degree, finds value in how he looks and how others see him, as it strongly ties into his career. To this end, he sees Rook as a valuable individual.

Now, there's a lot of contention about whether or not Rook is a good influence on Vil or not, as some interpret his commentary as derogatory or unnecessarily critical. I'm not going to get into that; here, I am going to speak plainly about how Vil himself views Rook's feedback. In Vil's Labwear vignettes, he confides in Trey that he relies on Rook's keen observational skills to reflect the truth back to him. A celebrity must look at his best, and he can count on Rook to not mince his words and point out even the most minute of changes at a quick glance. (Vil himself is also extremely strict with himself, but lacks the superhuman abilities that his vice dorm leader does.) Rook has been doing this since long before he even transferred to Pomefiore, critiquing Vil's performances and such, not just his looks alone. This led into long discussions and debates between the two, which demonstrates how much Vil values Rook's perspective. Even back then, Rook was one of Vil's greatest supporters, but not exactly a totally blind "yes man". He is offering the kind of feedback that Vil seeks, not empty, sugar-coated niceties. This is why, in spite of his betrayal at the end of book 5, Vil eventually accepts it, as he trusts Rook's keen eye and judgment. What's interesting about book 6's examinations is that Vil seemingly takes charge of his group. When approached by the simulated classmates, Vil steps up and, after a moment of silence, says, "No... It's nothing. Let's go." (Vil is known as a skilled actor and can easily sniff out an act himself. Was the silence hesitation as he, Azul, and Riddle reevaluate the scene? Hard to say, but I'm assuming that STYX's state-of-the-art tech was able to perfectly simulate Rook, and thus confused Vil and co. for a while.) Rook strikes him with a spell, and that invokes a great emotional reaction from Vil, who seems to be the most aghast of the group. The fake Rook then declares that he's going to claim the dorm leader seat from Vil, which shocks him. "As you know, I appreciate beautiful things. Hence... I can hardly allow someone who's acted as ugly as you to occupy the Fairest Queen's throne!" The scene then cuts away to a battle. Now, while we don't get any extra dialogue from Vil to show his reaction, one interpretation could be that he was stunned into silence. Why is this a believable occurrence? Because the fake Rook called Vil out for "ugly" behavior. This is significant because back when Vil was overblotting, he was desperately shouting for people to "not look at him" because he's "so ugly". Here, ugliness does not mean literal ugliness or something that is visually unappealing. The "ugliness" being spoken of refers to being morally rotten, as Vil was speaking on his guilt after resorting to dirty tactics to try and take out his rival (when he had previously sworn to win on his own merits alone). The simulated Rook might be referring to this, which induces great shame in Vil, who is aware of the weight of his sins. Heck, book 6 even starts with Vil taking accountability and sincerely apologizing to the whole NRC Tribe for causing them trouble. Vil blames himself for their team losing, as it was his OB that forced them to fight and physically wore them out before their big performance. "What does it matter who forgives me?! I can't... I can't forgive myself!" He may still have lingering guilt regarding this incident, hence why he's the one predominantly reacting when the vice dorm leaders betray group 1. His mirror and huntsman, who speaks only the truth to him, now tells him of his ugliness. What else can that be, if not the truth reflected back at him?

GROUP 2

Jamil

To be clear, Jamil did not automatically go after the simulated Kalim. He automatically defers and tries to go along with his dorm leader (and only starts fighting once Leona declares the simulation for the sham it really is). Why? Surely Jamil is sharper witted than that. To this, I say... of course, it's just that Jamil's so used to being a servant that he reverts back to submissiveness as soon as he's put in a circumstance where there's a power dynamic. He’s not the one relying on Kalim—Kalim is often the one relying on him. You need proof of Jamil's servile mindset? He was intentionally talking down his own skills ever since book 4 and, according to Azul, has been purposefully maintaining painfully average grades (which, in of itself, takes a lot of effort). Admittedly though, those are conscious choices, not unconscious ones. But how about back in book 5, when Vil announces him as one of the lead vocalists and Jamil's immediate reaction is not to accept it, but to humble himself and insist that Kalim would be better suited for it (when Kalim actually isn't)? Jamil has to stop himself, back up, and accept the nomination, which he has earned for himself, rather than relinquish it to someone less deserving. Years and years of serving someone else, forced to play the part of the inferior servant, will beat that attitude into his mind, regardless of how much he resents the position.

