#thread: hide and seek

[diviningtime]

@thecavclry sent: “ it's been quiet. too quiet. ” From Nicky

Usually 'too quiet' was better than 'too loud' but Lilia knew that Nicholas wasn't speaking just about lack of volume; it was something else. An absence that hummed in the air. You didn't have to be clairvoyant to sense that something was off, that the quiet held an unsettling and worrying stillness.

Lilia took a step forward a she looked around, feeling that quiet envelope her.

"Like something waiting..." she agreed.

[photozoi]

Kuhlii loach Hide and Seek

[wickedzeevyln]

Folklórico

Fate has eyes that paves roads and sees how they tangle like a silver thread gleaming under the sun and how they break like ships colliding with icebergs playing hide-and-seek. You and I thoughtfate would anchorits sight on us,but in its bleachedsorrow had it elsewhere,we thoughtwe were dried leavesbracing ourselvesagainst the fresh breathof the autumn breeze—fused pumpkin-spiced latte.Our…

[makingqueerhistory]

Stonewall Book Awards Nonfiction Winners 2025-1971

Some years had multiple nonfiction winners. How many have you read?

Sex With a Brain Injury: On Concussion and Recovery by Annie Liontas (Scribner, an imprint of Simon & Schuster LLC)

Hijab Butch Blues by Lamya H (The Dial Press)

The Women’s House of Detention: A Queer History of a Forgotten Prison by Hugh Ryan (Bold Type Books)

Faltas: Letters to Everyone in My Hometown Who Isn’t My Rapist by Cecilia Gentili (Little Puss Press)

Dear Senthuran: A Black Spirit Memoir by Akwaeke Emezi (Riverhead Books)

Queer Games Avant-Garde: How LGBTQ Game Makers are Reimagining the Medium of Video Games by Bonnie Ruberg (they/them) (Duke University Press)

How We Fight for Our Lives: A Memoir by Saeed Jones (Simon & Schuster)

Go the Way Your Blood Beats by Michael Amherst (London: Repeater Press)

Queer Threads: Crafting Identity and Community by John Chaich and Todd Oldham (Los Angeles: Ammo Books)

How to Survive a Plague: The inside story of how citizens and science tamed AIDS, by David France (New York: Alfred A. Knopf)

Speak Now: Marriage Equality on Trial, by Kenji Yoshino (New York: Crown Publishers)

Living Out Islam: Voices of Gay, Lesbian, and Transgender Muslims, by Scott Siraj al-Haqq Kugle (New York: New York University Press)

American Honor Killings: Desire and Rage Among Men, by David McConnell (New York : Akashic Books)

Raising My Rainbow: Adventures in Raising a Fabulous, Gender Creative Son, by Lori Duron (New York: Broadway Books, an imprint of Crown Publishing, a division of Random House, Inc.)

For Colored Boys Who Have Considered Suicide When the Rainbow is Still Not Enough: Coming of Age, Coming Out, and Coming Home, edited by Keith Boykin (New York : Magnus Books)

Hide/Seek: Difference and Desire in American Portraiture, by Jonathan D. Katz and David C. Ward (Washington, D.C. : Smithsonian Books)

A Queer History of the United States (Revisioning American History), by Michael Bronski (Boston, Mass. : Beacon Press)

Inseparable: Desire between Women in Literature by Emma Donoghue, (Knopf)

Unfriendly Fire: How the Gay Ban Undermines the Military and Weakens America by Nathaniel Frank, (St. Martin's Press)

Dishonorable Passions: Sodomy Laws in America, 1861-2003 by William N. Eskridge, Jr., (Viking)

Dog Years: A Memoir by Mark Doty, (HarperCollins)

Fun Home: A Family Tragicomic by Alison Bechdel, (Houghton Mifflin)

The fabulous Sylvester: the legend, the music, the seventies in San Francisco by Joshua Gamson, (H. Holt)

Evolution's Rainbow: Diversity, Gender, and Sexuality in Nature and in People by Joan Roughgarden, (University of California Press)

Lost Prophet: The Life and Times of Bayard Rustin by John D'Emilio, (Free Press)

How Sex Changed: a History of Transsexuality in the United States by Joanne Meyerowitz, ( Harvard University Press)

The Scarlet Professor: Newton Arvin, a Literary Life Shattered by Scandal by Barry Werth, (Nan A. Talese)

Gaylaw: Challenging the Apartheid of the Closet by William N. Eskridge, (Harvard University Press)

My Lesbian Husband: Landscape of a Marriage by Barrie Jean Borich, (Greywolf Press)

Stagestruck: Theater, AIDS, and the Marketing of Gay America by Sarah Schulman, (Duke University Press)

The Shared Heart: Portraits and Stories Celebrating Lesbian, Gay, and Bisexual Young People by Adam Mastoon, (William Morrow and Co./Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Books)

Geography of the Heart: A Memoir by Fenton Johnson, (Scribner)

Virtual Equality: The Mainstreaming of Gay and Lesbian Liberation by Urvashi Vaid, (Anchor Books)

Skin: Talking About Sex, Class & Literature Dorothy Allison, (Firebrand Books)

Uncommon Heroes: A Celebration of Heroes and Role Models for Gay and Lesbian Americans by Phillip Sherman and Samuel Bernstein, (Fletcher Press)

Family Values: Two Moms and Their Son by Phyllis Burke, (Random House)

Making History: The Struggle for Gay and Lesbian Equal Rights, 1945-1990 by Eric Marcus, (HarperCollins)

Odd Girls and Twilight Lovers: A History of Lesbian Life in Twentieth Century America by Lillian Faderman, (Columbia University Press)

Encyclopedia of Homosexuality edited by Wayne Dynes, (Garland)

In Search of Gay America: Women and Men in a Time of Change by Neil Miller, (Atlantic Monthly Press)

A Restricted Country by Joan Nestle, (Firebrand Books)

And the Band Played On: Politics, People, and the AIDS Epidemic by Randy Shilts, (St. Martin's Press)

The Spirit and the Flesh: Sexual Diversity in American Indian Culture by Walter Williams, (Beacon Press)

Sex and Germs: The Politics of AIDS by Cindy Patton, (South End Press)

Another Mother Tongue: Gay Words, Gay Worlds by Judy Grahn, (Beacon Press)

Sexual Politics, Sexual Communities: The Making of a Homosexual Minority in the United States, 1940-1970 by John D'Emilio, (University of Chicago Press)

Surpassing the Love of Men: Romantic Friendship and Love Between Women from the Renaissance to the Present by Lillian Faderman, (Morrow)

Black Lesbians: An Annotated Bibliography by J.R. Roberts, (Naiad Press)

The Celluloid Closet: Homosexuality in the Movies by Vito Russo, (Harper & Row)

The Cancer Journals by Audre Lorde, (Spinsters, Ink)

Christianity, Social Tolerance, and Homosexuality: Gay People in Western Europe from the Beginning of the Christian Era to the Fourteenth Century by John Boswell, (University of Chicago Press)

Now That You Know: What Every Parent Should Know About Homosexuality by Betty Fairchild and Nancy Hayward, (Harcourt, Brace, Jovanovich)

Our Right to Love: A Lesbian Resource Book edited by Ginny Vida, (Prentice-Hall)

Familiar Faces, Hidden Lives: The Story of Homosexual Men in America Today by Howard Brown, (Harcourt, Brace, Jovanovich)

Homosexuality: Lesbians and Gay Men in Society, History, and Literature edited by Jonathan Katz, (Arno Press) [Series of historically significant reprints]

Sex Variant Women in Literature: A Historical and Quantitative Survey by Jeannette Foster, (Vantage Press)

The Gay Mystique: The Myth and Reality of Male Homosexuality by Peter Fisher, (Stein & Day)

Lesbian/Woman by Del Martin and Phyllis Lyon (Glide Publications)

A Place for Us by Isabel Miller, (published in October, 1971 by McGraw Hill as Patience and Sarah )

[phannetasm]

The rarest of flowers // Alucard x fem!reader

𓆩𓁺𓆪𝒄𝒘: fluff, reader works in a brothel, mirror on the ceiling, mild male yearning. this is very self indulgent and it's been a while since i last wrote something but i needed to write a lil something for my wife (Alucard). wc: 1.9k, part 2

Unlike other men he met during his life, Alucard didn't frequent brothels. He’d never understood how people could partake in such sinful activities and thought such practices deplorable and beneath him. The mere idea of buying someone like a commodity, of using them for one's own pleasure was sickening, scandalous.

But when fate placed you, a woman of the night in his path he couldn't help but indulge in your pleasures. Perhaps it was the loneliness, a moment of weakness that led him to your bed that fateful night, but he never anticipated you would captivate him so thoroughly. Leaving your tender embrace the next morning felt almost sacrilegious, but the promised whispered against your lips soothed his aching heart. He'd come back, he swore, once his journey came to an end and he could safely return to Paris. Little did he know your paths would cross much sooner than expected, the pursuit for Sekhmet's mummy leading him back to the city only a few weeks later.

It was close to midnight when he reached Paris with his companions. The journey was tiresome and they needed to lay low, to hide from Erzebet's spies. Much to his surprise, Richter and Annette didn't question him when he pushed open the door of the brothel, motioning them to walk inside. The two descended the narrow steps of the establishment, looking around curiously.

"This is quite... distasteful." huffed Richter, stepping closer to Annette when a girl attempted to approach him.

"We cannot risk being discovered now and no one will look for us here." spoke Alucard, seeking you from the corner of his eye but couldn't spot you in the parlour. "The matron will offer you a room to rest." he added, pointing at the older woman in French robes hastily making her way over to the them, shoving the girls blocking her way like flies. The rings and bracelets on her arms tinkled when she grasped Alucard's gloved hand, shaking it lightly– a wide, wine stained grin on her face. "So good to see you back, my boy. Tell me, how may I help you?"

"My companions need a room" spoke Alucard, hiding his embarrassment at the woman's familiarity. He slowly slipped his hand from hers, reaching for the pouch of coins looped around his belt. "They should remain undisturbed for the night. We will leave shortly after sunrise."

The woman nodded, her eyes trained on the coins the dhampir dropped into her outstretched palms. After inspecting them thoroughly she hid them in her breast and guided Richter and Annette towards a room. But before the two could turn to ask Alucard where he'd be staying he was gone. He silently slipped through the shadows of the salon, avoiding all patrons on your way to your room. He could already smell your scent from behind the wooden door, his fingers twitching in anticipation as he pushed the door open. And oh how his gaze softened when he laid eyes on you, seated on the cushioned seat in front of your vanity, brushing your hair. You lifted your gaze, meeting his in the mirror, a smile tugging at your lips.

"You're back" you whispered, raising from your seat, your silky dress wrapped around your figure shining like molten pearls in the candlelight. He welcomed your hug, his eyes closing when he dipped his head to the nape of your neck and inhaled your scent– smoke and lilacs, oh so enchanting.

"I had to see you, my lady." he hummed, tracing his fingertips down your spine. With slow steps you slipped away from him and he took off his gloves, letting you hold his hands. "Where have you been?" you asked as you made your way back to the vanity mirror, picking up your comb and threading it through your hair. The dhampir sighed, his golden eyes fixed on your reflection; when you brushed your hair over your shoulder he could see the faint shadow of the healed indents where he had bitten you weeks prior. Leaning behind you he brushed the marks with his thumb, his fingertips cold against your heated skin.

"Machecoul, helping some friends" he answered plainly, his hand slipping down to your shoulder. After so many years of solitude, touching another seemed otherworldly. "Helping some friends" you mused, a flicker of a coy smile on your lips. "Is this about your endeavour? Do tell me about, I'd love to hear."

Alucard hummed, his eyebrows pinching together in disapproval. He didn't wish to burden you with his worries, to mar the sanctity of this moment with tales of gods and the undead. No, that was not what he came here for. Tenderly, he took the comb from your hand and placed it on the little desk, resting his head against your shoulder. "I do not wish to speak of such things, my sweet. It is none of your concern."

You knew better than to press the matter so you nodded, raising from your seat. Alucard's firm tug on your dress was enough for you to know that you should undress so you slowly undid the bow that held together the cloth. Alucard's gaze darkened imperceptibly for a moment, his lips parting for him to take a slow breath in.

