#theme of a kinktober fic

[gladiatorcunt]

rafe being the only dog in a dog fight run by ward and barry MMMMMMMMMHHHHH

[uc1wa]

18+ minors dni

OCT. 17 — KINKTOBER ‘23

KNIFE & GUN PLAY WITH JASON TODD

ktober m.list

tags: fem reader, blood, gun play isn't gorey, penetrative sex, cum play for a second, possessive jason, reader calls jason daddy once, (if i missed any pls message me!)

jason hesitated only slightly when you had mentioned having rougher sex. took a beat to read your face one night after dinner when the topic was somehow brought up, a tilt of his head and arch of his brow following.

it wasn’t like the two of you were purely vanilla when it came to your bedroom tendencies. you started by asking jason to choke you, your hand placing overtop of his to press harder—clearly nervous of his strength and your limits. then, jason tested out slapping… and with the way your pussy clenched around him, it was safe to say there was a green light in front of that too.

but… when you were playing with the switchblade that the man kept in his pocket when you had run the blade over your fingers gently, and the words, "i wouldn’t be upset if you used this in bed," fell from your tongue, jason could only smirk to himself.

"want me to put a lil’ tattoo on you princess?" he asks, holding his hand out in asking for the blade, to which you hand to him. you nod with a grin, lifting up the thin fabric of your pajama shorts. the soft flesh of your upper thigh being exposed, your fingers running over the skin. "right here," you say, the skin right under the hem of your panties being traced with your fingertip.

you look from the skin between your hip and thigh to jason who’s sat in front of you, his eyes darkening as he looks at your skin. the hand that’s not holding the blade grabs the soft flesh, squeezing it and giving it a little tap.

"'jason’s'… how does that sound?" green eyes meet yours, his demeanor changing to one of those that says he's ready to pounce on you at any given second. "mhm, mark me up. wouldn’t be your first time," you nod with a laugh, pulling up your top to show one of your boobs, a dark purple love mark sucked into the skin from two days prior.

jason tilts his head in thought, questioning if he should hold out on telling you his desire that followed yours. the desire that has just reached the front of his mind, a thought that only a questionable vigilante who's killed hundreds would have. his eyes trailed over your body as he does so, to which you scrunch your eyebrows. "yes?" he holds a momentary finger up at you as he silently walks away, making his way into your bedroom without a word.

a few minutes go by, your attention is turned to the television until the man walks back into the room. nothing has changed about him, besides the fact that he’s holding a hand behind his back. one end of jason’s lips is tugged upwards despite the nervousness to reveal the idea he was keeping away from you.

he takes a seat, sweatshirt bunching up around his hips as he brings his arm forward. now your eyes widen—excited and nervous yourself. the hesitation is understandable, as any other sane person would most likely make a run for it.

the shiny, clean metal was one you’d only seen when jason had come home from being the red hood. when he had come off of patrol and you were in the rarity of being awake at the late hour of the night, watching him strip himself of his vigilante clothing and tools. the tools he had hidden in the back of your shared closet, several locks attached as a safety measure.

the mechanism that your boyfriend had used hundreds of times—either to take a life or to severely hurt another. now, holding it in front of you, his eyes never leaving your face.

"why not both?" he asks, turning the gun to show you that the safety is on, continuing to open the slots where bullets would be found and showing that it was clear of any possibilities of harm.

while jason was around guns and every possibility of weaponry on a daily basis, you weren’t. but, you weren’t opposed to the idea, and the way your heart rate quickened and your underwear started to get wet was proof of that.

with wide eyes you nod and stand up to take jason’s hand, leading you to the room that you were normal to experimenting in.

you both were quick to strip yourselves of clothes, your mind occupied with ways that you could make use of the gun, finally landing on the one thing that you know jason would like.

on a carpet in front of your bed, you fall to your knees on the ground below you, hands sitting pretty and expectantly on your thighs. wide eyes watch your boyfriend smirk at the way you’re ready for him, finding his space in front of you, standing tall and proud with the gun still in his hand.

if jason hadn’t cleaned his guns religiously, you wouldn’t dare to put the one in his hand anywhere near you—god knows what would lie on the surface of it. but, jason took care of them as if they were his prized possession, the same way he took care of you.

so, he places the gun in front of him, right where his cock would usually fall if you were to suck him off. instead of him, though, your tongue slips between your lips to find the tip of the gun, letting it lay flat against the underside of the cool metal while his cock stands proudly behind it.

his eyes stay pointed downwards, watching the way you wrap your lips around the cold metal. while his face doesn't read anything but focus, his internals are going off the charts. his cock hard as a rock while his heart beats faster and faster in anticipation. anticipation of watching you suck his gun, and his cock, and fucking you with pretty metal touching your throat and scarlet running down your thigh from his idea of a tattoo.

while your soft lips left a salivated mess on the tip of jason's pistol, you decided to bring a hand to his member. thumb running over the tip, pleased to feel his pre and following suit in running down his length, beginning to slowly jerk him off. a soft smile tugging your lips when you watch his breath hitch in his throat from the contact.

like a flick of a light switch, jason's throwing the weapon to your bed with a shake of his head. helping you stand up with a hand holding your throat, forcing a choked whine to leave you because of the strength of your boyfriend. your eyes go wide when he leans down to face you, grip still holding the soft skin that coats your neck.

"i'm gonna give it all to you tonight, sweetheart. don't worry about that pretty head of yours, okay?" he questions, throwing you on the bed and finally releasing you, allowing you space and time to catch your breath while jason takes his time crawling between your legs that you oh-so gladly spread for him.

it should be a crime to be as wet as you are due to the minimal contact your boyfriends had with you. hardly laying more than a hand on you and dripping onto the bed without care, eyes meeting his dark ones and watching as he grabs the gun once more.

only this time, his confidence is at a high. all hints of hesitation leaving his body and the action of rubbing the opening of the gun between your folds is done selfishly. of course, he knows it feels good with the symphony of whines and moans you sing for him, but he can't help but to indulge in the sight alone. dark eyes watching the way your cunt flutters, begging to be penetrated rather than teased with the metal.

jason's hungry for everything you give to him.

"such a slut," he begins, locking eyes with you once more, "all wet from a fuckin' gun?" you babble something that sounds like a confirmation, and it makes jason scoff, halting his movements just where you need him; tip of his gun pressed and paused at your entrance. "beg for it."

your cheeks flush, turn red at the demand he makes. but, it's dumb to deny it. dumb to act like you won't fuck the killing machine that was just pressed to the puffy lips of your mouth.

"fuck me with it, please," you say lightly, knowing it's not enough, but wanting to push jason further. after all, he said he'd give it all to you tonight, so you'll make him prove it.

his voice grows deeper, louder and he nudges your clit that begging for attention with the metal, allowing weight to fall on it which makes you squirm under his harsh gaze. "fuckin' pathetic... fuck you with what?"

your eyes roll back, hips rolling forward in attempt to move the dead weight that is the gun and gain some stimulation. but, it's to no avail. your eyes grow wide, swollen lips closing before opening once more. "please daddy, wan' you to fuck me with your gun. gonna feel so good, please please please," you press, and jason eats it entirely. angry red cock spilling with precum, milky streak falling against one of his veins.

"mhm, princess," he says, moving the gun downwards and pressing it to your entrance once more, slowly, eyeing the way your hole swallows the metal that pushes inwards until it can't anymore. the sweet moan is something he appreciates, though he knows the size is only a fraction of his cock that you're used to. but, the coolness of it does enough to feel foreign and good.

with a cocky smirk on his lips, he begins fucking you with the weapon. pulling it in and out of you slowly, but increasing in speed with each thrust he delivers; a big hand holding it with his index and middle finger holding the trigger subconsciously. aiming straight towards your cervix, which he'll touch soon enough.

and he fucks you well. fucks you with an arm that has pretty scars and newer cuts littering the skin. veins starting on the top of his hand and trailing to his forearm pumping blood that's evident in the way his cock is begging for attention. but he wants you to cum once on the gun. make a mess out of it in a way that's unlike anything he's ever experienced.

and once you're arching your back against blankets, moaning his name out in a near yell, and attempting to move a hand between your legs to get him to stop fucking you, stimulation too much, he finally gets what he wants.

jason's perverted thoughts cloud his head when he's slow to pull the gun out of you. looking at the metal that's covered in your milky essence. slow enough that there's a string of wetness that connects you to the weapon, and he could cum from that alone.

but the real finale is when he realizes that your cum is filling the barrel of the gun, filling the once-empty space with yourself. he brings it to your lower tummy, spilling the mess all over you in a manner that's filled with pure filth. proceeding to throw the gun to the side, acknowledging the fact that it's served its purpose for tonight. the pain of his hard-on is finally coming to his attention, and he needs to stuff his pussy.

