just things that i read

˚₊‧꒰ა Every time you coughed too hard or made that pitiful groan, he looked up from his spot on the floor or chair with a slight frown that didn’t suit him. “You alright, sweetheart? Need anything? Blanket? More tea? The soul of whoever got you sick?”

˚₊‧꒰ა He didn’t exactly hover, but his presence was constant, like a lazy cat that refused to leave your room. Sometimes he’d be napping in the corner with his hat over his face, one eye just slightly open in case you stirred.

˚₊‧꒰ა He definitely wasn’t above guilt-tripping you if you tried to leave bed early. “If you collapse in front of the other captains, it’ll make me look bad. Do it for my reputation, please.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Somehow, he managed to sneak a futon in next to yours under the excuse that you might ‘need immediate assistance in the night,’ and snored like a thunderstorm, at least you didn’t kick him out.

˚₊‧꒰ა The moment your fever broke and you started recovering, he acted offended. “What, already feeling better? I was just starting to enjoy the nurse role. You’re cruel, really.”

˚₊‧꒰ა As you improved, he started reading aloud to you in that smooth drawl of his—terribly boring political documents made ridiculous by the way he performed them like plays. “And thus, the Central 46, in their infinite wisdom, decided...that paperwork is love. Paperwork is life.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Anytime you got up to stretch your legs, he usually made a dramatic scene of wrapping you in a blanket like a burrito. “You’re not escaping that easily. I didn’t play Florence Nightingale just for you to run off and get sick again.”

˚₊‧꒰ა And when you thanked him afterwards, he waved it off with a smile. “You’d do the same for me, right? Although, I’d probably milk it more. I’m a terrible patient, you know.”

✦ Shuhei Hisagi ✦

˚₊‧꒰ა He wasn't dramatic or loud about it. He just started acting. Put away your things, guided you gently by the elbow, handed you a cup of lukewarm water like he’d been preparing for this.

˚₊‧꒰ა He wasn’t much of a cook either, but he brought what he could—pre-packed rice porridge and miso soup from a nearby vendor. “It’s not gourmet, but it’s warm,” he said, holding it out with both hands.

˚₊‧꒰ა He sat beside the bed on a cushion, not too close, but never far enough to be out of reach. Silently reading and occasionally glancing your way. You’d pretended to sleep, but the fact that he was there made it easier to rest.

˚₊‧꒰ა Though his version of fussing was practical: refilling your water cup before it ran out, adjusting your blanket when it slipped off, making sure your pills or temperature sheet were where they should be.

˚₊‧꒰ა “Don’t push yourself,” he muttered when you tried to sit up for longer than five minutes. “Being strong doesn’t mean being foolish.”

˚₊‧꒰ა You caught him once with his head bowed, eyes shut, quietly muttering something like a prayer. He looked up and flushed. “I’m not dying, babe.” “I know. Just…hoping you bounce back soon. I don’t like seeing you like this.”

˚₊‧꒰ა When your fever spiked, he lost the calm for a moment—pacing at the door before finally fetching Isane, asking just enough questions to learn what you needed, then returning like he’d never left.

˚₊‧꒰ა He wiped sweat from your neck and shoulders with a cool cloth without comment. “You’re gonna be fine,” he’d mutter like it was a promise he was making to himself.

˚₊‧꒰ა At least when you started feeling better, he let out a sigh of relief so quiet you almost missed it. “You scared me,” he admitted, brushing a hand through his hair. “Not because you were sick…just because I didn’t know how bad it might get.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Teasing him about being overprotective was fun, and he’d give you a tired smile. “Yeah, well. I’ve seen enough people push themselves into an early grave. Not letting you be one of them.”

˚₊‧꒰ა You woke up once to find your uniform pressed and folded neatly on the table, and a note in neat handwriting: No getting up till I’m back. I mean it. –Shuhei

˚₊‧꒰ა He stayed longer than necessary every night, resting his head on his arms beside you when he was too tired to sit upright, muttering half-dreamed things like, “You always run yourself ragged, y’know that?”

˚₊‧꒰ა Even after you recovered, he still kept an eye on you for weeks. “Drink some water,” became a regular phrase. “Eat something,” followed close behind. You didn’t argue because you couldn’t when he was being all worried over you.

✦ Urahara Kisuke ✦

˚₊‧꒰ა Mr Inspector Gadget was already lurking the moment your sneeze echoed from the back room. “Achoo! My, my, that doesn’t sound good,” he drawled, peering over the sliding door. “Caught a bug, hmm? Or maybe the bug caught you?”

˚₊‧꒰ა Before you could argue, he’d already flicked a thermometer into your mouth and dropped a damp cloth onto your forehead like a stage magician revealing a card. “Stay still. I need to take notes on your suffering.”

˚₊‧꒰ა You half-expected him to vanish into his underground lab and leave you alone, but instead he dragged a beanbag next to your futon and parked himself there like a cat staking territory.

˚₊‧꒰ა “I could whip up a serum, but it might give you antlers,” he said thoughtfully while swirling tea in a chipped mug. “Shall we play it safe with soup?”

˚₊‧꒰ა He let Jinta and Ururu handle the shop while he hovered nearby, bringing in concoctions that smelt like herbs and mischief.

˚₊‧꒰ა You coughed once and he nearly tripped over his own sandals rushing back in. “Too dramatic? Or do I get an award for fastest room re-entry?”

˚₊‧꒰ა He didn’t like seeing you miserable, though. Despite the jokes, his touch was careful when he adjusted your blankets, and his voice softened when he thought you were asleep. “It’s alright. You’ll be alright.”

˚₊‧꒰ა He refused to let you use a basic tissue box. Instead, he conjured some absurd medical tech that dispensed steam and mint with every pull. “It’s the Rolls Royce of tissues. Only the best.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Kisuke being Kisuke, he made a game out of things. Every time you took your medicine, he gave you a sticker. “Five more and you win a prize,” he’d cheer. “Possibly a nap with my hat. Possibly eternal glory.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Finally when the fever broke and you groaned from muscle aches, he sat down beside you and handed you a tin of ointment without a word. “I can rub it in, but you’ll owe me a foot massage when you’re better.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Occasionally he’d hold your hand to check your pulse, tapping the inside of your wrist with just the pad of his finger. “Hmm…mildly alive. Progress.”

˚₊‧꒰ა You overheard him scolding Tessai one night in the hallway—something about making sure the shop stayed quiet and not letting anyone bother you. “They got enough going on. Just…don’t let the kids yell near the room, alright?”

˚₊‧꒰ა He brewed weird teas in the middle of the night and brought them in with a grin. “This one might taste like regret. But it’s very healing.”

˚₊‧꒰ა As soon as you could sit up without wobbling, he handed you a board game and said, “Time to test your reflexes. If you lose to me while still sick, It won’t count. If you win, I’ll be impressed.”

˚₊‧꒰ა When you finally stood up and declared yourself healthy, he dramatically staggered back and clutched his chest. “You’re alive! And just in time. I was running out of teas and tragic metaphors.”

˚₊‧꒰ა But he lingered a little longer near you after that. Always watching with that easy smile, fanning himself lazily. “You’re not allowed to worry me like that again. Unless it’s for a good reason, like dramatic flair. Or to make me look heroic.”

✦ Hirako Shinji ✦

˚₊‧꒰ა “You’re being weird. Like, quiet-weird. You dying or somethin’?” When you brushed him off, he rolled his eyes and slung an arm around your shoulder anyway, steering you straight into his quarters. “Alright, you’re done pretending. Bed. Now. Don’t make me carry you—though I will, and I’ll make it weird.”

˚₊‧꒰ა He wasn’t exactly gentle, but he knew what he was doing. He dumped you in bed, tossed a blanket over you, and returned minutes later with a bowl of hot food and a bottle of something vaguely medicinal. “Eat. Or at least pretend you’re eating so I don’t have to argue with you.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Shinji had this odd mix of mothering and relentless bullying. “Aww, poor baby can’t walk five steps without coughing? Must be serious. What’s next, you want me to spoon-feed you?”

˚₊‧꒰ა He was beside you the entire time with his legs up on the bed like he owned the place, flipping through a magazine while tossing out casual observations like, “You look like shit,” followed by, “You’re still cute though. In a tragic, plague-ridden way.”

˚₊‧꒰ა He wasn’t above bribing you to take your medicine and flicking your forehead if you tried to bite him in retaliation. “Drink it and I’ll let you wear my sunglasses for ten minutes. Refuse and I’ll tell Hiyori you called her soft.”

˚₊‧꒰ა When you were half-asleep, he’d get weirdly quiet. Sitting there, tapping a finger on the bedframe, then eventually muttering, “Don’t push yourself so hard, alright? No point in acting tough when no one’s watching.”

˚₊‧꒰ა The teasing picked up again the second you stirred. “You snore when you’ve got a blocked nose, y’know. Real loud. Like a hollow and a goat had a baby.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Doesn’t know how to cook properly, so at some point he just started stealing food from Lisa’s stash. “Don’t tell her. She’ll kill me. But you need real nutrients and I’m not feeding you whatever that grey stuff Kensei makes.”

˚₊‧꒰ა When your fever broke, he appeared in the doorway with confetti and a tiny party popper. “Congratulations, you survived. I’ll now resume treating you like a person and not a damp towel.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Don’t ever try walking, he was on you immediately. “Oi, sit back down. Just ‘cause you’re not dying anymore doesn’t mean you’ve got a licence to be stupid.”

˚₊‧꒰ა When you were finally well enough to leave his care, he pretended to cry into a handkerchief. “My precious sick goblin is all grown up. Get outta here before I start writing poetry about your recovery.”

✦ Kurosaki Ichigo ✦

˚₊‧꒰ა He wasn’t good at the soft stuff, but he had zero chill once he decided you needed rest. “No arguments. Bed. I’ll get—uh…I’ll figure it out. Just—bed!”

˚₊‧꒰ა The food situation was...interesting. He tried cooking and nearly started a fire. Eventually, he gave up and bought porridge from Orihime. “She said it’s good for sick people. Don’t ask me what’s in it.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Paced more than he sat. Every time you shifted, sneezed, or coughed, he was up like a soldier, rushing to adjust the blanket or shove a glass of water into your hands. “Here. Just drink it, okay? Even if it tastes gross.”

˚₊‧꒰ა He’d try to act casual and cool, standing by the door with his arms crossed like a guard, but then you’d groan and he’d be at your side in two seconds, looking like he wanted to fight the virus personally.

˚₊‧꒰ა “I hate this. Not being able to fix it. I’m used to punching stuff till it goes away,” he muttered once, rubbing the back of his neck as he watched you sleep.

˚₊‧꒰ა When your fever got high, he panicked. Fumbled the thermometer, knocked over a chair, almost sprinted out to get Urahara before you stopped him. “Okay, okay, I’m staying! Just don’t scare me like that.”

˚₊‧꒰ა He eventually figured out a rhythm—sat beside you quietly, played some stupid videos on his phone (muted, but with captions), and occasionally offered you sweets like you were a kid. “I know you can’t taste anything, but still. Sugar’s comforting, right?”

˚₊‧꒰ა He doesn’t say much, but it was all in the way he stuck around, offered his hoodie, rubbed your back when you coughed until your ribs hurt. “You don’t have to thank me. Just get better, yeah?”

˚₊‧꒰ა He tends to fall asleep on the floor often, sitting upright against the wall with his chin on his chest and his hand still loosely wrapped around your wrist. Didn’t even realise till you nudged him awake.

˚₊‧꒰ა Getting your energy back was also a mother-hen moment. He was HOVERING like he expected you to suddenly relapse or collapse. His hands were never quite touching, but always hovering near your arms, ready to catch you.