Even now, Jamil feels like he usually has to follow someone else's lead. Leona, the upperclassman and dorm leader, provides that lead for him in the VR simulation. This leadership + independence is something they would butt heads over later in book 6, as Jamil begins to act overprotective of his current charge (Leona) as he does with Kalim. While Jamil has played the part of Kalim's attendant and childhood friend, the reality is that Jamil cannot stand those roles. He desires to stand out and to be recognized--something which is evident in book 4. Before he brainwashes the Scarabia students, he's always framing himself in a positive and helpful light to them and speaks humbly about his abilities. After he brainwashes the Scarabia students, he has them heap him with praise that he had never gotten in his childhood. In the post-OB flashback, we see Jamil's parents scolding him for outperforming Kalim, even in something as simple as a game. The headmaster of a great arcane academy overlooks him in favor of someone far less capable.

Jamil knows he can be great, but he's intentionally being told to not reach those heights. He feels stifled and trapped, and no one understands his plight that he cannot escape from. This results in Jamil distancing himself from others and coming to rely on himself and himself alone to make his wishes come true. He can't rely on his family, who are beholden to their legacy of being servants to the Asims. He can't confide in friends because none of them are quite like him, and Kalim would ignorantly brush it off. He can't tell third parties because, as Crowley as demonstrated, they dismiss him outright. Jamil, as he acts throughout book 6, is doing so in an effort to find his own strength and to be able to act on it with the freedom he seeks. To play support not because he has to, but because he, the individual, wants to. As Jamil states before overblotting, he wants to "be free" from these precarious circumstances where a wrong move could doom him and his family... but he only has so many liberties to work with. This leaves him in a strange limbo situation where he still isn't fully independent but desperately wishes to be. We see him fighting against the restraints, and to varying degrees of effectiveness depending on the context and his state of mind within that context.

Leona

From a young age, Leona seems to have worked tirelessly to obtain recognition. Like Jamil, Leona was in such a position (second-born prince) that, despite his efforts, he kept being rejected and beaten down again and again. As we see in his post-OB flashback, this is what eventually broke Leona’s spirit and made him develop a pessimistic outlook on his prospects for the future. The thing is, even though Leona does not really have hope for himself, he still manages to inspire hope in other people, from underclassmen to the students of his dorm. Book 2 is entirely about Savanaclaw looking to Leona to save their own futures, and him trying to do so for their sakes. His club mates extol how he can so quickly hone in on their best skills and advise them on how to sharpen those skills. Jack admires Leona’s plays, so much so that he wished to one day play alongside Leona. He’s even able to get beastmen of different species to get along and live peacefully under his rule when this has historically been difficult for his older brother to manage. All in all, Leona has all the makings of a leader. He stands out from the crowd, knows when to leverage his power and intelligence (playing smarter, not harder), and commands with ease.

… That being said, Leona’s presence can be so powerful at times that it’s also isolating. This was the case for his childhood, which is depicted to us as many palace servants being fearful of Leona’s devastatingly strong magic. He also uses this strong magic against his dorm mates when their intentions clash in book 2–and he comes close to killing someone in the process. He’s also just notorious in general for being grumpy or unfriendly toward others, including one instance in book 5 when he seems upset that you’ve showed up in his classroom. Leona drives people away from him, whether because of his strength or because of his prickly attitude.

At the same time, i would also describe Leona as a tactician that keeps some degree of distance from those he commands. He makes it clear he's willing to use others to achieve his own goals and does so many times over. Book 2, when he tries to take out Malleus to help his dorm leaders while also trying to prove to himself that he's capable. Book 3, when he helps Yuu and co. dissolve the contracts including one of his own he made with Azul, etc. Leona knows how to best use his own abilities, as well as those of others. That's what makes him so formidable--he can read others and judge the situation extremely well, and he knows when it is smart to fight and when to tactically retreat (such as in book 6, when he immediately surrenders to STYX agents rather than make a scene). Leona is a self-sufficient man.