"how'd that feel, gem?" he questions, moving against covers and watching your half-lidded eyes. both hands pull your thighs up so he can push them back, tip teasing your swollen entrance. "g-good," you whimper, and jason would be lying if he paid any attention to your response. your convulsing pussy is the only thing that has his attention right now, the way you're attempting to suck him whole.

and without warning, he's pushing his entire length between your legs, filling you whole and halting his movements once he's completely surrounded by your soft walls. groaning at the sensation of you clenching around him, but resisting moving his hips the way he wants to.

one hand remains gripping the fat of your thigh while the other grabs the switchblade lying on the mattress beside your pretty figure. flicking it open with his fingers, somehow making it look like an art while he's in the process of doing so. your attention follows it, almost forgetting that you're being stuffed full of jason's cock without movement. unwillingly cockwarming the man.

"remind me, baby. where'd you want my name?" jason's eyes move to meet yours, and without fail, a whimper slips past your lips and he feels the tightness that's close to making him hammer himself into you. but he has the patience and self-control that you don't.

his palm meets yours halfway, letting go of your thigh and letting his hand fall overtop of yours, smoothing over the top of your thigh. in the space that's dangerously next to where he's laid out inside of you, and it makes him more hungry for you if that was possible.

he's transferring his blade to the hand that's closer to the skin where you want it, tracing only enough for your skin to become a shade lighter under the pressure. once again looking up at you, he takes note of the way your lips fall open while anticipation grows in your eyes. it makes him smile wildly, a reminder that you want this. that you're the one who asked for it.

"'s gonna hurt," you whimper, and jason shakes his head, setting the blade on your thigh while his big hand takes your jaw in his hand, squishing your cheeks. "you can handle it, baby. c'mon, where'd my strong girl go?" a smile pulls your lips upwards. "it'll feel just like that tattoo you wanted, it's like a trial before the real thing." he leans towards you, holding back a groan from the way he pushes himself deeper inside your cunt to do so, giving you a sloppy and messy open-mouthed kiss.

then he's pulling back, blade in hand once more, and beginning to get to work. the whimpers are a symphony to his ears as he presses the sharp tip against your soft skin, cutting his name so pretty in your flesh. his eyes watch the way the deep red liquid peeks through the cracks, beginning to drip down the side of your skin. the hand that's not cutting his name into you is squeezing and rubbing the skin of your stomach soothingly.

his hips moving in small circles, enough to give the both of you something, but not enough to make him mess up his painting.

"so fucking pretty, honey," jason says as soon as he's finished, throwing the bloodied blade on the floor to clean up later. but his eyes are unable to see his finished work of art, and jason isn't one to waste.

pulling out of you with a moan, he leans down to the expanse of your thigh, licking over the blood with his tongue flat. he doesn't take note of how you sit up, your eyes widening at the stinging but warm sensation. you watch the way scarlet red coats his tongue, finding its way to the corners of his lips while he sits back up on his knees.

jason's cock stands tall as he uses his thumb to collect the blood from his lips, dark eyes watching yours as he sucks on his own digit. longer than needed, but he can see you like it; whether it be your fluttering cunt or your eyebrows that furrow. he laughs, knowing he's completed what had to be done in order for you to fully be his property.

because now jason's pretty slut girlfriend can't show her cunt to any other man without reading jason's name right beside it.

🏷️: @harleycao, @idyllcy, @hails227, @aviixol, @hopeannalea, @hearttjason, @roysjason, @blursotongz, @zaxlarza, @wartofart, @loviie-stuff, @nmw-am, @nightjarwings

[allzelemonz]

Rebound: Dutch Van der Linde X Male Reader

Fictober Prompt: Day 15, Noncon/Rape Pronouns: None Mentioned, Reader referred to as ‘boy’ and ‘man’ and holds a generally masculine mindset given the circumstances Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: E/Smut Warnings: Rape, grief, drinking, mentions of Annabelle’s death, unhealthy coping mechanisms, hints of victim blaming because Dutch is an ass, threats, semi-public sex, hand jobs, anal fingering, anal sex, marking, neck kissing, slight cum fixation, vomiting, crying, Dutch is such a bad person in this one dude, shifting perspective Summary: After losing someone he loves, Dutch drinks to forget and gets an idea in his drunken mind when he spots a man he likes the look of.

The drinks make his head fuzzy. Dutch has long sent Hosea back to camp, wanting nothing more than to drink by himself until the sun comes up. All he could see was her lying dead on the grass, dignity nowhere left. For a while all he could do was hold her, then all he wanted was kill Colm for doing this. But the drinks help. The drinks let him think of other things. Anything but her.

And that’s why his eyes wander to a man he sees on the street when he stumbles out of the saloon.

The bartender had kicked him out for some reason, he doesn’t remember why. But it doesn’t matter now. He doesn’t need drinks when he can have someone like that. Someone to fuck hard between the buildings of the sickening little town to take his mind off of…

So he follows the man, his head still fogged and his steps uneasy, but he lumbers along well enough to turn the corner just a few feet behind the man. A sober Dutch wouldn’t admit that he may have done this before, a drunk Dutch almost craves it. And even with such an unkempt head, Dutch knows a man doesn’t expect this to happen and that’s what makes it easy. As they walk, the other man pays him no mind, likely writing him off as just another drunk. Dutch only just has the sense not to chuckle to himself.

Doesn’t even have a gun on ‘em.

Before the man can get to the end of the alley, Dutch gets his wrist and pulls him back harshly. Even drunk, Dutch is a relatively graceful man, able to shove the other man against the wall before he’s even registered what’s happened. He exclaims, struggling against Dutch’s grip and body now pressed against him, but he stills when Dutch presses his gun into the man’s ribs.

“Best not ta move…” Dutch mutters, his voice with hardly any sense of soberness.

“Mister-”

Dutch twists the man’s arm behind his back, pulling enough to bring pain to the shoulder. The man gets the message, only whimpering a bit from the pain

And it hurts. Fuck, does it hurt. Maybe it’s the hard wood you’re pressed against, maybe it’s the gun barrel pressed into your skin, or maybe it’s the clear feeling of your assailant’s dick rubbing into your ass. Everything makes you feel small and helpless, the shock hardly helps. Getting robbed, you might expect that, but a man pinning you to a wall and…

The gun withdraws, his hand returning to fumble at your pants.

Your breath hitches and fear takes over your mind. This… this isn’t supposed to happen. Not-

“It’ll be over before ya know it, my dear.”

His voice makes you shiver, his breath hot against your neck, and a second later you almost feel the need to scream as his fingers wrap around your dick.

He’ll kill you. He’ll bring that gun back out and shoot you if you scream, maybe if you just fight. All of this is too much, you can’t think…

To your horror, your dick hardens in calloused hands, the feeling overriding the situation. The man lets your arm go in favor of using the hand to shove your pants down. The cool air feels terrible against your thighs and your body feels like it’s betraying you with the desire your hips seem to have in thrusting into the man’s hand.

A yelp escapes when you feel his fingers shove their way inside. His fingers are big, slicked lightly with something wet, and it makes you feel like puking. The movements are fast, desperate in the attempt to stretch your hole open. At least he decided to do it rather than just forcing his…you rest your head against the wall in front of you, not wanting to think about the man’s hands, let alone his dick.

But Dutch has never been more transfixed.

The man’s dick is heavy in his hand, hardened and wetted with beads of precum. His hole is so tight and warm, but Dutch works it open with so much ease it’s like his fingers were meant to fuck his man. God, what might this feel like around his dick. The man shivers beneath him, looking smaller than he did, like the actions are making him shrink. And Dutch loves it.

He retracts his fingers to pull himself from his pants, unable to wait much longer. His motions are stumbling as he endeavors to keep pumping the other man’s dick and making sure he’s solidly against the wall. But he gets himself lined up and the feeling when he pushes inside nearly sobers him. It’s so tight, so damn hot, and the man’s efforts to keep quiet run straight to his ears in the form of little whimpers and stifled sobs. So Dutch fucks him as hard as he can, his mind far from all of his trouble as ecstasy and liquor swim through it. The man trembles under Dutch, releasing over Dutch’s furiously pumping hand and whining as Dutch keeps using him. Both hands on the man’s hips now, Dutch presses him flush with the wall and fucks to the whiskey’s content.

And the pleasure that hits him is more than any he’s ever felt. He buries himself into the man, filling him with his release as he bites into the man’s neck to leave marks in his skin. The man breathes heavily, shaking under Dutch’s touch as the bite turns to kisses and Dutch milks himself for every drop as he relishes in the tight heat of the other man. He almost doesn’t want to let him go but he doesn’t have the clear mind to use his silver tongue and charm. Sweet talk and manipulation won’t work now, so he pulls out and tucks himself away.

He only lingers for a moment, looking at the man as he shakes against the wall, seemingly too scared to move. Dutch’s eyes trail down his body to the trickles of cum leaking out and down his legs. Mesmerized, Dutch steps forwards, trails his fingers over the streaks all the way up, and pushes it back inside the man’s hole. The whimper that follows would threaten to make Dutch hard again if not for the liquor stifling him. He fingers the fucked out hole for a while, pushing his cum back inside until he gets bored of it.

Then he leans forward, pressing a kiss to the man’s cheek, and walks away.