˚₊‧꒰ა At least he never made a big deal of it afterwards, but you noticed the extra snacks in your cupboard, the new kettle in your kitchen, the way he still asked “Feeling alright?” every day for a week like he couldn’t let it go.

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @stygianoir @spellboundsuguru @cactimorada @cookielovesbook-akie @kennys-partner @sovl-society @villainsrtasty @foxycrafterofgreenwood @carnationdoe @darthwhorecrux

Dammon was positively certain the had a clean shirt left, well, clean-er. His work was hard on clothes, and despite his best efforts soot and iron shavings were a pain to remove from clothes. So having lost his only good shirt, certainly was not great. "Love!" He called out to you, tail flicking in worry as he pulled open the last drawer in your shared chesterfield. Perhaps you had accidentally placed it with your items? Or maybe it was still on the line it could- his thoughts all but screeched to a halt as you entered your room, dressed in his shirt as your night clothes. You certainly said something, of what he was not entirely certain, but he was truly sure you were divine in his clothes. "Dammon? What's wrong?" Right. Yes. Words. He should reply. "That is my shirt." The teifling croaked. Your brows rose and you were half way through pulling it over your head when he tugged it back down. "No! No I mean I like it! It looks nice." Dammon says quickly, smiling as he presses a kiss to your temple. "But you need it don't you?" You ask, he's shaking his head but you are making direct eye contact with the chest of drawers he has torn apart in his search. "I have other shirts." You say, tugging the fabric out, offering it to him. "They don't look as good."

You hadn't noticed Zevlor was leaning against the kitchen entry until he spoke, "I think you have something that belongs to me." -and subsequently scared the shit out of you. Baldurs gate was a loud city, but not nearly loud enough to hide the sound of his armour, your almost embarrassed he snuck up on you when you turn to meet his affectionate gaze. "It is frigid in here." You argue, tugging his wool cloak closer to yourself. "It is a lovely spring morning." He argues, stepping forward to wrap himself around you, arms resting on your hips. "It is a cold spring morning." You say against his chest, "should I look for a new cloak for you in the market today?" He asks eventually, you smack his chest playfully. "I am taking this one, find your own." "This is my own!"

𝐆𝐢𝐧 — “Don’t be scared, darlin’. You’re safer here.”

Obsession hidden behind a smile. Gin is a man who plays the long game. He may have originally intended to simply watch over you, but the fear of losing you would drive him to take drastic measures. Gin would never let you see the bars of your cage. You’d wake up one day and realise your entire world had been carefully designed by him, that every interaction you had was controlled, and that you had no way out. He would always be nearby, his sly smile masking an almost desperate need to keep you right where he wants you.

𝐁𝐲𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐲𝐚 — “You will remain where I can protect you.”

He wouldn’t see it as kidnapping—he’d see it as claiming you as his rightful possession. His methods would be highly calculated; he’d have his personal guards ensure you’re always watched, his estate would be inescapable, and he’d make it clear that the outside world is dangerous—you belong here, with him. His way of keeping you? Absolute control. Your entire life would be dictated by him, from what you wear to where you sleep. And if you ever resisted? He wouldn’t even raise his voice. He’d simply remind you of the consequences—your loved ones suddenly disappearing, your escape attempts met with punishment so swift and silent that you’d be too terrified to try again.

𝐙𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐤𝐢 — “If I keep you locked up, you’ll always be mine. No one else gets to have you. I won’t let ya leave. I won ya, after all.”

Primitive, animalistic possession. If Kenpachi considers you his, then nothing will change that. His affection is raw, territorial, and all-consuming. No chains, no illusions—just brute force. If you try to leave, he will simply bring you back, over and over again. He would hold you trapped in his arms, keep you locked in his quarters, and make it physically impossible to escape. He loves a challenge, but if you push him too far, he will remind you exactly why he is the strongest.

𝐔𝐥𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐚 — “You do not need the outside world. You need only me. You belong to me. This is an undeniable fact.”

Pure logical obsession. Ulquiorra is fascinated by the concept of love, yet he cannot understand why the idea of you leaving makes his chest tighten. He concludes that keeping you is the only way to maintain order in his world. He would keep you in Las Noches, in a cold, isolated chamber where no one else could reach you. He would watch you constantly, studying your emotions, trying to understand what makes you human. He would tell you that there is no escape, no alternative, and eventually, he expects you to accept this reality.

𝐆𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐣𝐨𝐰 — “If I keep you, no one else can take you.”

He would take you in a moment of desperation. If he felt you slipping away, he would act on impulse, grabbing you and throwing you over his shoulder like a wild beast. He wouldn’t have a plan, nor would he be gentle—he’d snarl, rage, and lock you away in a room deep within Las Noches until he figured out how to make you love him his way. He wouldn’t chain you, but he would stand guard at the door himself, daring you to try and leave.

Glancing at him through your lashes as you set your cup down, you cleared your throat. “You know,” you mused with a clear penchant for mischief, “I made a little trip to the red-light district yesterday.”

Dark eyes, half-lidded with their usual indolence flickered upwards to meet yours with mild curiosity. You caught his attention loud and clear. “Oh? And what, may I ask, was the occasion?”

“My sister, of course. She’s still the most expensive Oiran in the district. Naturally, I had to stop by and see how she was doing,” you hummed, slowly pouring yourself another cup of wine.

“Ah,” he exhaled with an amused grin. “That explains it. I was beginning to wonder if you’d gone to…indulge yourself when you could have come to me.”

Rolling your eyes at his typical comment, you lifted your cup to your lips for a strong sip. Humming as the warmth seeped through you, you darted your tongue out to catch a stray droplet that escaped your mouth, something Kyoraku noticed and arched a brow at. You made nothing of the action. “Indulging would’ve been interesting, but I was more entertained by the conversations I overheard.”

“Oh?” Kyoraku prompted, his smile deepening as if he had an idea of where the conversation was heading. “And what little tales were being spun yesterday?”

You leaned in slightly, setting your cup aside and resting your chin on your palms as you regarded him. “The ladies from the other houses seemed to be quite taken with you.”

“Ah, that’s nothing new. A man can’t help it if he’s well-loved,” he chuckled and shifted slightly.

“Yes, yes,” you drawled, “but what really caught my attention was how they went on and on about your cock.”

Your words had Kyoraku choking on his sake. In a fit of sputters, he placed his cup down on the lacquered tray with a quiet thud, shoulders shaking with a mixture of laughter and coughs. He fought to gain control, casting you a look of amusement and bewilderment once he was able to. “My, my,” he wheezed, wiping the corner of his mouth with his thumb. “I wasn’t expecting such an…explicit topic of discussion.”

“Oh please, you shouldn’t be surprised since everything ends up becoming explicit when you’re around,” you teased with a grin. “Apparently, it’s quite the talk of the district. Big, thick, hard to take—the usual.”

Kyoraku exhaled with a single laugh, shaking his head at your description. “What can I say? I’m a generous man.”

Waving your hand at him dismissively, you leaned forward a little more. “Yeah, I’m aware, but—” you lowered your voice with a note of exaggerated scepticism, “—not a single one of them mentioned your skills.”

It was then, he stilled for a fraction of a second, though his expression remained one of easy amusement. This urged you to continue. So, resting your elbows on the table between you, bringing your face near enough that you could see the faintest flicker of curiosity in his sweet, brown eyes, you pursed your lips. “I find it strange. You frequent the district so often enough, and yet, not a single lady had anything to say about how good you are in bed. Just your size. So it makes me wonder…”

“And what exactly are you wondering, sweetheart?” he encouraged, arching a brow in a lazed motion.

“Are the rumours false? Do you actually have nothing but size going for you?” you pondered as though you trying to crack a mystery. “Or—” You reached out like a cat to trail your fingertips against the rim of his cup, gauging his expression through your lashes as you looked up. “—are the rumours about your skill completely exaggerated?”

“A rather bold line of questioning,” he murmured with his eyes heavily set on you, pupils slowly dilating as the minutes dwindled into seconds. “Either I’m all size and no skills, or very little skills.”

You smirked. “I just find it hard to believe, that’s all. A man’s size alone isn’t enough to make him a legend in the red-light district. And yet, here you are, whispered about like some kind of forbidden pleasure,” you dramatically sighed. “A man as lazy as you does nothing more than lie back and let your size do all the work.”

For a moment, a still silence fell over you two. The distant sounds of his men practising in the courtyard could be heard, followed by the gentle tapping of the wisteria against the window. Then, like a predator, he shortened the gap between you, his lips parting for his tongue to lick at the corners before he exhaled. The scent of cherry-flavoured saké on his breath. “And what would you do if you found out?”

You tilted your head innocently. “Depends on the answer.”

“Careful now, Captain,” he purred. “You keep talking like that, and I’ll have to prove you wrong.”

Licking your lips as your eyes darted from his mouth back to his eyes, darkened with his pupils now full-blown. “Oh please. I can handle it just fine. If anything, I bet I’d be disappointed.”

That did it. It was enough challenge to set the man before you, ablaze. There was a sudden shift in the atmosphere, warmer and more intense. You could have sworn you felt a bead of perspiration running down your collarbone and into the confinements of your Shihakusho. Your stomach was performing cartwheels the longer you held his eye contact, your pussy clenching around nothing in anticipation. Gently, ever so tenderly, his hand stretched over the table, as though it had evaporated between you, and cupped your jaw, tilting your chin up so you had no choice but to meet his hungry, yet controlled, stare.

“Is that so?” His voice had dropped, sounding as though he was pouring caramel all over you, despite the edge of challenge. “Then would you care to test that theory, sweetheart?”

You knew better than to accept challenges around Shunsui. The man was a natural at whatever he attempted, and worse yet, anything involving intimacy, he was a professional. You should have shaken your head, laughed him off, and told him that this little leisurely moment was over. Instead, something inside you burned with the desire to prove him wrong, to wipe the smug look off his face. But the way his hand gripped your jaw, his calloused fingers pressing into your skin stirred a heat in your core, leading to a small trickle of your arousal leaking out. “That depends,” you breathed heavily, working up the courage to return his game by running your fingers along the edge of his kosode. “Are you confident you’ll leave me speechless with your so-called skills?”

Using his free hand to push the low table aside, now nothing stood between you both, he knelt over you, hand still cupping your jaw. “Oh darling,” he purred and leaned in to brush his nose against yours, making your stomach drop. “I guarantee it.”

“Big words,” you scoffed, trying to uphold your big-girl attitude.

Bumping his nose against yours, before trailing it across your cheek to run it along your jawline, his lips stopped just at the corner of your mouth. “Experience, darling. Experience.”

“Fine, then,” you challenged. “Prove me wrong.”

And that was how you found yourself exactly where you were now—spread out on the cushions, hakama discarded on the tatami floor, kosode pulled apart to expose your breasts, while Kyoraku held you open and leisurely fucked you into complete submission. Your knuckles nearly cramped on you from how hard you were gripping the cushions, fingers grasping desperately for purchase as your body trembled under the slow, deliberate pace he set. The thick weight of his cock stretched your walls, moulding them to take his shape—permanently—and spreading you open with every drag of his length. The sensation was too much, yet too good. He was so deep, and you refused to acknowledge this, but your body betrayed you.

Your pussy betrayed you.

The first few inches in and she seized up on you, gushing a torrential of juices all over his abdomen, cock and balls. “You were saying?” he teased as his lips curved into a lazy grin, but his eyes burned with satisfaction as he watched you struggle to keep up. “Didn’t even last five seconds before you started squirting all over me. What happened to being unimpressed?” The rich, audacious and humorous laughter that echoed from his lips sunk you into humiliation. Fucking hell, you were done for before you had even started.