"How do you wish to do it tonight?" you asked as per usual, but the dhampir huffed in response, your words bringing him back to his senses.

"Spare me the protocol, my sweet. I only wish to rest." With deft fingers, Alucard peeled off his garments and joined you in bed. The mattress dipped under his weight, the candles dimming as if blown by an unfathomable force while he loomed over you. You didn't waste any moment to slide your arms around his neck, seeking to meet his gaze in the dark. The dhampir's hair brushed against your shoulders, his hands guiding you flush against him as he laid on his side. "How long will you stay?" you asked, slotting yourself against him, your bodies fitting together like two pieces of a puzzle.

The dhampir cradled your head and you felt a pair of cold lips press against your forehead. "I shall depart tomorrow morning."

"So soon?" you pouted, craning your neck to meet his gaze again and Alucard's heart panged when he saw the hopeful look in your eyes. "Yes, my sweet. I must go, but I will return soon."

He could tell by the way your shoulders tensed that his answer displeased you and he sighed, bringing your mouth over his. An unspoken promise, a consolation, a plea for forgiveness; his arms tightened around you as you kissed, his fangs grazing your lips when he pulled away.

"The people speak of a revolution" you added, voice hushed as if you were sharing a secret. "They speak of death and devils coming down upon us from Hell. Is it true?"

"Yes, 'tis true" he snarled, turning on his back as he draped a hand over his eyes. "I'm afraid dark times are coming, my lady, but we will break through."

"How can you be so sure?"

He needn't see you to know you had that defiant look in your eyes. Despite his fears and your worry, Alucard couldn't help but chuckle lightly. "I have lived for three hundred years and seen many revolutions. Fear not, my sweet, everything will be alright."

"For you maybe..." you muttered, earning a sigh from Alucard. Returning to his side, the dhampir pulled you into another kiss, pressing you up against him. His hand slip to your bare thigh, nails leaving shallow marks on your skin as he pulled your leg over his hip. "Do you not trust me when I promise you'd be safe?" he hummed against your lips, golden eyes peering into yours and you shook your head.

"I trust you, but I still fear for my life here. They are killing people in the streets, the food is scarce and–"

Alucard's hand on your mouth silenced you but your protests soon melted into soft sighs as your lover trailed kisses down your neck and chest, halting just above your heart. He could hear your heart skip a beat when he placed a kiss on your breast. "You needn't worry about food, shelter or your safety, my dear."

His reassurance calmed your plaguing thoughts and you sighed, nodding softly. Alucard's hand moved to your cheek, cradling you face. The look in his eyes when he leaned back over you was of the most tender. "I have arranged for your stay somewhere safe. An abbey in the mountains. You will be well fed and taken care of. A friend of mine will take you there in two days at dawn."

For a moment you held his gaze, searching for any traces of deceit but his words were honest. Slowly, you nodded gratefully, your arms tightening around his neck.

You could taste the love on his lips when he kissed you again, your heart swelling, feeling as if it would burst our of your chest. Tugging him closer, you managed to force a tired smile when he rested his forehead against yours. And so you laid, suspended in the dark, with Alucard murmuring sweet words in a language unknown to you, but you didn't need to understand to know he spoke from the bottom of his heart. You could feel it in the drawl of his voice, the steadiness of his breath, the touch that conveyed his deep devotion, his soul bared for you to see and treasure. Closing your eyes, you let his words flow through you, like a balm for your aching heart.

"I wonder what the nuns will say when they find out they have to share quarters with a whore." you chuckled eventually, earning a small huff from the dhampir. He laid by your side, drawing you in and closed his eyes. His hand smoothed some stray strands of hair on the crown of your head before slipping through your curls. "Such silly worries you have, my sweet. They needn't know of this."

"Then what should I tell them when they ask about me?"

The corners of Alucard's lips twitched lightly in amusement. What should you tell them indeed? That you were the most pure hearted, precious thing he'd ever had the privilege to call his? That you were his newfound hope in the sea of despair the world was sinking in? That you were the one who touched his heart like no other mortal has in centuries? No, of course not. You couldn't tell them the thing he didn't have the heart to confess to you yet. So with a sigh, he smiled up at the ceiling, his eyes drifting along the reflection of your tangled bodies in the mirror. "Tell them your wildest dreams, sweet lady, and we'll make them true one day."

[aspid-of-roses]

Arcane 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞!𝐕𝐢𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

First post 🖤

Yandere!Viktor who is intoxicated by the scent of your skin, a warmth that seeps into his soul like the sun breaking through the fog at dawn.

Yandere!Viktor who buries his face in the crook of your neck on his worst days, eyes shut tight, seeking refuge in the steady pulse of your heartbeat. It’s not just comfort—it’s proof. Proof that he’s here, that you’re here. And you’re not leaving.

Yandere!Viktor who doesn’t hide his ambitions with the Hexcore from you. He doesn’t need to. Not from you. You would understand, wouldn’t you? You must understand. Who, if not you, could see the importance in his vision?

Yandere!Viktor who yearns for you to look at him the way he has always looked at you—with awe. It’s foolish, yes. Selfish, absolutely. But why should that matter? Why should anything matter? His world has boiled down to two essential truths: his hexcore dream and you. And in his mind, they are one—inseparable, unable to exist without each other.

Yandere!Viktor who breaks when he realizes he might never accomplish his goal. Guilt festers, corroding his resolve. Torn between the morality he once clung to and the all-consuming, scorching need to be worthy of you. You deserve more, he tells himself. But who is he if not the man who will, who should, become more—for you?

Yandere!Viktor who hears your voice in the depths of the Arcane’s thrall. No hallucination could be so clear. It’s you. It has always been you. Your voice is a beacon, threading through the labyrinth of his mind like a guiding star. You’re calling him, pulling him back, pleading for him to stay. How could he deny you?

Yandere!Viktor whose first instinct upon breaking free is to seize your wrist. His fingers press against your pulse, feeling the blood move beneath your skin. Every beat. Every shift of bone and tendon beneath his touch. It’s real. It’s all real. You’re real. You’re his.

Yandere!Viktor who exhales with a shudder, his voice trembling as if every breath could shatter him. “I came back,” he says, his eyes searching yours. Not for validation—he doesn’t need it anymore—but for the simple reassurance that you see him. Him. Not the machine. Not the Hexcore’s vessel. Him.

Yandere!Viktor whose mismatched, rainbow-tinted eyes never leave you as you lean in. Tears cling to your lashes, filling your already bloodshed eyes. You’re beautiful—so unbearably beautiful—even in pain. Especially in pain.

Yandere!Viktor who traces the curve of your lips with his long, deft fingers. The contrast of cold metal and arcane flesh against your warmth stings on your skin. His eyes flicker down to your lips, then back up to meet your gaze. He sees no fear there. No rejection. Only you.

“You called for me,” he murmurs, voice low, reverent, and unyielding.

“And I came back to you.”

[doinkbunny]

✧₊⁺ THE RED MEANS I LOVE YOU 𝜗𝜚

𑁯 Yandere ENA admiring reader.

ᵎᵎ.˖ꪆ𖠵꒷ Pst! Cherry says: In which you ramble like a kid to ena but she's too distracted admiring to pay attention. This fic was fueled by my absolute adoration with this silly girl, i need her so baddd so i might make another fic like this if this gets enough attention. (There's mlp reference in this btw.)

.ᐟ.ᐟ.ᐟ Warnings: Obsession (duh), possessiveness, Meanie is almost cracking while salesman is on her last thread.

𝜗𝜚 Type: Fluff, romantic, one shot.

｡𖦹°‧ Song: Lovers rock.

"Beautiful, so beautiful," she felt so fuzzy anytime she looked or talked to you.

That's one of the many, many things you were doing to her, and there are so many reasons why. She loved the way your lips moved, the way you'd subtly increase the intensity of your gesticulation whenever you got too excited talking, and even when you would accidentally choke over your own words.

She was head over heels for you. It was quite the exquisite scenario, even: someone making the unforgivable and chaotic ENA grow a feeling or two. And obliviously.

You were sat with ENA near the lake, your hands moving random circles and squares in the air, your feet touching the water subtly with some of your hand movements while you intensely ranted to her, your excited tone never wavering.

And so did Ena's continuous admiration.

As you kept going with your explanation of some type of pony cartoon, Ena couldn't help but admire the way you looked so excited to talk to her, of all people. Most people would have distanced themselves once they heard the rumors about Ena, but you? No, you were different.

And maybe that's why she's so hooked, because you treated her like a human, something visible and with feelings—the bare minimum.

And only God knows how that made her feel good.

You made her feel something she'd never felt before so spontaneously, it was almost soul-bonding, and that's when she immediately knew you two needed to stay close.

To her luck, you actually enjoyed her presence and would often seek it more than she wished for, consequently making her need to see you satiated. That was good.

What was bad, though, were the times she'd have to stay away from you—unwillingly, making her miss you almost immediately.

These times would come so suddenly, and not only because of her stupid jobs from her deplorable job. Sometimes duty calls for you, and then, she'd be forced to just let you go.

While her salesman side was good at hiding her frustration, Meanie was almost combusting from the inside out, forcing Salesman to take control in order to avoid any... mistakes, letting you go so easily but hesitantly.

And once you're gone? That disgusting sensation of longing to feel you once again would fill her quite quickly; that would make any hidden frustration pop out like a balloon under any slight pressure.

Ena can't handle it—she wants you so badly. Your detailed and well-rendered polygons against her badly loaded ones makes her feel so less nauseous.

Gosh, she wishes she could just—

"Ena?" A voice calls out, her name catching the desired attention; hers, shutting down the continuation of her previous thought quickly, her head jerking slightly from on top of her palm that was supporting it before, her eyes landing on the source that called her name.

You.

Her signature smile popped on her face rapidly as once her attention was back to the world outside her thoughts, erasing any trace of possible tension.

"I'm sorry, my dear, I've gotten quite distracted by my own brain. What was the topic of the conversation, again?"

"Oh, nothing, just a silly show about ponies and friendship... What were you thinking about, anyways? You looked pretty deep in thought."

You curiously and somewhat worriedly asked, gaining a different type of endearing smile, a little short laugh, and a light pat on your head from Ena, her eyes closing ever so slightly with the smiling.

"I can assure you it's nothing but some silly reflections. Don't worry your pretty little head."

Word Count: 382

[crowsofdarkness]

You've been braty all evening and suggest a fun game to play with Bucky: Hide and fuck.

18+ CW's below the cut( mask kink, protected pinv since she's on the implant, oral with both male and female receiving, fingering, masturbation, choking, degradation, rope play/bondage, making of a sex tape, rough/possessive sex, and slight voyeurism)

a/n: ok I fully understand that Bucky wearing the mask post winter solider is somewhat traumatic but in this little universe/fic, Bucky is trying to get over the trauma by replacing that feeling of fear with something different.

My breath was unsteady and echoed loud in the confined space I found myself in. Surely Bucky had to be returning to our room soon, it had been hours since I left him at the bar with Steve, now almost ten in the evening. As soon as I came back to our room, I went about showering off the long days filth and slipped into a new piece of lingerie I’d bought a while ago just never found the perfect time to wear it. 

Until now. 

All night, I’d been teasing Bucky by whispering all of the filthy things I wanted him to do to me. More so, I wanted him to chase me and fuck me. Unfortunately even with the size of our room, there still wasn’t enough space for Bucky to hunt me down so I had to settle with a simple game of hide and seek. 

Or as I called it in the text I sent him: hide and fuck. 

I managed to fit myself in the large wardrobe dresser that we had in our room, the ones that were tall enough where I could sit inside of it somewhat comfortably. The scent of my peach perfume, Bucky’s favorite,  clouded around me as I sat with my knees pulled to my chest. Just when I was about to give up, tired of waiting, I heard the insert of a key card into the slot and the door clicking open. I had left the light on in the main area of the hotel room so some of it could cast a light into where I was hiding but with a soft click, everything was blanketed in black. 

Bucky’s back. 

Holding a hand over my mouth, I tried so hard to remain quiet even though I was beyond giddy with excitement that he had agreed to this. I knew that this was also supposed to be a therapeutic exercise for him. A way for him to see himself in his old Hydra mask and come to terms he’s not that person anymore. 

Although he was afraid, we both knew that those words that controlled him were long gone. No longer programmed. Even if he wore the mask tonight, Bucky wouldn’t become the soldier. 