There’s the question of Ruggie, of course. Leona is often depicted as lazy and relies on Ruggie to do many daily things for him, such as laundry or fetching food. This obviously throws a wrench into the claim that Leona is more "independent" than those in group 1, doesn't it? He doesn't even come close to Jamil, who actually does all of these tasks himself. Well, not exactly. I don't think "independence" here really comes down to that alone. Riddle, Azul, and Vil all relied on Trey, the twins, and/or Rook to some significant degree to inform their own senses of self. Jamil had this belief of deferring to his "betters" (the Asims) instilled in him, regardless of his personal feelings on the matter. And Leona? Leona does not significantly rely on Ruggie for his self-worth (dude was 100% going to sand him in book 2). Yes, Leona was likely looking to help his dorm members in part to prove to himself he is capable of leading a pack, but he gives up when he realizes it was a fruitless effort. He doesn't become reinvigorated to keep it up or to try again, even when his dorm members (Ruggie included) plead to him. Leona is acting selfishly, and he refuses to acknowledge their perspectives--he's set in his own ways and is driven by his own thoughts, not those of the people around him. Perhaps this is what allows him to discern truth from lies with such clarity, as it is Leona who rouses Jamil to his senses and leads the charge against the VR simulation Kalim and Ruggie.

[ph4ngz]

“Suck me off like your future education depends on it. Oh, wait. It fucking does.”

Al-haitham gives a rough shift forward of his pelvis so that his heavy, twitching cock can plunge even deeper into your mouth. So bad, he wants to hit the back of your throat so bad. Archons, he thrives for this exact sensation EVERY moment of the dayyyyyy.

This view… your delectable expression. Plump, quivering lips glistening with saliva and doing their absolute best just to keep their place tight around his length even though you’re on the brink of gagging. Anxious, wide eyes clamping shut every so often to rid of the glassy layer of pesky tears blurring your sight. Knees visibly red and sore, digging into the hard floor each time you lift yourself up to chase after his dick and catch it in your mouth, shamelessly eager to revel in the flavour of him like it’s your last chance. So fucking dirty and… just downright iconic. Nobody can do it for him like you can.

Your scalp pulses with an addictive sting supplied by the scribe’s fist tangled and controlling in your hair. How he repeatedly yanks your head back and forth in time with his vigorous thrusts has your cunt clenching on nothing, sending arousal to come practically gushing from your hole, swollen clit feeling cruelly neglected and longing for the slightest hint of stimulation.

“Mmph… g-grrnm—!” you panic when a particularly forceful rock of the scribe’s hips causes you to tense up and fight for breath.

“Th—at’s right sweetheart, ha-ve-ve a gooood taste.” Al-haitham drawls and stutters an undeniably thirsty low-toned taunt, gazing down at your sweet, vulnerable little self all weak and bruising knelt on the ground below him. The prominent veins decorating his cock create shallow ridges that hardly catch against your tongue, and you would seize the opportunity to swirl around them, but it’s rather difficult with such a surprisingly heavy weight blocking the back of your throat. Fresh streams of tears begin to break out over your waterlines, and fucking hell is he ready to cum all over you. But not yet, no, he tells himself and gasps a large breath when the warning of an orgasm creates a maddening tension in his abdomen, you’re not deserving of that just yet.

At last, the brutal scribe’s actions come to a temporary standstill and he pries your mouth from him, not without a lewd, sticky pop and a cooling thread of saliva connecting the two of you. You can breathe. Speak, even. With a shaky hand, you quickly brush away any loose hairs obscuring your vision and attempt to softly thread a few into Al-haitham’s thick fingers so he’d secure them back for you whilst you teasingly trace messy lines up and down his bobbing length.

“I’m sorry, mister scribe, am I too good for you to handle?” you ask cutely, eyes disguised with innocence although your constricting grasp around the base of his aching dick betrays your visage de façade. Bending over and tugging your locks to tilt your head back, he directs a desirous, mean glare down past the bridge of his nose straight into your deceitful, sparkling eyes. His other large hand occupies itself by pinching your cheek between his thumb and pointer finger, stretching your face as if you’re just some dumb kid to him.

“Shut up.” the harsh scribe orders you, an aura of lust and dominance practically radiating from underneath his clothes. You swear you can feel it, too, due to his tall, lean and muscular frame looming over you so intimidatingly close. Al-haitham’s aquamarine irises seem to darken right in front of you, an illusion portrayed by his control over you. His power could be seen as figurative chains he keeps you bound to him by. Do as you’re told or face the higher-ups, he’d threatened you with a deal you couldn’t refuse after you’d gotten him dangerously close to expulsion by nabbing a folder comprised of detailed information regarding you.