Your Captain’s robe was still hanging off your body, a small symbol of dignity to hang on to while he fucked you stupid. One leg over his shoulder, your ankle dangling by his ear, while the other was hooked around his waist, heel digging into his lower back to unintentionally keep him from leaving the warmth of your pussy.

He was between your legs, his calloused hands gripping your thighs so deliciously, leaving his thumb imprints to bloom purple bruises—his signature as a constant reminder to never forget the mess he was about to leave you in. His entire uniform was removed, and haphazardly thrown across the floor, not bothering should someone enter his office and witness the sight of two captains entangled on the floor. His sole focus was watching the way your pussy gripped and swallowed his cock like it was starving for ages. The clear look of satisfaction in his lustful eyes left him smug.

“What was that you said earlier, sweetheart?” he goaded as he bottomed out, watching as your words died on your tongue. Your head flung backwards into the pile of pillows, jaw slackened, and eyes clamped shut as you tried to focus on anything but his cock deep in you, rubbing against your soft spongy spot. However, your legs were giving you away as they trembled around him, your pride fluttering out the window. “Something about not believing in the rumours?”

Grounding his hips against you, your clit getting caught in his pubic hair and stimulated as he leaned forward to apply more weight, pinning you under him. With a slow drag, he withdrew his cock, chuckling at the constant clenching of your walls as your attempted to suck him back in. His tip tickled your entrance, still fat enough to stretch you, stilled for a moment before he snapped forward, sinking into you again, forcing your walls to stretch around him in a perfect fit, leaving you unable to do anything but take it. The thick length of his cock pressed against your sweet spot with unrelenting precision, and the slow drag against your hypersensitive gummy walls made your back arch. Your slick was smeared along his cock, glistening with a ring of cream at the base, dripping down his balls. Messy and creamy, each thrust was accompanied by a lewd squelch that echoed throughout the cosy room, as if your pussy was singing his praises against your will.

You hated to accept the way your gummy, spongy walls moulded and clamped around him, reshaping to take him as though it was where he belonged. He was battering your pussy like a mad man—deep in your guts, rearranging it. His cock was bullying its way through your walls.

Gasping as you fought to control your breathing, the air knocked out your lungs, you opened your eyes to look up at him and view the sight that your pussy was creating. Head tossed back, throat bobbing as he groaned, beads of sweat rolling down his chest and collecting his hair, his long chestnut strands clinging to his skin, making him appear as some divine being ruining you. You were angry to say that you were lost for words at how handsome he looked in that moment—the way he was losing himself in your pussy, yet still in control. Could not say the same for you.

Shunsui groaned at the feeling, hands gripping your thighs firmly to keep you spread nicely for him, taking in the sensation of how your body trembled from the overwhelming pleasure. “You really thought you could handle me, huh?” he grinned as he opened his eyes to look down at your pouty, dazed and wide-blown expression. You could hear the condescension dripping in his voice as he mocked your bravo from earlier. “All that confidence yet look at you.” He tilted his head to watch the way your breath came in short, desperate gasps. “Cock-drunk already, and I’ve barely started.”

Yet, stubborn as ever, you had refused to admit it was because of him. “I-It’s just—ahh—b-because I haven’t…” Your words were a congested maelstrom of incoherent jumbling as you stuttered into a broken moan, your walls gripping helplessly around him.

“Because you haven’t been fucked in years?” Kyoraku finished your excused, his lips twitching into a wicked grin before he leaned down to press more of his weight on you, your thighs curling into your chest. “Sweetheart, that just means I get to ruin you properly.”

And ruin you he did.

Your walls clenched at his words as if your body agreed, and he chuckled. A deep rumbling in his chest reverberated through yours as he pressed down on you a little more to fuck you a much more forceful and faster. The friction of his chest hairs rubbing against your nipples aided in making your stomach tense, pleasure curling hot and tight in your core. You had already squirted the moment he fully seated himself inside you for the first time, an embarrassing display that had your face burning in humiliation. Your pride refused to let you acknowledge how good it felt, how your body responded to him with unchecked desperation.

“K-Kyoraku…” you groaned as his cock head brushed against your sweet spot again, feeling another wave coming along.

“Shunsui, darling. If I’m buried so deeply in you like this, making you cum. Say the right name,” he snickered, inclining his head to pepper kisses along your jaw and down your neck.

Your thighs trembled as he kept up the rapid rhythm, fucking into you with infuriating patience as if he had all the time in the world to make his point. Each stroke of his cock sent jolts of pleasure up your spine, your hands flying from the cushions to latch onto his back, feeling his rippling muscles flexing under each snap of his hips. All sweaty and slick, your hands glided along his back before finding purchase in his upper shoulders, your nails sinking into his skin, earning you a deep groan. “You sure you’re not enjoying this more than you’re letting on?” he rasped.

His eyes dipped down to the union of your bodies where he watched his cock, messy as hell, being swallowed whole by your pussy. “Like you don’t want me to leave,” he murmured with such amusement. “So different from your words earlier. What were them again? Something about handling it just fine, and being disappointed. Say something now, love. Admit…hmm, that you’re wrong, and you love it.”

“Screw you—shit—ughh.” A forceful snap of his hips left your words hanging in the air. Your pride warred with the undeniable ecstasy coursing through your veins, but your body gave him the answer you refused to voice. His thumb then reached down to press against your swollen clit before gently circling the nub, making your breath hitch.

Your mouth parted to give a silent gasp as the heat in your core grew like molten lava—his smirk against your neck widened once he recognised what your body was about to do. Just then, a small splash of juices squirted out again, covering his cock and thighs. The wicked laughter that escaped his throat made you grind your teeth at how unbecoming this situation was turning out to be. You were losing terribly.

“Admit it, princess,” he murmured against your throat, pressing an open-mouth kiss, sucking at the sensitive skin before dragging his lips up to your ear. “You love it.” His voice was filled with smug enjoyment. “You love the way I stretch you out, how deep I reach. No one else could fuck you like this, could they?” He punctuated his words with a particularly deep thrust, the head of his cock kissing your cervix in a way that had your eyes rolling back, a loud moan ripping from your throat. He was fucking you into hypersensitivity, leaving you spasming in his arms.

“F-Fuck you, S-Shunsui,” you wheezed, digging your nails into his back harder.

“No princess, fucking you is my job. You wanted proof, so you’re going to take everything I give you until you can’t even think straight. No other cock will ever satisfy you from now on.”

You shook your head, doing everything to drown out the sounds of sweaty skin slapping against each other, slipping and sliding as you fought to cling to him properly for anchorage. The sinful sounds of his heavy, sticky balls, dying to empty everything inside you, slapping quickly against your ass with each slap of his hips into you. His fingers had returned to your clit, pinching and slapping the delicate nub like it was his newfound toy. The delicious friction of your nipples against his sweaty, coarse hair, his mouth on your neck—you were going to combust under pressure. You hated how you were cracking, even whimpers escaping your throat were becoming of you.

“Shun–…sui…” you whined breathlessly with a pouty look, tears catching in your lashes as they built at the corners.

In an instant, he pulled his head back to gaze at you with such reverence, it made you forget that this was just a fuck to prove and nothing else. His pretty brown eyes softened as they peered at you affectionately. “Say it,” he commanded with a sweet, honey-like tone, brushing his lips against yours. “No one else can fuck you like this, and you were wrong.”

You wanted to say the words, but they were stuck in your throat. All you could do was whine breathless against his lips and vibrate under him as you were hurling towards another peak. The combination of his expert thrusts and skilled fingers pushed you over the edge, a high-pitched cry tore from your throat as you came, your body convulsing beneath him as you attempted to squirm away from the thrusts he continued delivering. Your walls squeezed him tightly, milking his cock as your orgasm crashed down on you like a tidal wave. Your vision blurred, and your body violently shuddered as ecstasy consumed you, leaving you utterly spent.

In return, Shunsui groaned at the feeling, his hips stuttering and his cock twitching as he chased his own release. The way your pussy held him like a vice, made it impossible for him to hold back. He buried himself to the hilt, grinding deep as he finally came, spilling his hot cum inside you, filling you to the brim with his thick, creamy load. His body tensed as he emptied himself completely, twitching slightly as he ensured every drop remained inside you. Once he was sure, he pulled back and looked down with satisfaction as his cum leaked out, thick and white against your swollen, plump pussy.

Humming, he slipped his cock out with a loud, wet slick, and reached down to drag a finger through the mess before pushing it back inside, making you whimper. “So?” he asked as he leaned down, brushing his lips over your ear. “Are you ready to finally admit I was right?”

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @edensrose @spellboundsuguru @cookielovesbook-akie @kennys-partner @sovl-society @foxycrafterofgreenwood

3. 𝐀𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐧 𝐒𝐨𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐞 — control over a situation extends to the bedroom, and he wouldn’t be one to go easy on you. He’d be the kind of lover who fucks you with a smirk, making sure you know you belong to him. He dominates through sheer presence. The kind of man to grip your throat lightly, whisper something condescending in your ear, and then fuck you slow and deep until you’re sobbing his name. Every thrust would be intentionally rough in a way that leaves you shaking, teasing just to watch you squirm. He takes his time breaking you down, leaving you weak and utterly at his mercy.

4. 𝐊𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐤𝐢 𝐈𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐨 — fucks with pure, unrestrained power. He’s not as methodical as Jugram or as naturally dominant as Aizen, but he lacks restraint in the heat of the moment. He’d fuck hard—deep, rough, and driven by instinct, gripping your thighs tight as he pounds into you relentlessly. His strength alone makes every thrust forceful enough to shake the bed. He gets carried away easily, sweating, groaning, losing himself in pleasure until you’re left trembling under him. He might not mean to be as rough as he is, but his sheer enthusiasm and strength ensure that every fuck is a thorough wrecking.

5. 𝐇𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐤𝐨 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐣𝐢 — got a mean streak, but it comes with a smirk. He loves to tease, mock, and make you beg. He’s not as brutal as the ones above him, but he knows how to make you squirm. Expect spanking, overstimulation, and a lot of denial before he finally gives in and fucks you properly. His thrusts would be fast, erratic, making sure you’re overwhelmed before slowing down just to hear you whine. He enjoys your reactions and plays off them, rough but never needlessly cruel—just enough to drive you crazy.

6. 𝐔𝐫𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐞 — can be rough, but only if he knows you want it. He’s more experimental than outright brutal—tying you up, pushing you to your limits, and grinning while you fall apart. He’d use his strength, but not just to fuck you into the mattress—he’d play with your body, push your boundaries, and make you beg before giving in. He can be just as rough as Ichigo or Shinji, but he’s more calculated about it, ensuring he wrings out every last moan from you before he’s satisfied.

7. 𝐊𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐤𝐢 𝐁𝐲𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐲𝐚 — the least rough of them all, but that doesn’t mean he’s gentle. He fucks with precision, every movement elegant yet firm. His strength is controlled, his dominance unquestionable, but he doesn’t lose himself in the moment the way the others might. He prefers deep, slow, punishing thrusts, his grip unrelenting but never careless. He’d rather have you helpless beneath him, legs trembling, than leave bruises all over your body. Byakuya is rough in an aristocratic way—controlled and thoroughly ruining, but without the reckless brutality of the others.

𝐋𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭

You didn’t want to speak, knowing that at any point this monster could change his mind and end your life. Despite how willing you were to give your life for your village just a few hours before, you were curious about the world of this demon. He lived so freely, with so much sensation and pleasure. You felt greedy, but you wanted more.

Still, curiosity paced inside of you like an animal in a cage, waiting to be let free. You watched the dark forest pass quickly as the demon strode up the mountain, watched his bearded jaw, the fangs at his lips, the bright white of his glowing eyes. He felt your gaze on him, and smirked.