His footsteps were so light, almost nonexistent, as he moved around the room. I could feel his presence as it halted in front of the wardrobe and before I could register what was happening, Bucky ripped open the doors and yanked me from it. 

My body fell to the floor with little damage and I quickly scurried away from Bucky only for his fingers to wrap around my ankle, dragging me back to him. His large body loomed over me, lust filled eyes and his lower half of his face was covered by the mask.  His breathing was all I heard as I stared up at him. He wore nothing but the mask and black briefs, hanging low on his hips. The light colored hairs of his happy trail brought a tender smile to my face. 

“Found you,” Bucky growled as his palms traced over the thin white lace of my lingerie, his eyes growing even darker. 

“I-I guess you did,” I stammered while he climbed on top of me. 

WIth his hips locking me in place, Bucky reached over my head towards a bag I hadn’t noticed before and riffled through it. My breath caught in my throat when I saw the rope between his hands, him threading it between his fingers. 

Bounding my hands to my ankles, Bucky went about tying them together with the rope, checking how tight it was before letting the game slip away for a moment. 

“Too tight?” 

I shook my head. “I promise, it’s fine.” 

He took off the hair tie around his wrist and gathered my hair away from my face and into a ponytail. His vibranium finger grazed over my cheek, forcing my eyes to meet his. 

“If you ever want to stop, say red,” he said quietly. 

“Okay,” I breathed, understanding the usage of our new safe word. 

With my hands and feet bound together, I let out a squeal of laughter mixed with shock as Bucky lifted me from the ground, carrying me like a tied animal over towards our bed and roughly tossed me onto it. My ass was up towards the ceiling, barely covered by the lace I wore, and his nostrils flared when he leaned over my lower half, still donning the mask. 

“You smell so good,” he praised while kneeling on the bed. 

“Peaches,” I informed, reminding him of my perfume. 

Bucky hooked a finger into my panties, shifting it to the side so he could brush his nose along my wet folds. 

“Oh,” I murmured when I realized what kind of smell he was referring to. 

Due to how I was tied up, I wasn’t able to look down and see Bucky between my legs, but I could feel the faint brush of his tongue over my clit and I pulled on my bindings. 

“One more thing,” Bucky said before slipping away from me to rummage around in my suitcase. 

I turned my head towards him. “We don’t need a condom. I’m on the implant, remember?” 

He ignored me, still rummaging around in my bag until he spun quickly on his heels towards me holding onto one of my camcorders. 

“Sex tape?” I asked with a teasing edge to my voice. 

Bucky’s lips curled up after he ripped off the mask. “A fucking sex tape.” 

After making sure it was fully charged and set up on the dresser across the bed with the perfect angle, he was quick to be back at the foot of the bed, kneeling on the floor. 

“I want to taste you so fucking bad, doll. Will you let me?” 

My head fell back to the mattress with fluttering eyes. “Please.”

Yanking my panties to the side again, Bucky was quick to devour me, teeth and tongue all over my core. My body writhed against the bed as he took turns between my clit and folds with his tongue before ultimately wrapping his lips around my sensitive bud and forced two vibranium fingers inside of me. 

“Shit,” I panted as the orgasm was quick to build. 

I’d been on edge all night waiting for him and I knew it wouldn’t take me long to reach there. Bucky momentarily removed his fingers from me to press the fullness of his tongue against my folds, licking me up from the bottom to the top.

"Fuck," I moaned when his tongue speared inside of me for a few strokes, before replacing it with his fingers again. 

Bucky’s lips wrapped around my clit to bite and suck at the bundle of nerves. He ate me like a man starved as was offered his final meal before death. The familiar burn at the base of my spine made me call out his name; in a praise and a warning. 

“So close,” I keened. 

Bucky’s arm held up my legs that were still bound and since his mouth was a little preoccupied, he smacked my ass with the hand that was holding my panties to the side. 

Let go, doll. 

I came with a shout, grinding myself against Bucky’s face as he licked and finger fucked me through the aftershocks. 

“Shit,” I choked on a breath when he pulled away only to rise to his feet, yanking down his brieds, now standing in front of me in nothing but the mask. 

I pulled on my bindings, yearning to touch him, but let out an aggravated cry when I realized how tight he tied them. 

“I need to be inside you, doll,” Bucky admitted while grabbing a hold of my ankles with one hand and guiding himself inside of me with the other. 

Both of our groans of pleasure tangled sweetly together and Bucky, who stood at the edge of the bed now, slammed into me with such force, it shook the headboard against the wall. The sound of skin on skin was heaven sent, along with the image of Bucky’s head rolled back, mouth open as he let out pants of air in tangent with each of his thrust. They were brutal, nearly bruising, but I reveled in it. It awoken a fire deep inside of me that from now on needed to be set ablaze. 

“So.” 

Thrust.

“Fucking.” 

Thrust. 

“Tight,” Bucky groaned as his hips stalled for a moment and I watched as the muscles in his stomach constricted. 

He was close but was trying not to tumble over the edge so he slipped out from me. Before I could protest, he was climbing onto the bed towards me. He lifted my head up, wrapping my hair around his hand to force my mouth towards his cock slick with my arousal. 

“Open that pretty little mouth,” he demanded, yanking on my scalp. 

With glittering eyes gazing up at him, I parted my lips so he could force himself inside. He ignored my gagging as he hate fucked my throat with such a bruising grip on my hair, I was sure it would be sore for days. Drool pooled from my mouth and around his cock, dripping down to my chest. 

“Such a good little slut,” Bucky smacked my cheek with the hand that wasn't tangled in my hair. “You love the way you taste, huh?”

My yelp of shock was drowned out by his cock as he repeatedly hit the back of my throat. I could taste myself on it, the tangy arousal lingering on my tongue. But soon I was gasping for breath when Bucky pulled himself from my mouth to grab a hold of my chin, bringing his face mere meters from mine. 

“I asked you a question, doll. I expect you to answer it.”

I did the best I could to nod with his tight grip but it wasn’t enough for him so he tapped my cheek again. 

“Words. You need to use your words.” 

“Yes,” I blurted. “Yes, I love the way I taste on your cock.”

“That’s my good girl,” he praised before forcing his cock deep inside my throat again. 

This time, he didn’t hold himself back as he spilled himself inside of my mouth. 

“Don’t you dare swallow,” he spat through gritted teeth as he held the back of my head, letting my tongue glide him through the aftershocks. 

I held his seed in my mouth, long after he fell to the bed next to me, only to reach into the bag he brough, pulling out a knife. My eyes widened but unable to speak, I held my breath. 

Bucky brushed his lips over mine. “You can swallow now, pretty girl.” 

Obeying him, I let out a breath and motioned towards the shiny blade. “I think this is a step too far.”

He let out a low chuckle before reaching for my bound legs and hands. “Relax, doll. I’m just cutting you free.”

Tattered rope fell to the bed and Bucky quickly brought the red, irritated skin to his lips, peppering it with kisses. 

All I did was hum and as we laid there, Bucky’s fingers grazed up and down the inside of my thigh, leaving goosebumps in his wake. 

“I hope you know I’m not finished with you yet,” was all he said before he yanked me off of the bed. 

As we passed by the camcorder, Bucky turned it so it could face out towards the balcony of the hotel room. 

“Bucky!” I nearly screeched when I noticed the somewhat busy street just a few floors beneath us. 

He spun me around so my back was against the railing, the city lights painting us in a luminescent glow, and traced a finger down the front of my lingerie. 

“This is new,” he noted. 

I shivered with not only his touch, but the cool breeze that passed over us. 

“Do-do you like it?” I asked, nervous. 

“I love it so much, doll, that I’m going to fuck you with it on,” Bucky husked before holding out his hand, spitting on it. 

He pumped his already hard cock a few times, dragging the extra skin over the head and let out a spew of curses. Gathering some of my arousal between my legs, he worked me open again with two fingers before replacing them with his cock. The rough metal of the balcony dug into my back as Bucky dragged himself nearly all the way out, slowly fucking me with the head before thrusting all of him inside of me again. It went like this for a few moments, my bottom lip caught between my teeth because the feeling caused my skin to prick. I squeezed against him, swallowing his length in warmth and our hips began to move in sync.

“Shit,” Bucky rasped while leaving dark, bruising teeth marks along my neck and shoulder. “You feel so good, doll.”

His fingers wrapped around my neck while his thumb forced my jaw up towards him. I went to slip a finger between us but Bucky slapped my hand away, a growl of arousal slipped through his lips.

“Mine,” he whispered.

The pad of his thumb pressed against my bundle of nerves and with the fast and relentless pace he had chosen now, I felt the coil deep in my stomach begin to tense, my second orgasm so close.

“Yours,” I breathed. 

Our bodies slammed against each other, skin slapping against skin, and the wet noises that came from the place we were connected were so filthy that I was ready to let my body go, walls tensing around Bucky’s cock. He lifted his forehead from my chest and forced our gazes to lock again, my arm wrapped around his shoulder to bring him closer, thumb rubbing circles on his bicep. His eyes took in every inch of my face, burning with the way I gasped silently when I felt the tip of his cock hit that spot. 

“Bucky,” I pured. “I’m going to-.” 

My orgasm ripped through me, causing the words to falter, and I shook in his tight embrace. The night air did nothing to cool my heated skin. 

Bucky removed his bottom lip from the tight grip between his teeth as he let out a deep but quiet moan as he painted my walls with his cum. Lifting me into his arms, I wrapped my tired legs around him as he carried me back into the bedroom and tossed me onto the bed yet again fixing the camera in a different position. 

“I can’t,” I shook my head when he reached for the buttons of my lingerie. 

Bucky kissed a tender kiss on my shoulder. “I know you’ve got one more in you, doll. Don’t you want to be a good girl for me?” 

More than anything. 

I was exhausted from my two orgasms, how was he not? Peering down to his cock, I noticed it was nearly hard yet again, the sight of it alone causing my gut to twinge with anticipation and I licked my lips. 

Damn super soldier serum.

“I thought you can't,” Bucky mocked my voice from earlier, causing me to narrow my eyes at him. 

“Shut up!”

The sound of fabric ripping echoed in the room, my lingerie falling away from my body and I screeched while smacking his chest. 

“This was new, asshole!” 

Bucky shrugged, throwing me down to my stomach and lifting my ass in the air to lay a swift smack against it with his vibranium hand. I scrambled to get away from him which prompted him to force the top half of my body against the mattress with one of his hands while the other smacked my ass yet again. 

“Fuck! Bucky!” I bit back the tears as he laid a third smack. “Pl-please.”

“I’ll stop when you apologize for what you called me,” Bucky’s voice was dark, gone with the lust that consumed him. 

For the briefest of moments, part of me feared the monster I had awoken in him but when the pain soon turned to pleaser, I let out a quiet moan afraid he would hear. His large hand rubbed at the red skin before pressing a kiss. 

“Does the pain turn you on, doll? Hm?” Bucky spoke into the skin of my lower back. 

I grasped at the pillow, pulling it close to my chest so I could muffle my answer into it. Which only seemed to displease him because he sunk his teeth into the extra flesh of my hip, making me cry out my answer. 

“Yes! I need it to hurt!”

Wrapping an arm around my stomach, Bucky lifted me up onto my knees and to face the large mirror in the room that was hung across the bed, right next to the camera; still blinking red. I gasped at my reflection of tattered pieces of lingerie hanging on to me still by a thread, mascara running down my face, purple bite marks littered all over my neck and shoulder, and lips faintly bruised from how hard Bucky fucked my throat earlier. 

He knelt behind me and brushed his nose along the shell of my ear while trailing the pad of his thumb over the pulse point of my throat. 

“You look so pretty like this, doll. Marked up as mine so everyone knows who you belong to,” he dragged his teeth along the crook of my neck, breathing me in. 

“God, I fucking love the way you smell.”

His fingers pinched and pulled at my nipples, making my head falter back onto his shoulder.

“What do you want, baby?” Bucky palmed both of my breasts now before trailing a hand down my stomach to spread my legs wide for the reflection and mostly the camera. 

“You,” I breathed. 

Bucky said nothing, instead he slipped two fingers past my slick folds where the head of his cock was slowly gliding up and down. Gathering up not only my arousal but the little bit of precum that beaded at the slit, he brought those fingers to my lips with one simple order. 