You stand still for a while, feeling sick and dizzy and broken. Your hands shake when you reach down for your pants, but before you can fasten them, The feeling of bending over sends shocks to your head and nausea swims. You throw up over the wall. It mixes with the splatter of your cum and you can’t keep your legs steady, falling back on your sore ass in the dirt. You heave for a few breaths, trying to catch up, tears working their way from your eyes in the process.

It’s a long time before you can wiggle your pants up, even longer before you can make yourself stand on shaky legs.

That man… you shiver at the thought.

That man. Dutch smiles.

[iknowwhereyousleepatnight]

almost january which means it's almost st sebastian's feast day which means it's almost light yagami's death day which means it's almost february which means it's almost valentine's day which means im six months behind on all of my projects

[kipunat]

Nothing about Tommy and his strange companion is conventional.

Returning to the world of Something sinister for a minute.

Chapter 1 (out of 3) of this Käsh creature romance (mature, please be mindful of the archive warnings and tags, more tags added with new chapters). 🩸

[the-silver-chronicles]

Kinktober Day 22 & 31: "Breeding Kink" & "Aftercare" - For OTP: "Boa Lurking In The Bliss" (Silva Omar x Faith Seed)

Tagged by @socially-awkward-skeleton @imogenkol and @josephseedismyfather

Tagging @adelaidedrubman @raresvtm @derelictheretic @inafieldofdaisies @noodlecupcakes @direwombat @voidika @cassietrn @aceghosts @icecutioner @shallow-gravy @strangefable @statichvm @cloudofbutterflies92 @carlosoliveiraa @wrathfulrook @ladyoriza @la-grosse-patate @thewanderer-000 @omen-speaker @alypink @shellibisshe @josephslittledeputy @skoll-sun-eater @g0dspeeed @afarcryfrommymain @strafethesesinners @turbo-virgins and @florbelles + anyone else who want to join.

Prompt based on this kinktober post made by fellow mutual @starsandskies. While the main Kink of this post is "Breeding" and "Aftercare", you'll find it also includes ones such as "Praise", "Oral", "Biting" and a little bit of "Dirty Talk".

Hey everyone, here's my second and last contribution to Kinktober for this month. Here's a oneshot devoted to the main couple of the Far Cry section of The Silver Chronicles; Silva and Faith as you've probably guessed. From the mature tag and the title you can probably already tell that this oneshot (which will also be uploaded onto my AO3 as well) contains explicitly sexual content meant for 18+ users only. Minors Do Not Interact!

Here's a few warnings as to what this oneshot contains:

CW: Shameless smut, Minor angst, Cunnilingus, slight vaginal fingering, slight teasing, stroking a dick to erection (I don't think a handjob necessarily fits the context because Faith doesn't let Silva cum), P in V sex, unprotected sex, gentle sex, creampie, Silva's kind of unsubtle breeding kink and both women's obvious praise kinks. Includes a lack of contraceptives here (not the fault of either women, Kamski's flaw was that he thought Silva would be like him, miserable and single (neither words correlate nor share a connotation connection with each other here) and also doesn't take into consideration that majority of people don't think like him) and discussions of (getting) pregnancy. Plus the unspeakable horror of including the vaguest hint of a plot in a smut oneshot.

But also enthusiastic consent!

Okay now for the ONLY two Trigger Warnings: Minor reference to past religious and child abuse. These aren't the center focus of the oneshot and aren't explicit either, but these are something that are at the very least inferred (I hope that's the right word) to during Silva's POV thought process in the beginning, but not during the smut itself. I only make these warnings because it's better to be safe than sorry.

You may also notice Faith is a little different (possibly) personality-wise, and I imagine its because of being influenced by certain characters (like say... Sharky and the Drubmans (mostly Adelaide)) and this is set many months post-game and Collapse, and both she and Silva (plus Azriel) have taken shelter in Silva's prepper bunker, so I imagine at this point a certain level of character growth and change has occurred. I’ve also given a short personal explanation in the tags as well.

Author's Final Edit: I've been working on this nonstop for four weeks, at differing states in mind but refused to leave it unfinished, so apologies in advance if it's not that good or even a little rushed (as you can likely tell it's no longer October) than what I originally planned. Anyway gonna post this now and hope for the best.

I'll be sure to reblog this post with the link to the one that'll be posted on my AO3. Anyway, enjoy the fic under the cut:

Title: This Sweet Leisure

Series: The Silver Chronicles (Far Cry 5)

Character/s: Silva Omar (Deputy OC), Faith Seed, Azriel Omar (mentioned OC), Irene Neon (past referenced OC), Persephone Neon (past referenced OC), Elsa Omar (past referenced OC), Kamski Neon (past referenced OC), Tracey Lader (referenced) and Father Adam Omar (Barely referenced OC and thank the Gods, he's super dead).

Words: 7,734

Quiet moments had never been something Silva thought she could afford to enjoy.

She was familiar with various forms of quiet though. Many of which denied her comfort, including peace, or even leisure.

She had experienced a cold kind of quiet throughout her youth. It was tense and foreboding, a wordless warning hanging over their heads like the ill-omen of a guillotine. The only sounds allowed were the roaring winds of a wrathful blizzard outside and the slight clinking of plates and utensils shared between two quivering hermanas.

She had spent many nights as a child in a quiet that was always too quiet. That was the worst kind of quiet for Silva. Dread left her restless, sleep evaded her like the answers she constantly prayed for, haunted by anticipation as she listened for the recognizable signs of Father's approaching footsteps outside her bedroom door...

But the most familiar quiet she's known would be that of loss and mourning. The moments where silence would replace where there should be joyous laughter, or whispered promises, or the normalcy of conversation.

Where she expected a small form to run around the house once she exited her room, her little one's delighted giggles filling the room as her ginger bangs bounced from her enthused race... she found nothing and the heaviness would weigh down on her heart once more.

She would spend periods lamenting on each and every loss, whether it be family, friends, her amor or her beloved hija.

When trapped in this quiet, her mind would betray her... always following the same maze in the labyrinth of her thoughts, with each memory visited and revisited while she punished herself for the grave inescapable sin of not being strong enough, fast enough, doing enough.

Simply put, the quiet moments remind her of how no matter what, she'll never be enough to keep those she cared for. She found no escape through sleep either; her imagination was often the most cruel.

Punished by constant night terrors, which only grew more frequent from there.

Perhaps that is why she enjoyed the action, those fast-paced minutes that squandered on hours. The wars, the fighting, the very act of survival, the violence she despised, justifying her use of it as necessary and right.

The very same violence that took pieces of her until she was nearly hollow from the high. But at least she couldn't feel anything but the emptiness afterwards... distracted from the grief.

What a twist of fate that, at the end of the very collapse of society, all she could have would be quiet moments. For approximately seven years, she would have to live in the very bunker she had dismissed as a paranoid and needless precaution, even for the likes of Silva herself.

In spite of this, she had kept it well-maintained. At least to honor one of Elsa's lasting gifts to her.

And even though Elsa and Persephone were long gone from her life, Silva would be forever grateful of it since it had saved the last two of her most precious remaining loved ones; Faith and Azriel.

It was a rough few months at first, for herself especially, but they made it work. A routine had been set up, tasks given for each of them, and both Faith and Azriel seemed to have put aside their animosity, for the sake of Silva at least.

Silva, though prohibited from putting too much strain on her muscles, had recovered enough to do the laborious tasks that the other two were unable to do, as well as keep track of their inventory, rationing the power and water they were using, keeping track of the days by making calendars (at least enough so they have a fraction of an idea of when they should leave), keeping the only functional clock left out of Azriel's reach, general cooking and proceeding with Azriel's education (and ensuring her pequeño inventora utilizes the parts they don't need for her machinations).

Usually these tasks were completed with the assistance of both Faith and Azriel.

Faith utilized the knowledge she retained from the Eden's Gate to correctly double-check and correspond with the information Silva gave, as well as support a garden from within the bunker that gave them all fresh fruit and vegetables besides the preservatives, aided Silva in Azriel's education with subjects Silva had less expertise in and was the only person in the bunker with any specialization in medicine, besides Silva's apparently redundant strategy of "ignore the problem until it starts affecting you personally" or "only treat problem when close to the nearest convenient bandage, stitches or medic".

(Silva could admit Faith had a point about her reckless behavior).

Azriel's days were mostly spent assisting Silva, or Faith when the girl chose to stop detesting the other woman. She attended her "classes", whether it be academical or practical, so she'd be as prepared as she could be for whatever was outside the bunker doors.

Azriel's hobby in engineering proved to be handy, with Silva and Faith both stumped on the workings of such a subject despite their reliance on the bunker's generator and water filter.

They'd have their meals together, and would often spend time in the same living space once their tasks were done. When it came to nightly routines, Silva would bathe Azriel herself, and would share her own shower with Faith as to not waste water.

Those moments were strictly kept tame, given Azriel's close proximity from the bedroom and the necessity of the water. However, Silva didn't mind, as she and Faith got to be closer, with hands touching the places neither wanted others to see. Their scars were only for them to admire, neither holding shame nor judgement as they took care of each other.