”Are you dissatisfied with the face of your god?” he teased.

Shame burned within you at your ignorance. At the countless times you had chastised your sister for speaking out against the village elders. There was no god in these lands. But, you considered, this demon certainly was no villainous monster as you had been warned about.

”Very satisfied,” you found yourself saying. You were still not quite yourself after being… taken by the demon so roughly. Satisfied was probably one of the few words in your vocabulary as you basked in the aching pleasure he’d left behind.

He seemed too pleased by your answer, and his pace increased up the mountain. “We are close,” he promised.

The slope of the mountain leveled out, and the demon emerged from the trees onto a walking path. You glanced down the direction he was heading and noticed a small temple built into the ridge. Intricate carved wood and stone in a style much, much older than anything in your village, but small and unassuming on the mountainside. It had probably been built ages ago and left abandoned for many years.

The demon set you on your feet at the base of the wooden steps, and you followed him into the darkened doorway.

A flash of red light rippled across the demon’s shoulder, down his arm, and suddenly dozens of candles were illuminated. The sight shocked you, but you stifled yourself and didn’t startle.

The temple was in a terrible state. Dusty, unclean, in need of a good brush and scrub almost everywhere. The demon was clearly not one for tending house.

“You will need to rest,” he said. It sounded simultaneously commanding and unsure, as if he was trying to remember what humans did as well as give an order.

You nodded, and he retrieved a pallet for you, thankfully unrolling it on the cleanest part of the floor and fetching several blankets. The gravity of the day as well as the long hours caught up to you immediately at the sight of a proper bed, and you laid down immediately.

”There is a spring out back if you wish to bathe when you wake,” the demon said. The last thing you saw before your eyes closed was his silhouette as he left the temple once more.

-

The dawn and the birdsong woke you, almost deafeningly loud this close to the forest. You stretched, wincing at the strange aches left from the night before. The bite on your neck was tender, and you let your fingers trail over the imprints of the demon’s fangs. The pain was a welcome sensation.

Much less welcome was the mess between your thighs, and you grimaced as you searched for the path to the promised spring.

It was not far from the back of the temple, down a simple stone path. You were surprised when you rounded the bend and found the steaming waters already occupied.

Your demon stood in the waist high water, hidden in the clouds of steam. His hair was down from its tie, and it gave him a different appearance, especially in the dawn light. He was watching you just as you were watching him, and his eyebrow raised inquisitively.

You didn’t give him a chance to speak, dropping your robe from your shoulders and stepping into the water. The warmth was unbelievably relaxing, and you sighed deeply as you sank into the spring.

“You slept well?” the demon asked.

You nodded, still savoring the warm water that somehow felt much better than the bath the elders had given you the day before.

”I hunted while you slept, found food for you. Hopefully it is enough.”

That intrigued you, and you cocked your head as you took in the demon’s impressive physique. “What do you eat?”

A shiver ran through you despite the hot spring as the demon’s lips split in a fanged grin. “Fear. Terror. Desperation.”

The sacrifices.

”Are you… hungry?” you asked, wondering how soon you would meet a similar fate.

”Quite sated,” he assured you, and it eased you, though you were confused. “You were not afraid last night at the altar,” he went on to explain. “Every other sacrifice has struggled and begged and cried. But your pleasure, your willingness… I believe I have found a new favorite meal.”

You could not help the way your body reacted to his words, remembering the feeling of his tongue against your skin, the way his fingers prepared you, the complete fullness of his cocks inside you. He had claimed you, given you ecstasy beyond anything you could have imagined. You wanted it again.

He seemed to know, the way you squirmed beneath the water, how your eyes dragged over his chest and down to what you knew was beneath the rippling surface.

”You would let me indulge?” he asked, crossing the small spring to where you sat on a stone. He stood over you, and you dragged your eyes from his navel to his chin as you looked up to meet his gaze. The red markings against his blue skin were intricate, and you had seen the way they glowed when he lit the candles the night before.

Your chin dipped in the smallest nod, but the demon was watching you so intently that he caught the motion. The water lapped against your chest as he knelt before you, clawed hands cradling your jaw.

“Do you have a name?” You blurted out.

The demon’s intent expression turned back to that fanged grin, eyes gleaming even brighter. “Do you?” He asked.

You softly offered him your name, and he whispered it back to you, as if matching your features to the syllables.

“I am Hanzo,” he said, and the wind picked up as he spoke it. You heard the trees creak and the leaves rustle at the sound of his voice. A real power.

It was irresistible. After your whole life of piety in your humble village, worshiping the deception of the elders, you craved this unknown force that was somehow fixated on you. Rising out of the water, you kissed Hanzo. Your lips were insistent, chasing the same overwhelming sensations from the night before.

He returned your efforts with a growl and an arm beneath your hips to lift you out of the water. The sudden rush of cool air against your skin only heightened the storm that was overtaking you.

Every sensation sparked a memory of the night before. His long tongue dragging against your skin. The sharp burn of his fangs sinking into your neck. Clawed hands on your hips and thighs. It made you reckless, brazen. You wrapped your legs around Hanzo’s waist as he held you in the warm water of the spring. The closeness of his body against yours was intoxicating, and the world began to fade at the edges just as it had the night before. You wondered if this was the feeding? If so, it was just as intoxicating for you as it was for him.

“Please,” you begged. You didn’t even know what you were asking for, just that you wanted more of what you had experienced at the altar.

“I promised not to hurt you,” Hanzo murmured into the skin of your neck, tongue tracing the imprint of his fangs on your skin. “You will have to be patient so I can keep my promise.”

The blurred edges of your vision shifted, and you shuddered as your back met a soft bed of wet moss. You couldn’t have cared less for your surroundings, not when your world was narrowed to the trail of kisses Hanzo was leaving across your chest and the way he was pressing your thighs apart. One of his fingers found your entrance, and you realized what he meant by patient.

At the altar, you had been so lost in the fear and confusion. Your entire world had been upended by the realization that your life was being given to a demon. And even when he was pinning you against the stone with his tongue and fingers inside you, the swirling haze of pleasure had clouded your senses.

But if Hanzo were to keep his promise and protect you from any pain, he would have to take his time to prepare you for both of his cocks.

”You’re mine,” he said, and you realized he was soothing you. Realized that you were whining and begging for more than just a single finger. “Give in to me, and I promise every second will be enjoyable.”

Enjoyable felt insufficient to describe the way Hanzo prepped you for his cocks. Despite the way you were shaking beneath him in anticipation, every second - every stroke of his fingers and tongue - was rapturous.

From the way he was slurring around his fangs and his eyes were half-lidded, you imagined he was just as drunk as you off the pleasure. His hands grabbing at your hips and thighs, squeezing and dragging against the skin. When he finally stood over you, both of his cocks were dripping with glowing blue precome.

You knew the overwhelming sensation of both of his cocks filling you, had dreamed about it through the night. Even that wasn’t enough to prepare you for the reality of it. The stretch, the fullness, the way the needy emptiness was finally sated.

A clawed hand wrapped around your throat, pinning you in place on the soft bed of moss. Your pulse was racing against the slight pressure. Hanzo towered above you, shrouded in steam from the spring as rivulets of water ran down his neck and over his chest. With a gentle press of his hips, Hanzo sank deeper into your dripping heat until you could feel the tips of both cocks filling you all the way.

“I love how you feel,” he praised, watching where his hips met yours. You wished you could see the sight for yourself. “I can’t wait to make you come for me again- can’t wait to claim you and breed you full.”

“Please,” you begged. Hanzo hadn’t moved, and it was nearly torturous to be so close to what you wanted yet still denied.

You were once again reminded that this was no honorable god, but in fact a lying demon when he smirked. “I could listen to you beg for hours. If you aren’t careful, I may grow addicted to your desperation. It is sweeter than any I have ever known before.

Your hips rocked involuntarily, chasing the pleasure you knew he could give you. A single tear slid down your cheek, and Hanzo released your neck to catch the drop on a claw, slowly licking the salt from the tip of his finger while you watched helplessly. His eyes blazed brighter as his tongue flicked against the skin.

And then Hanzo was leaned over you, bracing himself on the moss bed and driving his hips forward where he was already deep inside you. You cried out, and his long, serpent-like tongue trailed over your cheek, chasing more tears. You had gotten our wish, Hanzo was determined to make you cry with pleasure for him.

Both of his cocks fucking you full ensured that you were never wanting for pleasure, and you could have spent an eternity with that alone, but it wasn’t enough to make you come. You needed more

“I know,” he whispered against your hairline, fang accidentally catching the shell of your ear from the force of his thrusts. “I know what you need. You’ll be dripping with my seed.”

You whined, wanting whatever it was that would push you over the edge.

“Beg for it,” he ordered.

“Please, Hanzo!” You cried, clutching at his arms with enough force to bruise a human. “Please.”

“Such a perfect offering for me,” he growled. “So obedient. So willing. So desperate.” And finally, he reached between your bodies, rubbing hard and fast until you were arching off the bed of moss and screaming so loud it was sure to echo all the way down in the village.

Hanzo was close to follow you, pressing your hips against the moss and driving into you until he was panting, muscles flexing. His tattoos glowed bright, and you were momentarily afraid, but when it subsided there appeared to be no harm.

The sound of the gentle water in the stream reached your ears first as you were drifting in bliss. Then the sensation of Hanzo pulling away. You let out an embarrassing sound as his cocks slipped out of you. Hanzo saw your slight wince of discomfort and was immediately there to console you.

“Is there any pain?” He asked.

You shook your head. None more than last night, and even that had been welcome in the throes of pleasure. However, your eye was drawn to the glowing blue trails running down your inner thighs.

“That is… safe?” You asked, unable to look away from the sight.

Hanzo shrugged. He did not seem to have any more of an answer than yourself, but he was very considerate as he helped to wash you, supporting your weight and grinning proudly at your weak knees and shivering. He took pride in being the one to cause such a response in you.

-

Hanzo had indeed hunted game while you were asleep. Not only was there meat, but he’d also collected fresh greens and fruits as well as some root vegetables. Exploring the grounds around the temple, you found an overgrown garden as well as a clay stove and cast iron pot.

Once you had set the meat and vegetables to cook, you checked every corner of the dusty old temple until you found a sweeping brush. It took you the entire day to clean away the dust and cobwebs, and it would take you another full day just to wash the linens, but by sundown the temple looked much better. Like a proper home for a mountain spirit - or a mountain demon.

The work was just like your daily chores back home in the village, and it felt both strange and familiar as you worked through each task with the same motions as always but in a completely new environment. The temple was truly beautiful underneath all of the age and overgrowth. It was simple and small - likely due to being hidden so high in the mountains - but the stone and wood were masterfully laid and carved with intricate dragons.

You saw Hanzo occasionally throughout the day. Unnervingly enough, he spent long stretches of time just watching you work, standing still and silent just at the edge of the trees. He joined you that evening as you ate, sitting across from you at the low table. You offered him some of your food, but he declined. Still, he complimented your cooking.

The circumstances surrounding your presence at the temple were certainly odd. By all rights you weren’t even meant to survive the previous night, yet now you were sharing a one sided meal with a powerful demon as the sun set behind the mountain peaks. Your brush with death had granted you a boldness and curiosity that you never carried in the village, but Hanzo did not seem to mind your endless questions. He had many of his own, only having observed humans from afar. He’d often wondered at the strange customs in the many scattered villages of the land, and you did your best to explain the traditions you were familiar with.

Apparently, while your remote village offered the sacrifices every five years, other settlements gave alms and offerings of different goods. They did not sustain the demon in the same way as the feedings at the altar, but he enjoyed the respect and fear.