“Lick.”

I took both vibranium fingers into my mouth without objection to lap up the tangy mixture of us and hummed greedily. I took them as far as I could without gagging and Bucky showed me how proud he was of me by sinking himself deep inside my pussy. His strokes this time were languid, taking his time with me as he worked me up with his fingers down my throat and the others spreading me wide. 

“That’s it. Take all of me. I can feel your pussy clenching around me, you’re so wet,” Bucky’s pace began to intensify as his words were urging him on. 

One hand wrapped around my throat while the other strumbed against my swollen nub, bringing me closer and close to the edge of destruction. 

My own words were gone, forever lost in the bliss that overtook my body. My soul succumbed to Bucky, allowing him to drag every part of my essence down with him to the darkness. This was a side of Bucky I’d never expected to see and now that I had a taste of him, I wasn’t letting him go. 

“I love you,” I moaned as I allowed the waves of pleasure to drown me as I soaked Bucky’s cock with my orgasm. 

He stilled his movements and sucked in a breath before forcing my face to look into our reflection of the mirror. 

“What did you just say?” 

I blinked a few times, trying to regain myself after the intensity of each after shock, and when Bucky’s grip on my chin tightened, I winced. 

Oh shit. 

I had just blurted out that I loved Bucky.

For the first time. 

Shit. Fuck. God damn it. 

We’d only been dating for a few months and I was suddenly very afraid of how Bucky would react. It was clearly way too soon to be dropping the I love you bomb. 

“Doll,” Bucky’s voice was firm as he shook my face. 

Staring at his reflection, I let the words fall from my lips again. 

“I love you.”

The hard lines on his face softened as he let the proclamation settle for a few quiet beats and just before I could find myself questioning everything, Bucky let out a guttural groan, wrapping an arm around my stomach to pull my back closer to his chest. We were pulled flush against each other as now Bucky used the new angle to buck up into me, hitting the spot each and every time. 

My body was drained and I could barely keep myself afloat in his embrace as the bed shook beneath us, creaking with every snap of his hips. Skin on skin bounced off the walls, overpowering the sounds of my quiet cries, and Bucky bit down hard on my shoulder. 

“Fuck, doll. I love you too, so fucking much. You’re mine, you hear me? Your heart, your soul, this fucking pussy? All mine,” he snarled as he filled my cunt. 

“Ah! Shit!” I cried out louder this time when I felt the teeniest prick of blood from Bucky’s bite into my neck trail down between my breasts. 

We both fell onto the bed, a heap of sweat and cum, and Bucky immediately wrapped me in his arms. He continued to proclaim his love for me while dragging those vibranium fingers up and down my spine, lulling me to sleep; all while the red light from the camera continued to blink. 

[muzansfangs]

Mojito + Douma & Kokushibo

Devotion.

Starring: Douma x f!reader; Kokushibo x f!reader; Douma x f!reader x Kokushibo; mention to Gyokko and Muzan;

Format: one-shot;

Warnings: nsfw, threesome, public sex, dom!Kokushibo, dom!Douma, sub!reader, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, anal penetration, double penetration, bitemarks, hair pulling, reader is a demon, manhandling, blood drinking, violence in battle, consuming humans, dispicable use of blood as a cosmetic, kind of sacrilegious scenary (sex in the shrine area);

Plot: As one of Douma’s most loyal followers, you had some privileges. One of those was being turned into a demon and trained to climb the ranks of the Upper Moons. When Gyokko died, Muzan chose you to take his place. In the middle of a training session with the leader of the Eternal Paradise Cult and the Upper Moon One, you accidentally hit them with your blood demon technique: aphrodisiac blood. Pinned down by your comrades, you were demanded to show them your devotion.

Drink chosen: MOJITO (double!penetration, threesome, anal sex, vaginal sex, marking the partner);

MASTERLIST FOR THE EVENT | RULES FOR THE EVENT

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

The Moon glowed solitary in a starless dark sky. Under the pale light provided by the satellite, you were sitting on the cold stairs of an ancient shrine, forgotten by the neglectful humans who had built it centuries ago to probably appease the divine wrath of their god. Ivy and dirt blanketed the abandoned building, now deemed a pit of demons and curses by the local folklore. Pitiful. It was nothing but pitiful. You grimaced at the thought of the typical human inconsistency and stupidity.

Still, not long ago, you were a human too. Some memories from your past life still flashed in your mind. Who were you before you turned into a blood-thirsted creature? You were a devoted young girl, living in a Temple in which people disappeared mysteriously from their beds in the dead of the night. It was a ritual, or this is what the Leader of the Cult wanted his followers to believe. Those humans were doomed. Their naivety and faith were their downfall. However, while he deliberately manipulated the whining mass of people seeking protection and blessings from him, he had never tried to hide his identity, his nature, to you. Loyal to him, you had always stood by his side, not manifesting horrified expressions, when he devoured people in front of you. Your fingers were usually threading through his silky platinum blond hair, whilst he fed. Humming sweet melodies for him, helping him to bathe, you had gradually become his life companion, or something close to it. Along with the favors and attentions he required, he did not abstain from asking you to indulge into the bed with him.

Satisfying your Lord, though, did not feel unpleasant. There was something enthralling about the way he broke you down and built you up.

To show you his gratitude, Douma had therefore turned you into a demon to preserve your beauty. It was amusing how you had inheridated some of his characteristic. Your nails, pointy and lilac, were among them. Your devotion intensified. By the time you had trained enough to be capable of not shaking in front of Muzan Kibutsuji, Douma had suggested him to make you one of the Twelve Kitsuki. You felt on top of the world, the glory of finally standing at the top ensnared your senses and you gladly complied to the King of demons’s order to show your loyalty to him.

Standing up now, you detected the subtle attack coming from your left. Dodging it was easy, the golden tessen aiming at your neck cut a mere strand of your hair. You smirked, kneeling a few feet away from your opponent. Pearly fangs shining under the moonlight, Douma waved his hand at you casually.

“Ah, you’ve become so agile, Y/N-chan!” Douma stated, as you casually approached him with a soft smile on your red-painted lips. He, only he or another demon could say what it was smeared over your mouth.

His hand gripping your hair and straining your neck made you wince. His tongue darted out of his mouth, lapping at the dried blood you used to decorate your lips. Your clawed hand gripped his cheek, nails digging onto the smooth flesh enough to pierce his flesh and draw blood. You had become so much rougher with each other since you had become the new Upper Rank Five. Your animalistic and savage nature had kicked in, surprising your carefree friend to some extents.

“And you are perpetually needy” you whispered, lips hovering over his, before you ungraciously shoved him off of you and caused him to tumble onto the ground.

Douma was fascinated, watching as you rested your bare foot on top of his broad chest and bit down onto your wrist. Oh, how much he loved feeding from you. The sight of your crimson blood dribbling down your skin and splattering onto his face made his cock throb into his pants. The need to be inside of you was unbearable. The Upper Moon Two diligently opened his mouth, tongue welcoming the drops of blood you were so generously letting drip from your wound. Once again, you were subservient, indulgent.

His hand slided up your naked calf, squeezing it suggestively, rainbow-colored eyes locking with yours as you sighed and decided to cruelly deprive him of your proximity, of your intoxicating blood.

Douma groaned, pushing himself up on his elbows as your skin regenerated quickly “Ah, come on, what did I say to piss you off now?” he asked you, but he did not receive an answer from you, because the air around the shrine suddenly became asphyxiating. Your eyes grew round, your knees almost buckling under the pressure, upon ascertaining the Upper Moon One had joined you two. You were expecting him to come; whenever Muzan gave orders, he was the only one who never failed his expectations.

Bowing your head respectfully at the highest rank of what remained of the Twelve Kizuki, you greeted him “Kokushibo-dono, it’s a joy to welcome you here. We were just waiting for you to begin” you cooed, breaking the eeare silence enveloping the area.

You knew nothing about him, beside his sense of honor and an incommensurable admiration for the progenitor of your specimen. A rational, taciturn man who hardly ever barged into the unimportant squabbles taking place among those below him. What mattered to that man was the impertubable balance of powers.

An high-pitched gasp from behind you, caught your attention and, in a blink of an eye, Douma was standing right next to you “Ah, Kokushibo-dono, it’s been so long! You have declined all of my invitations to visit my residence… It’s a shame, really! Recently, I’ve taken in a couple of lovely girls. I looked forward to share them with you” the Upper Moon Two ranted, that fake overjoyed smile curving the angles of his lips upwards, while he sneakily swung his arm around your waist, yanking you against his side.

You sighed, a pout on your lips, before you searched for Kokushibo’s gaze to begin your training session. While you were more than capable of taking down a Pillar on your own, you still had some troubles in controlling your blood demon technique and, with the incoming war, Muzan wanted you to be extremely proficient, impeccable. Letting you train along the two strongest demons alive was the best way to improve your skills.

The former Demon Slayer sized you up, hand resting onto the hilt of his katana out of habit “Y/N. — he greeted you, his six bloodshot eyes then darting on the tall man at your left — Hard times require total concentration. There is absolutely no time to slack off and indulge into sordid, deplorable activities. Get in position” he sternly said, causing the younger demon to sneer and plant a kiss on your cheek before distancing himself from you leisurely.

You had no idea of the specific schedule he had chosen for you, yet the moment your nose was pierced by the fragrance of human blood, and your ears heard heavy footsteps rapidly consuming the road leading from the woods to the shrine, you put the pieces together. You looked at Kokushibo, not surprised by his lack of an explanation. Slayers. Those humans running straight to their death were Slayers the Upper Moon One had purposefully conducted to you.

“Oh, is that food? Please, tell me pretty girls in black uniforms are coming for us…” Douma chimed, his smile broadening as he tried to take a step towards the dark forest.

Kokushibo’s gesture of the hand, though, was enough to stop him from doing anything more than watching the scene unfold before his dreamy eyes.

Being the center of the attention had never been more difficult than now. Your eyes scrutinized the area, your nails ready to rip to shreds whomever had the audacity to attempt to slice your head off of your shoulders. A few seconds passed by before you spotted the group of young Slayers running towards you. Ready for battle, glaring at you, they unsheathed their blades. Six humans, not exactly weaklings, craved your head. But before you could just charge at them, Kokushibo spoke out again.

“Use your technique. Focus solely on it”.

His deep voice, for some reason, sent shivers down your spine. Probably, you were just enthralled by the massacre about to take place in the holy territory underneath your feet. Or maybe you were already losing control. Nevertheless, you quickly switched your attention back on the youngs group of humans in front of you.

“Good evening” you cooed, smiling faintly at the now shaking people looking at you and your frightening friends in horror.

“Upper ranks… We’re dead. Tell the crows to send a Pillar” a female Slayer blurted out, sweat beading her forehead as she frantically looked at both her sides in search for possible ways out of this situation.

“A Pillar? Are you fucking blind? We need more than a Pillar here!” her comrade said, eyes not leaving your frame as you sighed and shook your head. It was pointless. What could three Pillars do anyway against three upper ranks? Nothing.

Your eyes glinted, your hand caressing the cheek of the female slayer who had suggested to call a Pillar. You heard them gasp, when they realized you were standing practically among them, not fearing their deadly blades at all. You were blatantly challenging them, awaiting for the right moment to devour them. You giggled, before you disappeared from the small circle around you, holding the young fighter in your arms before you speaking again. Back in your original spot, you were running your fingers through the silky black hair of the girl, her body writhing under your touch as you leaned your face down to your let your lips graze her earlobe. It was time to satisfy your whims and you did not hesitate to activate your technique.

“Blood demon art: the human puppet” you whispered, the white sclera of your eyes fading into black.

Before your victim could even register what was happening, blood threds connected to her joints and she naturally dropped to her knees in front of you. Adoration in her eyes, she hugged your legs, the effects of your aphrodisiac blood driving her nuts.

“What’s happening? What did she do to her?” the head of the group snapped, trying to assess your reactions to figure out what your power could do.

Honestly, you were having fun. There was no pressure of ending things quickly for once. You had all the time in world to enjoy your minutes of glory and you did. You smiled at the girl at your feet, clasping your hands together as you listened to her words.