After cleaning off, Silva would put Azriel to bed in one of the spare bedrooms she had claimed for herself as Faith shut off any non-essential power for the night, before both she and Silva retired to their shared designated master bedroom.

That was where the quiet became more prominent.

It wasn't so bad; sometimes one or both of them would be able to drift off. Other times, sleep would evade them, and they just enjoyed each others company, sharing stories and jokes, their voices barely above a whisper. Often they'd talk about the plans for the next day, perhaps wonder about the future... or even confess their own fears, quelling doubts. A peaceful quiet.

There were few nights when these fears took form as nightmares, interrupting their rests. Such nights were spent comforting the other in an understanding silence, few words exchanged while they found warmth in each other's arms. A comforting quiet.

But those night terrors were becoming far and few as the months passed, and Silva found herself cherishing the quiet as much as she did the time spent with her little family.

Though months passed, there was a slight change from the routine, one night where Silva rediscovered a quiet she hadn't experienced in a long while, and would revisit the following weeks.

Although sexual intimacy wasn't a first for either Silva or Faith, after the Collapse, they prioritized the ensured function of the bunker, recovering from their own physical and mental wounds and Azriel's well-being over their passion. It was the practical thing to do in that situation.

However, so much time had passed since the Collapse had occurred, and though the intimacy they did share was cherished and fulfilling, there was a familiar desire that burned patiently; the want to be connected, the need to be closer, to make the other sing with pleasure, and to share their love and affection through one of the few ways they could.

After Silva tucked Azriel in for the night, she had returned to the master bedroom. Shutting the door behind her, she turned to the sight of Faith awaiting her by the foot of their bed.

Silva shared a soft smile with her amor, making her way over to Faith to give a nightly embrace and kiss before bed.

Faith had stopped Silva with a hand on her chest, green eyes looking deeply into grey as the former herald tried to put her desires into words.

"I want you," she said softly, a noticeable shade of light pink across her face with eyes full of a need that stole Silva's breath away, "Tonight. I want you, and I want to make you feel good."

Silva felt a burst of exhilaration invade her body, her nerves lightened up with renewed enthusiasm. The feeling only increased when Faith delicately held one of Silva's hands and brought it to her soft lips.

The kisses she pressed down onto the faded scarred tissue sent tingling signals throughout Silva's body, a pleased sigh escaping her lips as her cheeks darkened into a blush. Faith gauged Silva's reaction, her gaze anticipating her answer and yet pleading all the same, lips brushing against her sensitive hand.

Silva responded with a loving smile, using her spare hand to cup Faith's face, fingers caressing the skin like light kisses as she brought her own face closer.

"Si," Silva had acceded, connecting their lips, feeling the thrum of Faith's enthused hum. When breaking off the kiss, the former deputy stated, "Under one condition."

Faith visibly wet her lips, tilting her head into Silva's palm as she asked, barely above a whisper, "And what would that be?"

Silva smirked, and Faith waited with bated breath on Silva's response (but if she hadn't been so focused on Silva's answer, she'd notice beloved's grey eyes shined with a flicker of silver), bringing her chapped lips to ghost along Faith's ear, and purred, "I'll make you feel bliss first."

Faith broke into a grin, and wrapped her arms around her lover's neck as both of their desires heightened, lips caught in a dance before Silva took the lead.

While their tongues communed and tasted one another, Silva's hands wandered, brushing over Faith's dress and squeezing at certain areas to bring out those small noises she never gets to hear in any other moment.

She settled both her wandering hands at Faith's hip and culo respectively, giving a squeeze on both that elicited a surprised yelp from her amor, though a giggle soon followed after.

Silva retracted from the kiss as her hands reached the hem of Faith's dress, "Let's get this dress off, mi querida."

Faith only nodded as her hands joined Silva's to slip the dress off from over her head rather smoothly, freeing her perky breasts for only Silva's eyes to see. She pressed her hands onto the skin, how good and warm it felt under her touch. Her thumb grazed over a scar just under Faith's rib cage.

Her attention was deterred however by her amor's impatient fingers unbuttoning her shirt.

Silva followed suit, unbuttoning the rest of her dress shirt and shrugging it off. She reached for the strap of her bra behind her, but Faith ceased her struggle when she pressed her hands onto Silva's clothed breasts.

"Arms up, darling," Faith directed, and Silva saw the glimpse of the herald whose reputation commanded fear and respect from her foes. It sent an exhilarating shiver down the former deputy's body, feeling a twitch in her lower body as she followed her amor's orders.

Faith pulled the undergarment over her lover's head, tossing it away. Silva didn't bother to chide about the messiness, figuring it to be a issue she'll deal with tomorrow. In the mean time, she was too preoccupied with giving Faith's greedy hands access to feeling her swell chest up. She let Faith grope at her breasts, hands wandering all over her exposed upper half. Even in the darkness, Faith accurately pinpointed every faded scar there was on this portion of the Omar woman's body.

From her healed cuts and slashes, to the closed scarring from past bullet wounds, to her shoulders; the left harbored old burns, while the right was less clearer, though the texture of the skin was notably a shade lighter, if only slightly.

Silva hummed from the touches she received, massaging Faith's breasts in return. Faith gaped in pleasure, and Silva jumped at the opportunity to reconnect their lips, tongue inserted back in, this time to dominate.

Faith moaned into Silva's mouth, and the reverberation spurred Silva on. Her hands moved to behind Faith, she pulled the other woman's body against hers, their chests colliding. Faith's hands gripped at Silva's back, pushing herself against her lover to chase after the pleasure of grinding their breasts together.

Silva slowly lead Faith backwards to the bed, letting the foot of the bed buckle Faith's legs into sitting down.

Without hesitation, Faith spread her bare legs to give Silva a peek at the lacy white lingerie underwear, embroidered with a familiar pattern, that she had adorned for this occasion. Silva got the impression that her amor had been planning this for some time.

Silva wouldn't disappoint.

Though that pattern did look familiar-

Flowers. Of course, Silva noted in mild amusement.

Faith closed her legs together and dragged her underwear down, shimmying the flower-patterned lingerie down to her ankles, kicking them off to the floor. She opened her legs once more, displaying her nude, bare self for Silva's eyes to feast upon. The sight made Silva's crotch felt uncomfortably restrictive, but she restrained herself from taking her pants off and making love to Faith there and then.

Silva wanted to draw this out; she wanted Faith to feel the greatest heights of this high until she was fully satiated, as well as for herself too.

Caressing her amor's face, Silva's eyes lingered down to Faith's wet folds awaiting her, the light brown bundle of curling hairs layered at the top, and asked, "May I?"

Faith gave an eager and affirming nod, and Silva descended down to her knees until she was face to face with the younger woman's lower lips. Putting her amor's legs over her shoulders, Silva circled two fingers around her labia to stimulate more wetness and gather it onto her fingers, while her other hand's thumb gently brushed against her clit.

She heard Faith's breath hitch above, which made Silva temporarily halt, her eyes meeting green to wordlessly check on her pareja. Faith met her lover's gaze and returned an assuring nod. Silva took a breath and continued to tease her amor's slick pussy and clit, feeling a tug of pride within herself when she heard a soft airy sigh come from above.

Satisfied with the slickness, she inserted one finger inside, earning her a gasp and small moan from Faith. She massaged her index inside the warm insides before inserting a second finger to join the first, curling and gently twisting both as she proceeded to press a bit firmly on Faith's clit with her thumb.

Spurred on by the sounds of Faith's heavier breathing and soft moans, Silva gave a trail of kisses along both of her thighs, perhaps lightly sucking at the flesh to leave a mark or two where no one but both of them would see.

She carefully twisted her two slick-covered closed fingers to face her and opened them up in a V-shape, spreading her amor's vagina.

Silva leaned closer, breathing in her scent. The pungent tangy musk tinted with a hint of earthy sweetness to it. A floral scent really; not like the acrid sweetness of the Bliss though. That had long since been washed away.

Without wasting another moment, she pressed her tongue flat against Faith's vulva, licking it in a glide upwards until she reaches her clit.

Faith tasted like honey, with a hint of sourness that reminded Silva of yogurt. It was something surprising to discover; how different the taste was. She'd expected a metallic taste and bitterness not unlike coffee when she first went down on Faith, as she had remembered Irene's being, and the few women she had brief relations with holding a similar taste, but had been pleasantly unprepared for the flavor.

She continued to lap up the slickness, proceeding to explore with wide licks that swished around the folds of her amor's vulva, enjoying the sweet little noises she drew out and the feeling of Faith's legs shaking over her shoulders.

Silva hadn't expected Faith to cross her legs to pull her mouth closer, but the Omar woman held no complaints. She focused on flexing her tongue deeper inside, licking every nook and cranny.

Silva felt Faith's hand furl into her dark hair to keep the former deputy where she was, grinding herself against her lover's tongue. Silva hummed her appreciation into her amor's pussy, the vibrating sensation provoking a whimper out of Faith.