That night, you rolled out your pallet again on the now clean floor of the temple. Hanzo, intrigued, observed the many little preparations you made before sleeping.

“You do not rest?” you asked.

“I do. I slumber for years at a time whenever I please, but it is not like this.”

His answer confused you, but you didn’t have the chance to ask for more information before Hanzo surprised you again.

“May I lay with you?” he asked. “As the humans do?”

There was room enough for both of you, so you patted the soft bedding beside you. Hanzo undressed and lay stiffly on his back, staring up at the ceiling with unblinking eyes. You couldn’t help but laugh.

“It is more comfortable if you lay a different way,” you said, touching his shoulder to urge him to roll onto his side. You lay so you were facing his chest, slowly inching closer and closer until your bodies were nearly touching. Hanzo’s arm came to rest wround your waist, but the action seemed a surprised even to himself.

Maybe it was the final straw that caused this? Or maybe it was that tightening in your chest you feel when you stand near him. Everything seems to draw you in closer to him, from his refreshing musk to his voice with that accented lisp that slips when he relaxes and those golden eyes that glitter like distant stars. Perhaps, and more accurately, it was the classic case of liquor encouragement that often turns people to slip their truths. Though you had hidden the truth of your deep desires in your sultry lie…

“Just one kiss…friends can kiss when it comes to the swings of celebration…” you cooed to him with your wine-stained lips. 

His keen eyes study you…he knows you are feeling tipsy, but so is he…Your eyes stay on his lips as he drinks from his goblet in contemplation; the drink left on his lips quickly licked away from the sharp points of his forked tongue. One of his infernal traits you were never privy to before your time as the Gates savior. Through sheer luck, both your lives still managed to always be intertwined, leading to your friendship blooming further. Rolan’s eyes are slightly cloudy but still that brilliant hue of gold you could make out even in the greatest depths of darkness. 

“Just one kiss, huh? You sure about that, Tav?” - Gods… does his voice get richer by the day? Is it the drink, or has he always been this alluring and downright cocky? 

You place your hand on his knee, feeling the heat that radiates from underneath the cloth of his pants. Your smile is all desire, and your taunts, “Well, unless you beg me for more…” 

Rolan’s smile widens before he looks over his shoulder to see Lia dancing with Karlach and Shadowheart while Cal plays with the braids in Lae’zels hair as she speaks of her last adventure. Rolan turns back to you, his hand coming over yours. He tries to mask his grin but fails horribly. 

“Well, let’s find somewhere more…private perhaps…” 

It’s then you tug his hand, having him follow your swaying trail, as you two make your way to a dark closet located in the back of the tavern…

You practically push him into the isolated room and shut the door behind you; Rolan manages a laugh before he grabs your face and pulls you closer to crash into his soft lips. Rolan guides your body to press against his, and you can’t help but gasp at the seer heat of him; every part feels so good, and his body is so warm. His knee slips between your legs, and he gathers a fist full of your hair in his clawed hands, nothing to hurt but just to feel the want burning through him. While he’s casually adjusting you to straddle his knee, a stray thought crosses your mind, he’s…good at this?

Then his other hand drops down to your hip, and he starts leading you to a slow grind on his knee that makes you gasp from the friction to your wet sex. He’s really good at this? Rolan chuckles slightly before swiping his tongue over your smooth lips. Slipping his tongue through so you finally get a taste of him, your toes curl, and your hands cling to his robes tighter. The sweetest taste you have ever had sends sparks over your taste buds, his tongue expertly gliding over yours to make you feel every motion of him. It tastes so sweet, and you feel your body heat rise, and your nipples perk the more you drink him in. Your body yearns; nothing else matters to you now other than him: to feel, taste, and want him. Your chest starts to burn from the lack of air, but your panties get wetter with your arousal as you grind yourself on him. Feeling his chest vibrate with a groan the more you slowly roll yourself on his leg. 

Rolans forked tongue slips out of your swollen lips, and you whine at the loss. You hear Rolan laugh at you, but you’re too lost in your panting for breath and neediness for more. What’s happening? You have never felt this need for someone else before, but your mind is filled with Rolan and the need to taste him, your need to feel him, to fuck him. This desire burning in you outweighs your need to breathe in your mind; you’re drunk off of him. Through a sliver of light escaping from the closed door cracks, you see a glimmering trail of his saliva connecting your lips to him; it’s too irresistible to resist as you chase to lick more. Your lips crash against his hungrier this time, and Rolan is more than willing to oblige. Bodys melting together, and you’re feeling a sheen of sweat starting to cover your body; you’re hot and needy, and need him now is all your brain can focus on. Rolan leans into you more and pushes you against the wall, your head hitting one of the closet shelves, but you can’t care right now as you feel his forked tongue rubbing against yours, your moans slipping out along with his. His hands find your breast as you find his belt.

“Can…may I?” he asks between breaths, and you’re already a slew of yeses as you’re undoing his pants.   

Rolan doesn’t miss a beat as he’s undoing your shirt as you’re desperate to release his cock. Every part of your body is uncomfortable in your clothes as your cunt aches for him; it’s practically painful how swollen your clit is. You need him fucking you now!  In a cry, you’re trying to get your pants down to feel his fingers, cock, tail, anything! Looking down, you see his arm moving as he pumps his cock for you, fuck, it’s happening! You’re practically in tears from the overwhelming want, and you moan for him, letting him lick and suck against your neck. 

“Rolan?! Has anyone seen Rolan?” -no…

Rolan pauses and groans, lifting his head towards the closed door, “Zurgan… They have the worst timing…” -no, no, no!

Rolan steps back from you and starts helping your reput on yours and his clothes as he adjusts himself back into his pants. “I guess we got a little caught up… but if I don’t get out there, they will start tearing this place apart.” 

Your body is burning, and your stomach feels like it’s sinking. You don’t want him to go…you want him to stay… Rolan turns back to you and presses his forehead to yours, his hand on your cheek. God, his skin touching yours feels so good. Why does it feel so good? 

Roaln leans down and gives you a quick kiss on your lips, “If you… want to try again… or… you know where to find me.” 

With that, Rolan gives you a kind smile and leaves the closet; you hear muffled sounds that might be him grumbling at his siblings… but all you can think about is that sweet taste on your tongue… and how you’re already craving more…

“I knew you would come back…so needy, aren’t you…”

“So needy…” the words come out of your mouth before you can even stop it. What’s happened to you? You feel consumed…

Rolan lifts your legs further up towards your head; the stretch makes you moan before you can stop yourself. Rolan smiles down at you, his golden eyes glimmering like before, and then you feel your mouth start to water as you look at his tongue sliding over his lip…

Rolan’s cock teases your slit, the hot tip tracing over you slowly, leaving his pre cum drooling on you, the feeling of its stickiness making your back arch. You can’t help how your mouth hangs open, your tongue lolling out, begging to taste him again. Rolan’s lips curl into a smirk, 

“You’re addicted, aren’t you? Do you want it? Are you ready?” -fuck yes, you want it! You burn for it!

You can’t bring yourself to say yes, so you nod frantically, slightly whimpering in the process, your hips buckling against his cock, feeling the ridges tease against your soft folds. Rolan can’t keep you in anticipation any longer, so with a roll of his tongue and his lips pressed in a tight seam, he gathers his saliva before leaning down and dropping the wad into your eager mouth. Your tongue catches it, and you let it sit against your tongue for a moment while the sweetness coats your taste buds. Fuck, it’s what you have been craving…

Finally, you swallow and reveal your now empty mouth to him, your nipples harder now, your body sweating, your pussy wetter and quivering with an insatiable need. 

Rolan smiles down at you, “Good girl…” 

He purrs, as his cock ruts faster against you, “Do you feel no shame? Getting off on my spit? So naughty…” 

You’re not sure if it really is his spit or his taunting words, but you’re needing it, burning for it…

“Rolan… Pl- Please…” 

Rolan caresses your cheek, “I know… I know…” 

As he is coming down to you, he starts to slip in the tip very slowly… the feeling of the stretch makes your whole body curl, and Rolan still pours honeyed words into your ear as he sinks deeper…. Though his words get hazier, and your mouth gets thirstier. It’s like you have gone days without water, and as you look up at his concentrated eyes, freckled cheeks, and slightly parted lips, you know that drinking him in is the only way you will ever be satisfied… Your… craving him and his addictive sweet taste….

In a flash, you’re sitting up straight with a groan, your body is in a cold sweat, your throat dry, and your tongue needy. -shit. 

It’s been days of this madness… since you and Rolan had your hot and heavy makeout session, and two things have happened since that day.  You have a wild craving for sweets, having restless, sweat-inducing dreams that have been soaking your sheets, and your thoughts have been filled with him. Part of you wonders if that wizard put a hex on you or…if you’re in love…

With your head in your hands, you roll yourself out of bed and walk over to your nightstand where the jar of candy you bought waits; you had thought that you just needed some sweets, but no matter how much you’re eating, you can’t get this craving, this inch out of you. But it’s not like you can say anything or ask anyone about this new development! Especially Rolan, Rolan is a busy man… with lots of responsibility. You can’t be bothering him with your girlish fantasy of him or humiliate yourself by asking if he did something… not that he would have? Rolans is not the type, but then why? Why the hell does he taste so sweet? And why can’t you stop thinking about it?!

Whatever, you can’t focus on this now. You have to meet up with Lae’zel, Karlach, Wyll, and Astarion for tonight’s job, and you know better than to keep your companions waiting…  

Everything has gone off mainly without a hitch; your cravings are still driving you mad and proving even while you are fighting to still be in your thoughts. During your fight, you find yourself more hot-blooded and restless to get your opponent down and broken; you’re unsure if the craving is to blame… but with how restless and irritated you have been, you wouldn’t doubt it. Now, here you sit by the fire surrounded by your companions, still trying to relax… but you’re finding it impossible! Your body is fidgeting, your blood boiling as you suck and roll your tongue on the hard candy like a vise like it’s finally going to help you get over this craving for that haughty wizard.

Astarion must sense your distress because before you know it, he is sliding up to your side with an insolent smirk, “Evening, love. Is everything alright? You seem… shaky?” 

You roll your eyes and bounce your foot, trying to ignore his question. Karlach is next to go to your aid, though where Astarion is taunting you, having his own ideas about what is driving you mad, Karlach is actually full of concern. 

“I have noticed that too, Tav; you seem out? Soldier, is something going on?” 

You wave your hand, trying to brush them off. “Nothing, nothing. I just… haven’t been able to rest well like I have wanted… but hopefully, I will get over it soon…”

Wyll chimes in next with sympathetic eyes, “What seems to be the issue? Bad dreams?” 

You grimace… more like wet ones…. You look up to your friends, who are anxiously awaiting your response. What could you even say?

“I, it’s complicated… I don’t even fully understand it myself.”

“Well, why not pull the ears of your friends? No matter what it is, we will try to understand and try to help you in any way we can!” Oh, well… always so optimistic…

You look to your companions whose eager faces look at you bathed in the golden fire light… you have known them for a while now and have been through a life-or-death scenario together… why not tell them about your plaguing horny thoughts… okay maybe not everything, but definitely not the full detail.  

“Well, have you ever… craved something?” They all look at each other, confused. 

Astrion laughs, “Cravings? And what is that supposed to mean? You’re hungry? I can’t say I haven’t had a desperate craving before… but what are you craving exactly?” 

Rolans forked tongue in your mouth, sliding against yours while his nails tear your clothes open, devouring you, body and soul… oh Gods…

“Uhhhh… just… something sweet…”

Lae’zel tsk, finally contributing to the conversation, “This is stupid; just eat something sweet.” 

