#tkdb hcs

You were certain that the passage of time was obstructed in this pocket dimension. At least, that was what it felt like, because under no other circumstances should it have taken Darkwick this long to retrieve you.

Though you couldn’t tell exactly how long it had been, you had passed out twice and climaxed at least tenfold that, so you estimated that a full day had gone by since you went missing. A minimum of twenty-four hours, and no sign of the ghouls.

At this point, you didn’t even know if you wanted the academy to bring you help anymore. While the situation was downright abhorrent, with the alien-like anomaly in this realm having enveloped your entire body with its gelatinous form, you weren’t sure if the ghouls finding you in this state would result in a better outcome.

After all, not only was the anomaly holding you captive within its slime-like body, it had also pried off all your clothes, leaving you completely bare with every orifice accessible. You weren’t just completely naked and vulnerable, either. It had also very much taken advantage of that and pushed its alien body parts into you—one long, cylindrical appendage shoved so far down your throat you swore you could feel it in your stomach, or maybe that was the one stretching out your cunt, squirming so deep you felt it in your guts. There was also another, albeit thinner, limb that had managed to eventually squeeze its way into your ass, which could also be part of the reason why it felt as if your intestines were being unravelled with each passing second.

Not only were the appendages squirming and pulsing, they also intermittently released a syrupy substance, thick as molasses with a flavour you had never tasted before on Earth. The closest you could liken it to would be a mixture of cucumber and basil, though it was still vastly different.

The taste wasn’t your primary concern, however. You were much more occupied by the sludge simultaneously gushing out into your esophagus, womb, and rectum. The girth of the appendage in your cunt was so wide that it served as a plug, preventing much of its slime from escaping. While the one in your ass was much thinner, your rectum was also able to contain fluids much better, and had slowly filled with little hope of release. As for the one lodged in your larynx, everything it produced eventually ended up in your stomach, not only causing it to swell but also seeming to be absorbed into your liver, resulting in it flowing through your bloodstream.

As it stood, whatever chemicals you were taking in had definitely altered your state of mind.

Whatever abuse your poor body was suffering through was sure to be painful under any other circumstance, but the substances altering your mind rendered any pain invisible. All you could feel was pleasure, which didn’t help with the fact that you were sure its goop had aphrodisiac properties. There was no other explanation for why an alien invading your body was not repulsive to you, but rather oddly erotic.

Your eyes rolled so far back into your head as another orgasm rippled through your worn-out body that you didn’t even notice the people approaching. It wasn’t like you could have done anything about it, being stuck in an alien anomaly that was hellbent on reproducing and all, but it still would’ve been nice to have some warning.

Unfortunately, your only notice that ‘help’ had arrived was the sound of the ghouls’ voices. You heard many of them gasp, though some were stunned in silence, and others were doubling over with laughter. Namely Taiga and Leo.

“Y/N,” you heard Subaru’s shocked voice, his expression both flustered and concerned as he called out to you. “What’s happening? Are you okay?”

“Oh, she’s more than okay,” Leo responded with a sneer. “Little kabuki prince, can’t you tell? Honour Roll here is having the time of her life!”

You should be mortified. If you hadn’t been pumped full of alien juices and had even a hint of sanity left, you would be desperate to cover yourself, to hide, to escape, to do anything but be here. Instead, you remained still, the closest thing to a struggle being the trembling of your thighs and curling of your toes.

“Don’t be crude, Leo,” Sho sighed. His face was flushed red, and his uniform pants did little to hide the growing hardness in his pants. “We should probably get her out of there.”

“Bandana,” Alan grunted, eyes looking anywhere but at you. “Can you use your stigma to get that thing off?”

“Nah,” Taiga cut in. One look at his face was enough to tell what he was thinking. “Kitty-cat here is having lots of fun. Aren’t you, kitty? Nod if you are.”

Deliriously, you nodded your head, eyes glazed over with fog and lust. While it may be because of the chemicals flowing through your bloodstream, you were technically enjoying yourself. If anything, being exposed and vulnerable like this before these men was only further turning you on.

“Woah, woah, woah!” Rui yelled, frantically waving his hands. “That’s sexual assault!”

“Rui,” Ed suddenly appeared behind him, a hand on his shoulder. “This is a rare occurrence, you know. You’d regret missing this opportunity.”

“See?” Leo smirked. “Everyone’s clearly in agreement, and if you’re not, you can just sit back and watch.”

He began walking towards you. Just as he raised his hand to grab the anomaly, a stern voice rang out.

“Stop.”

Jin’s voice—and stigma—froze Leo in place momentarily, before a scowl returned to his face and he opened his mouth to speak.

“None of you trash are touching her,” Jin declared. Leo’s parted lips came back together in a sullen frown. For a brief moment, everyone was silent, unsure how to react. However, the situation was made clear as soon as Jin resumed speaking. This time, you could hear the faintest hint of tension in his voice.

