#under the guise of helping you understand sex

[poppy-metal]

Oh Poppy what do you think woldve happened after the tribbing/trash can kicking heart break incident?? What would’ve gone through Jordan’s mind for the following weeks and how would they have started to interact?

under a cut because i let my fingers fly

no because its definitely a turning point in your relationship, because how do you come back from that? jordan's been cruel to you many times before but this takes the cake. i mean, this is your body after all, its not just an instrument they can strum. you've learned by then, a little by being around them so much, what gets under their skin. so you ignore them after that. even though you're burning up inside and you want to scream and yell at them for being so careless with your feelings, want to shake them and tell them you're sorry they've had to work so hard and for so long with no acknowledgement from their parents or their peers, you know it must suck and be lonely and you know how high they've built their walls to keep from getting hurt, but its no excuse. its no excuse to hurt you that way, or to treat you like the enemy when you've done nothing but be their biggest ally. you suck it all up and tuck it deep and just go through the motions of practice, you don't meet jordans eye or talk to them at all.

for jordans part, its torture. they're already wrapped in guilt, but also a sick sense of satisfaction. satisfaction at being the first to be between your legs and make you feel like that - and as a woman, no less. they'd gotten to feel that slick heat between your legs and finally make you feel half of what they felt everyday around you, the heat, the frenzy, the passion. but they hate themselves because jordan knows they're a cunt. an asshole. they're not unaware of the kind of person they are. you dont grow claws like theirs and not realize they're there. and they feel like they stole something from you, something that probably should have gone to someone better. but then again, why shouldn't they have taken what they wanted? its half your fault anyway, for forcing this desire on them.

still, they dont expect you to ignore them. they'd been prepared for your simpering eyes, your frowns and your trembling lips and your betrayed gaze. they'd been prepared to brush you off, but you're the one doing the brushing. jordan li has never been brushed off a day in their life, not since their parents, they've made sure of that, because they fucking hate the feeling. makes it feel like there are ants under their skin. itchy and twitchy and fucking irritating and distracting.

you're not supposed to be mad at them.

"leave me alone, jordan" you tell them cooly, when they corner you later, you drain a bottle of water and jordan watches the way your throat works, lip curled because you're wearing one of their fucking hickeys on your neck and you have the audacity to act like you're too busy to talk to them.

"what the fuck is your problem," they step into your space. one hand coming up to grip your arm to stop you from taking another sip. you chance a glance at them and see their glare. dark eyes like two onyx flames. "kinda hard to do a duet performance when your partner is on the other side of the fucking studio all day."

you want to shake out of their grip but think that would give away too much emotion. so you just shrug, even if goosebumps are dancing across your skin at them being so close. "there are some solo scenes that dont require us to work together. think im gonna focus on those this week."

their jaw works, and you try hard not to think about their lips and how they'd felt on your skin. your neck, your throat, parting to tell you dirty things like how good you felt.

"dont fuck with me, freshmen. is this about last weekend?"

its a struggle not to react to the mere acknowledgement of the act that took place. when you finally look at them, their eyes flit over your face, like they're trying to gauge your reaction, taking in every feature of your face like they'd been starved of it, and you realize this is the first you've looked at them head on since that night.

they're so beautiful. it hurts.

you look away, "last weekend?"

playing dumb never worked with jordan. you should have known they wouldn't let it slide, even now.

"when i fucked you -"

"that wasn't sex," you protest meekly. not that you're an expert, far from it, in fact. but sex as far as you knew from books and movies had always required penatration, and nothing had gone - inside you.

jordan snorts. they step closer and now your back is against the full length mirrors that line the studio walls. they tower over you in this form, masculine energy pouring from them and making your mouth water. they always smell so good, something sharp and crisp, that made you want to lean into them.

"is that what you've been telling yourself all week? that it didn't matter because i didn't fuck you with my cock?"

you hate how the crude words make you flush, hate that you can't just not react and stay stoic like they seem to be able to. except, well, they aren't acting very stoic today you suppose. in fact, you notice their chest rising and falling inches from your own heaving chest. their pecs straining against the tight black nylon of their costume. that stupid fucking pearl chain necklace nestled where it always is.

"dont - we dont need to talk about it-"

one hand comes up next to your head against the glass, half trapping you. you crane your neck up to meet their eyes, a mistake, because of how intensely they're looking down at you. like you're prey all over again.

"i thought we shoulnd't, but now im realizing some things got lost in translation," they say softly, their other hand coming up to twine a strand of your hair that had fallen from your bun around their finger. "sex can be alot of things, freshie, not all of it means i have to be inside you, though-" they rub the strand between their fingers, their knuckle just barely skimming the skin of your clavicle, "- i've definitely thought of splitting you open on my cock."

heat blooms everywhere. across your body, in your stomach, pooling between your thighs.

"jordan," you hiss, your facade finally cracking. your wide eyes pleading with them, for you dont know what. for them to stop, for them to keep going. all of it and none of it. "i thought this is what you wanted - i, you left - im trying - im trying to let it go."

"yeah, i know. and i should let you." for once they sound sincere. almost remorseful. they grip your chin with their fingers, tild your head up. you watch some of their hair fall across their forehead and you want to push it back for them but you're frozen. "if i was a good person i would. but im not - im not a good person."

their hand next to your head slips down, until they grab your hand, interlacing your fingers with theirs. you feel the metal of their rings press into your skin and you cant pull away, even if you wanted to.

"you can't ignore me like that again."

you feel some spark come back to you, "you deserved it. after - after what you did -"

"but it wasn't sex right?"

you fluster, unsure now, "i - we - it was just - "

"its okay, sweetheart." you fumble immediately, the petname washing over you like a warm wave. a cotton candy cloud floating you to the sky. why should you be angry? "you obviously have alot to learn. how sex works between two women, first of all."

what are words anymore.

they grin then, and it feels like trouble, like the start to a whole new chapter of problems and heartache and thrills and pleasure.

"you're gonna come home with me tonight. and after i pop that cherry of yours with my cunt, you can tell me if you still feel like a virgin."

[swordgrace]

𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.

༺ aemond targaryen x fem!reader.

synopsis: in aemond targaryen’s eyes, you have far exceeded anything that he could’ve imagined. during a moment of solace, you indulge in the prince’s growing affections.

———————————————————————————

༺ FORMAT: one-shot — not requested.

༺ WORD COUNT: 7.1K.

༺ WARNINGS: SMUT, oral sex (f!receiving), p in v sex (unprotected), multiple positions, biting, scratching, switch!aemond, fingering (f!receiving), groping, lots of kissing, hair pulling, vulnerable aemond, melancholy aftercare, slight power imbalance, possessive aemond, talk of insecurities, begging, etc.

༺ AUTHOR’S NOTE: finally ,,, an aemond fic! I am currently looking for requests for this account, and hopefully this is a good showcase in terms of getting people interested! This was so fun to write and helped me get into the Aemond headspace, I so look forward to sharing more of my work with all of you!

𝐃𝐔𝐒𝐊 𝐛𝐥𝐚��𝐤𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐝 the skies over King’s Landing, bringing with it a sense of wariness and discomfort. Rumors and whispers grew of an approaching war between Rhaenyra Targaryen and King Aegon Targaryen — a war between kin that would surely plunge the realm into a great darkness.

Bloodshed and the mere thought of violence caused you to shiver, goosebumps prickling along the length of your spine. The evening was a touch colder, the air bitter and misty with the first inklings of a nighttime deluge. Raindrops smashed into the courtyard, against the castle walls in a steady sheet.

Sworn to serve Lady Alicent Hightower, the dowager Queen, she had dismissed you quite suddenly, citing that she preferred to be left alone this evening. You found it intriguing that Ser Criston Cole so vigilantly guarded the former Queen’s chambers with wandering eyes, but it was none of your business.

The halls of the Red Keep were warm with the glow of torchlight amongst the illumination of the moon, clouds bringing down rain and the low rumble of thunder. You were prepared to make the venture down to the Servant’s Quarters, until you were stopped by a guard somewhere down the corridor.

“My Lady,” One of the Kingsguard, Ser Cargyll, addressed you nobly, even if you were just a handmaiden. “The Prince Aemond is searching for you. He is requesting your presence.”

Prince Aemond — a name not unfamiliar to you.

You felt the subtle hitch within the depths of your throat at the mention of Aemond Targaryen. The Prince was rather acquainted with you, in ways that many would consider uncouth and sinful, but it was a budding relationship. If anything, you found him to be a being of mystique and repression, in your experience.

Under the guise of mere duty, you nodded, curtsying before Ser Cargyll. “Thank you, Ser. I will make my way to his chambers.” You kept your voice hushed, ensuring an air of respect for those who slumbered within the Keep’s walls.

Carrying bundles of fresh linens within your arms, you made your way to the Prince’s quarters, a path that you were somewhat familiar with. Your encounters with Aemond weren’t often, but whenever they did occur, it filled you with a certain thrill and exhilaration. You never imagined yourself to be desirable, the object of a Prince’s infatuations, yet here you were.

A sharp clap of thunder caused you to gasp, nearly losing your footing as you traversed through the darkened corridors, passing by the occasional fellow servant or patrolling knight. Something about this night felt unusual — as if there was an ominous presence lingering around the corner.

Thunderstorms had a horrible habit of making you incredibly paranoid — tonight was no different, it seemed. With a deliberate pace, you ascended the grand flight of steps toward Aemond’s chambers, noticing the lack of protection outside. The Prince wasn’t fond of being hovered over, a notion that you could understand.

The set of ornate, mahogany doors were equipped with iron knobs fashioned into the heads of dragons — quite fitting, considering his heritage. You knocked thrice, stepping back as you waited for the Prince himself, or his summons.

With bated breath, you wrung your digits into the silk and linens clutched within your arms, awaiting the Prince to allow you inside. The suspense was nearly unbearable — sometimes he called you inside, and other times, he greeted you himself with a sly curl of his mouth and that glittering, violet eye of his.

To your delight, the door creaked open, groaning in protest as Aemond stood within the gap, regal and svelte in his leather tunic and fine regalia. His hand perched along the edge of the door, lips tilting into that familiar countenance of his — cunning yet tinged with faint hints of amusement.

“My Lady,” Aemond’s voice was a lull, like the purr of a great cat as he beckoned you inside. He cared little for prying eyes, allowing you to step into the warmth of his open chambers before he latched the door behind him. “You came rather swiftly.” He stated — a mere observation, but it was most accurate.

“Is this not an urgent matter?” To keep appearances, you sometimes asked redundant questions — but Aemond enjoyed them nonetheless. He let out a brief hum, violet hue raking over you as it had several times before. There was something reverent there, a silent appreciation that happened to scream if someone looked close enough.

With a brief hum of amusement, Aemond ogled you, head canting slightly to one side. Blackfyre sat soundly atop his hip, bound in the finest sheath and belt that hung atop his narrow waist. “I suppose not,” He reached out, gently swiping his fingers across your jaw. “I merely wanted to see you.”

Warmth fluttered within your breast, spreading like ivy across the rest of your body. The bulk of the heat settled within your features as you struggled to maintain your composure. “And I you, my Prince.” It was enough to make Aemond’s stare sparkle. “Any word on what will come of the growing conflict?”

Aemond stepped toward the large table, scattered in maps and scrolls, the largest of it being a cartographic description of Westeros. Coins were scattered atop it, meant to resemble garrisons of their forces. “Not yet.” He replied, circling the table before he looked at you. “It is hard to plan for a war that you’ve no counsel in.”

From what Aemond had told you during previous trysts, he was not on the small council — and his brother, the King, seemed more content on drinking and letting others run his kingdom for him. A piece of Aemond spited Aegon for this, for his lack of propriety and sense of duty.

The Prince’s woes weren’t unfamiliar to you. In fact, he had placed his head within your lap and recounted the multitude of misfortunes that had befallen him on many occasions before he had any desire to touch you. Perhaps it was this gesture that had given your budding relationship such a firm foundation.

War was on the horizon, and Aegon hadn’t the slightest clue of what to do — which left Aemond to stew and plot away, to strategize where there wasn’t any inkling of it. It would always fall upon him, the more responsible sibling.

You trailed after him, curious to see such a large map of the continent. If anything, you were more perplexed by the different kingdoms and sigils on coins than the war. “You mean to strategize without the King?” You inquired, noticing the scoff that emerged from Aemond.

“It is nothing new. I only wish to serve the King and my house.” He replied, expression becoming pensive before he sank down into the cushioned armchair, the one placed before his sea of maps and books. Candles danced atop the table, listless and bright.

Aemond was a learned individual, with a thirst for books and tomes, alongside the blade. You admired his desire for more, his desire for knowledge. There was a stark duality to Aemond that you had caught glimpses of during the course of your endeavors — from sharp and cold, like steel, to a hint of warmth.

The Prince’s chambers were spacious, surrounded by an ocean of quiet, with a high terrace and an open wall. You watched as the rain fell, providing a gentle ambiance to your surroundings. A flash of lightning split the sky, and the thunderous gloom of the night raged on.

With a soft exhale, you approached the terrace, lined in a thick bannister and a row of columns. If you extended your hand out far enough, you could catch the rain, feeling the chill of the droplets glide across your palm. It was soothing, enough to ease the heat that had made permanent residence within your skin.

In silent rapture, Aemond watched you carefully, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. The glow of moonlight framed your features in silver, accompanied by the twinge of orange — it made you look like a goddess, a beauty incarnate standing before him. His fingers tensed into the arm of his chair, desire beginning to fester inside of him.

Initially, he thought little of you — the lowborn girl that dutifully served his mother, yet the night you’d found him strewn about in his quarters, wounded and wistful, he’d changed his mind. Aemond fell swiftly, and he fell hard — many nights were spent with you in his bed, his head within your lap. It inevitably transformed into desire and the first blossoming of affection.

“Thunderstorms used to terrify me as a child,” You broke the silence, recoiling until your palm was pressed close to your chest. “Now, they seem to make everything ominous, as if there is a lingering dread.” You let out a chuckle, seemingly embarrassed. “It isn’t much different than being afraid.”

Aemond tucked a hand beneath his chin, leaning some of his weight against it as he listened to you. “What do you fear, my Lady?” He questioned, as if attempting to pick you apart, crawl beneath your flesh. You enticed him, evoked a sense of intrigue that he seldom felt in the presence of noble women.

A rather heavy question, but you decided to answer honestly, depositing the stack of linens onto the lounge in front of you. “Being locked away in a cage, perhaps the darkness.” You trailed off. “War.” You grimaced, gaze flickering toward the map on his table yet again.

You always feared war more than anything — it always brought worse things with it. Bloodshed, famine, death, the feeling of no sanctuary or peace.

With a soft huff, Aemond’s violet eye flickered away from you and to his map, surveying his growing plan for any imperfections. He remained quiet for a moment, and decided that he had little desire to talk to you on the topic of war — not when there were plenty of other things he could do.

“War is inevitable, like so many other things in life,” Aemond’s voice carried an indiscernible edge to it. After a brief pause, he continued. “I would keep you safe.” Sometimes, you had difficulty detecting sincerity with the Prince, but you could see it now, even if it was subtle.

If it was meant to be a flattering or sentimental statement, it happened to work, prompting you to dip your head. Sheepishness settled into your features, causing you to tether your hands together. “You honor me, my Prince. I did not know that the life of a handmaiden meant something to you.”

At last, his head angled toward you, lilac hue dancing with light as he leaned back within his chair, the wood groaning in protest. “Come here.” He waved you forward with a flick of his fingers, desiring to feel your warmth, be close to you. Aemond’s lust for you was subtle, but when it sparked to life, it burned like a dragon’s fire.

Your heartbeat fluttered like the wings of a bird, stirring beneath your breast as you obeyed the Prince’s command. Stepping closer, you felt Aemond’s hand trace the swell of your hip, coaxing you into his lap. Without a word, he rested his cheek against your sternum, feeling your fingers rake through his silken tresses.

“Your life is worth a great deal.” Aemond stated, breath fanning out across your collarbone. The Prince savored the sensation of your soft flesh beneath him, heart loud enough to ring within his ears as he pressed close to your chest. Wordlessly, he planted a kiss against the column of your throat.

A shiver rolled down your spine, a sensation that left you aching for more. You never imagined yourself becoming the object of the Prince’s affections, enough for him to state that your life had meaning beyond the station of a servant. “Then it is a mutual feeling.” You uttered, nails lightly scraping against the nape of his neck.

Aemond had often been deprived of affection — even in his dealings with whores, it was originally Aegon’s design, his will enforced. There was no shared connection with a woman seeking coin and a boy, barely thirteen. He preferred you above all else, warm and tender within his grasp, with no desire to use him to further your station.

He used to believe that the only solace he could find was in himself — until he began seeking you out.

What originally began as an arrangement of convenience, purely lust and instinct, had now spiraled into something more. He shared his past with you, treated you to the inner machinations of his splintered family, and in rare instances, became quite vulnerable. Sentiments be damned, Aemond was beginning to feel affectionate towards you.

The growing connection he shared with you, albeit unorthodox and unexpected, outweighed any previous experience he had. You were his — a precious creature that he intended on savoring forever, if he could. Not many would approve of his hunger for a lowborn girl, but Aemond cared little for it.

Above all, known or unknown, he wanted your love.

Aemond’s lilac eye drifted to your visage, drinking you in as he had many times before. The way you cradled his skull within your hand, your other palm planted firmly against his chest — it was intoxicating. He sank closer, finding comfort in your warmth.

He listened to your heart — the way it excitedly galloped for him, pounded within his ear like the deep lull of a drum. The Prince kissed your collarbone, shifting some of your robes away to reveal the soft expanse of your skin. Perhaps, he hadn’t made it known, but you belonged to him — it would stay that way.

A slight chill caused you to press closer, seeking the warmth of the Dragon Prince. Rain continued to pour outside, with thunder rattling the black, cloudy skies, as powerful as a dragon’s cry. Your hand found his shoulder, digits gently massaging into the broad, sinewy muscle of his clothed shoulder.

The sharp ridge of his nose brushed along your neck, lips following suit as he planted several deliberate kisses against your jugular; underneath your jaw. “Cold?” Aemond inquired, able to feel the icy bite of your flesh as it brushed against his. He felt you shudder — but he wondered if that was from something else.

“Slightly, my Prince.” You confessed, though your body’s physical responses were from his lips, in-tandem with the misty chill from the thunderstorm. The flicker of candlelight danced across his features — narrow and defined, beautiful beyond comparison.

“Hm,” Aemond hummed, dragging his lips around the curve of your jawline, pressing another kiss beneath your ear. His scent filled your nose — spiced herbs, smoke and leather, intermingled with that of a dragon. “Shall I remedy this misfortune?” He uttered, his voice crackling with desire.

He nearly smirked at the sound of your breath hitching within your throat — a delicious response to his shameless flirtation. Aemond’s hand crawled along the length of your leg, grabbing at the end of your robes before slipping underneath. His narrow digits danced along your calf, before finding the pliant meat of your thigh.

“Aemond,” You whispered, shifting within his lap as the Prince continued to kiss your neck. The garment you wore was shoddy and somewhat ill-fitting, and you longed to have it removed. You pressed a kiss against his brow, the one that had the beginnings of a scar. “Please.”

The sensation of your lips against his scar nearly drove him into a frenzy — it did the last time you coupled. Aemond let out a brief huff, detaching his mouth from your throat as he hungrily sought your lips. The kiss was overflowing with desire, his hand slithering against your inner thigh.

His slender digits found the apex between your thighs, swiping over the slick heat of your cunt. It was feather-light and tantalizing, meant to make you squirm, a promise of more to come throughout your night together. You whimpered, feeling his thumb ghost around your clit, splitting past your folds.