“How can I serve you?” she meekly asked you, cheeks flushing up as you hummed and gestured at her friends at her back, hunger for blood making your mouth salivate, albeit you tried to get a grip of yourself.

“Those people have offended me. Why don’t you kill them for me?” you asked, watching in glee as she hastily picked her sword back up and sprinted towards them. Ready to defend themselves, the slayers cursed your name as the group had apparently decided to split. You watched in interest three of them charging at you, homicidal instinct in their eyes, while the rest of them sparred with their comrade.

All the while, you had felt Douma and Kokushibo’s eyes on you, studying your moves, contemplating your choices and strategies. They had not bothered helping you out and they did not seem interested in it anyway, at least, until a disaster happened. Trusting blindly in your abilities, you had waited too long before activating your technique. The moment you did, you were forced to block the slash of a slayer with your forearm. The impact was powerful enough to cause your blood to spill, accidentally splattering on your two colleagues faces, staining their lips and inhebriating them.

Faltering, you had no time to apologize that a katana sliced through your opponent’s head. The thud of his body colliding onto the ground was followed by the screams of terror and agony of the others. Soon enough, you were surroundered by bunch of dismembered corpses, no more sounds echoing in the calm forest, if not… Heavy breaths, grunts of frustration. Affected by your technique, the upper moon One and Two were staring right into your eyes, their fangs protruding from their gums, ferally hissing to fight the primal urges of dominating the weakest prey in front of them. It was your fault. The second form of your blood demon technique was literally called ‘primal lust of the hunter’.

Taking a few impish steps back, you tried to comfort them “I promise the side effects are going to wear off in a few—”.

“How long?” Kokushibo growled, planting his sword onto the ground. You had never seen him like that.

“Kokushibo-dono, I… I—”.

A sudden grip on your forearm, yanking you towards them, made you gasp in sheer embarrassment. That look in their eyes, that way of staring you down in hunger promised nothing less than a long night of submission ahead of you.

“How long?” the Upper moon One hissed on your face, his grip on your forearm intensifying, until you confessed the truth.

“Until you reach the peak of your ecstasy” you blurted out, earning an hysterical laughter from Douma, who grasped a fistful of your hair and encircled your waist with a hand. His abs glued to your back, he rotated his hips against your rear, the clothed bulge underneath the layers he wore poking at you with unbridled hunger.

You shuddered, closing your eyes “I can help you! I can help you both!” you fretted, body on fire as their hands began to undress you with urgency.

Probably, this was the biggest mistake of your life, but the famous thing that happened once ever in a lifetime too. Lips devoured yours instantly, the guttural groan escaping Kokushibo lips made your disclose your lips automatically to let his tongue invade your mouth. Your hands threaded your the former Slayer’s hair, tugging at his ponytail to squash his body against yours. Fangs sank onto the crook of your neck, your whimper swallowed by Koksuhibo, as Douma hand slipped underneath your ripped kimono and masterly cupped your sex.

How many times had he done that to you? So many nights, so many nights but not a single one of them could compare to what he was making you feel right now. Douma always took his sweet time in tearing you apart, but his thumb did not indulge much on your throbbing clitoris.

You whined in protest, only for him to take a step back and unbuckle the belt of his pants “Sorry, Y/N-chan, but I feel… Oh, my sweet gods, I feel like I could burst into my own pants, if I don’t fuck that pretty hole of yours. Not much prep today, okay?” he rasped out, sweat running down the valley of your breasts along with the blood still dribbling down your collarbone in irregular crimson lines from his harsh bite onto your neck.

When the Upper Moon One pulled away, his hands discarding his robes onto the ground, finally granting you the celestial sight of his chiseled body, you struggled to keep your composure: the body of a warrior, the body of a divinity. The body of a man who had trained for centuries, in the desperate chase to proclaim himself the strongest slayer alive.

“Her womb is mine” he declared firmly, causing your knees to buckle, when he grasped your hips and made you straddle him easily. Douma surprisingly did not retaliate, kneeling right behind you instead as his hand slipped down between your thighs to collect some of your juices.

He growled, the pads of his fingers collecting the result of your wanton before smearing them onto the entrance of your puckered hole. You writhed, glancing at him from above your shoulder, before pulling him into a sloppy kiss “You better worship the ground I walk on after this” you whispered, only for a pathetic whimper to leave your lips as Kokushibo’s calloused band grasped your jaw unceremoniously and turned your head towards him once again.

“He’s your superior, but I personally don’t see the number one etched in his eyes” the man darkly said, pushing his hips against yours and witnessing to the way you came to realize his hakama were now loosely hanging down his hips. His cock, standing as a ramrod, was probbing at your entrance with arrogance, his free hand angling your hips to favor the penetration.

“I apologize, Kokushibo-dono. — you breathed out, arching your back as he lined the bulbous tip on you clenching hole — Douma and I are familiar with this kind of entertainment” you explained, breath hitching in your throat when the blond man at your back began to slide a finger into your backside to stretch you out a little. He was seething in anger, frustration of not having the chance to paint the welcoming walls of your pussy in white, as he always did.

The Upper Moon Two smirked “That’s right! I think Kokushibo-dono will absolutely love to hear how much of a slut you are when you are stuffed so full of cum that you twitch like a fish dying on the shore” he remarked, your eyes screwed shut as you felt your tight walls swallowing his fingers into your most private parts.

Were you going to be able to walk after this? If they actually injured you, was your demonic regeneration going to heal your wounds?

“Enough talk” Kokushibo flatly said, unsympathetically pinching your right nipple to hear you squirm under his ministrations as well.

And, gosh, you did. What made him groan out in pleasure, his stolid mask slipping, was the way your pussy squeezed him up perfectly when he entered you. Hands planted onto your hipbones, Kokushibo guided you up and down onto his length. The girth had almost made you regret your choice of taking care of their impellent needs, but the way he occasionally let the head of his cock kiss your cervix made you cry out loudly, shamelessly, your head lolling back on Douma’s shoulder as he also began to slide into you.

You had no idea how you had managed to, how your body had adapted to that tempo, to the way they were manhandly you, but when Douma had filled you up to the brim, his pelvis slapping against your arses, you knew you had showed your devotion to them.

“Fuck! I— O my God… — you whimpered out, vision blurry as tears ran down your cheeks copiously — K-Koku, Koku, I can’t” you inhaled sharply, only for him to snort at your face, a powerful thrust causing your whole body to collapse against his.

“It’s Lord Kokushibo to you”.

His words, vivid in your mind, were the only thing you remembered hearing from him after they were done with you. Panting, a mass of sweat and fluids, you were sandwitched between them. Kokushibo came deep into you, arms almost possessively keeping you in place, his gestures so cold and methodical. You wondered, you wondered if a long time ago he had been married, if he had fucked her with the only intention of impregnating her because you were damned if he had not given you that impression.

Douma was breathing heavily, tongue lapping at the umpteenth wound he had left onto your neck, as he softened into you. He had not pulled out as well, you could feel his sperm oozing out from your abused hole as you barely had the energy to nuzzle your head into Kokushibo’s chest.

He did not caress you, neither said a word, but he allowed you to rest like that for a little while. Your training had just begun.

AUTHOR NOTE.

A big thank you to the anon who had submitted this request! I said it once and I’ll say it again: writing threesomes is amusing! Also… I might have a thing for Douma, that’s pretty evident by now. Thank you for your support and see you in the next work!

Likes, comments and re-posts are greatly appreciated!

x o x o

Dt: @doumadono @mrskokushibo my angels✨❤️

TAGS: @axesfordays @flakeygod @tomatoeshater @areyouflying @bakugosgirl01 @crystal-freak24 @the-nex @squ4respace @akazas-left-tatted-butt-cheek @wooyugta @ilubplants @the-faceless-bride

[anantaru]

EX HUSBAND WRIOTHESLEY

— ꒰ synopsis ꒱ — ex! husband wriothesley headcanons

— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — [ex]plicit, fem! reader, reader is referred to as "wife", a little sad, unprotected syx, hitting it raw, very rough fucking lmao, love sick & feral wriothesley, very messy too

ex! husband wriothesley who will hesitantly accept your upsetting decision to file for divorce, and to nullify your earnest promise— nonetheless, it's evident that it was crushing him through the very inside, the pain your words caused had invited him to explore the enormity of sorrow. however, do not be fooled because he won't show it to you, meaning his pure and real emotions, instead wriothesley will decide to verbally jester around about the current happening to brighten up an otherwise daunting interaction between two past lovers.

it was to no avail, the agony festering on his facial expressions and there was nothing in his life worth remembering other than you and a concealed shade of his past— yet, the last thing he'd want to happen was to lose you entirely, signifying that if he was to put his foot down and tell you that he doesn't want the divorce to happen, it probably doesn’t mean much after all.

ex! husband wriothesley who will reminisce about past events in front of you, your first kiss or that one particular date where he asked you to marry him, just small, little details about you that only your ex husband knew of— but, he'll do it in a subtle way, sneakily sprinkling it into a conversation in hopes you'd get a dash of sudden yearning as well— the same he did whenever he casted his mind back towards the good, old days.

ex! husband wriothesley who will speak in riddles to you, keep his quick-witted demeanor in order to fool you into thinking that he was doing quite well after the divorce was fulfilled— and his intentions weren't in wanting to make you feel bad, sorrowful or even jealous. no, not at all. in fact, he thought that if he was to hide his raw emotions and genuine feelings in front of you, you wouldn't feel awful about your decision and were able to continue living a normal life, yet without him.

ex! husband wriothesley who promised you that he will take off the ring that symbolized your once passionate marriage— but will behind your back grab a necklace to loop it inside the precious metal, so he could always wear the ring around his neck, secretly hiding it from your eyes to see while holding on to it whenever he found himself in trouble, or saddened.

ex! husband wriothesley who feels helplessly confused still, harshly drawing back for air as he let a brittle thread of a nervous laughter go when you suddenly ask him if he wanted to remain friends with you, which— in truth, he didn't, and the second after you proposed that insane idea to him he thought you must be joking, or that you surely must've lost your mind (which would make the divorce explainable).

it goes without saying that the real reason as to why the duke didn't seek out to befriend you, had nothing to do with the feelings he harbors towards you suddenly dissolving, it's quite the opposite because he was so helplessly in love with you, archons, he was bloody obsessed with you.

certainly, he thought that such friendship between two past lovers would only cause injury to you both in the end, for the main part to you who he cared the utmost about.

aside from the fact that even now, when he notices how you steadily keep your distance from him, at all times, it breaks him from within.

how cold it was when all ex! husband wriothesley sought after was your gentle caress and delicate kisses, he longed for an opportunity to just swiftly hush you with one step, raw and earnest trapping you against his strong arms while pressing his lips on top of yours when— oh, he does it again, he was indulging in fantasy, gradually yielding to an alternative version of you two ending up together.

in the duke's own words, he believed that love should be warm, a sweet addiction, a magic gifted by the universe, so why— just what had went so terribly wrong that he was struggling to understand it? you should just say you do not care for him, tell him you feel nothing so he can walk away, or maybe, regardless he will stay.

ex! husband wriothesley who despite you both being apart now, remains faithful to you, protective and nurturing to your every needs— because it was simple as that— for the duke, you are his shining sun, and will still remain it to his dying day.

to his crushed and painful body, your caressing trace was his only medication, and your smile? it was the light to his broken heart, for that is what he had called a warm love.

ex! husband wriothesley who noticed how the natural warmth surrounding his body had but faded completely as his mind began to gather around great negativities— perhaps he was flawed and that's the reason you left him all along, cursed to feel the deep sadness slither through his veins like a freezing liquid conquering his body as he shuts himself off for a while, until he can recollect himself again that is.

ex! husband wriothesley who had inappropriate thoughts enter his mind whenever he thought about you— here is to note that he utterly disliked the way his brain just so happened to work and how he wasn't able to shake off those strong and vivid fantasies playing in his mind on repeat.

but how can he not dream about his wife? well, ex-wife, which in his memories was pressed under his large figure exposed with your breasts on full display, his hips working constantly to please you just the way he knew you liked it.

because you see, the duke knew your body, in and out, one might even assume he knows it better than you do. and he still has a couple of your panties left in his drawer— in fact, he wanted to return them, please believe him, but he found himself to be quite busy these past weeks that he must've simple forgotten to do so.

ex! husband wriothesley who at some point, cannot live like this anymore and was desperate to see you again. after your marriage had crushed, you weren't visiting the fortress of meropide anymore and as the duke was rarely leaving it himself, it could've been the perfect situation to move on from each other, yet he simply could not do that, not when you were constantly on his mind.

ex! husband wriothesley who will find courage and leave the fortress to visit you at your new place, in fact, the mere sight of the duke exiting the underworld was rarely seen, so the guards figured that it must be of graven importance— as invisible and weightless as your love for him might be for now, in the middle of the night he walks out to find you, taking in a last view at the fortress  before an itching impatience got the better of him. 

he just had to see you, now.

ex! husband wriothesley who will show up at your doorstep and suddenly admit that he cannot do this anymore, that he felt incredibly miserable and heartbroken, confessing his undying love and affection towards you, using words he had once spelled out to you the night you had gotten married.