Suddenly, the embarrassing touch on your cheek disappears only to land a firm, swift slap there instead. His hand was a mere few inches away from the area it smacked, so why— how does it hurt this much? A meek and wobbly moan still escapes the confines of your sore, sensitive throat no matter how hard you push it down to start with. You’d best shut up.

“Dirty, dirty little thief.” he chastises, voice deep and seductive through gritted teeth as you pump his pink-tipped cock in hopes that he’ll forget about your pathetic excuse for a “one-up”. Al-haitham mindlessly toys with your pouting lower lip, then by using a smidge more pressure to force your jaw open he glides his fingers over your bottom front teeth, a devilish smirk playing upon his mouth whilst he engraves the ticklish sensation of the toughened skin grazing along every serrated edge into his brain. Before you can clamp down and bite, the scribe removes your touch by the wrist to hurriedly line himself up and help himself to your mouth once more, without notice. His sharp, quiet inhale releases as a hot, sinfully pleased exhale that leaves your own hips wriggling aimlessly.

He watches you squirm helplessly as he holds your forehead to the sexy trail of short hairs leading from his navel to the long, hard dick he’s so generously stuffing your proud mouth full with. You’re barely trying to pull away, staying still until the natural recoil of your body prevents you from passing out. The faint, salty taste of his pre-cum along with his alluring and delicious scent combined and rendering you more intoxicated, cock drunk, by the second. Both addictive as fuck, so much so that your body begins to slump diagonally into Al-haitham’s legs as soon as the pressure on your head relinquishes, a jelly-like arm coiling around his thigh to stay as close as possible whilst your lips glide over his length when it slips out.

“I, I loooove seeing you choke…” the scribe, watching his slick jolting cock thwack against his lower stomach, confesses in a slur just in case you hadn’t gathered. He’s evidently high on the exhilarating pleasure, possibly much more than you are. “I bet you wish, fuck,” he pauses, sex-dazed yet tense with the consistent tightening of his balls, “you’d never have attempted to swipe those documents fr— from under my nose.”

/-/-/-/

[shinynewboots]

Just a Taste: Part 2 Adam x afab!reader

AN: Hello friends! Here is my long-awaited sequel to Just a Taste! This took me a second to write due to writer's block and just being unsure of what direction I wanted to take so I hope y'all enjoy! Only like the third time I've ever written smut so let me know your thoughts!

2.2k words

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, smut, dub-con if you squint, fingering, oral sex (reader receiving), Adam is bad at talking about his emotions, porn without plot

Tags: @kaces-mind @jiyuukaze @lousypotatoes

Adam did not return for 3 days.

Worried was an understatement. You had scoured your neighborhood for hours trying to find the fallen angel who had left you hot and bothered. Truthfully, he had hurt your feelings. You couldn't tell if it was the sting of rejection or the humiliation of the state you were left in that bothered you more.

Though you would never admit to Adam, you did finish what he started. You rubbed circles around your clit slowly at first but faster and faster with half-lidded eyes, imagining Adam's fingers between your folds. You imagined his self-satisfied smirk as you spent yourself on your fingers. That fucking asshole.

You came with his name on your lips (or rather you came cursing his name, more appropriately).

You tried to distract yourself. He was a grown man and if he wanted to be an idiot so be it. Who were you to stop him? He had a key, if he wanted to come back he could.

You settled for bed, throwing on an oversized t-shirt and pink panties. Sleep didn't come quickly for you, as your mind drifted to Adam, just as it did almost every night since he left.

You couldn't necessarily figure out what you had done wrong. You weren't particularly religious or spiritual when you were alive so this odd guilt he seemed to feel confused you. And for him to have the audacity to blame whatever indiscretions of his on you? Fucking asshole.

A piece of you hoped he was safe. Another piece of you hoped he had gotten the shit beat out of him, at least a little bit.

You finally drifted to sleep, your body snuggled around your pillow. Your apartment was hot, as were most nights in hell, so you slept with the fan on, over the covers, with your shirt bunched up around your stomach.

Just as sleep was about to take you, your mind hazy and slow, you heard the noise of the front door knob twisting and the door opening.

Adam?