You reciprocated the kiss with a flurry of passion, tilting your hips forward toward Aemond’s hand. The playful curve of his mouth was tangible as you kissed him again, reaching to cup his face. The pad of your thumb traced along his cheekbone, feeling his teeth graze along your lower lip.

Aemond shivered beneath your palm, finding the sensation of it to be foreign, yet comforting all the same. He hadn’t removed his eyepatch before, during your previous trysts — the thought of you seeing it somewhat unnerved him. It was often used for intimidation, to terrify others into subservience, but it wasn’t like that with you.

As you pulled your head back just slightly, you pressed a tender kiss against Aemond’s jaw, and then against his cheek — another secured itself atop his eyepatch. You felt the Prince’s breath hitch, a subtle noise that left you wanting more.

His hand stilled between your legs, the other holding just underneath your breast. “It would be unwise to remove it.” Aemond uttered, voice as smooth as silk, and just as tantalizing. There was something forlorn about him, as if he were afraid of you glimpsing upon his face.

“I would never insist upon it, Aemond. Just know that I would never pass judgment,” You replied, tucking several strands of pale, silky hair aside. “You are still just as handsome, just as perfect.” Your soft-spoken reassurance made him flustered, yet he was unwilling to reveal that side of himself.

Admittedly, he considered taking it off then, but he decided against it, pressing a kiss to the inside of your wrist. Your hand drifted to the front of his tunic, lined in an impressive array of metallic buttons, bearing the Targaryen sigil. Aemond found your sentiments to be sweet — just like the rest of you.

Wordlessly, the one-eyed Prince coaxed you to your feet, bringing you toward the roaring hearth, beside the light of a crackling fire. The ground beneath you was covered in the layered pelts of various game, from stags to the thick hide of a bear, cushioned enough to provide a safe landing for the both of you.

Aemond towered over you, svelte and broad-shouldered, hand coming to cup your chin as he kissed you. It was slow and unusually sweet, but much to your disappointment, it was short-lived. His hands moved to the front of your robes, tugging at the rugged laces to loosen the bodice.

He watched you hawkishly, enraptured as the both of you maneuvered the shoddy fabric aside. You pulled it over your head, tossing the garment somewhere behind you. It landed on the stone floor with an unceremonious thud, leaving you bare before the Prince.

It was an exchange, one that Aemond silently complied with as he peeled aside his own tunic, lips twitching into a smirk as you pushed away the leather and fine linen of his undershirt. He was all sinewy muscle and narrow limbs, with a pale musculature that seemed to glow whenever the light touched it.

The both of you gazed at one another, your breathing significantly more labored than his own. Your excitement was palpable, the anticipation stirring within your stomach as arousal pooled between your legs. Aemond hungrily consumed your mouth in a blistering kiss, hands grabbing at your hips and chest.

You reached for his shoulders, arms tossing themselves around the back of his neck, digits raking through his hair. Aemond’s tongue greedily slipped past your parted lips, allowing you to taste him. A low hum of approval rumbled within his throat as you submitted to him, chest blossoming with warmth.

It was all tongue and teeth and want — a dance that finally gave way to carnal desire and primitive instincts. You felt Aemond’s hand grope at your haunch, feeling your pliant flesh as he nipped at your lower lip. The flame of desire glistened within his lilac hue.

“Lie down,” Aemond uttered, his voice becoming a touch gravelly, saturated with lust. He watched as you obeyed, sinking down onto the furs with a flustered expression. He stood over you, reveling in the sight of your body, kissed by fire, legs pulled up at the knee. “You are perfect.”

Perfect — you shuddered, stomach churning with liquid heat as you propped yourself back upon your elbows, palms idly running across the soft furs. Aemond sank down, pressing a hot, needy kiss to your lips before he knelt between your thighs, mouth hungrily returning to your throat.

“Aemond,” You moaned, the noise soft and simpering as he assaulted your neck in passionate kisses. Teeth and tongue worked together, leaving behind a handful of marks, some glaringly obvious. He continued his descent, kissing your collarbone, and then your breast. “Please keep going.” A breathy whine left you, then.

His lips twitched into a smirk as he planted a series of hot kisses around your breast, the other palm preoccupied with groping and kneading into the soft flesh there. Aemond felt your body arch into him, knees squeezing at his narrow hips.

With a stroke of his tongue, the Prince began to suck at the peak of your breast, nose brushing along your sternum. The heat from the flame crawled across your body, leaving you feverishly hot. Aemond’s actions did little to soothe it, igniting the fire within your belly.

Your hands flew toward his crown of pale tresses, digits digging in toward the nape of his neck. The furs brushed against your back as you reclined, stealing glimpses at Aemond, who methodically and reverently worked his way along your body.

“Ao sytilībagon naejot nyke,” Aemond purred, sinking his teeth into the sensitive flesh below your breast, as if to ensure his point was made. That singular lilac hue caught your heady gaze, prompting him to continue his descent. He abandoned your breast with a lasting kiss, mouth traveling along your stomach and hips. “Ñuhon.”

Listening to Aemond’s enchanting High Valyrian made you shudder, allowing it to encompass you. His voice was nothing more than a lascivious purr, meant to entice and tempt you — you were beyond elated to oblige. You watched with doe-like eyes as Aemond kissed your waist, and then your thighs.

His incendiary stare never faltered, and as he pushed his shoulders between your legs, he held it throughout. Aemond listened to the delicious hitch within your throat, the way you preemptively curled your nails into his shoulders — it was intoxicating.

In an unexpected maneuver, Aemond gingerly abandoned the fine leather of his eyepatch, revealing the glistening, sapphire eye, marred-over with an age-old scar. You were dazzled, perplexed by his beauty and the vibrant gleam of the jewel that was permanently socketed into his eye.

As a display of reassurance, your fingers crept from his shoulder to his face, gingerly tracing around his countenance, from eyebrow to cheekbone. Aemond’s subtle exhale of delight signaled his approval, and without warning, he raked his tongue across your cunt.

Your lips fell apart, unable to smother the pleasured whine that escaped you. His tongue raked hot embers across your aching core, delivering a series of deliberate strokes that were sure to make you squirm. Aemond preferred to savor you, consuming every drop of your nectar as if it were the finest of wines.

Those dextrous, spindly hands of his found the pliant flesh of your thighs, hooking underneath to provide a place of rest for your legs. He squeezed slightly, signaling his presence there as he pressed forward. His mouth greedily lapped at your cunt, gliding from the hood of your clit to your entrance.

“Aemond!” A wanton moan tore past your lips, back beginning to arch into his ministrations. The Prince slowed, sharp nose brushing against your mouth as he dipped forward, tongue briefly pushing inside of you. The subtle sensation made you whine, nails dragging themselves across his shoulder.

You were perfect — flesh velveteen beneath his palms, physique begging for more, your pleasure coming to fruition. You were at his mercy, but fortunately, Aemond was feeling most gracious this evening. The echo of the thunderstorm shook the walls a time or two, but it all became atmospheric, simply background noise.

With one hand fisted within his platinum tresses, the other scratched haplessly at his shoulder, nails leaving behind reddish crescents as he flicked his tongue across your clit. The sensation was fleeting, but he sought to drag it out, lips greedily pursing around the pearl of your cunt.

Another breathy moan left you, stomach pooling with a rush of molten heat. It oozed between your legs as your arousal fell upon the Prince’s tongue, much to his delight. He did not waste a drop, mouth traveling wherever he pleased, lapping at every inch of your cunt.

His throat echoed with a low growl, hands grabbing at your thighs. He traced his tongue around your clit, teasing you with feather-light jolts of bliss. You let out a whine, occasionally writhing atop the furs, head lolled back in a display of pure ecstasy.

Aemond’s subtle groan of delight reverberated throughout him whenever you tugged on his tresses, forcing him further into the warm embrace between your thighs. He pressed a string of kisses along your clit, as if he were worshiping you. He enjoyed your greed — if anything, he wanted to indulge you.

The warm lick of the hearth danced across your flesh, seeping into your very bones. Perspiration dotted your brow, jaw tight as Aemond ogled you from between your legs, like a svelte predator, poised for the kill. “You’re perfect, Aemond.” You exhaled, noticing the subtle twinkle in his lilac eye.

That familiar cheshire smirk of his returned; your sweetly-spoken compliments and shower of praise clearly satiated Aemond. He kissed your thigh, breath hot as it fanned across your aching core. “Flattery won’t get you anywhere.” His voice was cajoling, playful as he nipped at your hip.

You squirmed, becoming desperate for a release, one that your Prince seemed to dangle before your eyes like a carrot on a stick. “Please,” You moaned, digits tightening within his tresses, a subtle signal to continue. “Please, Aemond!” With such an urgent plea from a sweet mouth, Aemond couldn’t resist you.

It seemed that begging would get you places — Aemond thoroughly savored every second of it. Your lust mirrored his own, perhaps subdued, but it was a raging desire nonetheless. He placed another string of kisses against your inner thighs, gazing at you with an incendiary fondness.

Sluggishly, he descended to your cunt once more, dragging the flat of his tongue along your slit in one broad stroke. With a shiver, your hips rolled forward, eased into submission by Aemond’s hands, which happened to lock you into place as he swarmed forward.

He drank you in, tongue greedily flicking between your weeping core and clit, until he began to apply that same pressure as before. His thin lips pursed around the pearl of your cunt, suckling on the clutch of sensitive nerves until it drove you mad, back arching from the furs.

By the Seven, the things Aemond did to you.

There was a fervor in his ministrations, a ravenous hunger that threatened to tear you asunder. His tongue lapped at your core, interchanging with those brief moments of his lips latched around your clit. You whimpered, thighs pressing on either side of his head.

“Aemond,” You sighed with passion, fisting his silky tresses until you tugged him closer, burying his face within the warmth of your cunt. Aemond didn’t seem to mind, treating you with another barrage of suckling and kisses until you were spent. “Fuck.”

Your unholy mouth made Aemond shudder, groping at your thighs as he brought you to climax. Your release was bittersweet upon his tongue, the most sinful taste imaginable — yet he never claimed to be a pious man. He worked tirelessly to clean you up, cock aching within the confines of his leather trousers.

As you rode the pleasurable high of your release, your body unfurled, the tension within your stomach coming to a halt. A molten bliss wept between your legs, soothed by the cool lick of Aemond’s tongue. Your tryst was far from finished — you had more left to give.

In a coiled, poised fashion, Aemond moved from between your legs, prepared to untie the strings of his trousers and sink himself into you, but you stopped him, placing your palms against the plane of his chest. His musculature was lean and narrow, almost spider-like.

Aemond did not make a sound, watching as you rocked up onto your knees, thighs quivering as you eased him down onto his back — the same position you had been trapped in moments prior. He was enraptured, lilac eye glued to you as if you were heaven sent, a goddess coming to claim him for yourself.

You tossed one leg over him, thighs straddling those spindly hips of his, palms dragging across his shoulders, his chest, his abdomen — wherever you could reach. Aemond shivered beneath the intensity of your embrace, lips quirked into the ghost of a smirk, a look of perplexity to mask his desire to submit to you.

“Tell me you want this,” You whispered, nails lightly raking themselves toward his breeches, not daring to go any further until Aemond offered you his consent on the matter. He was often on top of you, domineering and incredibly energetic, but this was different — for him, and for you. “Say the word and you can have me elsewhere.”

The subtle bob of his throat wasn’t easy to spot, masked by shadow, one half of his countenance basked in the glow of the firelight. His sparkling sapphire gazed at you for an eternity, the other drifting across your supple physique, seated atop him as if you’d mounted a stallion.

His hands came to rest atop your thighs, splayed out, possessively groping your pliant flesh. “I want you,” Aemond uttered, his voice a delicious purr, an octave full of an unrestrained lust. “In whatever way that is.” He quite enjoyed this position — he liked seeing you in all of your beauty, bared before him.

With a gentle smile, your digits began to unravel the ties of his trousers, gracing across his hip bones. It was enough to make him shudder, even if the action was barely noticeable. Together, you and Aemond removed the rest of his clothing — and there he was.

He was a beautiful creature, all lanky musculature and pale flesh, stringy and angular. Everything about him was sharp, like the edge of a blade. Aemond was charming, enchanting to you whether he realized it or not. It was enough to prompt you to lean forward, pressing a string of kisses along his collarbone.

“My Prince,” You murmured into his skin, your nose nuzzling underneath the sharp slope of his jaw. You kissed him there, listening to the hitch in his throat. Aemond hummed, lips curling into something of a perplexed line as his hands wandered about your frame, ensuring to touch and caress every curve, every part of you. “My Prince.”

Aemond turned his head, the movement precise and not at all coincidental. His lips captured yours in a feverish kiss, his cock eagerly pressing against your slick cunt. You gasped, feeling the length of it tempt you as he had several times before, but this time, he grabbed your chin, ogling you with his lilac hue.

He wanted to watch your face as you sank yourself onto him, briefly grabbing his cock in order to guide it to your aching slit. The pleasure that blossomed across your countenance was a sight to behold, and you were met with the familiar tilt of his mouth, a fire smoldering within his gaze as he bucked upwards.

His cock speared you with a suddenness, causing you to moan as you adjusted yourself, rocking up onto your knees. Aemond’s palms held your thighs, and he was more than willing to do some of the work, unwilling to let you tire yourself.

It was mesmerizing to see you on top of him like this, breasts full and lovely, softly jostling with each movement. Your flesh was velveteen, pure perfection cast in the sienna glow of the hearth. The fire was dying, but the lust between you and Aemond was far from extinguished.

Your palms fell flat atop his abdomen, finding your purchase there as you began to ride him. It was sluggish and erratic, at first — you let out a soft moan whenever Aemond moved too, using his strength to meet you halfway. His hips lurched forward, cock thrusting into your cunt several times over.

A string of wanton whines and moans escaped you in droves, feeling his grasp on your thighs tighten. He was quite enamored with you, especially like this — there was no sweeter feeling. He continued to buck up into you whenever he could, sheathing himself inside of you, possessing you from below.

Aemond’s visage contorted into one of shared satisfaction, shifting from indiscernible to pleasurable. He sat up just enough to be within reach of you, hips pushing up to meet the downward fall of your body, his cock buried deep inside of you.

“Aemond,” You exhaled, tossing your arms around his shoulders, feeling one of his hands wander from your thigh to your waist, colliding into you with a passionate fervor. The pace you set was sporadic and needy, wanton with desire as you rode him, your movements attempting to temper themselves. “Kiss me.”

That breathy plea of yours was enough to make Aemond submit, lips claiming yours again in an achingly slow, heated kiss. The feeling of your tight cunt around him, slick and warm, made him groan. He was desperate to keep a rhythmic pace, if that were even possible.

Flesh collided against flesh, and you felt Aemond’s mouth pry itself away from yours, creeping toward the column of your throat. He kissed your jugular, face buried within the hollow between your neck and shoulder. You continued your conquest, rocking up and down along his length, nails digging into his shoulder.

Aemond coaxed you backward, wanting you on your back for the final moments of your coupling. You were swift, slumped back down within the furs as the Prince seized your haunch, spreading your legs by bullying himself between them as he had before.

His thrusts became a touch rougher, chasing after a release as he began to rut into you, cock reaching the threshold as he filled your cunt. Strands of pale hair fell around his face, brow glistening with a thin layer of perspiration.

You gasped, back arching as you hitched one leg around his hips, grabbing at his biceps. Aemond’s pace intensified, turning into something carnal and primal, need outweighing sensibility. Lewd noises filled his chamber — the clash of flesh, the sound of your entangled panting and groans of ecstasy.

Wordlessly, he sought your mouth, kissing you with a blistering force that made your head spin with delirium. You reciprocated with passion, feeling his tongue split past your lips, causing your breath to hitch within your throat. Your teeth snagged across his lower lip, enough to make Aemond’s throat echo with a faint growl.

Between the tangle of teeth and tongue, bodies becoming one, you rolled your hips in-tandem with Aemond’s sharp, brutal thrusts. “Don’t stop.” You whispered, wanting him to chase after his release, feeling the pleasurable pulsations between your thighs.

Aemond let out a soft grunt, cock burying itself within you over and over again, precum slathering your insides. The sensation of your cunt around him was perfection — he wanted more of you, all of you. You felt his hand snake around your throat, cupping beneath your jaw as he squeezed just enough to make you whine.

He was relentless, pounding into you with an obvious desperation that only furthered your desire for him. You gripped his shoulders, bringing yourself as close as you could, any sliver of distance beginning to dissipate, eclipsed by conjoined bodies and shared bliss.

At last, his countenance contorted into one of complete and utter pleasure, pale brows furrowed in concentration, violet-colored eye closing for just a moment. His cock throbbed inside of you, brazenly spilling himself wherever he saw fit. He pulled out halfway through, painting your thighs in a sticky sheen of glistening seed.

With a huff of finality, Aemond kissed your jaw, removing himself from you long enough to retrieve one of the many blankets draped across the foot of his bed. You watched him in rapturous silence, the way his physique moved, sinewy muscle highlighted by the flicker of a fading fire.

You cleaned yourself up, feeling Aemond return as he draped the blanket within your lap. As the hearth began to die, the chill of his chambers became evident, thunder rattling overhead, accompanied by the onslaught of a cold deluge. He rekindled the flame, wordlessly slinking down to curl next to you.

Strewn beside the fire, Aemond’s head came to rest atop your sternum, arm draped across your midsection. You held him, kept him close — it provided a sense of vulnerability that made you truly believe that he was yours. You stroked his hair, surprised that he hadn’t asked for you to leave.

“Whenever you wish for me to depart, say the word, my Prince.” You uttered, feeling him tighten his hold upon you. Aemond gazed listlessly into the flames, lilac hue half-lidded as you continued to caress the crown of his head. He didn’t want to go anywhere.

“No,” Aemond’s command was sharp and punctuated, despite the softness of his tone, something that demanded you yield to him. “I want you here.” He uttered, shivering when your other hand traced along what expanse of his spine you could reach.

Prepared to make your vigil beside Aemond, you settled, leaning into him just as he careened into you. The silence was eerily comforting, lulled by the atmospheric backdrop of the thunderstorm. You always enjoyed the aftermath — you enjoyed holding Aemond, most of all. It made you feel cherished in a different way, one that others might not have understood.

You shifted forward, burying your lips atop the pale crown of Aemond’s skull, letting it linger beyond the boundaries of chastity. He exhaled, body fully curled against yours, half of him reclining against you, the other half left to soak in the crackling warmth of the fire.

As your digits tenderly traced the muscle of his forearm, Aemond finally broke the silence once more, happy to let you stroke his hair. “I have always been different, teased and ridiculed,” He lamented, a twinge of melancholy within his voice. “Underestimated, most of all.”

It was a rare glimpse into the window of Aemond’s being — the man that craved love and affection, longed to be thought of as important. After Storm’s End, his mother had cast her frustrations and scorn down upon him, condescending and detached.

A gentle exhale escaped him as you stroked along the angular slope of his jaw, turning his head away from the fire and toward you. You looked down upon him, this man capable of ruthlessness and cunning, and saw the threads of a shattered youth — of someone who longed to feel a tender touch.

“Those who’ve attempted to slight me have always fallen so short of the mark,” Aemond uttered, a vague reference to the Velaryon boy that he had wrongfully slaughtered. He had some regrets about that one, but he hoped that it would cement his strength — he was the rider of Vhagar, and even then, it never felt like enough. “Hm.”

He seemed incredibly comfortable like this, pressed into your warmth, his cheek nestling against your collarbone. You continued to trace along the smooth plane of his musculature, allowing your digits to finally brush underneath his scarred, sapphire eye.