Feeling her lover's tongue retracting, Faith almost expressed her dissatisfaction with the lack of contact until Silva's lips enveloped around her swelling clit, lightly sucking as her tongue gently circled around it.

Faith choked out a cry as she felt Silva's two fingers re-enter to massage at her sensitive flesh. Lips parted, her moans didn't escape quietly, though it didn't discourage Silva from her relentless efforts to bring about Faith's high.

Silva heard Faith murmur out words incoherently yet consistently (though that may be due to the thighs squeezed around her head canceling out most noises), though was unable to inquire about it as she felt Faith's legs tense around her.

She had enough time to glance her eyes up to see Faith slightly arch her back before she felt the inner walls of her vagina constrict and spasm.

Silva had half-a-mind to have her mouth open when fluid squirted at her face. She lapped up the sweet sticky fluids as Faith rode her high out.

Leaving soft rewarding kisses around her amor's sensitive flesh and thighs, Silva began crawling up to trail her kisses along Faith's waist and stomach. She peppered her breasts, collarbone and neck with special attention, sucking on the skin to leave little marks.

She kissed along her jaw, face and settled on her lips. Face to face, Silva admired the flushed yet blissful expression that resided on her amor.

Breathing returning to a regular intake, Faith opened her green eyes to gaze into Silva's adoring ones.

"You look so beautiful right now amor," Silva complimented, lightly tucking a loose hair behind Faith's ear.

The Seed woman licked her lips, the smile on her face joined by a light blush from the praise. And though Silva meant what she said, she still had the need to confirm.

"Was that good for you, mi querida?" Silva asked softly, searching for any hint of potential discomfort from the young woman below her. Faith blinked at Silva, maybe touched by the concern, maybe in bafflement at the question. Though she proceeded to bring her head up to rest against Silva's own.

"It was wonderful. You ate me out so well my sweetheart," Faith assured with a pleased sigh. She proceeded to bring her lips to the shell of Silva's ear and whisper, "Now why don't you take those pants off? I can't be the only one naked here."

Silva gave an affirmative nod and obliged to Faith's request. Scooting to the side of bed, she pulled down her loose night pants, kicking them off at her ankles. She went to remove her boxers next, but Faith slipped up behind with wandering and electrifying hands that danced across her front.

Faith peppered light kisses along her neck, and softer ones to her old burn scars, which Silva appreciated. One stray hand palmed over the bulge throbbing against her boxers, massaging the member, earning a shameless moan from Silva.

"You're so good to me, Silva. Always accommodating. Putting my needs before yours," Faith revered warmly, massaging the stretching bulge that began to tent up at her boxers, eliciting a low groan from Silva, while Faith stated, "You're so full of love. And I'm happy to be someone you share it with. Which is why I want to make tonight special for you. To give my own love back to you, in the most intimate act together."

Silva bit at her bottom lip as she felt herself get harder at Faith's words, the kind and adoring words flustering the woman. She felt Faith reach into her boxers to pull out her erect cock. Freed from its confines, Silva didn't try to suppress the moan that rose in her throat when her amor curled one hand at the base and began to pump.

Precum leaked from the tip, and Faith brushed a thumb over it, spreading the slickness around the head. She reached down to gently massage at her scrotum to further tease her lover, receiving a choked yelp that morphed pleased groan. Satisfied with her work, Faith tugged at the boxers, with Silva pulling it down the rest of the way.

"Now for what I promised," Faith purred sultry, intertwining her hand with Silva, leading the compliant woman to crawl further onto the queen bed with her.

With both now bare and their hearts beating with a thrill, Faith took initiative, placing a halting hand onto Silva's chest to halt her approach and lightly push her down backwards.

"Can you sit for me?" Faith requested, flashing sweet honest pearls at her, and Silva nodded affirmatively as she followed suit, sitting down with her legs splayed out, her cock proudly pointed up as Silva's eyes traced ever bit of Faith's body.

She swallowed on nothing, wishing she could count the stars to mark a number down of how much she had been so unbelievably lucky to have not only meeting Faith, but get to be with her. And to keep her and Azriel safe, a small relieved voice spoke up, though it didn't last, You never were able to do that with anyone else.

Silva almost frowned at the thought, and briefly closed her eyes. What happened wasn't my fault. I did all I could in those moments, she reminded herself, defending against the guilt, just as Faith coached her.

She opened her eyes when she felt Faith's hands grasp onto her shoulders, her legs at both sides of her hips. Her wet entrance hovering above Silva's leaking head, though Faith paused as she cupped Silva's face into her hands, the next words she spoke sending a spike of pleasure through her veins, "I want you inside me."

Heart fluttering at the proclamation, Silva wanted nothing more than to obey, to be inside her amada and feel how she clenched around her, to murmur little praises into her skin as she just enjoyed having her amor in her arms. However, through the haze of love and lust, she had a realization, "I don't have condoms. I don't think there are any down here."

"Nor birth control," Faith informed her, green eyes gazing down, and Silva wanted to kick herself for not noticing when she did stock checks, "I checked the infirmary; it just wasn't included amongst the stock."

Silva could take a guess why. The infirmary had been an additional room inserted by Kamski himself without her permission. Though she was grateful now for his foresight, she felt an annoyance towards Kamski's paranoia overstocking the infirmary with supplies for illness, injury, surgery and even birth delivery, but was flippant about her chances of finding a new partner that he was he convinced her contraceptives wouldn't be necessary. By Jannah, why did I listen to him?

She brought a hand over one of Faith's own which still had her face cupped, thumb brushing at the knuckles. While Silva certainly wasn't against the idea of unprotected sex, especially if Faith gave her consent, under normal circumstances there would be a world with safety nets to fall back on if they decided to risk it.

However, they were stuck in a bunker, while luckily stocked for more than three people with food, medicine and other resources, it was without the contraceptives to avoid the high-risk results of the act.

She would love nothing more than to make love to Faith, to be inside her, to join her on the brink of their own bliss and just release. However, she knew of Faith's reservations, not to the act itself, but the potential consequences of said act.

Instead, she suggested, "If you really want to do this, I can try the pulling out, which does comes with risk. But we don't have to, we can do something else..."

Silva quieted down when Faith pressed a finger to her lips, shushing wordlessly. Faith smacked her lips together as she gazed at Silva with sincere affection.

"I appreciate that you're thinking of me, but there's no need to fret, my lotus flower," Faith said with a fond smile, running a hand through Silva's long dark hair, her green eyes full of a devotion Silva's doesn't believe she's seen on her before, not even with Joseph, not this intense and self-assured.

"But I made my mind up about this weeks ago," Faith informed her lover, an adoring smile blessing her face, "I want to feel you. And more importantly, I want you to feel good. I know you personally dislike the condoms. Not only that, but I know you'd rather not pull out. And yet you do those... all for me. And I'm flattered. Which is why tonight, I wanted to do this for you. No contraceptives... even if they ideally should have been optional... and no pulling out either. And whatever comes after this... I'm okay with it."

Silva blinked, not expecting this from Faith. Although she wanted nothing more to accept her words at face value, she still had to make sure, "What about what you told me? I thought you didn't want to risk-"

"I know what I had said. It was something I took time to think about too," Faith acknowledged, but her tone changed to something more impassioned, "But... my time spent with you and Azriel has made me reconsider. I know you. I trust you. Of all the people I was lucky to fall for, I'm glad it's with you. Because you won't abandon me. You'll be with me, through it all."

Faith's hands glided down to behind Silva's head and neck, bringing her beloved's face closer to her chest, adjusting Silva so her ear was to the skin.

"You hear that?" Faith asked above, her heartbeat thumping in a swift measured pace, and Silva only nodded, still a little lost until her amor explained, "That's my excitement at the thought of us giving in for tonight. Of us quivering and trembling in ecstasy, on the toe-curling edge until I milk you dry. That's what I want, but most importantly, I know that's what you want to do."

Silva felt herself burning up; from her head being in Faith's bosom? The lewd description she'd never expect Faith to use (Had she rubbed off on her somehow? The Drubmans and Sharky? Or had she always had this side of her? came the discord of thoughts) until this occasion? Or the admission that she not only knew of Silva's concealed desires, but wishes for her to act on them too?? Perhaps it was a combination, but Silva wasn't entirely sure.

Silva lifted her face to look into Faith's unabashed green eyes, finding no hint of doubt in those beautiful orbs.

"I want this. You want this. And we won't be unprepared," Faith assured, nuzzling her head into the nook of Silva's neck, hands residing at her back, "We have an abundance of supplies with everything needed for a full-term pregnancy, and the infirmary is ridiculously prepared with instructions and instruments ready for when the day comes. I know this is selfish... but I want to make something beautiful with you. To carry the culmination of our love within me. No more holding yourself back... take a leap, love. Put yourself first for once."

Silva chewed at her bottom lip as she felt her cock grow stiffer at the idea of succumbing to her base desires, and to join Faith through a union of their raw bodies, rutting into the warmth of Faith's inner walls until she released herself into her amada's womb, until she was sure Faith was pregnant.