“That… hasn’t been working. It’s a specific sweet…” As you think about it, you feel your mouth filling with saliva that you’re quick to swallow back down. If they knew…. If anyone did… 

Karlach tilts her head, “Like from a shop? Can’t you go and buy it?” 

The image of you giving Rolan a piece of gold to spit in your mouth fills your mind, and you shrivel into yourself. Why are you thinking like this! 

“No! I…. this is so embarrassing…” 

Astarion and Karlach look at each other and smile. “What are you craving, Tav?” they say in unison…

“I think it’s more… who are you craving Tav…” Lae’zel cuts in with a rare smile of her own. 

Wyll gasped, and the other two bounced excitedly at the accusation, and you? You are visibly sweating bullets… but you can’t deny it much longer… 

“Is that even possible to… crave someone? Their taste? Their smell?” your thighs tighten at the thought of Rolan sandalwood and paper sent with the lights hint of musk… fuck you want to drown in it… “their touch?” you say with a shiver…

You look up at the four pairs of eyes, looking at you intently with slight blushes on their faces. With a smirk, Astarion waves his hand toward you. “No, no, don’t pause… please continue, darling…” Astarion teases. 

You throw your head in your hands, ‘I can’t believe I’m confessing to this… I just don’t know what to do? The hunger is getting worse! The dreams are getting more real…” 

Karlach leans in, “Ohhh, there’s dreams? Tell us more…” 

You shake your head in disapproval, “No, I’m already embarrassed; you don’t need to know more…” 

Wyll says, “This might be off limits, but… who is it? Maybe if we knew we could give you some advice? A plan!”

They all agree in unison. Part of you wants to tell them it’s Rolan, but… though you don’t mind the teasing, you’re unsure if Rolan could handle it… and you don’t want to put him on the spot. Gods knows, as soon as Karlach and Wyll find out it’s Rolan, they will be planning your spring wedding… 

“I…-” 

“I know who it is…” lae’zel says casually, catching everyone by surprise. 

You look at her with wide eyes… every perspective… of course, she would have found out…or maybe she saw you two? 

Karlach, supposedly catching your inner turmoil, places a reassuring hand on your shoulder, “You don’t have to tell us who if you’re not ready, but I think that whoever this is has done a number on you,” 

Astarion chimes in, “This is true. You have been sucking on those sweets like your life depends on it. If this person is so delicious, I think you go and get yourself another taste…” 

Karlach agrees, “Maybe you will find they have been craving you just as much!” 

Wyll adds, “It could be romantic, confessing your want, getting vulnerable to them. And if they don’t reciprocate for some reason, we can all go out and find you something way more satisfying.” Wyll gives you a wink, making you laugh. 

Then your eyes go to Lae’zel, who is just looking at you with a smirk. You give her a look, and he just laughs, “I don’t think she needs to worry about unreciprocated affections… though… I could be wrong….” 

Uhhggg, lae’zel has been with Cal too much; she is picking up on his teasing… 

It’s funny how desire can so easily cloud the mind. Now, here you are… going against your better judgment and giving in to the temptation to at least see him again. Part of you thought that seeing him would ease the carving..... but you knew deep down that it wouldn’t, so the torture continues.

Rolan hasn’t noticed you walk in, or if he has, he’s too involved in his work to look up from his sales book to greet you. Not that he has to; despite how much you enjoy looking into his brilliant eyes, there is something about. watching him in his own little world, however. Seeing him so concentrated, writing diligently with what you are sure is immaculate handwriting. In his focused state, you observe that he has a habit of chewing the inside of his cheek, forcing his lips to perk as his mind is elsewhere.

As you watch, familiar feelings boil forth, and so do familiar cravings....

The urge to go and just touch him, to feel his warmth again. You want to grab him from behind and, bury your head in between his shoulder blades and breathe in as much of him as you can, letting your senses be overflowed with him. You want to hear his nervous laugh, feel him hold you back, and feel his breath against your skin..... To watch his tongue move as he talks…

A rush of heat grips your body, causing you to pause and shiver in want. Tingling rushes through your skin, and your saliva starts to pool, the desire..... the craving... the addiction. Perhaps coming here won’t dull your hunger but worsen it…

Quickly, you retrieve a piece of candy from your pocket to dull it—just chew and leave. As you head for the exit, you can’t help the part of you that needs another look. Turning, you see Rolan taking a drink. As he lowers his cup, a small droplet of liquid lingers on his lips, quickly licked away by the tips of his forked tongue…That tongue... his taste. You want him. No, you need him!

Your body is reacting before your mind can fully process. You’re walking towards him. When you’re finally noticed, Rolan seems surprised to see you, but the smile starting

to form on his lips is unmistakable. However, as soon as you grab a handful of his robes and drag him off, his smile falls into furrowed confusion as he tries to ask what you’re doing. Rolans. Words, however, fall on deaf ears because the only thing you can hear is the sound of your racing heart....

With Rolan in a firm grasp, you drag him up the staircase and through the portal, the need to be alone with him completely overtaking your mind. Once you two are alone in the tower, you finally let go of Rolan’s clothes. Rolan looks at you as if you’ve lost your mind... you feel as if you truly have. Rolan studies you briefly before his confusion hits an irritating peak, “What’s wrong.. Why are you-”

“What did you do to me !?”

Rolan’s head jerks back from your louder, more cutting question.

“What? Excuse me! I haven’t done anything?”

Even When he’s irritated, he’s irresistible! You just want to grab him and kiss him, but now you two are on the verge of another argument; it feels like back when you were on the road running into him over and over ... Can you be honest? Can you tell him that you genuinely don’t want to fight but want to be wrapped in his arms? Not only do you crave for his taste you crave to feel affection from him?

Rolan steps closer, studying you, his golden, ardent eyes tracing over your fevered body. You know you must look like a wreck right now, but it can’t be helped. You want to just collide into his embrace and  tremble within his arms, 

“What’s going on? Why are you dragging me from the shop and throwing accusations at me!”

What can you even say? I think you put some crazy spell on me to make me crazy for you? Now that you think about it more, Rolan wouldn’t do that… is this just your feelings coming to fruition after finally getting to kiss him? AHH! The uncertainty is driving you mad! You suck on the candy more to help, but it’s not working…

Your eyes are locked with his lips, and you know it’s time to just confess, “I’m…. Craving you… my mind has been consumed with thoughts of you. I don’t know if this is a spell or a curse, but… I can’t get the thought of your taste out of my mind… my thoughts that have stirred with you have become more potent… more lustful. I have a desire for you that not even the sweetest of candies can satiate…” 

You look back up from your speech to see Rolan’s eyes now as wide. 

“Craving me… what have you been craving exactly?”

You bite your lip, “Your tongue… dripping spit into my mouth… while you rut into me…” 

As soon as you say it, you feel your whole body catch on fire; at least, that’s how it feels. You’re so embarrassed and can’t believe you just admitted it! Turning to hide your shame, you feel yourself wanting to run, but two arms wrap around you before you can take the first step.

The warmth… the feel of his body… his smell… Rolan…

 You fight the urge to lean into him… but fail. 

Rolan’s lips come to your ear, “I am so sorry… but then again, if I’m being honest, I’m also not…” 

You’re confused by his comment, “Wha-“

“My infernal heritage… is related to incubus… so it doesn’t happen often, but… if I really like  someone… my saliva… turns into an aphrodisiac… usually the effects are not so potent, but… the more you like me in turn,… the more the want lingers…” 

Rolan pulls you against him closer, his voice whispered and laced with seduction, “You must really want me, Tav…”

You’re trying to muster up any kind of words, but nothing seems right… You do want him… so much it’s consuming you! A hummed yes is all you can muster as your face flushes further. Rolan, pleased by your bashful hum, gently turns to you; his long fingers caress your jaw and tilt it so you’re forced to be further entranced by him. Gods… you just want to  

“You have to ask me.” 

It’s not rare for Rolan to have a slight smirk and a cocky attitude… but his confidence right now is… making you hot.

Rolan leans into you further, “Ask me to help you… to kiss you… to take you…” Rolan’s grin shows his sharp teeth off, making your insides scream. “You didn’t get this clammed up at the tavern… you nervous?” 

More impatient. 

“Rolan, help me in every way you can.” 

“By?” his breath fans over your lips, so mouth-watering close as you faintly taste his breath.

“Kissing me, t-taking me…till this burning ache subsides… then, do it all over again and again.” 

Rolan laughs, “Well, greedy aren’t you?” 

You want to push him and argue back, but you pull him closer by his shirt, “Please, this craving… it’s borderline painful, you ass…” 

Satisfied, Rolan finally eases your ache by pressing his firm lips to yours. As you feel his lips on yours, the blood rushes in your veins, feeling like a rushing wave of a refreshing excited ocean. Feeling your body shiver, Rolan tightens his grip, causing his nails to bite into your soft skin; it only proves to excite you more. Rolan’s nostrils flare as he smells your arousal, ruining your panties, and he can’t hold it back anymore; his own cravings for you are starting to consume him. Rolan parts your decadent lips with his tongue, and you finally get that taste as his tongue softly dances against yours. It’s oh so sweet taste that maddeningly sets your whole body aflame. 

Your tongue eagerly slides against his as you take in as much of his taste as you can. Hands digging into him, a small part of you scared that if you let go, he would disappear, and this would all be another one of your dreams. Roalns lips smile against yours at your clinging parting. He wants to tease you for soft whines, but he eases you with his hand on your cheek. Muttering a quick incantation, you can hardly hear from your buzzing ears, he suddenly snaps his fingers, and a portal appears behind you. You feel the whirling buzz of its magic, but your eyes stay on his. Rolan’s lips find yours again effortlessly, and his large hands rest on your hips as he gently guides you back. You two don’t part from each other until the sensation of you falling back onto a soft mattress startles you. 

Looking around, you see elaborate drapes and long curtains all around the room, paired with the soft glow of candles. Books in tall piles and other immaculate things tell you you’re in his room. You look at him with an excited grin, and that’s when you are met with his golden eyes racking over you as he undoes his collar. Your eyes drink in every inch of his rose-colored skin as he strips down for you. Your eyes trace over the raised arches that decorate his body; as his shirt drops to the floor, you watch as his hands go over his abs to start working the buckle and laces of his pants. Every movement he makes causes your heart to race further. 

Watching your thighs tighten, and your mouth water, Rolan relishes in your want; with a smile showing off his sharp teeth, he nods his head toward you.  

“Strip” 

With a swallow, you nod eagerly and start undoing your shirt as Rolan watches in silent excitement. With your shirt off, you quickly kick off your pants, and before you can roll down your underwear, Rolan’s voice pauses you.

“Spread your legs,” he says cooly, almost casually.

Why is he so good at this? Just like in the Elf Song, what you thought was a nerdy wizard is proving to be way more suave, than you thought…. And you love every moment of it…

All the blood in your body rushes to your face and to your clit; you think you’re already seeing stars, and he hasn’t even touched you yet. Moving your hands away from your underwear, you lounge back on your elbows and spread your legs. Rolan’s pupils as he looks at the wet spot seeping through the thin fabric. He can’t help himself anymore, and in an instant, he is in between your legs, driving his nose into your clothed cunt. His heat on you makes your legs quiver, and a whine rips from your throat as he sniffs and takes you in; then, you feel his tongue, and you let out a scream. 