“You feel cold,” You hummed, noticing the way in which he absentmindedly leaned into your palm, allowing you to fully cup his face. “You are strong, Aemond — resilient and cunning. It is not my place to speak of your family, but I’ve come to know you, and I know that you are stronger than all of them.”

Bristling underneath the sweetly-spoken purr of your praises, Aemond kept his arm draped around you, the other coming to rest underneath your breast. The pad of his thumb graced your silky flesh, and he wanted to stay like this forever, if he could.

Aemond regarded you with a forlorn intensity, one that still danced with a subtle frustration, intermingled with his growing sense of possessiveness towards you. He kissed your palm, and then placed a kiss against your chest, ear pressed to the beating swell of your heart.

“I do not feel different with you,” Aemond uttered, able to listen to the little flutter within your chest, the steady gallop of your heart. “I do not want that to change.” His tone became solemn, and you simply coaxed him closer, allowing him to use the crook of your elbow as a place to rest, fingers raking through his hair.

“It won’t change, my Prince.” Your reassurance was gentle, as saccharine as the finest honey. Aemond’s hum was one of contentment as he crawled forward, head resting against your shoulder instead, allowing him to better hold onto you just as you held him.

Silence passed between you, accompanied by the brief crackle of dried tinder atop the logs, the light of burning embers dancing before you both. He kissed your jaw again, the slope of his nose brushing around your neck as he peered towards the flames.

Again, you felt your breath hitch when Aemond held tightly to you, lifting his head just enough to gaze down upon you. Your countenance was captivating — beautiful beyond compare, awestruck of his appearance. His lilac hue flickered across your face, drinking in the doe-like look you had before he hummed.

The ghost of an indiscernible expression fluttered across his features — incredibly subtle, yet present nonetheless. “I certainly hope not.” He murmured, lips molding themselves to yours, and then to the corner of your mouth before he resumed his former position.

You kissed the top of his head once more, cradling him as you would something fragile. You knew that Aemond’s insecurities resurfaced often, but now, they seemed far more prevalent. Regardless, your affection for him wouldn’t waver — you worried that he wouldn’t feel the same for you, however.

Unbeknownst to you, Aemond already possessed you, body and soul — and that was more dangerous than any blade or any dragon.

copyright @ swordgrace / please do not post or translate my works onto other platforms.

[sailortongue]

Laboratory Mishap

pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

wc: 2.9k

summary: after a lab experiment goes awry, you and spencer find yourselves in a heated situation

cw: smut, aphrodisiac/sex pollen (its not actual pollen but it fits the trope), oral (fem receiving), dubcon?, power dynamic, unprotected sex, semi-public sex

-------

Chemistry was the bane of your existence. You had never struggled so much with a subject. You had completed three general chemistry classes, two genchem labs, three organic chemistry classes, two ochem labs, and now you were taking biochem and a biochem lab. But despite all of your academic background, you still didn't have the slightest iota of understanding.

Even so, you couldn't stop yourself from looking forward to the weekly lab. You hated having to change from shorts into pants in the tiny bathroom stalls (no way in hell were you walking all the way across campus in high-humidity weather wearing pants). You hated the red line on your forehead from the goggles. You hated having to stand for 2+ hours because the lab wasn't equipped with stools. You hated chemistry in general. But you loved seeing the uber attractive GA, Spencer Reid.

More often than not, you spaced out during his pre-lab instructions. You were too busy focusing on anything about him that wasn't the jargon coming from his lips. Your poor lab partner always ended up having to re-explain the procedure. But today, that wasn't an option. Your lab partner had a wedding to attend today and, instead of being in your usual lab session, had opted to join yesterday’s lab session, leaving you all by your lonesome. Initially, you had cursed their name to hell and back for forsaking you like this, but, after Spencer offered to give you all the extra help you needed, you were suddenly exceedingly happy that your partner wasn't here.

You could see the scathing looks directed at you by some of the other girls in class. Of course you weren't the only one who had immediately taken a liking to the young GA. Only a blind person wouldn't be able to see how good looking he was. And the girls in your class were definitely not blind. You couldn't help but feel a bit smug that you would be getting his extra attention and not them.

Spencer, unbeknownst to you, was having similar thoughts and was mentally extending his gratitude to your absent lab partner. He was more than aware of the implications of coming onto a student, especially since as a GA he was in a position above you. But he wanted to be above you in the literal sense, and it was beginning to cause him to question his morals. You were the same age, so how bad could it really be? He’d noticed your frequent glances at him and reveled in the fact that you couldn't keep your eyes off of him.

During the course of the lab, Spencer was essentially your replacement lab partner. In an attempt to not show his blatant favoritism, he didn't actually guide you through the lab and instead just followed your instructions, such as pouring out chemicals into the waste bucket and washing beakers. Labs were lengthy enough with two people working together, and although Spencer would like to keep you all to himself past the time the others had already left, he remembered how miserable it was to have to stay late.

But even with his help, you still found yourself to be the last one. And not only were you the last one, but you weren’t even close to being done. Since there wasn't anyone to tell him otherwise, Spencer took pity on you and gave you far more help than he probably should have. But if he was being totally honest with himself, he just wanted an excuse to be close to you. Even though there was more than enough room at the bench, he still stood near enough that your arms occasionally brushed. Every time you handed him something he made sure his fingers met yours. And when you asked for his input about the data report? That was his favorite. His stature gave him the perfect excuse to lean down under the guise of seeing better, but he always bent down lower than he really needed to, just to have his face right next to yours and give him a front row seat to your flustered expression.

It took all of your willpower to keep your head out of the gutter. You were trying in vain to rationalize his actions. Like maybe he just didn't realize how close he was actually standing to you, and you were definitely overthinking the hand-to-hand contact, and maybe he just didn't have his contacts in and that’s why he was leaning so close. But try as you might, it wasn't enough to prevent you from getting severely distracted by the handsome GA, and getting severely distracted in a lab was typically advised against. In your flustered state, you grabbed the wrong pipette, and Spencer, just as distracted as you, didn't notice and was unable to stop the impending mistake.

Pipettes were made to measure precisely, but they don't all measure the same. So you'd royally fucked up the experiment by adding 10x the amount you were supposed to. And thanks to the stir plate the beaker was on, the solution was rapidly mixed together.

“Is it supposed to smell like that?” you asked nervously. It was a sharp, acrid smell, one you surely would have noticed earlier when your classmates were on this step.

Spencer was abruptly snapped out of his thoughts and looked at the beaker, the stir bar still spinning wildly within. He noticed the smell you were speaking of and instantly pulled you backwards. “No, no it's not. Don't breathe it in.”

He covered the lower half of his face with his elbow and grabbed the beaker from the stir plate with his other hand. He made his way to the fume hood as quickly as he could and shut the beaker within. But it was too late. You’d both inhaled the gas already, and, thanks to your biology major, you were more than aware of how sensitive the lining of the lungs is. It was literally designed to allow for gaseous exchange. Whatever you’d accidentally created was already making its way throughout your body.

As Spencer was making his way back over to you, he noticed that he was beginning to feel incredibly hot, and his breathing was becoming shallower. It was shortly after the onset of those systems that he realized his pants were progressively getting tighter in the crotch. This could not be happening. What in god’s name had you created? He was practically panting when he got back to your workbench and found you in a similar state.

You immediately began to spew apologies, but Spencer wasn't listening. No, he was far too focused on keeping his hands at his sides and not on you. He held a hand up to stop you rambling and swallowed harshly, trying to get himself under control. “It was an accident. Are you feeling okay?”

“Feel like I have a fever and my heart is beating way faster than it was a minute ago.” Your panties were also becoming wetter by the second but he didn't need to know that.

Spencer’s normally sharp mind was in a flurry. Even though you hadn't told him in words, your body betrayed the fact that you were just as aroused as he was. The subtle rubbing of your thighs together was a dead giveaway. You had your back to him, hands braced against the edge of your workbench. If Spencer was thinking straight, he never would have acted on his inappropriate thoughts; but he wasn't thinking straight. He closed the distance between the two of you, leaving no space between your bodies. He placed his hands on either side of yours, effectively caging you in his arms. Your breath hitched at the intimate position you found yourself in.

“I know you feel what I do,” he said, slightly pushing his hips into yours, his hard cock straining against its confines. “We can help each other out. Or, you could tell me to fuck off and I’ll let go as soon as you tell me to. Whatever we do or don't do, it's your choice. Just tell me what you want.” His voice was breathy and high-pitched by the end, and his self control was splintering by the second.

You adjusted your stance, the movement causing you to brush against Spencer’s front. He gasped and his hands flew to your hips, gripping them tightly and holding you in place tightly against him. “Don't-,” he panted. “Don't do that. Not until you answer me. I won't be able to stop if-”

You cut him off. “I don't want you to stop.”

And that was it. Throwing caution to the wind, Spencer spun you around to face him. “Are you sure?”

You surged forward to kiss him. Your goggles clacked together and you pulled away with a giggle. “Very sure,” you said, pulling your goggles off. Spencer followed suit.

He nodded. “Ok. Ok.” He sounded like he was trying to reassure himself that this was really happening. Despite his nearly painful erection, he tried to be as gentle as he could with you. He reconnected your lips in a tentative kiss as he wrapped his arms around your waist, but with the strange gas the reaction produced was still in the air and still wreaking havoc on both of you, it didn't stay gentle for long. What had started as a hesitant kiss devolved into a harsh collision of teeth and tongue.

Spencer’s hands migrated from your hips to your ass, pulling you flush against him. He couldn't stop the involuntary thrust of his own hips, desperately seeking friction. His mouth separated from yours as he dragged his lips down your jaw and reattached to your neck, sucking harshly and surely leaving dark marks all along the column of your throat.

He lowered his hands just enough for his fingertips to brush the back of your thighs, squeezing twice in a silent indication to jump. You tightened your grip around his shoulders to give you leverage. He hoisted you up to sit on the countertop and pushed your shirt above your breasts. You removed it entirely to give him full access. He groaned as he took in the sight of you breathless before him. “You're so pretty for me,” he praised before roughly pulling the cups of your bra down, exposing your nipples to the chill air of the lab, a stark contrast to the heat that had spread throughout your body so rapidly. He latched his lips to the newly exposed skin, his hand groping the other one. You reached behind your back to unlatch your bra and tossed it aside.

You threaded your fingers through his hair and tugged, pulling him off of your chest and back up to your lips. Both of your patiences were wearing thin, and neither of you could get the other undressed fast enough. You tugged on his tie and it soon joined your bra and shirt on the floor. You continued to unbutton his dress shirt as his eager hands groped at every part of you they could reach. When you’d finally gotten his dress shirt open, he didn't even give you the time to admire his physique and instead pulled you from the counter top to stand again.

He tugged on the waistband of your pants and pushed them down, leaving you to kick the material off of your feet. He quickly spun you around and placed a hand between your shoulder blades, urging you to bend over. You did as he wanted and felt his hands caress and grope your behind before his fingers hooked under the waistband of your panties and pulled them down just enough to expose your cunt to his hungry eyes. He groaned at the sight. “You're so wet baby. All for me.”

Spencer dropped to his knees behind you and immediately pressed his face between your legs. You squealed at the sudden contact, his tongue doing wonders for the built up need you had for him. He licked a broad stripe up your pussy before alternating between suckling and licking the sensitive flesh. Your whines and whimpers only spurred him on further, becoming more vigorous with his ministrations. The increased intensity had you gasping for breath and calling his name. “That’s right, angel. Who's making you feel this good? Hm? Whose face are you going to cum all over?”

“Yours! Please, Spencer, don't stop!”

He chuckled briefly before resuming his eager lapping at your core. He hummed against you in affirmation, pushing you closer and closer to the edge until the pleasure was just too much to bear. You came with a cry of his name, and he didn't stop until you were begging for a reprieve.

The unnatural heat that had spread throughout your body upon inhalation of the fumes was finally dissipating, leaving you with the normal flush one would expect afterwards. But Spencer was nowhere near recovered, and he had no intentions of letting you go until he was satisfied. He stood from his place on the floor and made quick work of his belt, only pushing his pants low enough to free his aching cock, dripping with precum. He stroked himself as he spoke. “We’re not done yet, angel. Not by a long shot. Not until your sweet cunt is dripping with me.”

His words sent heat racing to your core. Who needs aphrodisiac fumes when Spencer can talk to you like that.

He swiped the tip of his cock through your folds a few times before lining his tip up with your opening. He pressed forward and groaned at the sensation of you squeezing around him so deliciously. He pushed further and further until he bottomed out. His jaw fell slack in complete and utter bliss. “Oh, you feel so good, baby. Can I move? Please, please, I can’t wait any longer,” he begged. You’d let him do anything if he begged you as prettily as he did then.

You hummed in assent, and he wasted no time in pulling out until just the head of his cock remained buried in you and then thrusting back in. You let out a loud moan, already completely overwhelmed with just how good he felt inside of you. The more he thrusted, the needier he got and the more that unnatural heat in his chest smoldered. His hands gripped your hips tightly and he pulled you back to meet him with every thrust into your sopping cunt.

“I'll bet none of those silly little frat boys can make you feel like this, huh. I’ll bet they always leave you unsatisfied. But you're gonna cum for me again, right? You can do that f’me, can't you? Be my good girl and cum all over my cock.”

The sound of skin slapping against skin increased in tempo as he chased his high, wanting nothing more than to feel you clench around him as he emptied himself inside of you. You moaned shamelessly, the deep and harsh thrusts of cock almost too much to bear. You couldn't speak even if you wanted to. The only word you were capable of uttering was his name.

His grunts were turning into whines the closer he got to his impending orgasm. “Cum with me, baby. C’mon, you can do it,” he said, moving one of his hands down to rub circles on your clit. That was all it took to have you creaming around his cock, your orgasm triggering his. The moan that came from him was pure sin as he spilled himself inside your cunt, just as he had promised. He collapsed on top of you, cock softening within you as it twitched with every flutter of your walls around him. When you had both sufficiently caught your breath, he stood back upon and gently pulled himself out of you. You winced at the loss of contact, still extremely sensitive. You pushed yourself off of the workbench and turned to see Spencer tucking himself back into his pants. It was then that you realized you were stark naked in a university laboratory. You saw your panties lying near your feet and you hastily put them back on, followed shortly after by the rest of your clothing, which Spencer helped pick up from the floor where they had been unceremoniously discarded.

“Would you want to get coffee with me sometime?” Spencer asked suddenly, the words spoken so fast they nearly blended together.

You were taken aback. You had expected him to want to pretend this never happened but here was asking you on a date. You grinned, a prominent blush on your face as you accepted his offer.

He beamed, a broad smile overtaking his face. “Great! I’ll pick you up Saturday morning?”

“Yeah, sounds good. I think I can safely assume it won't be the coffee shop on campus?”

“Even though we're the same age, you're still one of my students. So until you finish this course…” he trailed off.

You grabbed his tie and pulled him closer to you until your faces were a hairsbreadth apart. “I’m completely fine with being your dirty little secret until then as long as you fuck me like that again.”

[sunniques]

saw your post and thought i’d send in a request (or just more of an idea that you can do whatever you want with)

i feel like joshua x priest kink is a pretty usual combo but i’d love to see your take on it (if you’re comfy!!)

ok so my idea: reader’s parents thinks that reader is possessed or something and hires joshua to inspect the situation. reader (very clearly not possessed) pretends to go along with it just to keep seeing joshua, come to find out that joshua isn’t as holy as he pretends to be? something like that

if you’re not comfy, totally understandable and i’ll think of another idea instead! but i would love to see your take on this if you are!!

- 🎀anon

— a priest’s guide to sacrilege

cw/tw: manipulation, sacrilege, josh is immoral af, bondage, gagging, unprotected sex, creampie

“Shh, sweetheart. This is all part of the procedure.”

Your moans are stifled by the fabric that was shoved in your mouth moments ago. Arousal drips out of your clenching pussy as long fingers slowly caress your folds. The priest—Josh—is watching you with dark eyes as you arch your back and gently tug on the restraints he insisted were necessary.

It’s all bullshit, but neither one of you would ever admit it out loud.

You’re not sure how or why your parents thought there was some sort of demon in you, but it was too late to make them think otherwise. At first it had been funny to see them be so scared of you since it gave you the freedom to do whatever you wanted. Then they got serious and brought you to some hot priest who assured them that he could help you.

That’s how you ended up in the church basement on some dingy bed, tied up and left to his mercy.

Not that you were complaining. You found the entire thing unbelievably hot.

“Such a naughty girl.” He tsks, shaking his head as he starts to undress. “So impure.”

You almost laugh since the sicko has you tied up and naked under the guise of helping you, but you only lift your hips to entice him.

“Filthy little thing.” Josh murmurs in delight, stroking his thick cock as your juices drip onto the bed.

His smirk is so hot, and you can’t get over it. If only your dumb parents knew what their beloved priest was really like. It almost makes you laugh.

“Don’t worry.” Josh says as he crawls on the bed. He slaps his cock on your pussy, gathering you slick on his dick. “I’ll make sure to fuck any demons out of you.”

Your eyes roll back when he buries himself in your pussy with one rough thrust. His groan is guttural, whispering quiet praises about how tight and wet you are. His leaking tip slams into your g spot, making you gush and leak all over his huge cock.

Lewd squelching fills the basement, the smell of sex permeating the air along with Josh’s groans and your stifled moans. He’s splitting you open deliciously, bringing you a pleasure you hadn’t felt until him. It’s almost too much, but the sexy little priest doesn’t seem to care.

“Fucking shit.” He hisses, watching how tightly your cunt grips him.

You pathetically whimper as he keeps fucking his cock into you. His movements are rough and fast, yet they’re precise. Josh smirks when you gush all over his cock, staining the length of it with your orgasm. His brutal pace doesn’t change even when he’s spilling his hot cum inside you. That’s when you learn the devious priest plans on using you until he can’t anymore.

Or until you’re no longer possessed… whichever comes first.

[kurogane2512]

Genshin women 'assisting' you during NNN

Type: Suggestive fluff (no sex, just flirting and teasing with implied sexual activity)

Can imagine any reader

Will make you lose intentionally within 3 days at max

She really said she will cooperate and support you, she really said she will be kind to you and keep her distance. But she just can't help teasing you to see your cute and flustered reactions, how you bashfully scold her for tempting you time and time again. She playfully presses her boobs into you and grinds into your thighs when you stand around her.

She will whisper in a seductive tone all sorts of things she will do once the month is over. How does she expect you to hold on after all this? No wonder you pounced on her the next time she did her usual antics, that's when you find out she was doing it intentionally simply to tease you. There's no way she could hold back herself but she didn't want to be the one to give in first so she made you do it~

LISA MINCI, YAE MIKO

Will make you lose unintentionally within a week or two

She is genuinely serious about it and promises to support you, she actually finds the whole situation quite amusing and wants to see how you do. She keeps a very reasonable distance throughout and doesn't try to work you up in any way, even her usual teasing has significantly reduced. In truth, you didn't expect her to take it so seriously. And perhaps you didn't want her to.

Now her simplest actions make you desperate. Be it a simple hug, pecks on cheek and just cuddling at night- you want more, you want to do so much more. You thought she would end up whining and complaining soon but it seems you are the one who will do that. You can't stand it anymore. She has such an effect on you; truly, how can you resist her body for so long. She is so amused by your complaining and pleading, she teases you so much about how needy you are for her but in reality, she feels so loved and will happily take care of you~

LA SIGNORA

Similarly, this woman is oblivious to her doings. Everything was going so well, both of you were doing so good. She doesn't really understand the whole concept of NNN, she finds it unhealthy that people would torture themselves this way. But of course, she promises to support you in this. She is not needy for you, she is doing rather well and spends time in other things.