You rolled in bed, contemplating meeting him to express your worry and relief. The petty side of you, which won out in the end, decided to stay in bed and greet him in the morning. He did not deserve your concern or relief.

You settled back down and tried to turn your mind off. The sound of footprints pacing the apartment played like white noise in your mind. He could suffer a little longer. You began to drift softly with the footsteps until you noticed them getting closer to your bedroom door.

You heard the door open and the footsteps enter your room. You tried to regulate your breathing. You did not want to have this conversation right now. You couldn't. You closed your eyes tighter and hoped he would get the hint.

The footsteps got closer until they stopped beside your bed and you felt a dip in the mattress where Adam had sat at the edge of your bed. His breathing was deep and you could smell the fruity aromatic scent of one of his favorite wines. Still, you chose to feign sleep.

A large hand touched your thigh, thumb making soft motions against your skin. Despite the heat of the room, you could feel goosebumps form beneath his touch.

"This place fucks with my head," Adam whispered, putting a firmer grip on your thigh. Your pulse quickened. "The longer I'm here, the farther away from heaven I get."

His hand traveled farther up your thigh and you felt your breathing stop. He was so close to your core. So close to discovering how wet you were even from the small morsel of touch he gave you. "And then you sit there like a temptress pulling me further into hell. Fucking despicable."

He laughed without humor.

You shot up from your faked slumber and glared at him. "You fucking left me. Do you know embarrassing that is?"

He gave you a crooked grin. "No, Y/N, you want to know what's fucking embarrassing? How much I just wanted to taste you and figure out if you really were as fucking delectable as that first apple I bit into."

His hand traveled to the edge of your panties and played with the elastic, his touch just barely there. You could do nothing but watch his finger in morbid fascination. Your clit ached to be touched. A heat was rising in your belly at his soft touches.

"Do it then, bastard." You bit out, bitterness striking at him from your tongue. "Or just leave already."

Adam's eyes darkened and suddenly a finger had plunged between your panties and skin and had found your wet folds. You moaned involuntarily, frustrated that you were folding for him once again so easily.

"Already so wet for me, Y/N?" He asked, running lazy circles around your clitoris. You felt your back arch at his touch, the t-shirt you were wearing coming up over your breasts to reveal them completely. That caught his attention, as his hand free reached out and pinched one of your nipples. You bit back a moan, feeling the coppery taste of blood pooling in your mouth.

His finger moved from your clit to the introitus, running even circles along the edge before pushing his finger completely into you. A moan escaped as you felt yourself become completely vulnerable under his touch. He studied you with his golden eyes full of curiosity and hunger.

He pulled his finger from your core, the entire digit coated in your desire. He removed his hand from your breast and used it to pull your chin towards him so that your gaze was focused completely on his face.

He licked his finger slowly, starting at the base near the palm and up towards the tip. His face was contorted into pleasure, like a starving man might savor a last meal.

"So fucking sweet, Y/N. Just like I thought."

You lay there, heart pounding at the sight of this fallen angel tasting you. Adam still sat of the edge of the bed and looked at you with a mischievous grin. In one quick motion, he pulled the panties from your body, leaving you almost completely bare aside from your bunched-up t-shirt. He brought your panties to his nose and inhaled deeply.

"So fucking tempting, Y/N." He whispered his golden eyes wild with desire. He adjusted himself so that he was completely on the bed, still fully clothed and threw your panties to the ground. He lay on his stomach, his head dangerously close to your cunt. Both hands moved so that they each gripped your thighs tightly.

He leaned his head closer to you, his tongue popping out of his mouth to taste you again. He licked up from your entrance, your desire flowing freely, towards your clit where he lapped at your bud.

Goosebumps spread across your body as you arched your back in ecstasy. You couldn't suppress the moan that shook your entire body. Your hands found their way into Adam's hair, gripping at the soft locks hard.

This must have pleased him because he began to suck on your clitoris, slowly at first and then faster and faster, building a constant tempo that your body reacted strongly to.

"Fuck," You groaned. Adam continued on until you felt as though would burst.

"Adam," You moaned, so close to the edge. And then he removed his mouth from your aching clitoris. Your cunt pulsated with desire and heat, begging to be touched. Pleading.

"Adam please, don't leave me again," You pleaded, aware of how desperate you sounded. You were so close. Your body burned with desire and was hyperaware of his touches and heat.