Rolan’s tongue slides against the cloth, forcing the material to rub against your sensitive skin, making your hips want to roll and grind against him. The teasing is making your blood boil with need, and then pushing you further to the edge, his tongue finds your swollen clit, and he wraps his lips around it and sucks. You tighten your thighs around his head as you chant his name, feeling your slit quiver with need. Though before you can start to beg, you feel Rolan pulling away with your panties between his lips. With a quick movement, Rolan rips your panties off, leaving the delicate material draping from his teeth. The sight and sudden cold air make you moan and spread your legs wider. You’re done waiting. You need him.

Quickly discarding the rest of your underwear, your eyes meet his completely nude for now. Rolans once confident demeanor seems to have slightly faltered as he looks down at you. Painties are gone from his teeth, and he looks at you as if you were a goddess coming down to bless him with unimaginable cardinal pleasure. Rolan drops his underwear down to his ankles. He quickly kicks away before crawling on top of you. 

Rolan lips stay on yours as he slowly runs his hands down your body, sliding his warm hands from the soft mounds of your breast to tracing your sides with his nails, causing your body to arch closer to him. His hand slips to your hips to your thigh, where he carefully brings one of your legs up to spread you wider and wrap around his hips. Your heart races at the feeling of being so exposed and feeling his heat so close to your core. You would beg for him to finally ease your ache by fucking you. If you weren’t so busy with his tongue in your mouth, you’re not willing to stop licking up that addictive taste right from the source.  

Rolan, though, has to break away for a breath, and as you two pant over each other, looking into each other’s blown-out eyes, you can’t help but feel complete bliss. His smile is charming and tender as he leans down to give you a chaste kiss. “Are you sure you want this?” 

You groan in frustration, “Please don’t make me beg!”

Rolan rests his forehead against yours, silencing you.

“No, no begging. I just want to make sure this is more than lust..” 

“I have always liked you…even when we didn’t get along, I have always been ensnared by you. Your kiss just made me need to show you” 

Rolan smiles, and you feel him getting warmer and his cheeks a shade redder, “Good…”   

Rolan against his hips and thanks when you feel his rigged length sliding open your smooth folds. The head alone burns you as it splits you open; as he sinks in deeper, your toes curl further. Rolan does his best to go slow, but the urge to slam into you is wanting to overtake him. But with how your body twitches and your face contorts with every inch of his cock sinking into you. He knows he has to stretch you open slowly, so to help ease you, Rolan licks his thumb before he brings it down to your clit and rolls slow circles. You preen and throw your head back, exposing your neck to him. He eagerly nuzzles into it, leaving kisses and soft bites in his wake. 

Rolan buckles his hips into your fluttering cunt, groaning and growling at how your body sucks and clamps down on his girth in an insatiable need. With another roll of his hips, he sinks down all the way, his warm tip nudging on your g stop so deep it makes your eyes roll and your voice to cry his name in a broken moan. Rolan licks against your neck, his sweet saliva seeming to tingle your skin at the contact. He hums against you, 

“Gods, I’ve been waiting for this, to feel your dripping cunt around me, so soft and greedy for it.”

Rolan rolls his hips, pulling to the tip before forcing back into you in a mind-numbing rush, “All mine…” 

Rolan continues to rut his hips in and out, every ridge catching against your sensitive flesh, feeling exquisite as you can’t help but let out shuddering moans as Rolan’s cock rams against your insides. Your mouth falls open as you stare at Rolan’s lidded eyes, your breath heavy, and your hands desperately clinging to his back as you are fucked on his cock, bouncing up and down on his length at a building pace. 

“Please….” you say breathlessly, making Rolan smile as he approaches your face. 

“Please, what?” he says with a rough roll that makes your legs shake. You can’t find the words. All you can do is loll out your tongue in a whine, hoping Rolan is smart enough to understand. 

Rolan grins at your silent plea, “You sure?”

You whine at the taunt, but you’re addicted. You need it, so you eagerly nod, keeping your mouth open for him. Rolan rolls his hips slower as his eyes watch yours, completely dilated with lust; with a nod of his head, you know he’s ready, and with a parting of his lips, you’re catching his sweet spit and swallowing eagerly, relishing in how it instantly makes your body more sensitive to everything your feeling. Rolan groans as you clamp down on him, and your body grows hotter. He picks up his pace, wrapping his tail tightly around your other leg and pulling you down onto his with every thrust. 

Rolan buries his head into the side of your neck once more, his lips on your sweating neck as his breath is the only thing to cool your body in this heated passion, “fuck…so soft…tight, ah and mine…” 

Rolan’s teeth slide along your skin as he thrusts in tandem with his growls of, “Mine, mine, Mine!”

All you can do is hold on and moan your yeses; you’re his, you have always been his, and you always will be. 

His nails dig into you, and his words slip to that of infernal as he continues to build you to that peak. Your pussy clamps down on him harder, making him whine and furrow his brows as his hips start to lose their rhythm to now reckless abandon. It’s all so hot and consuming, you are completely his, and all you can think of now is the man ramming into you and how his cock is consistently ramming on your sweet spot. Finally, you wrap your legs around his hips and bury your hands into his soft hair, softly pulling as you hold on; it’s enough to bring him to his peak, and as he bites down on your neck, feeling your hot blood against his teeth dripping onto his tongue your screaming his name as you clamp and squirt on his cock. 

Rolan’s nostrils flare at the smell of your sweet release covering his cock and thighs, and he groans into your neck as he continues to rut like a desperate madman. The feeling of his cock on your sensitive skin as you writhing around in overstimulation. But Rolan just growls, and he pins you down in a strength you have never been privy to, And finally, you feel his burning cock twitch. As Rolan stills, you feel his hot cum flooding inside of you, it feels so overwhelming, and your body shakes as the feeling of being so full of him makes every part of you aflame, and you can’t help in relishing in the feeling of wanting him to burn you like this always. 

After a moment, Rolan releases his mouth from your neck in a soft, whispered sorry. You are so fucked out of your mind you can only mutter something along the lines of an “Okay…” 

As Rolan pulls out, you let out a whine as he slips from your used sex. You lean up to give Rolan a smile and perhaps some praise, and as you do, you see Rolan’s luminescent eyes glued to your sex. Rolan watches as his seed drools out; Rolan groans as he takes his thumb and gathers the mixing of both your releases on his digit and brings it to his mouth, licking it up and moaning at the taste. Your breath catches at the sight, and before you can say anything, your legs are spread and hooked over Rolans shoulders. His breath is so desperate as he watches your glistening sex drool. 

You bite your lip and raise your hips closer to his waiting mouth; Rolan moans before his eyes flicking to yours, “It’s all yours…” 

Rolan smiles as he licks a long strip up your sex, gathering the taste on his tongue. It only spurs him on more, and as he keeps eating both your releases from within you, moaning and purring as his tongue slips in and out. You squirm as your second high fastly approaches, but Rolan only responds to your whines by digging his nails into your ass to help you grind on his face as you hold on his horns like a lifeline. 

It all reaches a peak as you’re cumming in a blinding passion, as Rolan drinks and slurps it all from you till there’s nothing left and your voice is raw. Rolan leans back up and licks his lips. 

“I think I’m going to be the one who is addicted to your sweet taste…” 

All you can do is laugh as he comes up, and again so, he’s holding you closely to his chest.

“I think we are just addicted to each other…”  

The former Espada held a surprising amount of patience in that moment. His eyes stayed on you, watching as your hips snapped forward at a faster pace. You were desperate in your attempt to reach that fifth orgasm. Every fiber in your body burned as your soaking cunt rode back and forth on his thigh. It was absolute torture, and yet you couldn't stop yourself. Not that you could, anyway. He wouldn't let you.

"Grimmjow," you whined. He only gave you that sly smirk of his as he continued watching you. His arms remained draped across the back of the couch, making his intention of not assisting you very clear. Or so you thought. He gave his leg a slight bounce, watching as you whined again and dug your nails deeper into his shoulder.

"Desperate?" He asked, eyes narrowing once you looked back up at him. Your lips parted to answer, only to yelp when he bounced his leg again. The sensation pleased your little pussy, and he knew it. He was a goddamn tease and he enjoyed every bit of it.

You, on the other hand, couldn't take it anymore. Your body ached and you were nothing but a crying mess now. "Wanna cum," you sniffled. God, it was music to his ears.

"Look at you," he mused, his smirk broadening at your pathetic self, "cryin' like a little bitch." This only made you cry even more. "You wanna cum? Then cum, slut."

It was a demand you knew to obey. He wasn't going to help you, yet you couldn't go on any longer. Your body was already at its limit with pleasure. "Please," you begged.

"Eh?" Grimmjow cocked a brow, still smirking. "What was that?"

"Please," you begged once more, your voice a little louder this time.

All he did was stare at you as if he didn't hear you. Or maybe he ignored your begging. Either way, you couldn't do it anymore. Your hips slowed until fully stopping, and this caused him to click his tongue. "I didn't tell you to stop."

"I can't," you sniffled. Your body was just too tired to keep fucking his thigh like this. "I'm tired."

His brows furrowed and he shifted his body before placing his hands on your hips. His fingers gently squeezed your exposed flesh, causing you to gasp at his sudden touch. "Gotta do everything myself, huh? Can't do anything without me." He didn't seem irritated, despite how he sounded, but you never could tell with him sometimes.

Your lips parted to speak up, but all that came out was a strangled moan as he yanked your hips forward. Your swollen clit rubbed against his leg at a pace much faster than the one you were doing earlier, and the friction was starting to build the pleasure back up inside of you. It was enough to get you crying again. Whining out to him that it was too much, only to be ignored as he kept moving you against his thigh.

Grimmjow bounced his leg every now and then to add more friction. It seemed to work well as he felt your arousal soaking his pants once again. You started panting harder and harder, gasping and clutching at his shoulders. He knew you were close and he was determined to send his pretty, little slut straight over the edge. All it took was one more bounce of his leg, one more harsh pull of your hips, and you finally came undone.

A sharp cry ripped from your throat as a sudden and long awaited wave of pleasure crashed over you. The former Espada smirked at the way you lost control. His eyes glanced down and watched as the wet spot on his pants grew larger shortly after. He was about to comment on it when he suddenly felt your body lean into him as exhaustion took over.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's).

First and foremost, if Aizen sticks around with you, it is most likely because he has developed an addiction to you and your body. He adores you. He is the type of man that, in the privacy of his bedroom, worships the body of his partner like a preacher.

When it comes to his favorite body part of you he is conflicted between your neck and your ass. Aizen loves kissing the tender flesh of your neck. It is not only because he loves hearing your soft moans as he nibbles at that area, or runs his tongue on it. Surprisingly, it is because he thinks it is a vulnerable part of your body. He could choke the life out of you, or snap your neck like a twig, if he wanted, yet he chooses to kiss you.

Your ass is simply his lustful side trying to take over his rationality. He loves squeezing it, spanking it and watching the way it wiggles, as he takes you from behind.

His own favorite body parts are his hands. They are large, calloused, a source of power: they are the hands that hold swords, but also caress your body each and every night.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically).

He does not really like to get his partner and his own body messy and sticky. Therefore, he is always going to release his seed into you. He does not really care where, all it matters is that your body has to absorb it. Yet, he might have a little preference.

Sosuke is truly into making you swallow his cum. Finishing into your mouth grants him an amount of pleasure and satisfaction without precedents.

Do not disappoint him and let this man stare down at you with an unnerving expression plastered over his face. He would probably be the type to groan in pleasure and watch you swallow, as an harsh command, sounding like a threat, left his lips “Do not let a single drop go to waste”.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs).

This man has a thing for mirror sex. Why? It is pretty much self-explenatory. He loves to admire your bodies pressed against each other as you allow lust to envelope you. Yet, he just cannot resist watching the way you moan for him, the way you blush and the lewd faces you make, as he takes you like that.