But again, she doesn't realize the effect she has on you. She wanted you to be cared for so she asks what you would like to do after this is over, she suggests all kinds of dates and things to do during sex all with a straight and innocent face. And then there's the accidental touching like breast contact and rubbing.... none of this helps your case and you end up giving in. In truth, a sneaky fox had suggested her to ask you all this under the guise of care....

RAIDEN EI

Lets you last halfway then 'accidentally' tempts you

Another woman who finds the challenge amusing and promises to cooperate seriously. In addition, she herself joins in to support you and do this together. She was confident both of you will win if you do it together, and she was confident in her own ability to hold back even if you can't. She is a busy woman, she'd likely end up swarmed by work that she can barely think of sex and you aren't around to help her destress.

That's how you both last till the middle of the month at least but now it's becoming rather difficult. You catch each other staring longingly at each other, clear expression of desperation on your faces but you pretend to see nothing. Until one day, you catch her in a rather.... unexpected state. There she was touching herself in her room/office, sighing your name as her fingers plunged deep. You watched her from the door, feeling heat pool between your own thighs. You would have called her out for cheating but you are too pent-up as well.... you'd much rather go in and help her~

NINGGUANG

Will complete all the way through with no problems at all

You should have expected it to turn out this way, why did you even suggest to do this with her. She was a busy woman who rarely had sexual needs, she could easily put away her desires for the greater good and in service of her people. You accomplished nothing by doing this except torturing yourself not only for entire November but even few days into December.

You don't see her come home for days and when she does come home, she's too tired to do much so it automatically makes you suppress the need as you just want to love and care for her tired self. Honestly, she may even forget you were doing the challenge because she can't even keep track of the time. When she finally gets a reasonable vacation period, it's already December and you are dripping in desperation....

JEAN GUNNHILDR

A/n: If you guys have ideas for other characters then feel free to suggest and I'll make a pt 2!

[prettyboypistol]

Can we see some head-canons of how the mercs would react to the reader asking to join them in the shower.

Asking The Mercs to Join You in The Shower || TF2 Mercs x M!Reader 18+ MDNI

Scout

"ahahaha without me bbg?" energy every time you say you're showering. As soon as you offer to let him join you, he blushes a deep red and insists that you're weird and that he's not gay. He thinks about it though, and after about 5 minutes he goes to his room, then sneaks to the showers to ask if you were serious about your offer.

What happens: probably nothing toooooo spicy, but maybe a sloppy make out session and some heavy petting. As soon as you touch his dick he jolts back and says that's too far. You nod and apologize.

Soldier

Doesn't really understand the connotations immediately, but as soon as you offer him a blowie he's like "I AM NOT A BRIBABLE OFFICER, PRIVATE!" You assure him it's not to gain favor, it could just be a one-time thing. You just think he's very handsome and would be honored to get hot n' heavy with a superior officer.

What happens: a blowjob and you worshipping Soldier's body- maybe he gets a little rough with you, but nothing too bad since it's under the guise of a one-off hookup.

Pyro

Pyro innocently accepts and offers to wash your back in public, but as soon as you two are alone, they know your game. They push you against the wall and breathe against your neck, the mask causing a noise that envelopes your senses.

What happens: You get to see what's under the suit- well, barely- the steam obscures your vision when they unzip the pelvis zipper of their suit. Whatever is was, it felt good.

Demoman

Teases you about needing some company to shower, asking if you need help washing your back or if you just want an excuse to see him naked. When he arrives he's very pleasantly surprised to actually see you there with an intention to do more than wash his back.

What happens: probably at most a mutual handjob or a dominant Demoman giving you a reach around while you're pressed against the tile walls.

Engineer

Blushes a bright red and hides his face in his hands, waving you away and calling you crazy. He grumbles and goes to his workshop to tinker on his machines, as he usually did when he had emotions to process.

What happens: he doesn't join you initially, but comes to your room late into the night and offers to shower with you then. By the way, he built a toaster while he was busy.

Heavy

Doesn't know what to think at first when you ask, desperately wants you to mean an innuendo, but is highkey a little insecure about himself- who'd like a man in his late 40's who's got a bad case of MPB? Well, when you come onto him his bran explodes.

What Happens: Probably some kissing, maybe a little hesitant touches. Nothing too spicy but intimate enough for both of you to blush when you see each other the next day.

Medic

Very flirty, very down for the proposition. Offers to escort you to the showers himself levels of down for whatever. As soon as the waters are warm our hands are all over each other, his glasses were knocked on the floor, you are overwhelmed with pleasure and his mouth on yours.

What Happens: Probably the farthest you go with any of the mercs, straight up a great possibility that you have sex. Medic's a passionate and rather noisy lover, so everyone avoids the shower until it's obvious both of you have left- and Engie sends in his cleaning robots. Just in case.

Spy

Applauds your boldness and bravery, but there is a 50/50 chance that he declines your offer unless you're blindfolded. As much as he has a sweet affection for you, he loves his mask ever so slightly more.

What Happens: An intimate bathing routine where you're blindfolded and sat on a stool in his personal shower, you're scrubbed, massaged, and pampered with the most aromatic sensations known to man. Afterwards, you might get lucky on his bed.

Sniper

Blushes a deep red, hides his face under his hat, and mumbles about how unprofessional you're being. You two are coworkers for christ's sake! Of course he declines your offer!

What Happens: He can't get the thought of you showering out of his head. It starts messing up his shots due to distracting him so much. After the third respawn, he groans and asks you to shower with him. Nothing happens, but you both get an eyeful of each other.

[meanbossart]

So like healing isn't linear. Do you think there are times when Astarion is like "I can't do it tonight" in the middle od the deed? I do wonder what would be Drow's reaction? We know he can be overprotective. Would he, groundlessly, blame himself? I feel like in the latest chapters of ANE he made some progress with understanding Astarion.

On the other hand I feel like Astarion would be, unreasonably, angry at himself for not being able to move on and leave his past behind. "Cazador is gone, I gave myself time. Trauma, what else do you want?"

I would love to hear your opinion!

Oh yeah, absolutely there are times where he isn't feeling it. Admittedly I'm a little less interested in exploring the internal workings of healing from this kind of traumatic sexual fatigue than I am in exploring the way other people can accidentally make it about themselves, doubt your agency because of your past experiences, and continually focus on your trauma on your behalf under the guise of helping. Healing is a complex, personal experience that is practically impossible to document in a linear or clear fashion - the way other people react to it, on the other hand, is often painfully predictable.

Astarion is a grown man who wants to move on with his life. Sometimes, he probably feels overly sexual and privately needs to dwell on the guilt associated with that. Sometimes he isn't in the mood but he does it anyway for x and y reasons. Sometimes he stagnates and sometimes he tries new things that don't work, or that he regrets later. The important part is that these are decisions and "risks" he decides to take for himself. He knows that he can say no; he knows that if he says no, whatever is happening will stop. To him, that's the biggest perk about being with someone you trust - you can venture freely into the terrible and the painful and know nothing bad is actually going to happen, besides for maybe a weird-feeling type of week or a few nights of restless sleep.

Whether you think this is good or bad practice, it is what he wants to do as someone who is in a rush to enjoy things again.

DU drow is the one who is constantly concerning himself with his state of mind and his ability to make these kinds of choices. Getting into his head about whether or not Astarion feels pressured to fulfill his needs to the point where he avoids displaying any amount of sexuality around him for a time, where he himself turns Astarion's advances down not because he doesn't want to have sex - but because he doesn't trust him to make these choices in earnest. In this context, he is looking at Astarion and seeing a profoundly damaged man in need of rescue and guidance; while Astarion looks back at him wondering where this practically-weaned-yesterday doofus got the idea that he's got a radioactive dick. Once again, whether or not you believe that what Astarion is doing is healthy, the point is that DU drow has absolutely no authority in this area.

Like you pointed out, this is something that they slowly come to resolve. It will no doubt pop up as an issue again throughout their lives but the situation does improve. At the same time that Astarion will probably go through phases of dealing with his own business differently and communicate that to his partner to varying degrees of consistency or success - the important thing is that the other guy in the room stops acting like this is something he can do anything about but listen.

[vulpisnocturna]

Binding Vow - Part II

Part I here

Part III here

Read on AO3

This is part II of III :)

Warnings: kidnapping, manipulation, coercion, Stockholm Syndrome, captivity, Chrollo being a manipulative asshole, obsession, slight NSFW

Word count: 6k

The lilies in the vase by the windowsill were starting to wilt. Their petals were drooping, the stems getting darker, the vibrant white of the flowers starting to become ashen. In that way, you were like them. Wilting away in a prison you were forced to call home. 

But Chrollo never let you see them die. No, he brought you new flowers every week, along with all the other gifts he gave you. You did not know which ones were bought and which were stolen. Not that it mattered much. 

His pathetic romanticism fell on deaf ears. He could court you all he liked, but he failed to see in that brilliant brain of his that it would not work after kidnapping someone and holding them prisoners. A golden cage was still a prison, and he could not make the canary sing by locking it away, even if he used his silver tongue on it. 

Sometimes, you did not know whether he was completely oblivious or simply did not care. Every glare of yours, every time you ignored him, shouted at him or even refused to eat- he met all of your attempts at rebelling with a soft sigh and a stoic outlook, telling you he “would wait for your tantrum to quiet down to talk like adults”. Always patronising. He was always so damn condescending. 

Another month had passed since the day Chrollo had tricked you into having sex with him under the guise of letting you go free and then had drugged you and left that house with you. When you had woken up, you were in a new flat, which he told you would serve as a home for the both of you for a couple of months. 

He had reassured you that he would never harm you and that he would protect you, failing to understand you needed protection from him. He had also reminded you that the doors were all locked, and that he knew your life inside out in case you planned to do something foolish. 

The first night in this house, you had screamed your lungs out at him, fighting him, or rather, trying to hit him with all your might whilst he restrained you. In the end, he’d tied you to the bed and told you he would free you once you learnt to be civil. 

Next, you had refused to eat. That lasted until he tried to force feed you, and the humiliation of the act had made you start to eat by yourself again.

After that, you had refused to speak or even look at him. Luckily, he hadn’t tried to force himself on you, but he certainly seemed to want it. He had started to sleep in the same bed as you as soon as you had cut out the screaming and hitting, and no amount of begging had made him change his mind.

“I understand you dislike my approach, but I’m doing this to keep you safe, my love. If you can get past it, you’ll see it’s only natural that we sleep in the same bed. I love having you close to me. You are so peaceful when you sleep” he had said, stroking your upper arms as though the gesture could ever be perceived as soothing. 

You always made a point to fall asleep curled as far away from him as possible, yet, somehow, you always woke up with his arm wrapped around your waist. He was stifling.

Your best moments were the ones where he’d go away to do God knew what for a few hours, or when he would be so immersed in the book he was reading that he would not talk to you for a while. Of course, he would insist on having you sit on his lap as he read, but he had settled for letting you sit with him in the living room where you wanted, which was as far away as possible from him.

You hated to admit it, but when he left, you sometimes could not help but feel lonely. He was the only person you ever saw, the only one you talked to, the only one you could go to in order to find comfort. That fact alone was enough to make your stomach churn. 

But that was all stopping that day. You had decided that one way or another, you would escape. You were on the eighth floor of an apartment complex, but even Chrollo hadn’t been able to find a place that did not have windows. They were locked, of course, but you could break them if you used enough strength. It wasn’t your strong suit, but you had trained a little on your Hatsu to be able to do more damage than your muscles were capable of. And of course, you would get hurt, but it was all for a good cause. If you could make it out, then… then maybe he wouldn’t find you. If you were careful. 

That very day was your best bet. Chrollo had told you he would not be home for supper and had left you some food in the fridge. You packed it and filled several bottles of water, raiding the cupboards of chocolate, biscuits and fruit. You also found some gauze in the bathroom drawer, which you took with you in case you wouldn’t be able to use your Nen power straightaway. 

You had cursed your power for two whole months now, hating that you weren’t an Enhancer, that you weren’t strong or fast at all. Of course, Chrollo would still be stronger, but your chances at escaping would increase. But now, you were glad you had it: if you fell from a few stories, you would be able to heal yourself, so long as you did not die on impact.

Which was why you had gathered every single towel and sheet you could find and created a makeshift rope with tight knots. It was around ten metres, which left fifteen to twenty metres left to jump. You’d found that there was a tree underneath the window of the office, so that was where you decided to escape. 

The glass was thick, and you decided to wrap your hand in a section of your rope and punch it with all your strength. 

It took half an hour and the breaking of your knuckles, which had also split and gotten wounded, but you had managed to stay focused through the pain and heal them before you lost too much blood. 

Now, as to your escape. The window was now broken, and you did your best in creating a wide enough passage where glass would not be likely to cut you or the rope. Next, you looked down to see that no one was around. The apartment complex was situated on the side of a forest surrounding a small town, and the office happened to face the woods. You could not see anyone around.

You had around three hours to escape and get as far away from that place as possible before Chrollo came back. You had to move quickly, find out where you were and then find a way out of there. 

You breathed in, calming your thundering heart and swinging the rope out of the window after tying it to the sofa. It reached ten metres or so from the canopy of the tree beneath the window, which was not ideal, but not too bad either. You stepped on the windowsill, planted your feet and started descending. 

Ten minutes later, you had reached the end of your rope. You swallowed, the wind making your eyes sting and tear up as you looked down. Legs first. You had to either grab a branch with your hands or land on your legs. 

You jumped.

Your hand scraped against the bark, burning and shredding against it. The branch underneath you winded you as you landed on your side, but you managed to break the fall before you hit the ground.

You convulsed on the grass, nausea and cold shivers tearing through your body as you quivered, taking small breaths that had you dizzy from the pain.

Definitely broken ribs. Definitely a broken leg. 

Your trembling hand reached to your side, and you focused on your aura, feeling the pain, mending the bone, healing the damage until it felt like a dull throbbing rather than stabbing, burning agony.

Next was your leg. It took you longer than you wanted to consider to heal all of your injuries, but when you finally got up, you were okay. You could run, even though the numerous cuts on your body had made you lose quite a bit of blood and you felt lightheaded.

You started running. The feeling of hope that bloomed in your heart was quick to burst into euphoria, even though you tried not to lull yourself into false security. Running along the path in the forest felt good, freedom felt like cool breeze, autumn leaves and the faint scent of rain lingering on the ground.  

You must have run more than ten miles by the time you stopped as you got to the edge of the forest. The sun was setting on the horizon, and you wagered Chrollo would be back soon. You probably had another hour before he realised you were gone. Where could you go from here? The hills to your right looked too exposed, but so did the town to your left. He would expect you to be there. But with the amount of blood you’d lost, the fact that you’d been running for hours and the lack of shelter in the hills, you had to go to the town. Maybe you’d find a sheltered place where you could stay for a few hours, before you left again. 

But you never did get to the town. 

Because as soon as you got back on your feet and went to grab your bag, your wrists were caught behind your back in an iron grip. You knew that scent all too well. 

Your heart threatened to burst in your ribcage, and your chest heaved, your eyes widening as you writhed wildly to no avail.

‘If I were you, I would stop thrashing, darling. I am not in a gracious mood’ he murmured against your ear, voice cold, seeping into your bones like ice. You stopped moving altogether, swallowing the heavy lump in your throat.

‘Have you any idea of what that fall could have done to you? You’re covered in blood. Did you break anything in your brilliant escape?’ he continued, and you wet your lips, your temples throbbing. 

Would he kill you now? Would he simply take you back? Would he break some more bones to punish you? Tie you to the bed, or relocate you to a basement? 

‘Answer me. You do not want to make this any worse than it already is’ he said coldly, releasing you and staring at you. You knew trying to make a run for it would be useless. He would catch you in seconds. And who knew what he’d do to you. 

You were done. He’d found you immediately. There was no escaping him. 

‘My knuckles. My ribs- my leg’ you whispered, scanning his face for any clue on what might happen to you. His jaw tightened.

‘So you counted on your power to heal you, disregarding that had you broken your neck, you would not be able to heal. Not quite well-thought out’ he said, a tinge of cold fury in his voice. You ground your teeth, deciding you would go out swinging instead of listening to more of his patronising remarks. 

‘I did not have many options. I ran, because you kidnapped me. I was willing to take the risk’ you spat, and he lifted his chin, looking down at you, seemingly rigid in his posture. 

‘I must say that was a rather inventive plan. I think I might have read about a character doing the same thing in an adventure book once’ he mused, recomposing himself and disregarding your words completely.

‘You clearly cannot care for yourself, darling. Look what you've done to yourself. You are so very fragile. We have much to discuss. Of course, there will be consequences, but you should know I would never hurt you. I simply need you to listen. You can come with me now without a fuss or you can make the situation worse for yourself and risk more dire consequences for your behaviour. Your choice’ he said, looking at you, his eyes softening ever so slightly as you let out a strangled sob. 

Choice. Another choice that was already written in stone.

‘Just let me go. Let me free. Please’ you breathed, resorting to pleading in the face of defeat, hating the fact that you could feel the tears spill from your eyes. He let out a soft sigh, cupping your face and stroking your cheek. You did not know whether you wanted to spit in his face or let him comfort you for something he was guilty of. Because you were so alone, your heart was so wretchedly heavy.

‘Shh, shh. It’s alright, my love. You must be so exhausted. You need to rest. I’ve got you. I’ve got you’ he kissed your forehead, soothing your sobs, and perhaps it was desperation and exhaustion that made you cling to his shirt with trembling fingers. You let all of your tears of frustration, pain, hurt and anger out, sobbing in the arms of the one who had brought them to life. And he was so gentle as he held you. So painfully tender in the way he soothed you, stroking your hair, kissing the top of your head, holding you close to him.

Chrollo bent to pick you up in his arms, and you buried your head against him, not wanting to look at him and accept what you had just done and where he was taking you. What the consequences of your escape would be.

As the temperature started dropping, you found yourself seeking out the warmth of his body, feeling the exhaustion catch up to you quickly. You had finally stopped crying, but your head was pounding and your eyes were raw from the tears.

You saw a car at the edge of the forest, parked behind the building, in front of the tree and your makeshift rope. He opened the door and deposited you on the passenger seat, closing it behind you and getting in on the other side. He reached over and put on your seatbelt, locking the doors and staring at you.

‘Where are we going? What is going to happen to me?’ you asked, voice hoarse from all the crying. Chrollo slicked back the wayward strands of black hair that had escaped his hairstyle, regarding you with a cold expression, if not slightly laced with disappointment.

‘You saw fit to break the window of our flat. I called some people to take care of the mess there and get our stuff whilst I retrieved you. We are going to another place, this one is compromised now. As to you, my love... I do not know what punishment would fit this crime. Your sorrow and your tears have touched me, truly. But I must ensure you learn your lesson. You don’t want this to happen again, do you?’ he asked, turning the keys and starting to drive.

Did you want this to happen again? Of course not. His tone let you know that if you ever did this again, there would be Hell to pay. Who knew what he would do now, you shuddered to imagine what he might think to do if you tried to escape once again.

‘No’ you said quietly.

There was no escaping Chrollo Lucilfer. You had been stupid to think that you could have done so. Drunk on the idea of freedom. He might have said he would never harm you physically, but he hadn’t said anything of the sort about your loved ones. You had learnt that with him, the devil was in the details. He always twisted meanings and played with words like a musician would play an instrument. And there was no escaping his judgement.