"night and day, i dream of you," wriothesley yells, as if there had been nothing left to his choice, the sight of your glowering eyes and those soft, frowning lips he just misses to kiss.

"and there is not one corner on this world that you could possibly travel to in order to free me from this torture," he adds forbiddingly.

through dark eyelashes, wriothesley stares at sudden tears welling up in your glassy eyes, a sharp amenity invading your cheeks as he places his palms on top of them in order to brush your warm tears away. "you're mine," he said, the corners of his mouth slightly quirking upwards, his hot breathing lingering around your gasping lips, "and not even a divorce can change that."

ex! husband wriothesley who places a delicate splatter of warm and passionate kisses on top of your lips the moment you pull him by the collar of his shirt, his surprised growl turning into a stifled cry when you wrap your arms around his neck in order to keep him close to you, together stumbling into the coziness of your home as one hand was firmly placed against your back, his mouth eagerly parting as your lips welcome the teasing slide of his tongue lapping across your own.

ex! husband wriothesley who will hiss upon revelling in your soft fingers tracing over his twitching muscles when you undress each other, his disheveled hair accentuated with a fond smile as his hands trail down the sides of your face, leaning his hungry lips against yours again, the lingering, familiar scent of your fragrance penetrating his nostrils turning him needier, on the brink of passing out.

ex! husband wriothesley who loves hearing you only reply in soft and crumbled whimpers of his name slipping past the edges of your tongue as he cannot wait to feel you— fuck, and neither can you wait to feel him again, a clashing pressure on your hot core narrowing the space between your bodies as he lines himself up with you, your nails slithering down his chiseled back as he slides into you abruptly, your neglected cunt instantly welcoming him.

and you squeal out in pleasure as he thrusts into you, the maddening scent of his musky perfume persisting around your shivering frame as wriothesley hooks one leg over his shoulder, the squelching sounds of your wet sex echoing throughout the entire bedroom just signalizing how much you must've missed him as well, his addicting gaze always flickering across the way your body reacted to him.

ex! husband wriothesley who shoves himself further into your soft cunt— and you're just so unbelievably cute and adorable at your desperate attempts to silence those candid whines and mewls of his name. one of his hands was now placed on the headboard for additional support as to not suddenly suffocate you with his large body towering above before he increases the pace on your cunt, setting for a deep and fast rhythm that would surely stay engraved in your walls even after he's done.

ex! husband wriothesley who kisses you like a starved animal as your tears tickle the soft features on his face, your hidden emotions running wild at the sheer passion he unlocked in you, his erection throbbing harder as he groans into your lips, triggering every last one of your nerves in your body and infusing them with persisting vibrations— now, you're gasping at the lack of oxygen in your lungs as his constant thrusts into you drove you deeper into the mattress, if that was even possible, considering the fact that your whole body had been caged in between your bed and wriothesley's frame towering on top.

ex! husband wriothesley who chokes back a desperate growl as he sought out further friction, growing feral, then hissing sharply as his sensitive cockhead reaches into your deepest parts, his shaft all the way sucked in by your used pussy lubricating him so he can ram himself in and out of you harder, slick pooling out of your hole whenever he pulls out only to press back inside with one quick snap.

ex! husband wriothesley who worships your body, making you feel every thick vein as it throbs violently against your walls, your thudding hole making him lose his mind on how you're convulsing while he curls into you— your swollen cunt tensing and releasing, grinding up a little as thick, white cum gathers at the base of his cock, his mesmerizing eyes glued on the creamy spot that was showing him just how much you enjoyed this too.

ex! husband wriothesley who resumes his fast tempo, your teeth rattling with every new impact of his hips bouncing against your flesh blanking your mind into pure paradise— your moving bodies couldn't stop anymore as you're fucking each other well over the limits of your endurance, drool dribbling down the corners of your mouth as wriothesley was fucking your cunt desperately, unhinged and making it a point to rock your hips in and out along a particular angle that you'd always squeeze over the rigid veins prancing on the underside of his shaft.

ex! husband wriothesley who exhales heavily when you tell him that you're close, his hips pressing and digging into your sensitivity once more before lifting you off the mattress, chasing your relief like a wild beast that he so graciously wanted to see unfold— low profanities and fast tumbles of his name falling from your lips as your thighs begin to shake and ache, your throat turning dry— you're done for, and wriothesley just fits so perfectly in you, into every curve, every spongy spot and every bump inside that you're so painfully full, crowded and overflowing of his thick shaft.

you're hiccuping due to the pressure he presses into your sensitivity as you're way beyond your own limits now, at last feeling a twitch and quake as your body pleads to cum, his grueling thrusts aiding you when you violently convulse around his length, a sharp intake of breath breaking every other noise in the room when you cum all over his cock, your orgasm hitting you hard, wriothesley continuing with slow, language thrusts until you've rode out your high.

the duke was being eager to watch it all happen, something primal at the back of his mind manifestikg when the sudden constriction of your fluttering hole made him grunt lowly against your ear, rolling his hips nearly painfully hard between your legs before dragging himself away, cumming inside of your walls and marking you up for good with his warm, sticky cum.

ex! husband wriothesley who watched you being short of breath, and couldn’t resist looking at the mess between your legs, your abused cunt twitching around his girth as your pussy flutters around nothing, your legs were quivering with a combination of your essence and his seed oozing out of your hole, staining the silky bedsheets.

ex! husband wriothesley who'll press himself back into you with one sharp snap, leaving his cock in so you could clench and throb, small thrusts turning sloppy and sticky with his dampened bangs glued on his forehead as he kisses the tip of your nose before embracing your pouty lips again, your mouth partly open as you whine out, your sensitivity spiraling of his cock still being nestled in you, his shaft already hard and thick again, your battered cunt jolting underneath him.

wriothesley smiles, "it is maddening, how much you consume my very being, my love." and speaks through his heart.

© 2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[whosashan]

WELCOME!

Welcome, fellow Love and Deepspace fans!

This blog is dedicated to writing about the LaDS men —hope you enjoy your time here!

TAGLIST IS OPEN, TO ENTER GO TO THIS POST

REQUEST GUIDELINES

I have only a few rules:

I will not write content involving pedophilia, incest, zoophilia, or any similar themes.

I’m open to trying suggestive content, but I’m unsure about writing explicit smut.

Regarding topics related to mental disorders: You’re welcome to send in requests, but I can’t guarantee I will fulfill them. I want to ensure accuracy and avoid mischaracterizing any illnesses

Unfortunately, I don’t have as much free time as I used to, so responding to requests and posting in general may take longer than before. However, please don’t worry if I haven’t gotten to your request yet—I read and acknowledge every submission! Thank you for your patience and support. 😊

MASTERLIST

Sour - Part 2 of "Bitter"

A year has slipped through your fingers like sand, carrying away the sharp edges of bitterness— or so you thought. Yet, the past has a cruel way of resurfacing, and when you stand before your former lover once more, the question lingers: has time truly softened the wound, or does resentment still simmer beneath your skin? (all x non-mc!reader; based on a request)

──────────────────── ౨ৎ ────────────────────

Bitter

Watching the one you love partake in what you once pleaded to share—a quiet betrayal—feels like an arrow through the heart, swift and merciless. (all x non-mc!reader; based on a request)

──────────────────── ౨ৎ ────────────────────

SELF-DOUBT │ PART 2

Part 2 of "Self-doubt" - comfort!! (all x reader; based on a request)

──────────────────── ౨ৎ ────────────────────

Hugs Are Mandatory

Lately, your boyfriend had become impossibly dramatic—and hopelessly clingy. What's the reason for that? (clingy!all x gn!non-mc!reader)

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Me? Jealous?

Watching your new coworker grow a little too familiar with your boyfriend sent a sharp, unwelcome heat curling in your chest—an emotion you’d never dare to name, let alone admit. (Xavier x mc!reader; based on a request)

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Sneakyyy

What did you expect when you woke your lover up in a panic, telling him to hide because your “boyfriend” just got home? Are you ready to face the consequences? (all x gn!non-mc!reader; based on a request)

──────────────────── ౨ৎ ────────────────────

WAS IT LONELY?

Xavier telling you a "bedtime story" when you have trouble sleeping. (Xavier x gn!reader; based on a request)

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EVER AFTER, ALWAYS

You had known Caleb your entire life, yet never could you have anticipated this moment—standing before the altar, heart pounding, as you awaited the moment your lives would be bound together, not just for a lifetime, but for eternity and beyond. (Caleb x fem!reader; based on a request)

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BUGGED AND BELATED

You're trapped in your room, locked in a silent battle with a bug that’s far too aware of your fear. Every move you make, it counters. Every escape plan, foiled. Dinner will have to wait—this thing might actually win. (all x gn!reader; based on a request)

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SELF-DOUBT

Doubt creeps in, unraveling the fragile thread between you, pulling you further from him before anything even takes shape. (relationship not established) (all x reader)

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Oops..!

Caught in the tide of the moment, you let your true laugh escape—unfiltered, unguarded—for the first time in their presence. (all x reader; based on a request)

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AFTER THE STORM

Part 2 of "Who do you love?" - As the sting of hurt and betrayal begins to soften, a quiet longing stirs—you find yourself wanting to seek them out. (Rafayel & Sylus x mc!reader)

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WHO DO YOU LOVE?

Doubt coils around your spine, relentless and unshaken, until the question slips free—do they love the person before them now, or the ghost of who you once were? (all x mc!reader; based on a request)

──────────────────── ౨ৎ ────────────────────

FEELS LIKE HOME

Your life together, in its quiet, domestic rhythm. (all x reader; based on a request)

──────────────────── ౨ৎ ────────────────────

PINKY PROMISES AND BUTTERFLY KISSES

Cute, random scenarios with them. (all x reader)

──────────────────── ౨ৎ ────────────────────

OUT OF SIGHT, OUT OF MIND

You notice their distance, the subtle avoidance, and decide it’s time to confront them. (all x reader)

──────────────────── ౨ৎ ────────────────────

THE LITTLE THINGS

How they show you their love. (all x reader)

──────────────────── ౨ৎ ────────────────────

I'VE GOT MY EYES ON YOU

How you started dating. (all x reader)

──────────────────── ౨ৎ ────────────────────

HIS BRIDE

How would it be to be Rafayel's bride? (Rafayel x reader; based on a request)

──────────────────── ౨ৎ ────────────────────

SILENT TREATMENT

How would they react when given the silent treatment by you. (all x reader)

[ladybyakuya]

| BE SWEET TO ME. + soshiro hoshina, gen narumi, reno ichikawa, izumo haruichi. 

+cw. — f!reader,explicit smut, canon typical elements, established relationship, masturbation, voyeurism, exhibitionism, s&m themes, s&d dynamics, oral acts. +syn.— sometimes missions take days, even months but when they return home to find you in a very awkward position; you never knew that being caught while touching yourself could be so exciting. +wc. — 2k

+notes. — i became a lil bit selfish and pushed my hubby!hoshina agenda. | redirect to blog navigation.

• soshiro hoshina.

The shared bedroom of you and your husband is now filled with yearning, stifled moans, and cries seeking his presence. It has been a month. A month without your freshly wedded husband, a month without his touch, a month without . . .  

The house is mostly empty with both the brothers being at work. The ground floor is as usual bustling with servants and staff that work specifically for the clan but in this wing, on the second floor where you and your beloved husband reside, there is nothing but you, your yearning, and loneliness. One of your arms travels down in between your legs. It is almost instinctive, curious even. The hand that you hold against your face after it has just grazed your entrance is glistening with proof of your yearning for him. 