He likes to grip your hair and force you to watch your reflections in the mirror, because you need to see the way he can easily break you and carve into your mind the picture of him dominating you to exhaustion. It is another reminder for you that no one could ever do the same thing to you.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

Being an handsome and manipulative man, Aizen has a lot of experience and he definitely knows what he is doing. He can make you scream in pleasure and for help to the point where you lose yourself and your senses seem to be completely under his control. Sometimes, it is hard to understand if he is involving his Zanpakuto into it. It feels unreal, too good to be true.

He has also been alone for a long time now. Do not be that surprised. He knows how to break you and put you back together.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

This man does not stick to one position during your sessions. He loves to manhandle you, watch you unravel in pure ecstasy before his brown chocolate eyes and switch positions every now and then. His favorite ones are probably missionary and doggy, but he definitely do not disdain reverse cowgirl.

As for missionary, having you underneath him grants him the chance to look you straight in the eyes as he ruins you. He draws so much pleasure in wrapping his hand around your neck and choking you, as he thrusts into you to chase his orgasm. You look so pathetic and adorable as you scream his name at his face. Also, he can grasp your thighs and drape your legs over his shoulders to push even deeper into you. Bitemarks and dirty talk are a must.

What man does not have a thing for doggy? It is degrading, animalistic and it makes him feel even more in control of your body. Your head is probably going to be pushed onto the pillow as he snaps his hips back and forth into you. The lewd sounds of skin against skin make you feel like a whore and he smirks at that thought.

The reverse cowgirl is the cherry on top. He always have to be in control and if you simply rode him, it would somehow give you the chance to take the lead. He cannot allow that. His chiseled abs and toned chest pressed against your back, his shaft deep into you and his mouth close to your ear are such an addiction. If you whimper too much, he will wrap one hand around your neck and tighten his grip around your waist with the other. You cannot escape him, get that insidr your head.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.).

Aizen has mastered a poker face you could never crack in any way. Even when he indulges in steamy activities with you, he is not going to joke or fool around. He simply focuses his whole attention on you and tries to break you through his sadistic grins and dirty remarks. Do not expect anything else from him. This is all you are going to get.

Maybe, a dark chuckle might erupt from his throat as he watches you crumble on the bed drained by his ministrations. He loves the way you always let him take the lead. Your submission tickles his ego and amuses him quite a bit.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He loves to he cleaned and tidy. Yet, he does not shave completely as he wants some part of his masculinity to still be present. The carpet matches the drapes but they hair are well trimmed, groomed and short.

The V line has short dark brown trail of hair leading down to his groin and, honestly, when he ambles around the room wearing only his boxers, it is hard not to drool on the carpet.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Aizen Sosuke does not care about anyone, except for you. Despite his algid personality, he deeply cares about you. Intimacy is a must and it is shown through his actions and glances. On some softer words slipping his lips as he reassures and you during your times together.

“You are doing amazing” he whispers as you wince for a slight sting of pain, his tip now kissing your cervix as he grants you some time to adjust to his size.

It might sound corny for someone like him, and he watch himself from talking about it, but he loves holding your hands during the act.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Never. Really. If you are not around, he would rather fight back his carnal urges instead of getting his own hands dirty. He believes it is not his job to drag himself to the edge and he can perfectly live without masturbating anyway. He is also too self-assured and firmly believes he could have anyone at any given time to get him rid of his biological necessities.

He is the type of man who simply likes to have a complete intercourse instead of pleasuring himself alone. If he cannot really resist anymore and you two cannot have a moment of intimacy due to the lack of time, then he would just ask you to do it for him.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks).

This man has a lot of kinks. Most of them aim to make you bend the knee, ensure his dominance over you and make you abandon yourself to him. Aizen is into spanking and, sometimes, even face slapping. It is not like he is going to leave you battered, or badly beaten up. He would never go that far, not when he has come to terms with the fact that he loves you.

He likes to leave some handprints on your arses, though. His hands are large and they are a source of power for him. Using them to tame you is absolutely great. It is a good way to assert dominance too, after all.

The former Captain of the Fifth Division is into choking too. When he feels particularly hungry for you, he would even venture into spitting into your mouth as your lips were parted for gasping for air. He wants you to be his and his alone.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

In the privacy of his bedroom, or anywhere at your place. He does not really mind having his way with you in your residence in the world of the livings. No one will bother him there anyway. Beside your bedroom, he likes to bend you over the kitchen counter. It gives him a feeling of domestic affection, something he is not that used to.

Back in his residence, he does not mind having you riding him on his throne. Anyone could walk in, that is indeed true, but he gets kind of aroused at the thought of his subordinates seeing you in such a vulnerable state on his lap. They can watch, but they cannot touch you.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Wear some black laced lingerie and a red lipstick and you are going to get him on his knees. Not quite literally, because he would never kneel for anyone, but you will definitely get him into the right mood.

Aizen loves seeing you in short dresses that expose your thighs and, probably, high heels do something to him too. Elegance, sensuality, the idea of ruining you and your pretty attire along with your body. That is what turns him on.

N = No (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

Threesomes. Aizen Sosuke does not share. Once he has set his eyes on you and marked you as his property, he is not going to let anyone else enjoy your body and presence, for what can matter. He is possessive, jealous, almost toxic. Whenever you mention the possibility of allowing a third person to join you in the privacy of your bedroom, he does not hesitate to show you how deeply offended he is by your suggestion.

Marks, bruises and punishments are his love language. Is he not enough for you? Do you want more than what he is giving you? That is perfectly fine by him. He will show you that no one could ever pleasure you like he does.

You will probably not be able to sit and walk properly for a few days once he is done with you.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He has a preference, of course. Aizen would rather sit on his throne and watch you kneel before him, like a worshipper, as you twirl your tongue around his shaft. Suck him off. He does not even need to ask for it. When he walks into the room and sits down, his legs parted enough for you to take on your place on the floor, at his feet, you immediately drop to your knees and bob your head up and down for him.

His grip on your hair is so tight you may think he is surely going to tear them off of your scalp, but as you claw at his thigh, he might loosen it a bit.

He rarely blesses you with his tongue. He loves your taste, actually, yet he is the king. The king does not get down and dirty. Not even for his queen, unless it is a special occasion.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Aizen is rough, but sensual. He loves to take his time with you. Tearing your sanity and dignity apart is an art. According to him, it is like pouring the finest wine into a goblet and sip on it slowly to make sure he can savour and catch all of your nuances. There is no need to rush.

He will thrust into you with a slow and steady pace, but roughly. The yelps and moans falling your parted lips are such a heavenly sight to behold and he definitely loves to brush his thumb on your lower lip, before sliding it into your mouth as he watches your face contort into pleasure.

“What a masterpiece” he whispers, grunting as he ravels into you with a particularly brutal thrust.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He is not into quickies at all. He loathes them. The rare times he would opt for them are when you feel particularly needy as beg him to have some fun together. He thinks quickies are not pleasurable at all for you two. He is used to last for hours and take it slow.

Honestly, he is the type to fuck you during a meeting with the Arrancar instead of cornering you in a dark alley. He wants things to be done a certain kind of way.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Once you have ventured further into your relationship, he will be more willing to take risks and experiment. Honestly, you do not have to introduce him to anything. Aizen is a man of culture, a man who loves to be informed of the latest trends and practices.

There is nearly nothing you two have not tried. Sometimes, he loves to involve Kyoka Suigetsu into your intimacy to make you believe there someone you know watching you judgementally.

The risk he has never cared about from a certain period of time is getting you pregnant. He would be absolutely glad to make you carry his child. Condoms are long forgotten into a drawer of a nightstand.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?).

If it depended solely on him and his stamina, your spine would be broken. Aizen could go for about five or six rounds without taking a break. Yet, he has to restrain himself. He is a cold, selfish man but he knows he could truly cause you damages and that is not something he wishes.

He will therefore settle for two, three rounds at maximum and if you are still in a good condition for keep on going. He cares about your well-being. He does not really have much trouble in taking them slow and he is perfectly capable of controlling his orgasm to prolong your pleasure. Sitting down after your intercourses is a pain in the ass. Quite literally.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?).

He knows about the existence of toys and he owns some of them, but they are not penetrative at all. He owns blindfolds, ropes and crops he sometimes enjoys to involve into your sexual adventures.

He is a dominant man, thus making him drawn to use them on you. He loves to tie you up on the bedposts of your shared bed and push you to the edge over and over again. Crumble at his feet, chant his name like a holy mantra and he will make sure you will be rewarded. He is a sadist. End of discussion.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

The most pleasurable tortures come from a relationship with Aizen Sosuke. He will have no mercy. Tears might stream down your cheeks as you are laying drained, overstimulated, underneath him but he will continue to tease you until he is satisfied.

Beg him, he loves to hear you begging him to stop. It will not help you out of it, though. He likes to watch your body respond to his touches, to his deft fingers and sinful, but skilled tongue.

Also, pray the Gods for him not to be upset after a meeting. He will take all of his anger and frustration out on your writhing body. Mercy is a privilege and you will certainly not get it.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Aizen is not that vocal. Maybe, he lets out some louder, deep moans when he reaches his climax, but throughout the session he will just grunt lowly, erotically in your ear. You will feel his hot breath fanning your earlobe as he is deep into your core, whispering some dirty praises on how much of a good girl you are, or about your skills when you give him head.

“I will fuck you so good you will be ruined for any man you will have after me” he whispers in your ear, thrusting up into you with swift snaps of his hips. Little do you know he is going to be the last man you will ever have. Aizen will kill anyone who dares to even think about you and, probably, he would kill you too if you dared to betray him.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

The wild card is truly wild. Expect this man to ask for anal. The feeling of pure domain over your mind and body he experiences through it makes him go feral. He would not force you to agree in it, but he would definitely be the type to talk you into giving it, at least, a try.

Being a master manipulator, it is almost impossible to deny him his request.

He, however, enjoys this only with you. His partner, his life companion, his love. He would be gentle at first, making sure you are relaxed to make the deed good for the both of you. Once you are prepared enough, do not expect him to be merciful though.

X = X-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)

Under his boxers, this man is impressive. Almost too painful to take and he is proud about it. You will never get used to his size, but he knows you struggle at first and he might give you some time to adjust to his shaft.

Aizen is a grower. When he is soft he is about 8 inches long. As he gets hard he reaches around 10 inches. The girth is considerable and he loves to watch your face contort in a slightly painful expression as he slide into you inch by inch.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?).

It can vary, but you could say it is relatively high. During stressful periods, Aizen believes having sex is a good therapeutic way to steam off some tension. It is more of a duty and a routine for him, although he is absolutely driven by his lust for you.

When he is just having some quality time with you, it is purely based on his affection. It is a good way to satisfy his thirst for you and even inure his darling to him.

Since you two became a thing, he would never lose his chance to bend you over the desk and rail you until you are too exhausted to even moan.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards).

Sleep is a privilege for him. Aizen is restless, really. He probably barely gets some rest anyway, therefore he indulges into his bedroom for quite a bit afterwards. Once he is done cleaning you and himself up, he straight forward goes back to his bed and, draping an arm around your waist to pull you closer, he falls asleep.

Do not expect much of a giver, he just wants you to know that he is by your side and that you should get some rest too. He has chosen you, after all. He won’t let his darling sleep without feeling safe.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hi there! I have been finally able to post this one. I have an unhealthy obsession for Aizen and I think it shows… However, as per usual, I always try to be as detatched as possible from my fantasy and analyze the character basing purely on his personality, while writing. I hope you enjoyed it! Next to come will be the NSFW alphabet of Urahara. If you want to be tagged, comment below. Likes, comments and re-posts are truly appreciated.

Until next,

x o x o