Chrollo was not having a nice day. He had had to pull back a heist when Shal had informed him the museum had been tipped off, and had thought he would just get to go home and spend some needed time with his darling girl. He had seriously thought you had made vast progress in your interactions with him. In a mere month, he had managed to mellow you a lot, and even though it had irked him to put up with your foolish tantrums, he had done so patiently, knowing being less strict would eventually aid him in making you come around. You had started to talk to him again, even seemed content to sit with him in the living room to read.

He wasn’t too pleased you never took him up on the offer to sit on his lap, and sometimes, he wanted to pull you against him and hold you there, but he was a patient man, and he understood the perks of patience and strategy.

That was why he had been willing to compromise on not taking everything he wanted yet. He had put boundaries on what was non-negotiable, like sleeping in the same bed. After all, you were his. He had claimed you, given you food, shelter and protection, brought you all kinds of beautiful gifts that reminded him of you, made you feel good. He knew you liked the sex, too. You could not deny it, he remembered all too well how very precious you had looked writhing underneath him, begging and whining for him.

Nevertheless, he was waiting to do it again, simply because you were under the impression you had been tricked by him with the vow you had made, and that had upset you. Understandably so, but the fact that you hadn’t paid enough attention to his words was hardly his fault. However, if he was respectful of your body and did not force himself on you, he knew you would eventually seek him out. He could already see the slivers of your resolve shattering, and it pleased him to no end. The way you now let him kiss the top of your head, flinching less often when he drew you in for a hug or stroked your cheek. It was a chess game, and Chrollo knew he would win.

But now, you’d broken his trust. You’d disappointed him.

When he had come back home, looking for you, thinking you might be asleep or ignoring him as he called your name, and had eventually seen the window shattered and a makeshift rope made of sheets and towels, he had seen red. There was blood spatter on the glass, and the thought of you going so far as to harm yourself in order to escape him had made his stomach hot with rage and his chest tight with worry.

He had inspected the grounds underneath the tree he surmised you had used to break your fall, and he could see some blood, not enough to make you die of blood loss. Some drips had seeped into the blades of grass that led to the woods. Torn between cold fury, worry and admiration for your commendable resolve, for a moment, he had also thought you were truly so delightful. It was so sweet of you to believe you could escape.

He also knew you must have used your power to heal yourself, because he expected you to have broken at least a few bones. Therefore, you must have been lightheaded and weak. A fragile thing like you, alone in the woods, where anyone could easily harm you. He had been worried sick, ready to burn the forest to ashes.

It had taken him twenty minutes to scour the whole forest. When he had found you, you had been panting, holding onto a tree as your gaze shifted between the hills and the small town as though you were considering your course of action. So fragile, so impossibly delicate and fatigued, so oblivious to your surroundings. He hated how you put yourself in danger. Hated that you thought it would be better than being by his side.

Of course, Chrollo knew it was human nature to seek freedom, so he could not fault you for trying. But he was not pleased. You had put yourself in danger and broken his trust.

He had been ready to make you learn your lesson by confining you to a windowless bedroom, never taking his eyes off you, even pay a visit to one of your friends. However, the moment you had started to sob and clung to him, accepting his embrace, seeking him in your sorrow, he had been truly moved. You were truly so sweet in his eyes, so vulnerable, he just wished to hold you and never let you go.

Now, he was not sure what the best course of action would be. Should he be understanding, threaten what would happen if there was another attempt, and bask in your need to be comforted by him? If he happened to be too strict with you, it might halt the progress you’d just made. But if he offered himself as the only one who could soothe your worries and comfort you, then, perhaps, you would become more dependent on him. He wanted nothing more.

But things would have to move more swiftly, because his patience was starting to run out. If he was honest, as he had you back in his car, looking so meek with your tear-stained eyes and torn clothes, he had only wanted to move you to the back of the car and show you just how much he needed you. Just how much you truly liked him. Then, maybe, you would regret your actions. But he had to hold back.

He had nothing but time with you. And your attitude and outlook on your living situation was the most important thing right now. He had to change your perspective, or his work the past month would be ruined just because he had lost his temper after you made a mistake. You could still make things better.

‘Chrollo’ you murmured, wringing your hands in your lap. You rarely called him by his name. You rarely talked to him without him starting the conversation. He loved the way his name sounded on your lips.

‘Mh?’

‘What’s going to happen to me?’ you repeated, small voice haunted. He placed his hand on your thigh, stroking your skin gently as he drove through the empty street.

‘You did something quite upsetting, dearest. You know I would have never forgiven myself if something happened to you. I cannot let anyone, including you, harm you. I cannot trust you now; you understand that, don’t you?’ he asked, voice smooth. A part of him wanted to ask you what you thought a fitting punishment would be. But he did not do well with not knowing what you would say.

‘I won’t try to run again- just... please don’t hurt the people I care about. Please. I’ll do anything’ you said desperately, and Chrollo forced himself to restrain the urge to smile. Now, that was a pleasant development. He could utilise this. Could reap the benefits of your dedication.

‘My love, it pains me that you think me a monster. There would be no reason to visit your past acquaintances if this is a one-time mistake. But how can I trust your word? How can I be certain you will not try to run from me again? That you’ll be my good girl?’ he asked gently, keeping his voice as soft and calm as he could.

Human imagination was truly intriguing. How you had come to that conclusion in your mind, already deeming it a reality, and sought to find a way out of it by offering everything you had. It was truly endearing, and Chrollo had barely had to do anything. And now, if he spared your acquaintances, he would be seen as merciful. You would be grateful. Even though he hadn’t planned to kill them as of yet, deeming it counterproductive for your opinion of him. But if he utilised your fears against you, he could appear as a compassionate source of comfort to you.

‘Because... I know it’s useless. And I don’t want to be the reason they might... get hurt’ you said earnestly, your bottom lip quivering. It made you look so sweet in his eyes. So innocent and pure. Completely different from him, someone so fascinating he could never take his eyes off you.

‘I- will behave. I’ll do- whatever you want’ you whispered, almost resignedly, your shoulders sloping. Chrollo let out a soft sigh. You had no idea of the effect you had on him when you said things like that. It was all he ever wanted. And soon, he knew you would say the same words with care and tenderness in your voice.

  He parked the car in front of the skyscraper, opening the door and stepping out, and a middle-aged woman approached him, holding a pair of keys. Chrollo took them from her, spotting Shal’s antenna sticking out of her neck when she turned to head towards the glass doors. Chrollo went back to the car, opening the door and giving you his hand. You looked at him, closing your eyes briefly before you accepted his help and stood up on unsteady legs. He took his coat off, wrapping it around you. It would not do to have you walk in the lobby with your shirt and legs covered in blood.

It was long and baggy on you, and covered your whole body. He thought you looked quite sweet in it. He made sure to lead you to the door with a hand on your lower back, not trusting your balance after the injuries you had sustained and the clear exhaustion he could observe in your sluggish movements.

This time, Chrollo had asked Pakunoda and Shal to find him a place as high up as possible, so you could still watch the sky and not get any stupid ideas. The woman led you and him to a lift and pressed the button for the fiftieth floor, the penthouse. He liked to show off with a better flat, a more luxurious one, but had it been up to him, he would not have cared much, so long as it was comfortable and had everything he might need.

The woman stayed in the lift as he led you outside, to the door of your new home. He opened it, stepping inside and conjuring Bandit’s Secret to lock the door with Nen that only he could unlock. He put the keys on the bowl on the accent table by the door, because they were as useful as a pen to you if you planned to use them to open the door.

The penthouse was spacious but decorated in a way he did not mind. Cosy and warm, with a big fireplace, a loveseat and two armchairs in front of it, bookshelves filled with books on the opposite wall. His friends had truly found him a good place to crash. The dining room and the kitchen were connected to the living room by a wall with open arches, and one side of the dining room was a full window that offered a nice view of the city. He decided to look for anything that might be amiss before you moved from the hallway, and walked through the corridor, opening the door to the bedroom and the bathroom. It must definitely be more expensive than his previous lodging, but he hardly cared or worried about that in his life.

His clothes and yours had been carried here in two suitcases, and Chrollo decided he would give you space to have a bath or a shower whilst he tidied things up. With that in mind, he stepped back into the living room, observing you as you put his coat on the armchair.

‘Why don’t you take a warm shower, darling? It will relax your muscles. I’ll be here if you need anything’ he said, and you looked down at your torn clothes, your eyes wandering around the room.

He quickly went back to the bedroom, opened the suitcases and grabbed one of his shirts and clean underwear. You could go without trousers. If he were honest, he wanted you to go without any of those cumbersome clothes covering your stunning body, but he doubted you would react nicely to it if he suggested that. He was willing to compromise.

Besides, the thought of you wearing one of his shirts was somehow even better than going without it. Something about having something that was his on you. Proof of the fact that you were his.

He stepped outside, handing you the clothes and planting a kiss on your forehead.

‘Uhm- I need... trousers’ you murmured, your face growing hot against his fingers. He smirked, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

‘Do you, darling? The shirt will cover enough of you up. I’ll be in the living room. Come over when you are finished’ he said, leaving you blushing in front of the bathroom and going to the bedroom, starting to sort through the clothes and objects in the suitcase.

When you came back, he had finished tidying up and was sitting down on the sofa with a book in his hand, the fireplace now crackling with orange flames and a glass of red wine on the coffee table.  

He had been right, you did look ravishing. With the smears of blood and dirt gone, his shirt on you, covering you to your upper thighs, leaving your legs exposed, he could hardly restrain himself. But tonight was not the right time to have you. No, he just wanted to hold you and see you. And perhaps taunt you a little as punishment for running away. Yes, he would definitely have you fulfil your promise to do anything he liked starting that very night.

He patted his thigh, and watched with sly amusement as you swallowed, clearly trying to find a loophole that would allow you to sit anywhere else. He enjoyed watching you rack your brains, knowing you might incur more dire consequences after you refused him the day you had attempted to escape.

It took you a minute, but eventually, you took small, hesitant steps towards him until you were firmly sat on his lap, his arm around you holding you to him. He loved your scent, loved the feel of your body against his, loved the sight of your pretty thighs. If he had been any other man, he would not have been able to exert control on his desires. But he would, because if he waited, the reward would be much sweeter. Besides, you seemed to think he would do something, and watching you squirm was delightful in it of itself.

He resumed reading the psychological thriller he’d picked up, stroking your ribs, knowing you’d mended them mere hours before. Your power was truly incredible. A power that sought to heal, remedy, one so in tune with your pure, kind soul. He found it so very fitting, so sweet. And so useful.

He could feel you shifting on his lap from time to time, and could not decide whether he wanted you to continue or to stop because it was so enticing. He decided he might do something, even if he would not take you to bed yet. After all, he had you there, glued to his body. It would be a sin to discard such a sweet chance.

He lowered his book, holding you more tightly, tilting your chin with his fingers.

‘Kiss me’ he murmured, watching you to see if you would hold to your word. He saw your pretty eyes widen, your lips parted as you scanned his face and shifted on him. Your teeth caught your bottom lip, pulling lightly on it, and he could not wait to do that himself and feel just how soft your lips were.

He had held back on kissing your lips as well, and he still remembered how worked up he had managed to get you just with that. He had a nice plan in the making, but he wanted you to kiss him first. Set it into motion.

You hesitantly craned your neck to press your soft lips on his cheek, and he let out a soft laugh, cupping your jaw.

‘Do not play coy with me, darling. You know perfectly well what I mean. Now, shall we try that again?’ he crooned, and he could see the acquiescence on your face set, compliance in the face of what you had said in the car as you leaned back towards him, closing your eyes and pressing your lips to his. This time, you did not have to be told to do it again. You knew what he wanted from you, and you acquiesced, tilting your head and touching his hair gingerly, your lips brushing against his, soft and timid. Chrollo restrained the urge to take the lead and show you exactly what he craved, because he wanted you to get there yourself.

At first, you kissed him slowly, tentatively, but then, the tip of your tongue traced the outline of his bottom lip, and you sucked it gently. Chrollo’s fingers curled around your scalp, tangling in your hair as he sank his teeth in your bottom lip, taking advantage of it to slide his tongue in your mouth. He had waited way too long to do this, but God, it was worth it.

You were addicting. He sucked and licked your lower lip, pressing his tongue against yours, tasting you, savouring the feeling of your restraint fading whenever he kissed you more passionately. A few times, he could have sworn you sought out his lips, hungry for more, battling your own desires but unable to deny them to the fullest. And it felt like a damn drug to him. He could force himself on you, but nothing could ever replace the feeling of watching you melt in his arms, so willing and pliant by the time you warmed up to his touch.

Your fingers were tangled in his hair, and his hand wandered down to cup your ass, fingers gripping the plump flesh of it, his cock already hard in his trousers. Judging by the way you were squirming and pressing your thighs together, he knew you would be wet if he touched you. And the thought alone was tantalising. He wanted to devour you, wanted you underneath him again, pretty and completely at his mercy. But he steered clear, deciding to just stroke your thighs, massage them, feel the goosebumps there as he continued to kiss you.

When his fingers inched closer to your inner thigh and you spread them for him a little, he knew he’d won. He smirked against your lips, sucking your swollen bottom lip one last time before he pulled back, looking at your flushed skin, bright eyes and tormented lips. You looked so tantalising, so compliant.

‘Have you any idea what you do to me?’ he whispered, his hand resting on your hip now. He let you simmer in that feeling, knowing that he would not have to wait much longer, he would have you soon.

He went back to his book, smirking slightly whenever you would squirm in his grasp. Oh, you must be so wound up. He wished he could help you. But this was all in favour of something better. To make you truly desperate, just as he was to get his hands on you. To have you all the time.

It did not take you long to start growing more sluggish, and before he knew it, he had finished the book and you were asleep, your head against his jaw, peaceful in your slumber. You were such a heavy sleeper, but he was also aware that you had exhausted yourself with that foolish stunt you’d pulled. He kissed your hair, setting the book down and lifting himself up, carrying you to bed. When he looked at you as you twisted in the sheets and his shirt lifted up to reveal the panties he’d picked out, he let out an audible groan.

Just a little longer, he thought. For now, he headed to the bathroom, seeking to relieve your effect on him.

You were disgusted with yourself. Disgusted with your weakness, disgusted with the effect he had on you. Yes, you’d said you’d do anything if he spared your loved ones, and you had been dreading him trying to fuck you. Having to go through it again. You had not expected him not to.

A week had passed, a week of torture. You had given up altogether on running away, especially because the door was impossible to open and jumping out the window wasn’t a viable option anymore. He had been more lenient than you’d ever imagined he could be, and hadn’t even tried to fuck you. He had merely demanded you sit on his lap and kiss him. And he had done so every day for the past week.

And every night for the past week, you’d been plagued with dreams about him having his way with you. You were horrified whenever you woke up drenched, pressure in your lower stomach, the unbearable desire to feel his touch rearing its ugly head again. Reminding yourself of who he was had become increasingly difficult, when all you could think about was how good he felt, how much his touch sparked heat in your body. And he knew it too, the clever bastard. You could see it in his sly grey eyes, in the sardonic smirk he would give you once he pulled away.

You were lonely, and you were tired. Tired of the struggle, tired of the anxiety, tired of weighing your every word, of pushing him away, of walking on eggshells all day long. It would be so easy to give in. The only thing that held you back was giving him the satisfaction. But then again, you’d already done that the time you’d slept with him. What was the point? Wouldn’t you live a much easier life if you gave in? If you stopped fighting and just let him encroach himself in your life? It had already happened, and your stubbornness and pride were only making your life harder.

You wanted to scream. You wanted to cry. You were weak and twisted for considering liking someone like him. Someone who had kidnapped you, a murderer with no morals, a man who had no problems threatening your loved ones and keeping you captive.

But what choice did you have? What was there in the future for you? More struggle, more bile in your throat, more tightness in your chest, more pain and suffering? Or just acceptance?

He could be considerate, when you did what he wanted. And he could be your worst nightmare if he wanted to.

You couldn’t defeat him, couldn’t escape, couldn’t convince him to let you go. Your choices were to either live a miserable life of suffering, or to give in and experience something bordering safety. Something that might resemble a life one day. All in exchange for giving in to the one who had ruined your life. Somehow, the choice made itself in your mind.

Part III here

[mrsbuckybarnes1917]

REQUEST: @buckys-wintersoldier asked: What about needy Bucky but the reader had bad experiences and needs time. So he gives her time but after a party he can’t stop himself from touching her? But he is really soft and all so she says yes? Word count: 2.3k Warnings: mentions of previous bad relationship trauma, includes smut, penetrative and oral sex

He was exquisite. He was elegant and oh so handsome. He could have had any woman in the room and for some reason he had chosen you. You still couldn't quite believe it was real.

You caught sight of your reflection in a mirror beside you, smiling at what you saw. It had been a while since you'd felt comfortable in your own skin, let alone feel happy with your appearance. But tonight the girl in the mirror in the sexy black dress was smiling back at you. You felt confident for the first time in a long time.

Truth be told, you'd not been entirely open with Bucky.  The relationship was still new. You had asked him to take things slow. The request you'd made had been under the guise of wanting to be understanding to him and his apprehensions for being in an intimate relationship. It wasn't that Bucky hadn't had sex after being freed from his HYDRA brainwashing, no, even you weren't naïve enough to suffer delusions of that kind. But he had admitted to you that you were the first person he had wanted to pursue a relationship with. He felt comfortable with you, he could be himself, free of judgements and frightened looks.

Bucky appeared behind you suddenly, making you jump. He still moved with the stealth of a wolf. He flashed you with one of those rare smiles which he reserved for you and you alone. He made you feel warm and wanted… special. But somehow you couldn't quite overcome your fear of intimacy.

It wasn't that you were opposed to it. Far from it, in fact. You almost longed for his touch, to feel his hands on you…in you. But every time he got too close, there was a voice inside your brain that screamed at you, reminding you of your past exploits, the scathing words which had been thrown at you after the rare moments of intimacy you'd allowed yourself with other men. In short you were afraid, not of Bucky, but of not being able to please him. 

His hands on your bare arms weren’t helping the feeling of lust that was simmering beneath the surface. The way his fingers skimmed over your biceps, tracing the muscles gently…erotically.

“Hey Angel,” he mumbled in your ear. “You having a good time?”

“Yeah, it’s great. I mean it’s a lot, but I’m enjoying it.” You glanced around the crowd, the throng of people on the dance floor.

“You want to dance?” Bucky asked, but you could hear the uncertainty in his voice. He was still wary of being surrounded by large numbers of people. He would usually spend his time at these events around the peripheries of the room.

“Maybe not out there,” you pointed at the dance floor.

Bucky took your hand and with a surprise swift movement, he spun you around and straight into his sturdy strong chest. The way his hand fit snugly into the small of your back felt perfect. Your knees trembled at the way he looked down at you, the passion in his beautiful blue eyes and if his strong arms hadn’t been enveloping you, you wondered if your legs would give way right there and then.

“Want to get out of here?” Bucky whispered in your ear.

“Yes, please!”

“Do you want to go somewhere or do you want me to take you home?”

“Buck, these heels are sort of killing my feet. I know it's not a very exciting thing to do, but do you want to come back to my place? We could watch a movie together.”

“As long as I'm with you, I don't care what we do.”

Bucky had a way of making you blush, the way he fawned over you while making you feel desirable at the same time. He held your hand the entire way home and you couldn’t stop staring at him.

“Why do you keep looking at me, Angel?”

“I love looking at beautiful things.”