At the very next moment, your hand slips under your kimono again your middle finger finding its way inside you. You could feel yourself clench around your finger but as you slowly start to move your fingers, in and out, your folded legs start to pull away from each other. You lean back against the heap of pillows stroking your finger in and out. Head now arching backward while your finger movements have changed, trying to find the pinnacle of this insanity whilst moving up and down, to and fro, each stroke slightly stronger than before yet you can not seem to place a finger on it, like hoshina did on wedding night. 

Click! Your body jolts, sitting up straight, legs rested one over the other toes almost touching your butt as your thighs aligned as you sat sprawled beautifully like the arch of the neck of a Swan. It is a good thing that you are wearing a house kimono, so easy to carry, so swift to hide the lewdity. My God! Oh, how Hoshina has missed his beautiful wife! 

Still, he acts curtly.

“C’mon, why did you stop?” Hoshina walks towards the bed and sits at the edge of the bed. His body facing away from you yet his head is turned towards you. You could not speak. You could not think. You might have been holding your breath. Yes, you must. For how long has he been standing there? Since the moment you closed your eyes or . . .Hoshina extends his hand to cup your face. His touch is rough, and full of strength on your skin. As he squeezes your cheek a little bit while running his thumb over your slightly parted lips, you curl like a cat under his touch. “You’re here. I — I was just surprised,” you whisper.

“Go ahead. Finish what you started,” You suck in a breath upon hearing his demand. It is not like he has not seen you. But touching yourself while he is still here, getting yourself off while he is all ignored . . .is not right by him nor is in accord with the duties of a wife. But Hoshina happens to think otherwise. Seeing you like this, like a flower in blossom, unaware of what to do he could not help but grab the wrist of your arm that was underneath your robe a few minutes ago. He licks your slick-soaked fingers clean off whispering, “C’mon make those wet again!”

• gen narumi.

“Why did you stop?” Narumi interjects as all your senses and movements come to a halt for moment. His lips are practically thread away from your mouth. There is a visible tent in his underpants yet he refuses to pay attention to it. He would rather focus all his attention on you, who is currently sitting on his thigh without any underwear but the short tee is still intact. Narumi could see how aroused you are. Your nipples are prominent even through the cloth. You have been practically humping his thigh since he walked into the room. How dare you? How dare you use a dildo in his absence while he has been holding himself back, keeps playing games so that he just does not end up giving in to the urge of jacking off in the toilet late at midnight, especially after stressful meetings. That thing? That cylindrical thing— he takes that an insult to him on his manhood. 

“Weren’t you humping the plushie I gave you?” You were desperate. He was gone for a whole month, leaving you all alone with your yearning and that damn plushie that reminded you of him everytime you hugged it or barely glanced at it.

Gen goads into you further. .. .his head arching, eyes landing on your nape as he wet his lips with the tip of his tongue thinking of, yeah, just thinking of kissing you, marking you. “Narumi please.” you plead hands being clammy due to being held by him at the back of your waist while his other arm rests on his thigh. He grabs the dildo that he kept it on the side table and turns it on. It starts to vibrate in the air and the buzzing sound is nothing but a sound of shame for you now. “How many times . . .” Narumi takes it closer to your entrance and he can feel your skin flexing upon his thighs. “Just how many times did you use it?”

You can not answer that. Not that he would be angry or disappointed if he knew the number but its just that it was his fault that you are here in the first place, so close to your orgasm yet feels like a foreign dream. You just wanna cum while Narumi refuses to give you that until you answer. The only touch between him and you is his show case of strength on you while you drag your lower body up and down his thighs.

“When you send a selfie.” 

Narumi’s hands drop like a withered petal of an old flower that is way past from its bloom. The dildo hits the ground and its still vibrating. Yeah, probably you could have answered that question better it seems. 

“I was barely naked.” He said with such a flat face as if that skin tight suit with mask on, droopy eyes with such a morning face would not turn you on. 

“Oh! Shut up,” You finally snap breaking free from his garb and before he could counterattack your lips were already on his, no resistance, no fighting for dominance just wanting.

• reno ichikawa

There was no funny business for Reno when it came to you. He has informed you earlier that he would be home today so that your heart and body fills with hope and want before he decides to take claim of both But when he saw you through the slit of the door it made him a little dizzy. The drawing room was dark and the light coming from your room was the only source of light. He would have stumbled upon the plant pot if he had not been so habituated with coming home to you after every mission. He takes slow but eager steps to see if the sounds that are coming from your room is really what he thinks it is. Ren stands against the shadow of the door for a while letting the fact sink in that you actually gave in, that you actually listened to him. 

Reno did not think you would. He did not think you would be ready to listen to him without him nagging for it till you give in. It has always been like this so why would he expect anything different this time? But maybe being away from home, for whole thirty days and that too due to mission sure affected you in ways that went far and beyond his imagination. Sure, he thought you would miss him, call him late at nights despite your share of workload, even send pictures maybe nudes sometimes but he never thought you would be busy in your room preparing yourself for him. He suggested the idea just an arrow in the forest but he had no idea it would reach you yet it did. 

It did reach you and now you are on bed trying to suppress your moans by cupping your mouth and legs apart from each other as you push and pull the dildo he parceled while he was away. Seeing you like this, so eager and ready for him has already spiked his heart rate ten times than his normal heartbeat. He opens the door and your lust-filled gaze, glazing sweaty skin is now only for him to soak in.

“Reno—” you moan his name in between working the dildo into your pussy. “What are you waiting for?” Those unrefined movements of your hand, the posture, and the lingering tears in your eyes suggest nothing but the fact that you are new to this. 

“Did I make you too long?” He asks letting his bag hit the floor with a thud and getting on to the edge of the bed. You barely give him a nod with a ‘hmmm’ and the next thing you feel is his lips on yours, soothing the wait, rewarding the ‘good girl’ in you while pulling out the dildo out of your pussy. Your muscles flex around the air as Reno deepens his kiss. He then straightens up, undresses himself, and throws the shirt somewhere on the floor before getting on his knees to hook his arms on your inner thighs. He laps his tongue against your pussy once and peers at you and since you don’t say anything he puts his lips to work this time.  

• izumo haruichi

Izumo thought he would surprise you with his return but his plan had a boomerang effect on him instead. Indeed, you were never the one to be fond of surprises to being with so it already seemed like a gamble to him. But just when he was about to enter the shared bedroom, he heard you: moaning and whispering. He would not mistake your voice even though it has been a month since he properly heard you, heard you like this, calling out his name voice laced with lust. 

The way you are moaning he could imagine in which position you are touching yourself, even how close you are. He hesitated to ruin that approaching high, after all he hates it when you do it with him.

Now, he is standing outside the room leaning against the wall while you are inside the room. The presence of wall has never been excruciatingly painful before. The door of the room is slightly parted giving him enough access to hear your voice as he zips down to take his member and relieve himself from the pain while you are drowning in pleasuring yourself. 

“Fuck,” Izumo hisses under his breath as he clamps his fingers around his cock, his thumb lightly tapping on the tip of his cock. His pleasure stems out in strings, sticking onto his hands. A month full of missions, thirty days without touching himself, saving himself for you so that when he returns home to you he is all you can have, he is all you could imbibe. Of course, there were times when he was tempted to touch himself and it was always in thought of you. But he did not rather he wanted to save himself for you. It is always about you, always has been but standing outside the room while jerking off as he hears you calling out his name mind warped in insanity, desperation, and pleasure. He can enter the room if he wants. Albeit! he can barge into the room and give you what you need and in that process subside the tide that was high in both of you.

But seeing you so desperate, so needy, and that too for him fills him with immense love for you, reminds him of his days during the mission where he would find himself submerged in the thoughts of you, unable to touch you, unable to hold, and not wanting to channel it through him by getting himself off. It must be frustrating, right? To be consumed by need so much that you forget everything but the source. You just need to hold on a little longer. He can tell that you are just a few strokes away from reaching the peak. He is too. . .he thinks  . . . he has now sat down on the floor with his legs sprawled apart as he strokes his cock in quick and rough motions. He wants to cum with you, not after, not before but when you do.

[orlesianhennin]

I really feel like so many people who hate Vivienne for being power hungry do not fully grasp and appreciate the desperation that Vivienne feels because she conceals it so well… as little content as she got, she honestly is expertly written and presented and it’s why it disappoints me so much when people hate her for surface level reasons… her writer deserves so much more appreciation.

I think it is subtle because she hides it and you really have to care about the character to seek out these threads and understand her motivations… she is in danger of total irrelevance, being cast aside by society (and history), and she is forced to ride the coattails of some upstart organization because all of the institutions she is invested in have either totally failed her or cast her aside.

She is clearly a prideful person who does not readily admit this… but her true talent is how clearly she can evaluate this and understand her own position. She suffers no delusions. She knows the Circle’s standing in society is diminished to nothing if it doesn’t house and account for the majority of mages, and she is left with just meek Chantry loyalists and sycophants who are lost without her guiding hand, as even otherwise pro-Circle mages with any sense have abandoned ship and left both rebels and loyalists at this point to see where the chips fall (Ellandra) - and the Chantry itself has been all but decimated in terms of military and political power. The one lifeline she has is the Imperial Court, and the fickle nobility have moved on from her - the mages are now a threat that she cannot control or offer any meaningful opposition to, and Celene’s favor has turned to Morrigan, and Vivienne does not know if she will ever have it again. She knows Bastien is dying, and that all that she has left at court will be those who hold kind feelings towards her such as his family, and that is a position she can never accept - being at the mercy of others.

We meet Vivienne, this impressive, powerful mage, who has made a life for herself by maneuvering brilliantly, all to improve her own standing, at a point where she is in danger of losing everything she has. And she doesn’t let on, at least not explicitly, but she joins the Inquisition out of desperation - it’s obvious she sees it as an opportunity, but the gravity of the situation for her isn’t clear from the start. She refuses to lay down and fade away. Vivienne would never had joined this fledgling upstart organization if she was in a better position at Court or there wasn’t a vacuum of power. She is very close to having nothing left, and starting over - and so she does. Before the rug can be pulled from under her, she gets out and sets off for herself again.

Vivienne, often accused of pride, privilege, and self importance, comes to the Inquisitor out of pure humility. She knows she is reduced. And her gamble ultimately pays off, and the Inquisition becomes the political juggernaut that it does, and she becomes more powerful and important than ever just by association. And I like to think, especially with an Inquisitor who respects and befriends her, that she plays no small part in shaping the organization.

I think this is also why, potentially, she plays it so cool at the Winter Palace. She doesn’t get involved… she doesn’t need to. Simply being present is a statement to the court, and she truly doesn’t care about who wins; it’s not just the Game, it’s personal, despite what she claims. That they cast her aside, and now they are interested again… not necessarily in her, but still, she sees the paradigm shifting again. She is now a part of the organization who gets to change Orlais, and favor with the Inquisition is quickly becoming just as important as favor with Celene.

The whole arc is a subtle one as she really doesn’t get much attention, but if you pay close attention, it shows how expertly Vivienne plays politics. We already know she came from nothing and maneuvered into a powerful position. But I think not everyone realizes she is nearly back to nothing when we first meet her… and through the course of the game’s events, by allying with the right people, she plays the game well enough to become an advisor to the most influential person in southern Thedas… and potentially even Divine. But her initial plea to the Inquisitor, for all the great lengths she goes to keep up the appearance of strength and invulnerability, comes from a place of utter desperation.

[sweemmy]

⋆｡ﾟA family is made not just by blood, but by love, chaos, and endless adventure. And in their case, a little bit of tough love and explosions too. ﾟ｡⋆

— Vi, Caitlyn, Sevika, and Jinx.

VI.

After many conversations filled with questions and uncertainties, you and Vi made the decision to adopt and take that big step toward building a family. At first, Vi was a little unsure, afraid she wouldn’t live up to what motherhood would demand. But everything changed in an instant: when she saw the baby you both had chosen for the first time, her gaze softened with tenderness, and all her doubts vanished. In that moment, you knew you had made the right choice.

From the moment you brought the little one home, Vi became an unshakable source of love and protection. Though she still struggles with the overwhelming feeling of stepping into the role of a mother, her determination never wavers. She is ready to teach her child to face the world with courage, even when it seems like a complicated place.