Faith got her attention with a small kiss on the lips, green eyes staring straight into Silva's souls as she said her next words with utmost seriousness.

"I know how I sound, saying all these things to you, but here and now, I want you to understand that ultimately... it's your call, my lotus flower. If you don't want to risk it, I'll respect your decision. You're not obligated to do this, not even for me. I can do something else to have you reach your own high if you'd prefer," Faith offered, one hand reaching down to Silva's hard cock, stroking at the shaft, earning a pleased trill, "If you want to proceed, you already know I'm all for it. If you don't, I'll be happy with whatever decision you make. It's up to you."

Silva was grateful that Faith was willing to wait for her consent. She took the opportunity to think about it. She found Faith's points to be valid; they had an infirmary with information and instruments at the ready, the bunker was well-supplied, Silva has the experience to take care of Faith and their not-yet conceived child, she knows Azriel would be thrilled for a sibling and she had Faith's approval. Hell, she wanted to do it.

I want to do it, Silva realized, an anxious energy buzzing within her, I want to have a child with her.

Silva met Faith's gaze once more. Her bright grey eyes scanned Faith's green, and her hands moved up to rest on her amor's waist as she said, "I want to do it."

Faith's eyes blew open, delight filling her face, "Really? You mean it?"

Silva gave Faith a smirk that sent a shiver of exhilaration up the other woman's spine, "Si. Now mi amor, how do you like the sound of me cumming into you tonight?"

Faith's only response was a resounding, "Yes."

With a gentle tap from Silva, Faith proceeded to lower herself until her entrance met Silva's tip, grinding their sex together, the sensation causing Silva to gasp agape while Faith husked out a wanton groan.

Silva couldn't deny her own heart's elation at the feeling of Faith's slickness making contact with her own precum, mixing and leaking down her shaft.

Faith sunk until she enveloped the head of Silva's cock. The former deputy groaned at the sensation of Faith adjusting to her, her walls stretching and clenching around her. Faith masked her own moan as a pleased hum, hand bringing Silva's head to her collarbone.

Silva planted more kisses and small bites to decorate her skin as she delicately maneuvered Faith past her cock's head and down the shaft. Her amada rocked tenderly, rasping out breathy, needy moans as Silva's cock stretched her pussy.

Both women's breath hitched when Faith reached the base of Silva's cock, the latter once again adjusting to the former. For Faith, it felt warmer, and she felt fuller with Silva inside compared to when she wore the condom. Silva could feel her amor's slickness and heat, how she pulsed within her, how wonderful it felt to have Faith's walls clenched around Silva. It felt right.

Both held each other close, until Silva's knees rose up until they were behind Faith's back. She grabbed hold of her amor's legs, gaze bor into her green orbs, a determined look not unlike what Faith saw during the Reaping gracing Silva's features.

"Are you ready?" Silva asked one last time, giving Faith the chance to back out. Faith gave a thrilled, "Yes", her green eyes begging for more. Silva proceeded to ask, "You remember what word to use if things get too much for you?"

Faith nodded once more, recounting, "Tulip."

Silva gave a confirming nod, "That's right. Buena chica. Now stretch out your legs and lay back for me, mi amor."

Faith did as instructed, stretching her legs out and, with Silva's guidance, she locked them around Silva's waist. Faith proceeded to lean back onto the support of Silva's thighs.

Silva hooked one hand under Faith's culo, giving it a teasing squeeze as she leaned forward to bring her other arm around Faith's back. The former herald hooked one hand at the nape of Silva's neck while her other gave herself some support from behind, grasping onto Silva's leg to anchor herself.

She gave Silva an affirming nod to go ahead, and Silva tested the waters with a small thrust with a rock of her hips. Faith gasped out a lewd noise, and with another thrust, she let out a pleased hum at the contact, and as Silva thrust again and again at a steady pace, Faith began to pant out long, wanton moans while Silva breathed out grunts and husked out her own impassioned moans.

Silva continued to thrust into Faith as her amada continued meeting her thrusts with enthusiastic rocks, the wet sound of skin slapping against each other all that filled the room.

"You feel so good," Silva murmured in a drawl, and as she rocked her hips up into Faith's slick velvet walls, she let out a surprising growl, "Mierda, you're coño's perfect for me, Faith. I need to fill you up... I need to get you pregnant."

Faith let out an enthused titter, her gut recoiling with warmth like the hammer of a gun, and she teased, "Yeah? Is that what you're going to do, my lotus flower? Rut into my bare, unprotected pussy raw until you cum? Spill all your seed into my empty womb until I'm all nice and full? That's fucking hot. You're so sexy whenever you speak your mind. Gets me really wet."

Faith gasped as she felt Silva's thrusts quicken in pace, causing her body to rock from the jerky movement. Though Faith was not displeased by the change as her content moans and her sweet gaping features indicated.

Images flashed within Silva's mind while her sharp eyes lingered on Faith; the flat of her stomach swollen with life for Silva to cherish both with the hold of one hand. Her bouncing breasts full of milk, perhaps more swell and more sensitive than before. Silva was also fascinated by what Faith's stretch marks would look like, during and after the pregnancy, the beautiful markings long-lasting evidence of their joyous union. She remembered only briefly being able to admire Irene's post-birth marks a few days after Persephone was born.

Silva could feel herself reaching her end, she knew in the way her breathing grew strained, and her cock became stiffer and hotter. It was a familiar sensation, but here it was special, as nothing was stopping her from filling Faith up fully now.

"Faith, look at me, querida," Silva drew Faith's green eyes to retain direct contact with her grey, "That's good, mi amor. I'm glad to see your beautiful face. This is a moment in our bond I want to last. I'm close. I'm so close now. I'm going to cum inside you. And I'm going to get you pregnant. I want to hear you tell me you want it. I need to hear it."

So close to coming undone, Faith refrained from breaking their shared contact as she husked out, "I want this. I want to feel you cum inside me. I want to be full with your seed. I want to be pregnant with your child. I want all of you, Silva."

Silva felt herself tighten and her resolve to hold on break. With little strength, she wrapped her arms around Faith as her amada tightened her legs around Silva's waist, both pulled their sweaty bodies close to each other. Both clung to one another as the only lifeline, as Silva gave one last rock of her hips and their sexes spasm.

Faith's walls constricted and clamped around her cock in a creamy coat and milk up all that she unloaded inside. Faith wailed out a moan while Silva shouted in ecstasy. She gave a sparse few weaker thrusts, and felt Faith's walls throb followed by her amor cumming once more.

Both refrained from separating, catching their breaths within each other's arms, fingers playing with hair, breasts pressed against each other from each heave of their chests, basking in each other's mind-buzzing afterglow.

The embrace lasted until Silva lightly pressed a kiss on Faith's soft lips before she removed herself out of Faith, her member deflating and spent for the night. She laid Faith down on the blanket of the bed, who was recovering from the intense pleasure she experienced twice. With limbs still interlocked, she laid beside Faith's prone form.

"Thank you," Silva told Faith, the latter humming in question, dreariness weighing on her half-lidded eyes, so Silva elaborated, "For this. For letting me hold you, and kiss you, and taste you, and... make love. You made me feel so good. Tonight was just perfect."

Faith giggled, green eyes gazing into Silva's grey with adoration, "Of course, honey. You did amazingly too. I noticed you had a lot more enthused determination. Not that you hadn't before but... there was a more primal feel. I liked it."

Silva felt her face heat up from Faith's appraisal, feeling her cock twitch. It hadn't gone unnoticed by her amor; Faith bit at her bottom lip as she commented, "And with our new goal, we'll be doing this again for the next few nights, I'd hope."

Silva felt an excitement burn at the thought of doing this again, though it reminded her of some things she should do to help.

"I'll need to go get a new blanket from the linen cupboard since..." Silva trailed off as she looked at the damp spot, "...yeah. But in the meantime, we should have your pelvis raised a little higher to increase the chances of conception."

Silva couldn't recall where she gained that information from; whether it had been something Kamski had somehow brought up in conversation for whatever reason or something she had learned while reading for any information from the old medical textbooks they could scavenge to help Irene during her pregnancy with her firstborn.

Regardless, Silva grasped a pillow and placed it underneath Faith's lower back, to raise her hips slightly above. Satisfied, Silva asked, "While I'm out, is there anything you need? Snacks? Water? A cloth to clean up?"

Faith shook her head, but made a small grunt as she tried to clear her coarse throat, "Water, please."

Silva gave a smile, caressing her amada's face before getting off the bed, "I'll be back in a jiff, mi amor."

Silva peeked out of the room, searching for any signs of the familiar orange-streak across the dark hair of her hija, hoping she was still asleep in her bed and not awoken by the noise, even if their rooms were fairly dense.

Spotting no signs of her fellow night owl, Silva exited the room, and made her way to the linen cupboard for the new blanket, and then dashed to the kitchen to get Faith's water.

With the glass filled and blanket over her shoulder, she made haste back to the master bedroom.