“...Not unless I get to go first.”

if you enjoy my writing, please consider reblogging; i really appreciate the interactions.

MC & Lyca - Shared Scrapbook/Sketchbook

MC & Lyca share a scrapbook/sketchbook that they pass back and forth. Sometimes, it stays with one of them for weeks at a time before being returned, pages filled with proof that the other is thinking of them, becoming so thick with memories and affection that the spine is completely falling apart, book held closed by a ribbon.

Lyca fills his pages with sketches of interesting anomalies he encountered at the Jabberwock safari park, memorable events like his late night walks with Ed or learning to make a new drink at Rui's bar, and doodles all over MC's pages.

MC likes to make her spreads interactive for Lyca, creating "I-Spy" pages or "favourites" pages for her and Lyca to share recommendations with each other. She tapes in annotated polaroids of updates in her life.

MC loves to add notes in the margins reacting to Lyca's drawings in colourful glitter pen.

Sometimes, Lyca adds a drawing that directly references something MC did weeks ago, proving he noticed even if he didn't say anything at the time.

MC, Lyca, Subaru - The Unofficial Snail Mail Club

It started as a practical exercise to help Lyca improve his writing, but has since become a full-blown ritual cherished by the three of them.

MC's letters and envelopes are covered in stickers and stuffed to the brim with washi tape, photos, tea bags, candy, and small handmade charms (pins, buttons, matching phone straps, etc.). Her letters are chatty, warm, and slightly messy, written as if she were talking to them directly.

Subaru's letters are written in immaculate handwriting, often practicing traditional Japanese calligraphy. His wording is thoughtful and restrained, but sincere. He likes to include carefully folded origami (cranes, flowers, stars, etc.). He has made a lot of special stationery orders at the campus store to import the most fancy paper and writing supplies.

Lyca's letters are shorter, sometimes awkwardly phrased, and full of crossed-out mistakes and ink blotches, but the contents are always incredibly earnest and heartfelt. He always includes drawings on a separate sheet of paper in case they don't get what he means.

MC & Kaito - Thrift Flips & DIY

MC loves to handmake cards and gifts, and so does Kaito, so they naturally bond over crafting together. They are both super thrifty and good at turning "trash" into beautiful, functional, one-of-a-kind pieces.

They build a craft table together, so they have somewhere to work on all their projects.

MC & Romeo - Respected Craftsmanship

MC sometimes gifts her thrift flips to Romeo.

At first, he's deeply offended by the idea of receiving something secondhand, but he comes to respect the creativity, craftsmanship, and uniqueness of the gifts. MC always pays attention to the details of how Romeo would specifically use/like the item.

He loves the fact that no one else owns anything like it, treasuring them far more than mass-produced luxury goods.

Romeo eventually commissions MC for her work and when he finds out that Kaito helps her with these projects, he starts scheming of ways to exploit Kaito's skill to not only collect on his debts, but potentially even profit off him.

MC, Jiro & Yuri - Stickers & Check-Ups

Jiro and Yuri discover that stickers are an extremely effective way to calm MC during medical check-ups. Yuri initially objects because he thinks it's childish, but hey, if it works, it works! He reluctantly indulges her. Jiro implements the sticker reward system immediately, no questions asked. It's clearly efficient and effective.

Jiro allows MC to sticker his notebooks and clipboard, pretty much anything as long as it's not patient files and official reports. He never comments on it even as his workspace becomes increasingly colourful.

Yuri complains loudly but secretly finds it comforting. Jiro is especially amused by Yuri walking around unaware of the stickers on the back of his labcoat.

You knew you’d have to pay him back eventually. It wasn’t something he ever explicitly stated, but you weren’t so naïve as to believe otherwise. Your parents had taught you from an early age—there’s no such thing as a free lunch.

Yet, you still accepted his gifts. You weren’t sure what it was that compelled you to do so; whether it be your general depravity of affection, the sickeningly dazzling feeling of being ‘special,’ or the mere grandiosity of the luxuries he showered you with.

You knew where you’d end up, and you had gone along with it just the same. Now that you were exactly where you thought you’d be, you had no one to blame but yourself.

Jin’s covers were of the finest silk known to man, both smooth and cold against the warmth of your upper abdomen and your cheek. Your face was tilted ever so slightly to the side, permitting you to breathe through your parted lips, albeit with some difficulty.

Your nose and forehead were fully stuffed into the sheets, plunging your world into an aquatic, bergamot-scented darkness. Your head was held down by Jin’s hand, his fingers entangled within your locks. His other hand rested on the small of your back with both your wrists locked within his grasp.