If you had known how deeply it would have made Bucky blush, you’d have called him beautiful a lot sooner. Before you knew it, he was pulling up outside your apartment and scrambling out of the car so he could open your door and offered you an arm to support you as you teetered around in those three inch stilettos that made your calves look sculpted and thinner. You could see Bucky glancing up and down at you, see the hunger in his eyes. You knew what he wanted, it was obvious from the way his hands wandered around your body, the way his arms folded over across your chest, the way he pressed his nose against your head, inhaling the scent of your shampoo. 

He followed you into your apartment with his hands on your hips, you didn’t see the way he checked out your ass but you could sense his eyes on you. The second your door was closed, his lips were on yours, his fingers dug into your waist as he pulled you close to him, moaning softly into your mouth. It felt like Bucky couldn’t quite get enough of you. Only when you felt his growing erection against your belly that you realized that he wanted more than you were quite ready for.

With a slight sigh, you pulled your lips away from his, hoping that he wouldn’t be upset. You kissed his cheek and took his hands off your hips.

“I’m just going to take these shoes off and get changed and we can pick a movie. Okay?” you smiled at him. But inside your heart was pounding with fear, what if he got mad at you? Your last boyfriend had always made snarky comments until you agreed to sex and then complained about your lack of involvement when he was finished. It was rare for you to finish or really even enjoy intercourse when you’d been with him.

You disappeared quickly before he had the chance to express any difference of opinion. It didn’t take you long to shed the slinky black dress in favor of a comfortable t-shirt, some shorts and an oversized cardigan. As you made your way back to the living room, your hand lingered on the door knob. What if he didn’t want to stay?

You needn’t have worried because the second you stepped out of your bedroom, you found Bucky in your kitchen taking freshly popped corn out of your microwave.

“I thought you might be hungr-” he didn’t quite finish his sentence as he caught sight of you. There was no hiding how his eyes flicked down to take in your bare legs.

“Thanks, Buck. Come on.” You took the bowl from him and beckoned him over before climbing onto your couch and covering your legs with the blanket.

Bucky followed gladly, any excuse to be close to you. He sat down next to you and slung his arm over your shoulder and smiled as you snuggled into his side. Your reaction earlier had given him cause for concern. But now he couldn’t quite pay attention during the movie because he was distracted by the way your hand stroked his thigh. Bucky found himself pressing his lips against your head, nuzzling into your ear. His hand snaked around to your thigh.

You sighed quietly, resigning yourself to let this happen. It wasn’t until you stiffened at his touch that he stopped to question you.

“Angel?” Bucky called you softly. 

“Yeah?”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you nodded.

“It’s just that you don’t seem very comfortable.”

“No, it’s fine, Bucky. Come here.” You reached over to kiss him.

Bucky let you kiss him, indulging in the salty taste on your tongue from the popcorn. He slipped his hand under your shirt and caressed your back. It was only after about five minutes of making out that Bucky was feeling a little impatient, he leaned over and guided you backwards onto the couch. He smiled down at you, brushing your hair out of your face and gazing into your eyes. 

Bucky hadn’t known you for a long time, but he had grown very fond of you in that time and he loved seeing the joy on your face when you experienced things that made you happy. And he would do anything to see your face light up that way, but he couldn’t find that in your expression as he looked down on you.

“Angel, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing Bucky, let’s do this.”

“But it doesn’t feel like you want to.”

“I do, Bucky, come on. Let’s get it over with.”

“Get this over with? Angel, don't you want this?” Bucky’s shoulders drooped and his brow furrowed with confusion. 

“I do, but-” your voice was quiet, but now that he had asked you a direct question, you didn't want to answer. What if he didn't understand?

“You know that if you don't want to, we don't have to. We can just watch the movie. Or if you want me to leave-”

“No!” you cut him off, grabbing his arm. You most certainly didn't want him to leave.

Bucky sat up and the loss of warmth of his body on yours made you shiver. He covered your legs with the blanket but didn't join you under it. You pulled your cardigan over your torso, trying to hide yourself inside it.

“I'm sorry.” Your face burned with shame.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Angel.”

Bucky sat with you silently, wanting desperately to ask what had caused your apprehension, but he didn't want to invade your privacy or push you into something you didn't want to divulge.

“I don't want to disappoint you,” you mumbled.

Bucky's eyebrows flew into his hairline. “Why would you think that?”

“He said…” you hesitated. “He said I wasn't good…at sex.”

Bucky sighed. He hated the man who had made you feel this way. “Angel, I-” Bucky hated that he didn't know how to express himself as eloquently as Steve often did. “All I want is to feel close to you. But only if you want that too.”

“I want that too. I want nothing more.”

“Angel, can I ask you something?”

You nodded. 

“Was he good? Did he make you feel good?”

You shook your head dismally. 

“I want you to feel good, Angel. I want us to feel closer than we already are.”

“I want that too, Bucky.” 

Bucky reached out a hand and you let him cup your cheek. You let him pull you into a kiss, a kiss where you gave in to the passion, your tongues familiarizing each other's mouths. Bucky pulled you into his lap and you took your time feeling each other's bodies, learning what touches the other responded to. 

When Bucky's exploration of your body finally reached your core, you were literally dripping. The way his fingers teased your entrance had you begging to feel him inside you. Bucky couldn't do anything other than oblige your pretty pleas. He was far beyond aroused and painfully hard and eager to know you in the most intimate way possible.

His jaw was completely slack as he reveled in the pleasure of stretching your walls, your moans were music to his ears. The way Bucky filled you was a feeling unlike anything you'd ever experienced before. 

What you were feeling was incredible, the pleasure, the elation! The way Bucky moved inside you, the ease with which he glided in and out would be your undoing. In all of your past experiences, you'd never felt this degree of bliss. It certainly helped that Bucky was muttering a barrage of praises into your ear about how amazing you felt, how well you took him, 

“Angel, I'm close. I can't-”

“That's okay Bucky,” you whispered in his ear. “Come for me?”

“Only for you, Angel.” He moaned, as he thrusted into you one more time before spilling his seed inside you.

The supersoldier serum coursing through his veins meant that it didn't take him long to recover and he was propping himself up to look at you.

“Did you…?” he panted.

“What?” You were surprised by his question. “I- I-” You flushed, embarrassed that you hadn't climaxed when he had. But you had agreed to communicate with him, so you shook your head with a small pout.

“Okay.” He climbed off you.

“Okay.” You echoed him, accepting that this was the end of the discussion.

But what happened next isn't what you were expecting. Bucky climbed down to the other end of the sofa and hooked his arms under your knees.

“Is this okay?” he asked.

“Buck, what’re you doing?”

“These,” he patted your knees, “go here.” He pointed his thumbs towards his shoulders. “I'm just gonna put this cushion under here so you're comfortable.” Bucky pushed a couch cushion under your hips to lift them.

“Bucky?”

“Do you trust me?”

“Yeah, but-”

“If you don't like it, you can tell me to stop. Okay?”

“Okay.”

A mischievous glint appeared on Bucky's face and he gripped your hips and raised them up to his mouth where he proceeded to devour you until you were squirming and bucking against his mouth. He ran his tongue lightly over your lips before pushing through and licking and sucking your clit. It wasn't long before you were screaming his name and falling over the edge into an oblivion of Bucky’s making.

He smiled as he lowered you back down onto the sofa, massaging your hips after the strain he had put on them spreading your legs.

“How you feeling, Angel?”

The only sound that came out of your mouth was a few random unintelligible notes.

Bucky chuckled and lay down beside you. “I know exactly how you feel, Angel. Can we do this again soon? You can remind me just how amazing you are.”

[sharksssm]

I Want You (As A Bear)

On AO3 Warnings: Halsin is a bear, smut in wild shape, smut, blood, biting, injuries, no beta we die like men.

It wasn’t often you found yourself in a situation where you were so exposed, cold wind nipping at your body in places usually covered with armour, daggers usually stashed at the places on your thighs now covered with goose bumps. However, what you hoped would happen tonight wasn’t something that could be explained with the word ‘often’, and the wind was the only thing that convinced you that this could be a situation at all. Earlier, wondering through Wyrm’s Crossing, Halsin had mentioned in passing to Jaheira that he was struggling to contain his inner bear, that smells were carrying in the wind and lingering so much longer than usual. So, thinking back to that night you shared, how you had been so hesitant to embrace him as a bear, and how understanding he had been… well, you decided he should be able to have you the way he desired, as you had him. You’d been preparing for at least a tenday, trying to figure out how you would have to manoeuvre to fit him as a bear, how he’d even want you to be positioned. Eventually you’d pushed your pride down far enough to ask Astarion, who despite initially laughing at you to the point you were terrified the rest of the camp would come and ask what was going on, was taking every opportunity he could over the last few days to brainstorm (and test) as many positions he could think of, including a significant amount that you didn’t think were possible for a bear to do.

That led you to now, shivering in the forest, standing in the wind that you knew was blowing toward camp, already rubbing your thighs together, both for warmth and because the log nearby had been used by yourself and Astarion just that morning to do unspeakable things under the guise of getting berries for breakfast. You paced briefly, pushing Astarion from your mind. You were here for Halsin after all, thinking of Astarion right now, as difficult as it was, wouldn’t be fair on your lover. A twig cracked behind you, and you raised your arms to hug yourself, not afraid at all. Even without your daggers, without your armour, you had faith in the weave that ran hot and crackling through your bloodstream. Besides, not much out here could harm you, and the speak with animals spell would remain until you rested. A hand, large and calloused, wrapped itself around your waist, and you immediately relaxed into the broad chest behind you.

“My heart, what a surprise.” You inhaled through your nose, the smell of leaves, the campfire and something altogether foreign to you that you could only assume was bear invaded your senses. “And just for you, Halsin. I overheard you and Jaheira earlier… I had hoped you would find me.” There was a beautiful fondness in his eyes as you turned around, the look he always gave you. You swore you could feel your goosebumps disappear as he drank you up with his gaze. His hands enveloped your waist completely, his thumbs rubbing circles on your lower ribs, what sounded like a growl sounding low in his throat. “I did more than find you, I smelled you. Not just you, but your arousal.” He all but purred. His hand travelled down your bare stomach, fingertips just reaching the delicate hair above your sex. Your knees felt weak as he buried his face in your hair and inhaled. You can’t help but wonder what he smelled, what you smelled like when you’re ready for him like this. A stab of nervousness bursts through you - are you ready? One thing you couldn’t prepare for was the size of him. His hand faltered, could he smell that too?

“My heart, what are you thinking?” He turned you to face him, your heart in your throat at the way your neck had to strain to look up at him, and his bare chest. Gods, his chest. “I’m thinking...” you trailed off, running your hands down his chest to play with the opening of his pants, working on their undoing “… that I would like you, as a bear.” It was his turn for his breath to catch, your smaller hands finally undoing his pants and working its way into his underclothes. Your brilliant eyes caught his, seeing something different in his eyes, a primal want that you’ve only seen once, although last time he withdrew from you to fight it off. You clasped your hand around him, or as best you could anyway, and put your other hand on his face, pulling him in for a kiss finally. His mouth met yours passionately, his hands pulling you close to him as your tongues wrestled for dominance, not that it took long for you to give in to him. You would always submit to him, to your bear, your Halsin. You pushed the thoughts of possessiveness from your mind as you disconnected from him, dropping to your knees on the ground, suppressing a wince as a stray pebble made its presence known to your kneecap. Your hands gripped his waistband and pulled his pants and undergarments down, as he stepped out of them to aid you. You leaned forward, holding your eye contact, as you licked a line from his base to his tip, gathering his pre-cum on your tongue. You’d never done this to anyone before Astarion, and once Gale, not that he’d be willing to admit it to anyone but you and learned quickly that the two of them enjoyed vastly different things, so you only hoped Halsin would enjoy some of the things you learned from the two of them. You swirled your tongue around the tip, positioning your hand around the base of his cock, the gap your hand couldn’t quite cover impossibly big from this angle. Gods, he really was a huge elf. Your eyes fluttered shut as you took as much of him into your mouth as you could, a groan erupting from the naked man above you, and your sex twitched in response, a signal you were ready to be filled, though you’ve known that for a while, even if your body hadn’t caught up. You pushed him ever further into your mouth, your hands on the backs of his thighs for leverage, and set yourself a pace that you desperately hoped you could maintain with the feeling of your jaw stretching to its limit to accommodate as much of him as you could.

His hand rested in your hair as his breathing picked up, and you held his thighs as hard as you could pulling him into you. You could feel his muscles tense, as though holding back, and he twitched in his mouth. You recalled Astarion’s voice in your mind, when you were with Gale. “Squeeze him right at the base, don’t let him let go yet. You’re in charge here.” You pulled off Halsin’s cock, a wet pop and a string of saliva leading to his cock making your hole clench as your grip tightened around the base of his cock. He gasped, his hips twitching towards you and his eyes opening and immediately looking at you, surprise all over his expression. “I want you to let go inside of me, my love.” Halsin dropped to his knees before you, pulling you onto his lap, your legs falling either side of his hips. His cock nestled between your lips, pressing against your hole, his lips sought yours again and took your breath away just as you took his away only moments before. He ground himself against you, slowly and teasingly, allowing the had of his cock to catch against your hole, but never letting it inside. He pulled back, relishing in your flushed face, the way your redness spread down onto your chest. “Are you sure you want me as a bear? I know it is not most people’s preference, especially since you are so small my love.” You whimpered against him, rolling your hips for any sort of friction against your body, nodding fiercely. “I want you Halsin, all of you, all for me.” The growl erupting from his throat sent tingles through your body as he moved you off his lap, leaving you on you back in the soft dirt and grass. His body moved back, light enveloping him as hair burst from his body, his limbs and face changing in almost the blink of an eye until stood before you was a beautiful bear, all soft fur and claws. The bear stalked forward (you didn’t know bears could stalk) until it stood before you, between your legs. You quivered in anticipation, waiting for Halsin to take the lead. His forelegs bent, almost as if bowing, and before you knew it his large tongue was lapping at your hole. You gasped, trying to squirm away from him, but his large paws pressed your hips to the ground, his claws drawing the smallest pinpricks of blood from along your hip bones. You moaned as he dipped inside of you with his tongue, as though testing if you're even capable of taking him like this. You could feel yourself approaching orgasm, rapidly, as his nose nudged your clit over and over as he drank you up, his tongue alternating between thrusting inside you and teasing round your fluttering hole. You could see his cock when you looked down, animal and foreign looking, and imagining it inside you tipped you over the edge. You ground yourself into the Halsin-Bear's face as you came, the vibrations from his deep growl overstimulating your already very stimulated clit. As you came down you could hear Halsin's voice in your mind.  I want you over that log, the one with you and Astarion's scent on it. I want to drown his scent out, I want your thoughts to be of only me when you look at that log. I will have you all night until I am all you can think of, all you feel when you touch yourself, until I am the reason you cannot walk back to camp.  How could you refuse?

******* Your hips bucked against the felled log you were bent over, hands scrabbling for purchase against the cold hard ground. There was nothing to hold on to except the last remaining shreds of your sanity, and at this very moment you were thanking any god you could think of (and potentially some devils) that you had a single moment of clarity to throw your undershirt over the log to avoid splinters. You had assumed Halsin would take you the second you scrambled over the log, resting your hips on it to keep your ass in the air for him, but instead he had buried his snout back into your folds, seemingly determined to draw you to orgasm over and over. You panted and writhed as his tongue pushed against your entrance, dripping onto the forest floor as he pushed you violently towards your 4th (5th?) orgasm of the night. The coil in your stomach felt ever tight like it would never go away, and you were sure this orgasm would tear you apart, split your muscles and your entire body right down the middle. Halsin’s wet nose and fur pressed against you as he somehow harshly sucked your clit, curling your toes and eliciting desperate sounds you didn’t even know could come from your mouth. Still no orgasm came, the sweet pain pleasure of overstimulation battling against your own body to avoid the bud of nerve endings from ripping more pleasure where you had none to give. Nonetheless, Halsin placed a paw on your ass, pushing your hips down into the log and continuing his beautiful ministrations, edging you closer and closer to your breaking point, filthy things spilling from your lips in infernal every time Halsin rolled his tongue around your over-sensitive bud.

One more my beloved, and I’ll give you what you want Your entire body tensed, toes curling and legs shaking as he growled into you, slick claws running up your folds, and you could feel yourself start to break, the edges of your vision blurring. Your mind wasn’t capable of coherent thought, the only thing running through it was Halsin’s name, like a chant or a prayer, blasphemy of the highest order. He was everything, the forest, the sun, you felt the knot in your stomach tighten ever further. Your legs ached from how tight the muscles were, you felt your pussy clench and suddenly, your mind snapped. You felt so disconnected from the world as your legs shook uncontrollably, liquid gushed out of you onto Halsin’s tongue as he relentlessly fucked you with it. Raspy moans and whimpers escaped from your lips as your body went limp, your hips twitching, knocking painfully against the log in front of them lamenting how goddamn empty you were. You begged for him, no clue what language you were spilling from your lips only that it was begging for his cock, begging for him to fill you and breed you over and over until he couldn’t anymore. His tongue licked up your bare back as you brainlessly murmured your desires, your prayers to him lost in translation between his native elvish and your native infernal. His cock caught at your entrance, thick and weeping, as his paws became visible either side of your shoulder, caught in your peripheral vision as he nuzzled into the back of your neck.

Beg. You whimpered, your throat dry in anticipation and exhaustion. “Pdyiwy” you sobbed, only infernal making sense to you right now. He rocked against you, huffing into your hair and almost purring at your strangled sobs when the head rubbed against your overstimulated clit. I said beg. You squeezed your eyes shut, head dropping so your chin almost touched your chest, arms struggling to hold you up off the floor. “P-Please! I need you Halsin, fuck me.”

Halsin growled, and pushed against you, his body too animal to aim himself as he rutted against you, his cock head catching on your hole and slipping out a few times. You were too fucked out to help, as you ground yourself back into him, desperate for the stretch of him, and with a purr you connected with him finally, moving perfectly for him to slip into you. The stretch strung, his cock which was significantly above average as an elf only enhanced as a bear, but you ground down on him despite his holding back. He pulled back, and thrust back into you, your voice cracking as you groaned and tried to push yourself back onto him. “Please, don’t hold yourself back, I don’t care if it hurts.”

His breath, hot and animal on your neck, seemed to halt for a moment, before a deep, rumbling growl slipped from him and he ground his hips forward in a quick, harsh motion.  The stretch was delicious, a pricking sharp pain inside you mixed with stabs of pleasure at the blistering pace Halsin was fucking you at, never pulling out more than a few inches before slamming himself back inside you, as if he couldn’t bear to take himself from your heat for more than a few seconds. He ground against you, muzzle pressed to the back of your neck. You didn’t remember much of what you researched on bear mating to prepare for this, but you were sure that if you were another bear, he would be biting you to keep you in place. That thought rocketed straight to your sex, making you squeeze down around his cock and you could swear you felt large, terrifying teeth against your neck. The pain had all but subsided now, you subconsciously knew you’d have scrapes from the wood all over you, bruises from stones on the ground, but how could you feel any of that when all you could feel was this. Halsin’s rutting stuttered every now and then, his breath coming out in wild puffs, teeth bared now, pressing to the back of your neck. Your breathing was laboured, moans and whimpers your only sounds, words and sense long since fucked out of you. You could feel that familiar knot on your stomach, but alien this time, feeling more like Gale’s ball of weave than an impending orgasm. You were sure that this orgasm would destroy you, you’d die happy and clenching around your lover’s cock, unable to even comprehend your own demise because of how fucked out you were.