Closing the door behind her, she made her way back to Faith back on the bed. She placed the blanket down by the foot of the bed while taking the chance to admire her nude form. Though she noticed how Faith's hand was placed below her stomach, lost in thought.

Silva got onto the bed with a creak, breaking her amor's attention train of though and bringing her attention back to her.

Offering a smile, Silva didn't immediately inquire, instead tapping the glass of water, which earned her a soft gaze of appreciation.

She helped Faith lean up from the bed, and passed the glass of water to her. Once her amor's throat was satisfied, Silva had Faith temporarily hop off the bed so she could remove the ruined blanket (which she placed by the door for tomorrow) and laid down the newer, softer blanket.

Once the bed was ready, both Silva and Faith crawled back onto the bed, huddling close. Neither put back on their nightwear.

Silva brushed her fingers through Faith's light brown hair with enthusiasm and adoration in her heart. Faith snuggled into the crook of her neck, one finger tracing aimlessly at Silva's back.

"Are you alright, amor?" Silva asked softly, concern rearing its head once more, though she had a fraction of an idea of what Faith would be thinking about.

Faith glanced her green eyes up at her, briefly holding contact before she nodded.

"Just thinking?" Silva pried gently, observing how her face made those little quirks, subtle twitches, halting furrows and the way her lips open partially before closing again.

Faith responded with a small and affirming hum. The vibration's contact against her skin, although short, eased her hammering heart.

"Want to talk about it?" She finally asked, swallowing any remaining nerves as she discerned Faith's expression towards the question. Does she have any regrets? came the question she was worried for the answer of.

Faith hadn't replied immediately, stewing in the silence as she gathered her words, and said, "I'm just... coming to terms with this. Wondering... maybe a little worried. I've made quite the spontaneous decision, no different than what I've done before."

From the top of her head, Silva could only recall three that she could be referring to; leaving home with Tracey, joining Eden's Gate and helping Silva and Azriel in their goals.

"Are you having... regrets?" Silva asked hesitantly, but knew it was important.

She was a little surprised when Faith snorted incredulously at it.

"No... not that at all. It's a choice I'm not backing down from," she answered fully looking up to her, bringing one hand to cup the side of Silva's face with tender affection, slowly nuzzling their foreheads together, "I'm just a little nervous is all. This is a new and rather big step I would never have considered in my life before meeting you and Azriel. But it is something I want to experience, as long as you're with me."

Relief flooded Silva's mind, washing away any lingering presence of the ugly guilt that tried to form.

"Besides, I liked tonight as much as you did. And I loved how you were too," Faith said as she "walked" two fingers all the way up Silva's chest to her lips, seductively brushing both over her lover's bottom lip as she leaned forward with a whisper, "And I'd hope to see more of that side of you last a few rounds in the night to come."

Silva joined her lips with her amor's, an unbridled smile curving up once again. I've been doing that a lot more recently, she noted, in spite of the sorrow she still feels for the loss of the world above.

Though that's not something she'd focus on as of now. She had better priorities she needed to attend to.

Disconnecting their lips, Silva replied, "I'll let you hold me to those words. In the meantime... want to just snuggle until sleep takes us?"

"Yeah," Faith snickered, eyes drooping lower as she cuddled closer into Silva, "I won't refuse such an offer like that."

Silva wrapped her arms further around Faith, as she just cherished this moment of holding onto her amada diente de león.

Faith dozed off first, and though Silva was not far behind her, within the dark of their room, she whispered into Faith's hair, "We're going to be okay. I promise, mi amor."

With nothing else to say until tomorrow, she let out a content sigh as she dragged the soft blanket over their exposed bodies, and sunk into Faith's slumbering embrace. Finally finding a quiet to look forward to.

[A/n] Finally it's over. I can move on to the tag stuff I've missed.

[Skit #1: Faith: "How might Azriel take the news of a possible new sibling?" Silva: "I wouldn't worry about it. She'd probably be more thrilled at finally being taller than someone for once."]

[Skit #2: Kamski: "Alright I've installed a functioning infirmary into your doomsday bunker in the scenario we'd have to bunk together during a disaster." Silva: "...Not thrilled but ok." Kamski: "It's prepared for injuries, illnesses, surgeries and any pregnancies in the unlikely case we have others bunk with us." Silva: "That sounds good and all, but what about contraceptives?" Kamski: "Don't be ridiculous Silva... no one's stupid enough to fuck in a bunker during a disaster and neither of us are getting lucky enought to change our single status any time soon." Silva: "Hurtful but sounds legit." Years later... Silva: "Once I die, Kamski when I get my hands on you, you motherfu-"]

[rotteneldritchhorror]

Kinktober Day 11 ~ Blindfold

✞Memories of Church Bells✞

Pairings: Barry/Rafe Cameron

Summary: Barry blindfolds Rafe and takes him to the old church he used to worship at when he was young.

Warnings: Referenced religious trauma, referenced/implied homophobia, Barry grew up catholic and it fucked him up a little, smut obvs, religion kink, sacriledge lol

Extra Tags: Deity kink, blindfold, light bondage, sensory deprivation, power play, Sub Rafe Cameron, Dom Barry, dom/sub, oral sex, anal sex, bottom Rafe Cameron, top Barry, praise kink, religious imagery and symbolism, references to christianity (sin/virtue/etc), subspace, begging, use of the biblical Him to refer to Barry at times, possessiveness, simultaneous orgasm, emotionally healing sex

[hoshigray]

hi :333 picked these for you 🌻🌹🌼🌷

hope you are doing well my little bug >:3

🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹 LOTUS BABYYYYYY !!! I missed you so much, you have no idea !! And awwwww tysm for the pretty flowers, you lil goober, ur so sweet ♡

I'm doing good, my sweet, just here trying to finish this fic for tmrw. Hbu? And bye, did you just call me a bug? xD

[gladiatorcunt]

summary: feyd rautha x emperor’s afab oldest child!reader

cw: feet stuff, piss kink, implied eventual knifeplay/blood play, cannabalism, arranged marriage, feyd being so weird but reader lowkey loves it, facesitting but the kind where feyd would beg you to break his neck, spanking/mild painplay, very likely ooc feyd since i haven’t seen part 2 yet, use of “princes” and “wife”, wedding hunt and black cum hcs taken from @valeskafics , reader doesn’t really know what’s going on but they’re vibing

wc: 1.4k

block & move on if uncomfortable !!

do not repost, translate, or give ai my work

kinktober masterlist

Collapsing in relief has never been more appealing. You finally have a moment of respite after vigorous and exhausting wedding festivities, and you need to collect yourself. This marriage to the Na-Baron Feyd Rautha Harkonnen was only brought to your attention a week before it would take place.

Surprisingly, you didn’t really mind the man himself. It was just so sudden, is all. During any visits with his family, you had to be mindful of how you reacted to his cocky displays of ruthlessness and violence. Your father would have your head if he saw how tight you squeezed your thighs together or how much you panicked at the thought of leaving a puddle on your throne. Feyd always marked his departure with a cliche kiss to the back of your hand and a hissed promise that you couldn’t make out.

He would protect you at the very least if he didn’t love you. You’re not even sure that you love him, but this shameful crush could grow into something untamable if you lose your footing. Something… unbecoming of a member of the royal family. You wonder if it already has.

The wedding was as grand as could be, glittering decorations and finery followed by archaic rituals to please your in-laws. The Wedding Hunt in particular sent your heartbeat into overdrive, but the satisfaction on your betrothed’s face when he caught his “prize” was intoxicating. Feyd Rautha kisses like he kills, you were quick to discover, fiercely and uncaring of any blood that might be shed.

You’re brought out of your reminiscing by your now husband closing the door to your room behind him. You only have another day with your family before you’re to leave for Giedi Prime. There has hardly been time to get to know the man you will lie beside for the rest of your life, until now.

“Wife.” He bluntly greets you, awkwardly nodding his head in an effort to maintain his “tough” image. You won’t tease him about the barest hint of blush on his cheekbones, but you treasure it nonetheless.

You humor him, “Husband.” Your nod mirrors his and you take a seat at the long table in the middle of the room after Feyd pulls a chair out for you.

This was the next part of the ritual, where the newly married couple must eat a meal that one partner made for the other. It sounds simple enough that you don’t think anything of it.

Feyd makes a gesture and your food is placed before you by one of your family’s servants. They look a bit queasy and green in the face but they’re gone before you can ask if they’re alright.

“I hope you like it, princess.” Feyd says with a barely there smirk, pointing to the… pie in front of you. “I cut down many people for it.”

You raise an eyebrow at that but bring your knife to take a slice of the pie anyway. Upon lifting the piece onto your plate, you notice eyeballs, flesh, tongues, and some sort of black liquid running throughout the filling. You freeze in place, not even meeting your husband’s eyes. One blue eye seems to twitch and the black substance makes a sick sound as you move it around with your fork.

“The other men who your father considered, my concubines….. I actually can’t tell you which of them are in that slice, but they are all there.” He whispers in your ear, having gotten up from his position opposite you to feed you himself.