The room was filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, along with your muffled moans and the occasional sharp inhale from Jin. You had realized he wasn’t very vocal, though it made no difference to you, seeing as you were only in his bed due to obligation. If he hadn’t spoiled you with such opulence, if you weren’t in unspoken debt to him, you would never have engaged in such acts.

At least, that was what you told yourself. However, with each thrust of Jin’s hips, you found yourself further unsure of what you truly desired.

Jin was enormous, both in length and girth, his cock stretching you beyond what you thought your body could be capable of. Having him fit inside you was nothing short of a gruelling struggle—your walls had put up a good fight against the overwhelming intrusion. The pain of the stretch was still fresh in your mind, having only faded away hardly over a minute ago. The plea to stop had been simmering in your vocal cords, but it went no further than that. No words had left your lips since he summoned you to his room today; all your responses were in the form of nods and small hums.

Your position to say no to anything Jin wanted had been stripped from you the moment you accepted his very first present for you—a necklace crafted of platinum and adorned with both diamonds and sapphires. It was laced around your neck even now.

Though you adored the lavish accessory, at this moment, it was nothing more than a collar denoting Jin’s ownership of you—a bolted chain disguised as a dainty piece of jewellery.

A ragged breath left your lips as Jin’s cock slammed against your cervix. Your arched back—held nicely in place for him—positioned your hips at an angle which allowed for easy access to the depths of your insides. The manner in which he ruthlessly pounded you caused you to swear that he was twisting up your innards. Somehow, you felt it in your brain too; your mind being scrambled into nothing but a mushy mess that could only think of the pleasure gradually building up from within you.

Though you couldn’t deny that you were beginning to enjoy yourself, it was far from enough to ease the discomfort of his accelerating his pace. The imposing size of his cock was already challenging for you to accommodate; the sheer force he fucked you with—plowing your body into the covers with such violence that only the bruising grip on your wrists kept you in place—far exceeded what you could handle.

“Jin—” you cried out, your words a muffled gasp.

“Who said you could talk?” was his response, accented by a sharp snap of his hips; the collision felt deep in your viscera.

“Sorry,” you whimpered, reminiscent of a dog scolded by its owner. Your body quivered as he continued his relentless assault on your insides.

Jin scoffed before saying, “You will keep your hips up and take it. No matter what.”

Even though it felt as if your insides were being dragged out with each thrust, you couldn’t bring yourself to do anything but let out a strained moan—some form of acknowledgement for his declaration.

“And,” he paused with a laboured inhale. “You will enjoy this. Don’t think you have any other choice.”

As his cock roughed up the depths of your walls, you could only wonder—was it more shameful that this was occurring, or was it more humiliating that you were okay with that?

You didn’t know the answer. All you could do was give up the tension in your body and let your thoughts wander away, leaving only the sensation of pleasure to slowly creep into your loins.

You would enjoy this, because Jin was right—that was all you could do. 

if you enjoy my writing, please consider reblogging; i really appreciate the interactions.

You woke up to the absence of light.

The sensation of soft cloth brushing against your eyelashes indicated that you had indeed been robbed of your vision. The chains that rattled with a heavy, metallic thunk whenever you tried to move your wrists meant that your ability to move, too, was stolen. Whatever tape that had been slapped over your mouth prevented you from speaking, rendering you completely and utterly helpless.

Your time at Darkwick had hardened you, however. While prior to arriving here, such a state would have instantly brought about terror, you found yourself only mildly uneasy. After all, such an occurrence could easily be explained by one of the ghouls deciding to pull a stupid prank on you, or perhaps—

“You’re awake, kitty-cat.”

Or perhaps you had been naïve to assume so. You were quick to link the voice to a name—Taiga Hoshibami.

Despite still potentially being able to fall under the ‘ghouls deciding to pull a stupid prank on you’ category, you doubted that was the case. You’d never seen the Sinostra captain ever say or do something that he wouldn’t very well follow up with.

“Good timing. I was starting to get impatient.”

Click. Something cold was pressed to your forehead. You immediately knew what it was—Taiga’s revolver, the small golden weapon he always carried with him. You felt your stomach lurching, heart accelerating like your body was a car with the gas pedal pressed far too roughly.

Why are you doing this? You wanted to ask, but your words were muddied by the tape and turned into an incoherent mess of sounds.

“You really thought you could tease me like that and get away with it?” Taiga asked, his voice hard as the metal touching your skin. Though you knew the question was rhetorical, you still longed to answer him; desperately wished you could ask him what in the world he was talking about.

The muzzle’s frigid touch trailed down the side of your cheek, dragging down to your neck, raising every hair in its path. You shuddered, though the low temperature of the weapon was not the only reason. It was difficult to deny—there was something oddly thrilling about this. While the knowledge that Taiga could kill you at any second was ever-present in the back of your mind, your gut—much like a devil on your shoulder—whispered that he wouldn’t.