Your breath hitched as Halsin’s hips stuttered, grinding into you once, twice, and then a warmth filled you, his hips still moving to fuck his seed as deeply as he could, suddenly feeling him abruptly dismiss his wild shape while still inside you. A large calloused hand suddenly wrapped around one of your horns, pulling you off the log and onto your knees, back against his chest. Cock still inside you, his other hand found it’s way to your clit, rubbing harsh circles around it. “One more my heart, you’re so close for me.” His gruff voice whispered in your ear, your whimpers drowned out by a high-pitched noise in your ears as you catapulted before what you were sure was your blissful death. The hum in your ears drowned out Halsin’s sweet nothings, the sounds of nature around you, you felt the painful pleasure of your overstimulated sex rocket through your body. The sounds coming from you were foreign and animal, and emphasized even more as you felt the last thread of your sanity snap. Your vision blurred completely as you gushed over Halsin’s hand, your body almost convulsing as you came, his hand on your horn and you leaning on his chest the only reason you were even upright. You vaguely noticed the night sky, and someone moving your body to the water’s edge.

When you came to, Halsin was cleaning your body with a cool wet rag, smiling down at you as your eyes finally focused. “Welcome back, Art.” You looked around – it appeared you were in the same place, at the same time of day. Alive. “Halsin I-“ He shushed you, putting the rag down and running his hands through your now undone hair. The collection of delicate gold chains which usually hung from your horns were in another clean rag next to it. “You are fine my love, it was overwhelming for me too. We probably should have discussed my affinity for overstimulation beforehand.” You ran your hand down Halsin’s face, drawing him in for a kiss. “I enjoyed it very very much. I wouldn’t change a thing.” Halsin aided you in redonning your camp clothes, sneaking kisses every step of the way, checking in with you, casting a healing spell that fortunately couldn’t do anything about the ache between your legs. With what was before you, the challenges, you had no idea when you’d be able to do this again, and you wanted to remember and feel it for as long as possible. He did end up carrying you back to camp, setting you in your tent with a deep kiss goodnight, stressing your need for sleep if you were to continue your journey tomorrow. As you drifted to sleep, you felt the emptiness between your legs, rubbing your things together elicited an electric shock through your body that warned you against doing that again. You were 100% sure you wouldn’t be able to deal with someone touching your clit again for at least a tenday, if not two. Now to break that news to Astarion.

Bonus: Astarion had been waiting for Art to return all night, he was nothing if not a gossip and gods, he wanted to hear everything. But when he watched Halsin carry Art back, and Art's knees all but wobble the few steps into their tent? He needed more than gossip, he needed to tadpole that information out of Art. He started the dash across the few tents between his and Art's, confident everyone was asleep before a deep voice rang out across camp with his name. Astarion's eyes flew up to meet Halsin's, where he stood half in and half out of his tent with a smile on his face. "I may not have a tadpole, but I can show you exactly what happened anytime you want." Astarion, for once lost for words, nodded enthusiastically and silently slipped into Art's tent to the sound of Halsin's rich laughter.

[bella-goths-wife]

So I’m not sure if you’ve ever thought about this and it’s ok if it’s too awkward but…since Velvette is the only female Vee- does that mean she’s the one who takes care of Pet during her “time of the month”? Maybe the only one who can actually understand her.

How do the Vs handle pets time of the month

Warnings: weird dynamics, abuse, power imbalance, menstruation talk, sexualisation of pet reader

You knew how to handle periods pretty well

Sure they were different because of your new form, but it was still the same principles as before

It used to be a real problem back when you were first brought to hell and living on the streets

You had to do anything to be able to get some product to help with the bleeding, literally anything

So you’ve learned to suck up pain pretty well and you’ve definitely learnt to tough out your time of the month

But you also learnt a thing or two about how to manipulate men on the streets, and your period became a handy tool in this effort

If you told Vox that you were on your period, he would act like an embarrassed dad who just wanted to get rid of the conversation in any way possible

He found that your period gave him a reminder that you weren’t a child and he found it to be a constant reminder of your sexuality that he tries to desperately block off

Your menstruation is just another reminder that your an adult demon and not a childlike pet, and Vox almost sexualises you when it comes to your period

His first thought that comes to mind when you bring up your period is that you could possibly be having sex, instead of acknowledging that this is just a biological process your body goes through

So he allows you to get away with much more then usual and will sometimes allow you days off to spend in your room

Valentino has an opposite reaction, your menstruation actually humanises you to Valentino in a way that disgusts him

Your menstrual cycle reminds Valentino that your not just one of his toys and that your a undeadly living demon

Your real and not just made to fulfil his needs

So he’d start up his usual routine of inappropriate touches despite never being sexually attracted to you, and you’d mention your period and that’s all his interest lost in you

He’ll wrench his hand back like he’s just touched hot fire before looking at you with disgust, only seeing a person instead of his personal plaything

He’ll make some kind of fetish joke that will undoubtedly make you uncomfortable before sending you to your room for the day off under the guise that he’s such a good boss and he doesn’t want you to work while in pain

But the real reason is that he cannot stand being around you when your humanised in his eyes, when he can smell the blood on you and know that even his toy has a biological component

Velvette does not let your menstrual manipulation fly though

As she’s also a female, she also experiences menstruation

And when she’s on her period she will expect for you to dote on her like she were a sick person in private while keeping her tough girl act up in public

She’d have you absolutely pamper her and even hold her for a while when she feels emotional

So when your on your period you sometimes expect the same treatment, until you are reminded once again that you are not an equal to velvette

She’ll work you the same amount and will work you even harder if she hears any complaints

If you do complain you’ll be reminded of your time in the streets and velvette will remind you that you managed to overcome that so working for her while menstruating should be no big deal

The other two would try and get her to calm down on you but she’ll only double down and claim that your manipulation tactics don’t work on her

But she will insist on you sleeping in her bed while your menstruating

She becomes overly protective of you when your on your period, she claims that men will sense it on you and take advantage of you

It almost made you laugh how she practically facilitated Valentino’s sexual assault but became overly concerned with your well-being from other demons

So it’s almost like she becomes more clingy to you once your on your period, especially if you two sync cycles

If you two sync she’ll be working you to the bone and expecting you to pamper her while also being overprotective and not letting any men around you

And she’d also be emotional so the nights that your sleeping in her bed she’ll demand you hold her for hours on end despite usually hating affection

She craves the warmth and acceptance of a female companionship and relationship, but does not want to put the work into building a friendship

And your right there, her little obsession

You can fulfil her social needs and her cravings of a connection while being sworn to secrecy and programmed to answer her every command

And your menstruation reminds her that someone could try and take you, in a similar way to Vox she associates your menstrual cycle with sex and sexualises you with more fear then discomfort like Vox

She fears that you’ll enter a sexual or romantic relationship and she’ll lose you to someone else, despite her never craving a sexual or romantic connection with you

She wants to be your friend but that would mean acknowledging you as an equal which is something that she refuses to do

So you’ll remain her pet, her loyal mutt

Her little obsession

Tag list :)

@perkypeony @the-faceless-bride @lilyalone @buttercupfangirl @corvid007 @fandomaddict505 @hazbinhotelxreader @sparkleyfishies @repostingmyfavs @aroomofmyown24 @ivebeenthearchersstuff

[alessiamalfoyzabini]

Dark Moon | Chapter Eight

Pairing | yandere!Jimin x Reader

Word Count | 3k

Warnings |​​​​​​​ +18, yandere themes, smut noncon, teasing, forced nudity, humiliation, glove returns, insults, slapping, fingering, tears, forced pleasure, finger licking, rough penetration, vaginal sex, orgasm denial, contraceptive use, Jimin becomes a lust demon, MC loses patience and explodes, triggering content, this is not for minors

This fanfiction is yandere, if you don't like the genre, don't read and if you are not of age, don't read.

I don't want to hear any complaints in the comments, thank you.

This does not reflect my way of thinking or living at all, it is just a work of fiction, it is like watching a horror movie, many of us love horror movies, but we would never dream of what we see in those movies happening in reality as well.

Simply put, this story was written for entertainment purposes, it should not be seen as a reflection of my values, opinions or morals. I absolutely do not condone such acts.

⤷ Summary | She just wanted to escape her past, take charge of her life and break out of her steel cage, praying in God for a miracle that could change her life for good.

And her prayers were heard, but it was not the Divine that answered her.

That was certainly the devil in the guise of an angel, she thought as those corrupted and empty eyes searched her soul with extreme voracity.

He turned a sweet, false smile on her, before pushing her into the abyss.

➢ Author's Note | Here is the new chapter of Dark Moon ❤️ Let me know what you think, it is always a joy for me to know if you like the story 🥰

Taglist: @katherine-kookie, @dragons-flare, @m00njinnie, @seokjins-luigi, @pjmsneverland, @jimincrystal, @ajkwww, @ungodlyjoon, @hecateslittlewitchling, @namjoonsbuspass, @darkuni63, @xicanacorpse

Taglist is open!

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He passed the hallway that divided them with a light step, darkness engulfing the house in deadly silence, he kept thinking of her as a chill slid down his spine, he thought of her small, soft body, his to break in any way.

When he reached the bedroom, the doorknob lowered under the pressure of his fingers, opened without making a squeak. Nothing in that house seemed willing to help the young woman.

He inhaled into the air the sweet scent of woman there, it was floral and honeyed, something that made a low, deep growl vibrate in his chest.

Like a predator he reached for his prey as silently as possible, moving through the darkness, his friend, this reminded him of the night of the abduction, just as then he watched her sleeping blissfully in a bed that did not belong to her, illuminated by the dim light of the street lamps filtering through the ajar window, her face softly stretched in an angelic expression angered the man, who contrary to his emotional state felt his cock harden.

He bit his lower lip as he climbed onto the bed he had personally chosen for her; he had taken care of every little detail and she should have simply thanked him.

When Y/N lifted his heavy eyelids in the darkness of the room he knew immediately that something was wrong. She felt foreign moisture on her neck, but it took her a few seconds longer to connect well and understand the actual situation.

Jimin broke away from the delicate line of her neck to imprison her in his lust and resentment-laden eyes, with a small, shrill cry she tried to evade the man, who in response imprisoned her in his strong arms.

"Be quiet," he hissed harshly, watching the young woman's chest heave at a terrified, dizzying pace, reminded him of a pawing mare, and with a grin unfastened the first button of her pajamas from one of the buttonholes.

"What are you going to do?" she swallowed breathlessly, feeling the chill night air at every flap of skin let loose from the constriction of the warm fabric.

"I'm going to take what's mine," he murmured, grasping between his teeth a pinkish, delicate pearl that soon turned scarlet following a bite that made her scream in pain; she wriggled in his arms, trying to escape, and Jimin buried, if possible, even more his head between the woman's breasts, letting his warm, delicate tongue soothe those suffocating sensations, repeatedly striking the offended, stiff tip, he sucked the rest of the soft skin insistently, causing small, stinging bruises to surface, the young woman looked up at the ceiling of her room in shock, everything was happening so quickly that the anxiety in her chest erupted into yet another panic attack.

Y/N grabbed him by the shoulders, putting force to push him away, and her nails penetrated the man's beautiful skin, which far from contentedly pulled away from the girl's now battered breasts.

His black eyes were dipped in fire and soon Y/N realized his fury, at first she hadn't noticed anything, too caught up in her own personal despondency, but now she could clearly see the torment encased in the irises of the man who towered over her like a statue of pure marble, a slap torn the skin of her lower lip, leaving her breathless.

With his jaw tensed Jimin nailed his hips to the girl's, making her aware of his complete nakedness, the woman lost a beat, at which point she burst into tears, remembering when the man had forced her to take him in her mouth, she didn't think it would happen again so soon, God ... she had even gotten used to the idea of being out of the Dark Moon's business.

As if Jimin had read her mind, a lazy smile stretched across his angelic features.

"I took you away from that place because I didn't want other men to dump their cum into you," he said grabbing her by the chin in a grip that had nothing gentle about it at all, "You should thank me, I saved you from a life as a whore that would have made you satisfy the cravings and perversions of all those pigs you would meet."

Y/N would have liked to reply that he was the one who had brought her there, that she had absolutely nothing to thank him for, but Jimin's lips pounced on hers, plugging her mouth before she could say anything that would surely only bring more trouble for her.

The kiss was violent and full of possession, Jimin's tongue entwined with hers in a voracious struggle, heedless of the blood staining her broken lower lip, he took care to taste her sweet flavor as he slowly slid the covers off her body.

Then an idea tickled his mind, releasing the young woman from his ravenous mouth, causing her to momentarily regain air.

"Get undressed," he ordered peremptorily, moving away to make himself comfortable between the blankets.

Y/N watched frozen as the male's actions shamelessly displayed the stiffened length of his cock; it was colored a vivid shade of pink, the turgid tip wet with clear liquid was screaming with need, but Jimin did not even try to touch himself, his dark, wicked irises were on her, waiting.

"Did you hear me?"

Y/N pondered the situation well, and no matter how hard she looked for a way out, it simply did not exist.

If she had tried to escape, he would have caught her and beaten her.

If she had hit him, it probably still would have ended with her getting beaten.

With her heart in her throat she unbuttoned what was left of the buttons of her pajamas, she felt dirty, she was not even fighting for her dignity.

She ended up lowering her shorts as well, remaining only in her clear briefs, and Jimin drank in with his eyes every drop of the image that came before him. He knew she was beautiful, even if annoying, there was a goddess in front of him and a more intense vibration of his cock made him nod in agreement in his mind, now she was simply perfect, because now she belonged to him.

The thought of sharing her had dampened his enthusiasm somewhat, but now he would no longer have to worry about it.

That slut would only welcome his cum where, when, and as much as he wanted it.

"Now turn around and make like the bitches in heat," he said softly, humiliating the woman even more, who clamped her mouth in a hard line, making her tear-filled eyes sparkle, "I won't repeat myself, Y/N. Do what I just told you," he used her name to emphasize the threat in his voice. Jimin was a man of his word, she knew it well.

Swallowing the knot of tears, the woman did as she was told, showing the man the full view of her buttocks still covered by her panties, Jimin hummed contentedly following the line of her pussy that seemed to seduce and call to him, he noticed only then a slight wet spot at the height of her slit, an increasingly sadistic and amused grin spread across his face.

"Wait for me here without moving, understand? I'll be back soon," he intimated to her, leaving the room heedless of his cock screaming at him to take her right away.

Y/N stared at the headboard of the bed with a look lost in nothingness, feeling ashamed of the immoral position she had been forced to, it made her feel if possible even more naked, and she was also getting tired, her wrists and knees that supported her weight were going numb, she was on the verge of collapsing when Jimin returned, she felt his presence not because he announced it, but because by now her body shivered whenever he was around.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, sweetheart," he chuckled, placing himself behind her intentionally, "I just want to make sure I won't hurt a virgin pussy," he whispered in her ear, Y/N had only time to frown, because next Jimin slipped her panties off just enough to slip two fingers directly through the girl's tight, moist slit, who let out a cry at the painful intrusion, only then did she notice something strange, something that made her chest flare with humiliation.

Jimin's hand was wrapped in a leather glove, that leather glove.

The boy caressed her innermost walls, not bothering to be gentle, Y/N squeezed her eyes shut at the cruel invasion, moaning breathlessly at the glove rubbing into her in a rough and crude way, Jimin pushed his fingers deeper, against a spot that made her jerk in surprise, the man at that point added a third finger, delighted by the half moans that the woman could not block between her teeth, devastated by her body feeling pleasure against her will.

Y/N feared this might happen, but she did not imagine it would happen so soon, somehow he had won, again.

The man's hand increased the pace, touching more and more sensitive and hot spots, the girl's hips began to come to him trembling and shy, at which point he stopped, pulling out his three fingers completely drenched in her pearly essence. He watched in satisfaction as that result, pride filled his chest, and a low laugh vibrated through the room.

"You're not a virgin, that certainly hasn't changed," he began, kneeling down to get a better look at her trembling state of shock and stolen pleasure, "But honey, you're so wet now, the first time wasn't like this," he mortified her, leaving a thick lick along her soaked slit, reaching the swollen clitoris that until then had remained untouched and throbbing, Y/N squeezed her eyes shut despondently in the throes of an enjoyment she should not have experienced, Jimin pulled away only to bring proof of his words to her eyes, the glove glistening with her stringy essence.

"Lick," the man ordered, surprising her once again, "Good bitches lick everything until they clean up their mess," he said cruelly, and Y/N did so.

She brought his fingers to her mouth and licked her own essence under Jimin's order, who touched her soft tongue pushing up to her throat. The woman choked for air until the boy released her to put himself back behind her.

He didn't even give her time to get used to the idea, he slid the tip of his cock against her perky, receptive clitoris: once, twice, three times, Jimin lost count of how many times he unnerved the girl before positioning himself at her entrance and sliding inside her.

The pleasure for the man was immediate, he clawed her hard by the hips before thrusting fiercely inside her, Y/N screamed in vain, despite the soggy, throbbing walls the size and thrusts of Jimin's cock were simply too much to bear, she had never had to deal with anything like this, the sensitive tip met the entrance of her cervix and the girl stiffened at the foreign sensation, contracting the walls and squeezing Jimin's cock in such a way that soon had the room filled with the boy's moans and grunts.

"Holy-! You squeeze me so good!" he gasped without realizing it, now lost and intoxicated, peering his length in and out drenched with both of their arousal, his balls slapped the woman's clitoris, she collapsed with her face on the pillows, which muffled her desperate moans, she felt pain, but also a strange pleasure in her belly, which along with the shiny, stimulated pearl between her legs tried to make her reach for something, something that never came.

Jimin got off her just in time, continuing to masturbate with his gloved hand, squeezing the red tip until he discharged his cum between the girl's quivering buttocks.

Y/N finally fell onto the bed, exhausted and unsatisfied.

She had never been able to feel pleasure, she thought with a knot in her throat, she also knew why, and she still could not believe that Jimin had been able to make her go that far, even if in the end that thing had not exploded the way her body had desired.

For his part, Jimin was aware that between the two of them only he had orgasmed.

He had left earlier on purpose.

It was still early for her to experience that kind of pleasure with him; she had to earn it.

That did not, however, prohibit him from opening the lips that protected her now scarlet and abused slit, noticing that the semen poured onto her buttocks was dripping onto her pussy, the erotic sight made him sigh, before he left a kiss on her contracted clitoris that caused her to shudder.

"I've told you before, I could lick your pussy if you behave, Y/N..." he murmured an inch from her, "I could make you scream with pleasure, not pain, if only you'd let me," he sighed pulling away from her, the now-quiet demons were asking for rest, Jimin looked at the girl's still inert body, then left her there alone, returning to his bedroom.

The next morning Y/N found a white box on her bedside table with a note next to it and a glass of water.

'Take it before breakfast, prevention is better than cure.'

The woman frowned, reading the brand name on the box and soon realized what it was. It was a morning-after pill.

She moved to get up from the bed, but a tremendous twinge of pain between her legs made her breath catch, the memory of Jimin's wild thrusts was still vivid and painful in her, pulling up with her nose she strained to take the water and the pill, she would not allow such an accident with that monster, at least he had been quite prescient in that case.

Y/N's routine changed drastically for the worse from then on, if during the day she had a semblance of peace, at night when Jimin came home it was hell, he always waited for her to finish dinner and go to sleep to attack.

He lived in anxiety every night, he didn't know it, but she had become the young man's new addiction, drowning in her body helped him escape from his disgusting memories, helped him not to think, and more than once she had been on the verge of fainting under his desperate thrusts, she ached all over and the man didn't seem to care at all.

He fed lustfully on her.

"I hate you! I hate you!" she shrieked one evening with contempt-infused eyes in his direction, it had been yet another stressful day at work for Jimin, the only thing he wanted was to find himself in bed with her, his new cure and damnation.