He looked up at you, mouth glistening with a mixture of your juices and his saliva. "How could I leave when I know just how good you taste?"

Adam began to lick up your body, tongue moving slowly from your core to your belly to your chest. He now hovered over you as he licked up your neck, paying special attention to the pulse point at the base of your neck.

"Adam please touch me," You plead once more. Adam chuckled into your ear.

"Desperate little bitch, huh?" His words sent shivers down your spine as he sucked on your earlobe. He was so close and yet you needed him closer. Growing bold, you decided to try something.

Using all your weight, you moved your leg so that it caught him off balance, rolling him on his back into the center of the bed. You followed suit and found yourself straddling him, your hands pressing into his chest. You threw your shirt off, leaving yourself bare before him. A look of shock crossed his features followed by a smirk.

You began to grind against him, vaguely aware that you were leaving wet stains on his pants. Adam recovered from the shock and gripped your waist with his hands. You could feel your orgasm begin to build back up again as your clitoris made contact with the bulge of his penis. You moaned at the contact, the friction pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

You arched back, your breast pointed towards the ceiling, and your hands now finding themselves gripping onto Adam's thighs as you used his penis as your own personal sex toy. He moaned at the contact, the bulge in his pants growing even larger. You were so close. Almost over the edge.

"Come for me, Y/N." He asked, his voice low as he watched you use him for your own desire. Fucking shit, he had never seen a more beautiful sight.

That was all it took for your body to begin to shake as you hit your peak. You felt your body try and go limp as the explosions began to wane. Your breathing began to slow and you felt a wave of tiredness come over you. You tried to move off of Adam and tried to formulate a lame excuse for your actions in your head. Yet, he still had not released your hips. You tried to pull yourself free, but he gripped your sides tighter.

"I think you can cum at least one more time." He said, looking up at you with shining golden eyes. You shoot him a wry grin, already feeling more energized.

You pulled at his pants until he lifted his core to remove them from his body. He grabbed at his shirt and pulled it from behind his head to reveal his soft body. A trail of dark hair started at this belly button down to the dark curls of his pubic region. Multiple scars marred his abdomen, where he was stabbed by the one-eyed gremlin.

His cock was hard beneath you, rubbing against your clit most temptingly. You rubbed your already swollen vulva against his shaft, feeling it engorge with every move of your body.

"Fucking tease," He moaned out, gripping your hips to push you down harder against his body. Precum dripped from his tip, mixing with your juices. You rocked harder against him, already feeling another orgasm trying to form in your body.

Adam bucked up his hips, his face contorting into pleasure. He lifted you up from his body with all of his strength and pulled you back down so that you were impaled by his cock.

"Fuck," You cried out, tears welling in your eyes at the sensation of being filled to the brim by the fallen angel. He fits you perfectly, his cock pulsating against your walls. He begins to buck his hips into you as your ride him as though your life depended upon it. He moved a hand so that his thumb made contact with your clit, rubbing hard circles against it.

The sensation was too much and yet not enough. You could feel that ball in core grow tighter and tighter. Winding against itself until—

"Adam, I'm about to —"

"Cum for me, Y/N," He groaned out. Thrusting faster into your body. All at once that ball in your core unraveled and you screamed out in pleasure as waves overcame your every sensation. Adam gave one last thrust and came inside you, his seed shooting into your core.

You sat there for a few minutes, the waves of pleasure slowly tapering off as the scene before you became clear. Heat rose to your cheeks as you realized what you had just done. You felt Adam grow softer inside you and so you dismounted his hips and sat beside him, feeling his seed leak from your cunt.

Adam breathed heavily, his eyes half-lidded. A yawn escaped his mouth.

"Um so we have to talk about this, " You started timidly. Adam yawned again and pulled your waist so that you lay beside him. He snuggled against you, your ass matching perfectly with his softening cock.

"Adam," You tried again. His arm snaked around you and grabbed onto one of your breasts.

"Nah, fuck that Y/N. We could talk or we could go to sleep and wake up tomorrow with morning sex and breakfast." He said sleepily. You weren't in the mood to argue and you couldn't deny that being held as you slept, especially by Adam, sounded like the closest thing to heaven you could get in this godforsaken place.

You made an affirmative noise and snuggled in closer to his warm body, all too aware of the cum leaking from between your legs. Yeah, maybe you could just talk in the morning.