The sweetest side of Vi shines through when she’s with her child. The house fills with laughter as they dive into intense pillow fights or games of hide-and-seek, where Vi, with a mischievous grin, always lets herself get “found.”

When she heard her child call her “mom” for the first time, she felt a lump in her throat and her heart overwhelmed with emotion. Tears threatened to fall, but true to her style, she tried to cover it up with a smile and her usual: “Who the hell is chopping onions around here?”

CAITLYN.

You and Caitlyn decided to turn to a sperm donor, carefully selecting someone whose values and characteristics perfectly matched what you both envisioned for your family. With her impeccable organizational skills, Caitlyn took charge of the process, ensuring that every step was supported by accurate information and well-thought-out decisions.

She’s one of those moms who’s passionate about instilling education from the very beginning. Sometimes, she goes a little overboard—like when you give her a simple bib, and she’s already imagining stitching the family name in gold thread.

Caitlyn spends peaceful, quiet afternoons walking through the park, gently pushing a baby stroller. She deeply enjoys sharing with her child the simple wonders of life, showing them the vibrant colors of flowers and the cheerful songs of birds, teaching them to appreciate the beauty in the everyday.

Though she seems to have everything under control, there’s a sparkle of emotion in her eyes every time her baby smiles. She’s a mother full of pride, unable to hide the immense love she feels for her family, and she’s not afraid to share that overflowing happiness with the world.

SEVIKA.

Although Sevika wasn't the most enthusiastic about the idea of becoming a mother, you managed to convince her that together they could build a unique family. She doesn’t talk about it much, but when the baby arrived, something in her changed profoundly.

Even though she tries to keep up her tough exterior, there's a softer side to her that comes alive only for her child. She’s the type of mom who grumbles when the kid makes a mess… and then helps clean it up while murmuring, "But don’t tell your mom."

She builds custom toys and practices games that involve physical challenges because "life doesn’t give you a break." Her child adores her, especially when they see her adjusting her mechanical arm like a superhero.

No one, absolutely no one, dares to question her role as a mother. Once, a stranger tried to criticize you as a couple, and Sevika made it clear there wouldn't be a second warning.

JINX.

You and Jinx never planned on having a child, but somehow, fate (and maybe one particularly chaotic day) led you to adopt a little one you found on the streets of Zaun. According to her, "he was a potential ally of chaos."

Jinx is the fun mom who organizes “crazy drawing” competitions and probably lets the kid have ice cream before breakfast. She’s messy, but there’s no shortage of love or dedication.

When her child gets scared, Jinx surprisingly becomes calm. She knows how to comfort him with made-up stories and a soft hug, showing a more vulnerable side of herself.

She wants her child to grow up knowing that there’s nothing wrong with being different. She teaches him to be brave and creative, even if it means explaining later why the baby tried to “decorate” the house with explosive glitter.

[amischiefofmuses]

Leech remains hidden, both hands over his mouth to try to stifle any errant giggles from giving away his position. He almost outright snorts as he hears her run past and there he waits, just for a moment, before sneaking out behind her. He's used to being quiet, it used to be a matter of survival when living with the Morlocks but these days it seems to only ever be used on unwitting X-Men. "BOO!" He exclaims from behind her, purposefully stomping one of his feet to add to the scare. And then, giggles, he's off again and tucks himself between two bookshelves. Unfortunately though, he can't seem to stop the giggles this time and though once again muffled by his hands over his mouth - then tries burying his mouth against the curve of his elbow, there's a telltale quiet snickering from that little space between the bookshelves.

It had been so long since she'd just... played. Cut loose, let go of all that teenage angst and let that inner child out for just a little while. Jubilee had been on the run since the first time she'd learned what a mutant was, had been acting so grown-up... it was nice to just have some fun. So she gave chase, listening for his footsteps ahead of her.

She skidded to a stop at the bend of a corridor, having lost the sound of his shoes on the floor. He'd either jumped out a window -- unlikely -- or found a good place to hide. Jubilee knew most of the best places to hide, the dumbwaiters and the cabinets in the laundry rooms, the spaces behind big pieces of furniture... Slowly, she moved down the corridor, peering around carefully.

Only thing was, his coloration was a mark in his favor. He blended into the shadows between the bookshelves. She didn't see a thing.

[starogeorgina]

𝐌𝐚𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬

Paring: Jacaerys Targaryen x reader

Warnings: Swearing, smut

1.01

“His heart beats for blood. Blood and fire.”

Jacaerys stares at his betrothed from across the room, watching as she mumbles to herself while flicking through the same book he’s seen her read many times, her heavy-looking eyes often fixated on the same page for a long period of time. He was informed the library and Sept were the only places she would visit outside her private chambers since Aemond killed his brother.

The last time Jace’s family were all together, in King’s landing, King Viserys declared his youngest daughter and eldest grandson were to be wed, with the intention of mending the rift between House Targaryen once and for all.

But that wasn’t what happened.

His betrothed was visibly happy and very vocal about how excited she was to start planning the wedding with his mother. Then his grandsire died, his mother’s throne was usurped, and his unborn sister died. Since returning from Winterfell Jacaerys, the princess hasn’t even glanced in his direction; she was avoiding him, which stung. Jace had never felt so alone; he always had Lucerys by his side before. Perhaps the princess was hiding herself away out of fear of being treated badly for what her brothers, mother, and grandsire had done to his family.

Not that he thought of her any differently; if anything, the young prince pitted her.

Jacaerys watches her for a few moments longer then decides it’s best to leave the princess be; no point in disturbing someone who is seeking isolation.

—

You stop making alterations to the tunic you were embroidering when you hear the door to the chambers you were currently occupying being opened; without looking back, you know who it is. When the footsteps don’t go any further than the doorway, you start threading the needle again.

Every corner you turn, you feel dark eyes burning a hole into you. Nothing that you could say would undo the pain inflicted already. Your mind begins to wonder again, and you don’t notice Jace moving until he’s sitting next to you at the wooden desk. He was looking directly at you, but you avoided meeting his gaze.

“My Prince.”

He takes a sharp intake of breath, “I hold no ill will towards you.”

The funeral for Lucerys was held earlier that day, just before the sun began to set. You watched from afar as Rhaenyra crumpled to pieces, and the rest of her family sobbed, mourning the loss of such a sweet boy. It would have been wrong for you to join them when someone you cared for dearly caused them so much pain.

“How can you not? My twin is the reason you won’t get to see Luke again.”

Jacaerys says nothing to your response. What could he say? You sit in silence, watching Jace’s finger trace over the outline of a dragon on the tunic. “It’s unfinished; it was meant to be a gift for after the wedding.”

A small smile pulls on his lips. “It’s Vermax.”

Regardless of the awful things that had happened, you wanted to remain on Dragonstone but doubted you’d be able to stay long. You were nothing but a reminder of what Aemond had done.

“What’s on your mind?”

You finally looked up and met his eyes, which are glossy from holding back tears. In comparison, your own issues seem minuscule, but you share what’s bothering you anyway. “I don’t want to go back home.”

“This is your home.”

“I’m afraid.”

Giving you a sympathetic look, Jace uses the pad of his thumb to rub circles on the back of your hand. Comforting touches weren’t something you were familiar with, but you liked the warmth coming from his hand.

“You’re safe inside these walls. I won’t let anybody come in here and hurt you.”

“I’m afraid of Dae—”

You’re cut off when there’s a knock at the door and Rhaenyra’s handmaiden, Elinda, walks into the room. You expected Jace to remove his thumb, but instead he squeezed your hand.

Elinda greets you both, “Princess, the queen wishes to speak with you.”

—

Staring into Rhaenyra's eyes was like staring down a dragon. Her fury was evident the moment you entered her quarters; you had seen Daemon storming in the opposite direction and presumed he had something to do with the queen's foul mood. You were thankful when she went to stand by the window.

“I believe my son was in your bedchamber when I sent for you. Is that correct?”

“No, I mean—“ you begin to stumble over your words. “Yes, he was there, Prince Jacaerys came to speak with me.”

“Nothing that could have waited until the morrow, I’m sure.”

Her expression was hard to read. Although she didn’t say anything else, you felt the need to explain further. “I told him I didn’t want to go back to King's Landing, and he told me this was my home. He said, I'm safe here.”

“Why would you believe any differently?”

“Nowhere is safe.”

Rhaenyra uncrosses her arms, her expression softening. “Nobody under my rule will harm you, but I must share this with you.”

Elinda hands you a scroll. Confused, you take it from her, “I don’t understand why someone would write to me.”

You open it nervously and read it. Your lips parted slightly; Rhaenyra asks what it says, but you’re unable to answer her. Elinda looks at it and lets out a small gasp, “It’s from Aegon. He’s demanding the princess return to King’s Landing at once.”

You take the scroll and toss it into the fireplace. “It may have my brother’s signature, but that is my grandsire and mother talking.”

“Elinda, leave us for a moment.” Rhaenyra lets out a frustrated sigh. When it’s just the two of you, she asks, “Do you wish to stay here, on Dragonstone?”

“Yes,” you say, taking a step towards her. “I understand if you want me to leave, but please don’t make me go back to them.”

Seeing the desperation in your eyes, she nods. “We may not be close, but you are my youngest sister. I know you are innocent.”

“I miss Helaena and her sweet children.” You begin to sob, “I was so quick to leave with you for Dragonstone that I never went and saw father before I left. I never said goodbye to him.”

“Neither of us knew what would happen.” Rhaenyra caresses your cheek in a motherly manner. “Jacaerys is right, you are safe here.”

—

Dragonstone was much darker and colder than what you were used to; your hair always feels damp even when it’s dry. You found the sounds of waves crashing around the island comforting.

But not as comforting as being held by Jacaerys.

You expected the prince to have returned to his own quarters, but he was waiting on you to return. You were sitting on the edge of the table with your legs dangling over the edge, Jacaerys forehead pressed against your own while he held you close.

The both of you were lonely, hurt, and scared.

“Won’t you get in trouble for being here so late?”

“We will be married soon,” Jacaerys says, stepping back. “Will we share a room when we are married?”

“I was told that women only lay with their husbands for a couple of nights a month, but everyone who I know who does it seems unhappy. Would you want us to always share a bedchamber?”

“Yes.”

Smiling, you peck him on the lips. “Sorry, that was inappropriate of me.”

“It’s okay.” He closes his eyes. “I hope the war ends soon so my mother can sit on her throne, and you can be my wife.”

You chuckle slightly. “As happy as I am to be your wife, I’m scared for our wedding night. My mother told me sex is painful for a woman.”

“It’s not always.”

“Wait, have you...” You don’t finish the question; the thought of him bedding someone else made you feel sick.

“No, but my stepfather is Daemon Targaryen,” he chuckles. “He always told me it was important for everyone involved to feel pleasure.”

“I was just told to grip the sheets while waiting for it to be over and that only men feel good.”

Jace’s lips ghost your own, his breath warm on your face. “Have you ever felt pleasure before?”

“Yes… kind of, have you.”

Jacaerys cheeks flush red as he nods.

“I touched myself once, but I didn’t put my fingers inside.”

“Why not?”

“It’s a sin for a woman to touch themselves for desire. I went to the sept immediately afterwards and didn’t do it again.”

“Sweet girl,” Jace kisses your cheek. “I’ll never touch you anymore than you want me to.”

You hug again, but this time Jace’s head is pressed against the side of your neck. You still like that in a comfortable silence until you feel him lightly kissing your neck. He pauses waiting for your reaction; a moan slips from your mouth, and you tighten your grip, going around Jace’s back, encouraging him. “Do it again, please.”

Jacaerys starts kissing up your neck until he reaches your jawline. Lifting his head, your noses brush together, “Can I make you feel good now?”

You take Jacaerys hand and guide it underneath your skirts, helping him find the sensitive spot that brings you such pleasure.

“Oh fuck!”

Jace shushes you with a kiss, “We need to be quiet.”

You hold onto his shoulders tightly as he rubs circles on your clit until you climax.

Smiling Jacaerys kisses you again, “It’s late; we should get some rest; the morrow will come soon enough.”

“Can you stay a little longer?”

He takes your hand and helps you off the table. “Yes, but I’ll need to go before the handmaidens come in the morning.”