He had found her standing there cooking for herself, Jimin never ate at home and even if he had, he would never have eaten anything prepared by her, he could not have known what might be in that food and he wanted to avoid possible poisoning from his recalcitrant bedmate.

He had not held back, he had reached behind her heedless of her terrified gasp, attaching himself to her neck like a suction cup as he reached down with his hands to her hot intimacy, for Y/N was too much.

She could take it no more, she was in pain, and the only thing she was getting from all that fucking was just a strange state of upset and dissatisfaction, as well as now devastating physical pain.

She threw everything she was using up in the air only to turn to the boy and slap him full in the face, the small fingers matched perfectly with the soft skin that turned scarlet in seconds, she continued to hit him on the chest with fists and more slaps.

"You're fucking killing me!" she cried hysterically, Jimin cashed in each blow with icy, marble eyes, let her vent without a word, "I'm going crazy! Why are you doing this to me!"

The girl collapsed to the ground, exhausted, the adrenaline that had pervaded her body leading her to such an outburst now gone, now she was alone, tremendously alone with her tormentor.

She lifted her weary eyes to Jimin, who touched his injured cheek to his face slowly, licking the split and bleeding corner of his mouth.

Y/N marveled at her own strength, her hands burning and throbbing feverishly, she closed them into fists, ready to suffer the fury of man.

The latter knelt in front of her, grabbed her chin firmly and forced her to look at him. Y/N already imagined what would happen.

"What's the matter?" he asked, leaving her stunned, "Is it because I won't let you cum or because your pussy is a little sore?"

"A little?" shocked the woman, "You don't care about me, you just want to use me as a sack for your cum and then throw me away!"

Jimin nodded unable to do anything else, strangely even seemed sympathetic, then said something out of the blue that shocked both of them.

"I'm sorry."

With a strange expression on his face, he got up and disappeared into his bedroom before those words could penetrate deeper into both of them, Y/N observed the place left empty by the boy with a vacant look. Those simple apologies could not belong to Park Jimin. He never apologized; in fact, it was as if he was allowed to do whatever he most craved, so why apologize?

For this very reason she remained vigilant all night, staying awake until the first light of dawn. But Jimin did not show up.

He had not looked for her, neither the next day nor the next.

It was as if Jimin had forgotten about her, but Y/N could not know how wrong she was.

[inkstainedpages]

‧₊˚✧[𝘈𝘬𝘶𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘸𝘢 𝘙𝘺𝘶𝘶𝘯𝘰𝘴𝘶𝘬𝘦 𝘹 𝘈𝘍𝘈𝘉 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳]✧˚₊‧

𝗡𝗼𝘄 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴:

"(Sweet-Cigarettes after sex)"

00:42 ━━━━●───── 04:48

      ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ

𝙄𝙩'𝙨 𝙨𝙤 𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙩,

𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘦..੭﹕ ̊ ̟ ꒷꒦

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜!!

...this piece of writing includes;

smut, gentle sex, soft aku, afab reader, established relationship, cuming inside, unprotected sex, 2nd person pov, rushed writing, inspired by sweet by cigarettes after sex

Reminder!!

please be careful whenever participating in sexual activities in real life. Especially if you are a minor and/or are unprepared for pregnancy and the other consequences of messing around. Please make sure to use protection unless you are actually ready, this is a work of fiction.

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧

Warm lighting, lavender scented oil in the air purifier, the curtains, windows, and door shut. Yet a few sounds would leak from your room, the sound of something playing on your tv. Accompanied by a strange muffled noise that became a common occurrence whenever he would visit.

It started off as a few harmful check ups under the excuse of awaiting for your recovery so you can get back to working in the mafia. He was just oh so concerned, after all, you are the only person he sees fit to work alongside him.

When you did get better from that nasty flu, the visits came to a halt. For some time. Until he started insisting to walk you home, accompany you on your walk to ensure your safety. He swore it was just for safety measures and that it meant nothing.

Until he started to stay for some time. Then he would randomly show up with all sorts of excuses. If he wasn't your superior, you would have laughed in his face at how cute he looked trying to hide his face with the back of his hand as he turned his head to the side. Though you couldn't help but feel honored, since not everybody is liked by the black fanged hellhound of the port mafia.

One visit, then another, and then another. Until he came over so often you had lost count. It was odd, how intrigued he was by you. How strange it was, when the hellhound of the port mafia would follow you around like a lost puppy.Following you home, declining your offer to come inside, at first. Though you grew persistent over time. Until he couldn't just keep denying.

And with time spent together came with the formation of a bond. A bond that differed from the one sided rivalry from when the two were younger and under the guise of the same executive. That was years ago. This was different. Far different.

Though you couldn't be bothered to think of all that. Not now, when your mind was so foggy, your vision blurry, head spinning. Not when you struggle to keep your eyes open, having to shut them as you lean onto Akutagawa. Who was laying on your bed, underneath your covers, holding you to stay still as you lay on top of him. His hips rolling softly, the sound of your skin slapping together accompanied by the shifting of the sheets and comforters.

He swallowed the lump forming in his throat, groaning at the feeling of your walls clenching around him. Taking his cock so well as he thrust into you. He was so gentle that it made you shiver, whimpering into his neck. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, muffling the noises that slipped from your mouth as he kept hitting all those sweet spots that made you see stars.

"𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬- 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘵𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵..~"

He whined, pushing deeper into you. The tip of his dick bruising your cervix. Sure, he was gentle and he sure took his time to ease you, but he was hitting so deeply. Making you gasp, biting down on his neck to ground yourself as you felt the knot in your stomach tightening. At this point, you've forgotten of how many orgasms he's made you go through.

He's forgotten about everything else, nothing else crossed his mind but you. He doesn't know why or how you affect him like this so greatly. He prioritizes you, in a way. He can't understand, but he's came to the conclusion that his 'attachment' grew into something more. He should have know he was too deep in when he started to get softer, and be sweet.

Your sweet moans overpowering the volume of your tv as it continued to play the movie you had chosen earlier. You've long forgotten about it, and it wasn't until you felt yet another climax take place that the tv paused the movie and asked;

"are you still watching?"

Of course not. You were too busy riding out your orgasm as he pushed deeper and deeper into you, as deep as he could.Making you shudder and bite down yet again on his neck, leaving a other dark red bruise on his pale skin. He's gonna have to think of how he's gonna cover or hide the hickeys you left on his neck.

Though he couldn't think of that right now. Both of you couldn't think of anything else but each other, and how good it felt. Honestly, at this point, you couldn't think straight and were mindlessly biting and nibbling on his neck. And he wasn't in a better state either. Akutagawa had been whining and mumbling some words you couldn't comprehend, and by the sound of his voice, it seemed pretty emotional.

"..𝘴𝘰 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥..𝘮𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘭.. 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘦..𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵-"

He mumbled beneath his breath, tripping over his own words as his breath hitched. Getting caught in his throat as he felt himself close. He was close. And he was way too out of it to even think of pulling out. He just kept thrusting into you, pushing deeply inside. Hell, you didn't catch a word he said. His voice fading, nearly inaudible for you. You were too focused chasing after your own high.

Your eyes snapping wide open when he stilled himself, his thrust coming to a pause when he spilled himself inside of you. Spilling his cum deep inside of you. When he finished, he made sure to give a few more thrust, ensuring it got in deeper. He wouldn't let even a drop of his precious seed go to waste. He just couldn't, not when it took off such a large percent of his energy and time..

Akutagawa huffed when he felt some of the sticky white liquid leak out of your hole. Even while he was still inside of your cunt, it sort of frustrated him in a way. He growled by your ear, he snapped his hips forward. Suddenly giving a harsh thrusting, ramming into you. Shoving his cum deeper inside before slowly dragging his length out of you. Making sure to do it slowly while staring into your hazy, half lidded eyes. As if it was a way to tease you. Though he did smirk when he felt you twitch and clench around him as he pulled out completely.

For a moment, it was silent. Just silently staring at eachother. Until you let out a raspy, low chuckle. Smiling up at him as you raised a brow, your eyes were half lidded and glossy.

"𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥?"

Your voice was hoarse, probably from all the moaning and whining. Akutagawa chuckled as well, nodding his head. His lips tug upward into a small smile, he cleared his throat

"𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦, 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥."

[bunnyshideawayy]

cassian. great man, wonderful friend, absolutely terrible mate.

we have seen Nesta’s sisters, who arguably have less of a reason, defend her more than Cassian has ever thought about. HELLO?

my issue with cassian acosf and onward is that we are truly expected to believe they he deeply understands Nesta when he’s been shown time and again to never stick up for her and never fully trust her. he does nothing to help her over come and face her traumas / depression, she’s left to do that on her own, but best believe he’s down to fuck and make her hike! (no sarah sex and physical exercise are not cures)

after reading the entire series once and now twice seeing Rhys threatening anyone who dares breath wrong in Feyre’s direction under the guise of just “protecting his mate” i find it extremely hard to believe cassian allowed or even sides with anyone who speaks ill of/to Nesta or threatens her- all of which Rhysand and most of the IC (besides her sisters and Az) do, most of the time while directly in front of cassian in conversations he’s involved in. the most he does is…pout a little? throws a hissy fit? the two times i can remember him even remotely stick up for Nesta he immednantly backtracks as soon as Rhysand pushes back, both times the final decision being put in Feyre’s hands, this continues even into CC3 (and let’s thank the mother Feyre loves her sisters which is something ik yall nesta haters can’t stand.)

let’s move onto something i know yall don’t want to talk about, his verbal abuse. “oh but nesta also said-“ we know what she said, that is not the point. if this man knew all along nesta was his mate and truly wanted to help her heal from her traumas and depression why did he take every chance he could to provoke her? Nesta called Rhysand an asshole, and he IS especially to Nesta, and instead of keeping silent as he does when Rhys/the IC harshly critique her, he immediately gets angry and in her face to defend him. funny he can’t do that with her, his MATE? or let’s talk about this scene

oh okay! that’s totally something you say unprompted to your mate who is severely depressed and traumatized because she won’t eat! she’s totally not shaking because she’s triggered! then to add the lecture “we’ve been here before, too” oh okay! so you admit you know what she feels like (very doubtful although i’m not going to compare their traumas, both are valid he just does not understand her like he thinks he does) it’s patronizing and a little frustrating. she doesn’t want to be there in the first place, purposely throwing a sensitive subject in her face will not magically motivate her or cure her- she is simply doing what she has no choice in. she has been stripped of all autonomy, humanity, and “normality”- she feels alone and valuable in a way she as never felt before and she has NO HELP. none!

i’ll end with the hike. yay more physical activity as punishment- but if i said that was abuse yall will bring up the pregnancy so ill do it for you! Yes, Nesta was wrong to tell Feyre THE WAY SHE DID, she had every right to tell Feyre about her own body and pregnancy, it just shouldn’t have happened the way it did. everyone knew it was wrong to keep it from Feyre, even Cassian, so instead of forcing her to hike a mountain as punishment to ware her down mentally and physically he couldve stood up for both Feyre and Nesta to Rhysand the moment he threatens to KILL NESTA. a simple “hey buddy you knew it was wrong to keep that from Feyre you can’t kill my mate for telling her even if it was out of anger” would suffice. not once during their entire hike or during her breakdown does he reassure her, not even when she is tearing herself apart because she doesn’t feel worthy. don’t even get me started on what happens in CC3.

over all i think Nessian is great and they have some great moments, the end of ACOWAR lives rent free in my mind but i am incredibly disappointed with Cassian. i do feel like Nesta deserves better from everyone (besides Feyre and Elain who, again, are the only ones who i truly believe love her unconditionally.)

anti nesta’s this is not a safe space for you.

[olderthannetfic]

RE: porn addiction discussion:

I've seen a lot of both breakups and divorces over that very thing in the past decade, Imo I don't think its reasonable to expect everyone who has seen a dissolving in their relationship due to the excessive pornography usage of one partner partner to just suck it up and get used to liking porn themselves, accept watching porn together as a replacement for their sex life, otherwise /they/ must be some non-communicative creep who just wants to use their partner like a dildo.

More and more chicks get pressured by guys into doing that. Or like the other asker said, acting out things from porn that they dont wanna do, and regret it/dont enjoy it. I think its less about ~protecting pristine sacred christian piv~ and more of an acknowledgement that its not realistic to expect the majority of sexual relationships to be able to healthily function like that as long as theres 'communication'.

Communication isn't the end all be all when there's only one clear party that this scenario benefits. The person with the broken dick. To promote the idea that they should, can and is be used against people who don't want that for themselves or their relationship, under the guise that if their boundaries are firm they must be some flavor of "sex negative/christian/radfem/prude"

There's nuance to the topic. People with the same level of porn usage can be happy together, engage in their kinks mutually, all that jazz. But there are also an increasing number of relationships where a dude uses porn and sex-positive language to pressure chicks into doing things they dont want to, having the kind of sex life that they dont want to, which becomes a slippery slope. Or a dude gets so into porn that hes leaving it open on his computer for their kids to see in an exhibitionist sort of way, completely disregarding welfare.

And I don't mean that as any sort of hyperbole or rhetoric, that example happened with my own Dad. Lemme tell you, your father leaving open pages and pages of anorexic amputee torture porn on the family computer that you, as an 8 year old girl, have to rush to close before your younger siblings come in the door after you home from school, will have an impact on both that relationship and ones level of comfort with porn longterm.

And even then, I still got into relationship after relationship once I was old enough, where guys were constantly wanting to replace sex with watching porn with them, and when we did have sex they always wanted to 'try something they saw' rather than just have fun doing something mutually enjoyable and intuitive. Partners sneaking off at my 15 year old sisters birthday party to jack off to 'teen porn' in the bathroom, leaving home for work early just to jack off in a gas station parking lot for 2 hours, watching porn in bed next to me when I have to get up for work soon, being unable to maintain an erection without porn-related stimuli (be it watching or scenarios), spiraling into cheating, etc. Years and years of sex positivity, attempts at understanding, experimenting, and accommodating, and communication on my end didn't help, until that communication was "I can't keep trying to salvage this by myself anymore, I'd be happier alone."

Not everyone is going to be down with it, or should push themselves to be, and not all reasons for not wanting that for your own sex life are rooted in some Christian or Radfem rhetoric. Lived experience plays a role in such stances. Strong boundaries can be hard to build when there's pressure in both the bedroom and outside world that the ones you have are 'wrong', but it's worth it to stand up for ones own comfort, security, and happiness rather than endlessly accommodating.

Personally, I'm overjoyed to have now found a longterm relationship now where the furthest extent of that either partner engages with is fanfic and lewd art. I wish everyone the same luck in finding a partner that has compatible desires.

--

~broken dick~

Oh please.

This kind of discussion is obsessed with "porn" meaning mainstream live action porn aimed at straight guys and with the kind of dumbass men who think that stuff is a model to emulate. In reality, there are shittons of types of porn. People who pressure their partners suck regardless of why.

These experiences sound shitty, but I'm still rolling my eyes at this spin.

[imrllytootiredforthis]

VACATION SEX!!!!!! Specifically thinking about either beomgyu or lix for this one idk why they are so cute and would just be so easy to fluster

Like spending the whole day at the hotel pool or waterpark subtly teasing him, eyeing him up in his swimsuit without even hiding it just to see him blush, grabbing his ass when he walks in front of you, “accidentally” grinding up against him in the wave pool bc the water was just too rough before suddenly deciding you want to go tan as he begs to stay in the water a bit longer so he can calm down bc poor baby gets hard from the smallest touches. but of course you drag him out anyway as he pretends he doesn’t like the embarrassment of having to walk in front of everyone with a boner. & sitting him down on the towel to rub sunscreen on his chest and back, paying extra attention to his nipples as he whines that you guys are in public and anybody could see, even though he pushes his chest out into your hands for more (tsk tsk again with the pretending to hate the embarrassment) and also pretending to fumble with the sunscreen and dropping it on the opposite side so you have to lean over him to get it, putting your hand right by his throat for leverage and practically shoving your chest in his face as he whines harder

AND THEN FINALLYYY after a long day of him having to endure all the torturous touches and you making up excuses to stay at the pool longer because it’s funny to see him lose it, you bring him back to the room. and he is already desperate and pliant just waiting to be thrown around and used as your little doll. he’s sitting patiently on the bed as you lock the door and put up the do not disturb sign before turning to him and shoving him down onto the bed, climbing onto his lap and grinding against him like how he’s been waiting for all day. bonus points for a sloppy kissing session with his arms pinned by his head as he can hardly reciprocate bc he’s moaning so much and begging as he thrusts up into your bathing suit, asking in the sweetest voice “please please take it off, touch me, just do anything!” and how can you resist your sweet boy who’s been so patient even though he’s been waiting so long?

and round 2 in the shower afterwards bc you can’t go to bed soaked in that chlorine water… but i had this epiphany while i was scrolling through pinterest and had to tell you. anyway i see that you’re having another busy week, remember to take breaks and relax if things get too overwhelming!! also don’t forget to eat and drink water:) nothing is more important than your mental and physical health

-🎀

thank you so much<3, i'm actually gonna take a break over the weekend so everything i post is queued and i'm just going to relax for the holidays and recharge after everything that's been going on!

honestly, thank you for caring, it feels really good to have people understanding that it takes quite a bit out of my time and is also mentally as well as physically draining,

but anyway,

going on a vacation with lixie, holy fuck, the sunscreen visual you gave me was the best fucking thing in the world,

teasing him all while under the guise of simply keeping the poor baby's skin safe from the sun, brushing over his nipples, smirking as he whines about being and public, begging you to stop all while he keeps pushing his chest further into your touch and you really can’t help but notice the way he’s subtly pressing himself against your knee

whispering to him about how he’s a dirty boy, wanting to get off on your thigh in front of all these people, the little perv

he tries his very hardest not to moan from that, his lip pulled between his teeth, tiny hands fisted at his sides to keep from touching your when you ‘accidentally’ drop the lotion bottle, leaning over his body to retrieve it

after you notice how red your baby is, brushing your fingers over his freckles with a slight frown, cooing about how he’s gotten burnt all while you know damn well the effects you’re having on him. He nods along sullenly, giving his best puppy eyes and you decide to be merciful, saying you should go back to the room now so he doesn’t get more burnt

that do not disturb sign getting put to good use but he only blushes as you put it up, imagining about fifty different positions he wishes you would fuck him in right about now

he’s just so needy when you finally touch him, whining and pawing at your body, lips latching onto your skin wherever they can find purchase.

so sensitive and so worked up, moaning when you finally begin to grind down on him. he swears he can see stars, he’s so pent up from all of your teasing touches and malicious, knowing smiles

his hands rest on your hips, wanting to explore, not wanting to piss you of any further, looking up at you with the sweetest doe eyes

“can I touch, please, please, let me touch, I promise, I promise, I’ll make you feel good, I’ll make you feel so good.”

his lips leave wet kisses all over the top of your chest, a trail of saliva left behind costing your skin

but no, no because you pin his hands above his head, “no touching puppy.”

Poor puppy cries out, as you kiss him, messy and sloppy with teeth and tongue and drool and his tears mixing in, thrusting up desperately

and when you pull away you can’t help but admire how pretty he is, all messed up

“i-I’ll do anything! I’ll be good-I promise I’ll be so good!” He cries

so you take pity, grabbing the phone off the nightstand and handing it to him while you reach over to put the number in.

“okay puppy, call room service for me, make sure to not make a sound and maybe if you do good baby, I’ll give my good boy a reward~”

you slither down his body, pulling his swim trunks down right as a voice comes over the phone

“room service, how can I help you?”

—

sorry this is a bit sloppy and rushed, I wrote it on my phone right as I was about to leave😭