You respect the ritual despite your urge to throw up, so you swallow what he gives you. He grins, swiping a thumb down to your throat to feel the food travel. He squeezes your cheeks when you’re done, and you open your mouth to show him that you ate it all.

“That’s my princess.” He condescendingly croons, bending down to run his tongue all over your face before standing up and pushing you to lie flat on the cold table. “But I'm afraid that it’s time for me to have my meal.”

Your elaborate wedding gown is slashed to shreds, the cool tip of his blade moving down your flesh until it reaches your lace covered mound. He taps the hilt of his weapon on your hood and unceremoniously tosses it on the floor.

You didn’t expect the reveal of your wedding night attire to be under such unorthodox circumstances, but can you say you expected any of this?

“A worthy bride with a body to match, thank you for this gift, your highness”. He says in a half joking manner, grinning with too many teeth as he runs his hands along the delicate material. He toys with the idea of cutting this little number to pieces too, but your holes are left conveniently exposed. Maybe he’s fallen too in love with it, he’s been in love with you since you met years ago anyway.

The lingerie is a custom designed piece littered with straps and sheer fabric that leave nothing to the imagination. Your tits are accentuated by a seashell-like pattern bra and there’s even a little black bow above your pussy. The frilly strips of material wrapped around your thighs do nothing to keep your curves contained and the tiny tulle skirt frames your ass beautifully.

Your husband drinks in the sight of you before pulling your ankles to rest on his shoulders. You watch in arousal and shock as he broadly licks the sole of your right foot. He groans unabashedly, nuzzling at your heel and then dipping his tongue in the spaces between your toes. You wiggle at the ticklish feeling but you don’t kick him away.

He really gets into it when he starts sucking your toes, bobbing his head and making sure you’re watching as curls his tongue around each one. His eyes roll back in pleasure once he reaches the last toe on your other foot, and drool trickles down your leg when he’s done getting acquainted with the taste of it. He presses a kiss to the top of each toe but then the weird softness is ruined by the bite he adorns your ankle with.

Feyd’s mouth makes a slick popping sound as he pulls away from your feet. You’re at a loss for words when he proceeds to lie down on the table beside you. He gropes your breast quickly and leans over to give you a surprisingly chaste peck. The look on his face is a smug one but his eyes say something unknown to you, soft and obsessive all at once. It’s as if he knows something you don’t.

“Now sit on my face, claim your new throne, princess.”

You don’t know how long he keeps you hostage there, your cunt soaking him as he devours you to the bone. He doesn’t let you become too relaxed, nipping your clit as he sees fit and clawing the skin of your ass. Eventually your gut aches and though at first you think you’re about to cum already, the second heartbeat in your clit feels different. You come to a horrifying realization that you need to relieve yourself.

“H-husband, what the fuck- I… I need to pee.” You’d rather be dead than doing what you are and saying what you are, but nature calls.

“Yes, that’s it.” He growls and digs his nails into your ass, jigging the globes in his hands before sharply slapping them. “Piss all over my face, get me wet with it like a good wife.”

The shriek you let out when you do just that is abhorrent. Your legs shake as you spray hot pee on your husband’s skin, the gold mixing with the white of your simultaneous orgasm as it drips down his body. You try to move off of Feyd but he tightens his grip on your ass and yanks you back down. The sensation of a hungry mouth desperately sucking the fluids from you drives you wild.

“You have…… fuck- y-you have to stop, hah- i’m going to break.” You sob.

He chuckles into your piss covered pussy and then pulls away to speak, “Then break, a wife of House Harkonnen doesn’t need to be put together.”

You think you hear him say something about using his blade on your body later, but that might just be your own perverted idea.

[aomiiine]

So my kinktober list/plan is basically gonna be

1. Brahms!baji

2. Bonten!sanzu fucking u after being ordered to kill u w an obv plot twist

3. Demon!sukuna w reader that has a religious fam

4. Jennifers body!reader w jjk boys (maybe a series unrelated to kinktober)

5. Cannibal!capitano

6. Ghostface!aomine

[s-une]

I love your new theme, it makes me feel like we're having coffee together while we gossip about our favorite dilfs lol 🖤🖤

This is exactly what's going on 🙈 LSKDDDK I love the coffee and/or brown tones themes especially now that it will be fall 🤍🤍

[allzelemonz]

A Dynamic: Dutch Van der Linde X Arthur Morgan

A preemptive Dead Dove warning. I mean it. Read the warnings and don't read the fic if this is a sensitive topic for you.

Fictober Prompt: Day 26, Grooming Pairing Type: M/M Rating: M/Grooming, references to sex Warnings: Underage, dead dove, grooming, dark themes, Dutch’s mind is a wasteland, bad father Dutch, groping, head kissing, cuddling, affection Summary: Dutch doesn’t think what he does with Arthur is all that wrong. A/N: Goes without saying this is your extra dead dove warning. This is an interesting dynamic I had read a few fics on and I wanted to explore Dutch’s odd interest in ‘younger women’ that he has in the game. It’s short because it’s gross and I don't ship them, just wanted to explore a dynamic.

Dutch is a man of morals. At least he likes to think so. He’s good to people that he should be. It’s not like he’s raped the boy. Hosea makes it sound like that sometimes. Hosea always blows these things out of proportion. What’s a little affection between father figure and son? It’s not like Arthur has ever asked him to stop. He’s seventeen now, if he didn’t want it he’d say something.

Which is why Dutch still puts his hand on Arthur’s thigh when they sit together, despite the shouting match he had with Hosea about these things the night before. Arthur doesn’t feel tense, he seems as relaxed as ever. He doesn’t flinch when Dutch squeezes lightly, his fingers occasionally brushing a more intimate space. Arthur doesn’t say a word. Hosea would say that Arthur is scared to stand up to Dutch, but Dutch finds that ridiculous. Arthur’s a competent boy, a brave outlaw by now, he wouldn’t be such a coward.

So Dutch carries on, putting his arm around Arthur to hold him a little closer. His hand plays with the boys grown out hair as he thinks about Hosea’s words. If he were here, he’d be glaring and yelling. It’s just some affection, there’s nothing wrong with it. Arthur even cuddles into him a little, closing his eyes and getting comfortable against Dutch’s chest. Dutch leans down, kissing Arthur’s head. He’s a good kid. He’ll be a man in just a few months. Maybe Hosea will shut up about it then and let Dutch do what he wants.

It’s not that he hasn’t thought about that, intimacy. He has, but he knows it’s a firm line. He wouldn’t cross that. He had touched Arthur that way, even got him off through rough jeans, but that’s different. He’s only ever thought about seeing Arthur bare in some of his weaker moments. He’d never do it. At least not until Arthur’s old enough.

[astromechs]

What's one line/small section of your work that you are incredibly proud of/the most proud of and why? <3

this was actually really tough, but since i did reread it last night, i'll give you the following excerpt from this fic (which is titled in my docs as "kestrel and keef lol", aka the au where cassian and jyn had a different first meeting, five years prior to rogue one):

It’s there, in that moment she can finally inhabit, that she notices a bruise on his face for the first time, just above the swell of his cheek. By the look of it, it isn’t fresh; it’s several days old at least, or a week, or maybe more. Whatever had done that wouldn’t have been worse than getting shot, no, but it had to have been painful. She thinks: he’s like her, isn’t he? Taking pain on top of pain, gritting teeth through it, shouldering it all alone, because in this fucking galaxy, that’s the only choice available to anyone who isn’t privileged, lucky, or selling away pieces of their soul. That’s just the way it fucking is. But maybe, for a moment — Almost as if it’s acting on its own, without her brain’s involvement, her hand reaches out, lightly ghosting fingers over the purpling skin of the bruise. The sharp breath he sucks in is audible, and for a second, he visibly tenses — but then his exhale is slow, and he relaxes, markedly more than she’s seen him do in the short time that she’s known him. (If she can, really, call this knowing.) Her touch, then, becomes more certain, with her whole palm flattening, gently, against his face and resting there, her thumb tracing the line of his jaw. That one simple motion locks them into a space, an orbit that neither are making a move to escape. Her heart is racing now, and her breath is caught, but she’s hardly paying attention to any of that; it’s as if the man in front of her is the center of her own personal universe, holding it all steadier than she’d ever thought possible. She doesn’t know who first definitively closes what’s left of the distance between them — or if it’s both of them, or if it’s neither, tethered along by gravity — but their lips meet in the middle, a soft collision.

and, like... i probably have passages that are better written than this on a technical level, but i remember when i was writing this, and it was this specific part that took the whole story to a place i wasn't really expecting? but i really liked the tentative but profound tenderness of this, how such a small thing meant so much to two isolated people who both hadn't had much in the way of meaningful connections in a while, and it's like... idk man. i really liked that story a lot.

[pinkkittysaw]

new post this weekend hopefully!!! ^_^

[hwajin]

hello hello would anyone be pissed if i didn't write that last kinktober fic </3

[lovemeafterhrs]

guys.. guys.. tokyo ghoul! au megumi or next door neighbor! megumi im at a crossroads