“Bending over and showing off like that in front of the whole casino,” Taiga started—another event you had no awareness of. “You wanted my attention that badly, huh?”

The gun glided along your collarbones before dipping down to your chest. To both your horror and excitement, you realized your shirt had been unbuttoned. With the muzzle pressed to the bare skin between your breasts, it rested mere inches above the pulsing organ, ever so slightly to its left.

You heard him laugh—a low cackle that promised danger.

“Always coming into my room looking like you want me to throw you onto the bed,” Taiga continued, as if he were a judge listing the crimes you were guilty of. “You were really just asking for it. Bet you were hoping something like this would happen.”

It only came to you then that you were able to shake your head, and you furiously did so, trying to deny his claims. The pistol was trailing lower down your stomach, on its way to your pelvis—where it halted.

You didn’t expect it when you felt his hand between your legs, fingers hooking onto your underwear and pulling it aside, exposing your heat to the cool air.

Another shiver ran down your spine, which straightened up as soon as you felt his fingertips push your lower lips apart.

“Stop lying,” he growled. “You’re so wet for me already.” A low chuckle followed.

“So wet I bet—” The golden metal, now warm due to the transfer of heat from your skin, finished its trail, mapping towards your entrance and joining his fingers. “—This can slip right in.”

Your heart froze in your chest; your breath extinguished in your lungs.

“What do you think, kitten?”

if you enjoy my writing, please consider reblogging; i really appreciate the interactions.

Dusk had come and gone by the time you set foot in the Obscuary dorms. 

As unsurprising as it was that you needed a form signed, it was no less tedious for you to acquire said signature—especially when it came to Ed. If it were any other house, you’d already have the documents dealt with and could be on your way back to the cathedral. Instead, you found yourself glaring vehemently at the mahogany wood door before you. No response. 

After a long exchange of irrelevant text messages with Ed, he’d agreed to sign the papers, provided you brought them to him. However, you’d been knocking on his bedroom door for five minutes already, and the option to break it down was gradually growing more appealing by the second. 

With no footsteps to preface the pair of arms coiling around you and pulling you back, the sudden movement elicited a startled shriek from your lips. 

“My apologies, lovely lady.” The familiar voice of the Obscuary captain provided quick relief to your distress. “How ill-mannered of me to keep you waiting. You see, Rui left me all alone today, and I had no choice but to leave my room in search of fresh clothes...” 

“Well, now that you’re here,” you held out the documents along with a pen you had already prepared. The last thing you wanted to do was rummage through his room in search of one, something you knew would occur had you not prepared accordingly. “I need you to sign this.”

“Oh, my.” Not a hint of verity could be heard in his voice. “It seems my eyesight’s been worsening... I can hardly see the print without better lighting. Perhaps we could discuss this in my room instead.”

Though you were certain he could see you rolling your eyes, he made no effort to acknowledge it. 

“Go on, then.” You gestured toward the door. 

“After you.” He opened the door, holding it for you to walk through. The familiar sight of his chandelier was there to greet you, the vermillion glow of its many candles illuminating the maroon walls. 

After he’d made himself comfortable in his chair, you once again approached him with the forms. You’d barely taken a step forward when a pained expression appeared on his face. 

“Ow... I fear old age has been eroding this body,” he complained. “Hardly a day passes without my back aching. It would be very helpful if I could receive a massage.”

“No, and I still need you to sign this,” you replied, your patience wearing off faster than you’d hoped. 

“A pity.” Ed continued his lament with a dramatic exhale, not even bothering to glance at the papers before him. “I have yet to try it for myself, but humans seem to enjoy it.”

“Ed.” Your tone was curt. “Sign the form.” 

“Why yes, the form,” Ed drawled, evidently disinterested. “You see, I am feeling rather under the weather today, and it just slipped my mind.” 

You weren’t sure if he truly was smiling or if it was merely the tone of his voice that gave this impression, but your eye twitched nonetheless in irritation. 

“Ed, sign the form or I will personally drag you beneath the sun myself.”

“You intend on hurting me? How cruel.” Ed brought his hand to his face, index finger resting upon his chin, just beneath the exaggerated pout on his lips. “I am a feeble old man, you know.”

“Then you’ll have a hard time stopping me,” you responded. 

“I remember now...” This time, he made no effort to conceal his smile, his lips tugging upwards into a crescent. “I recently watched a video about something similar. Apparently, the youth these days are fond of dominant women. What was it called again?”

You had no doubt that the pause he made then was feigned, only existing to serve his affinity for theatrics. 

“Femdom?”

You blinked. The term shouldn’t have arrived as unexpectedly, yet hearing it from him still caught you by surprise momentarily. He was smirking, then, clearly enjoying your stunned reaction. How you sought to strangle him, but now your prior exasperation and vexation had been tainted with suggestive connotations, and even the mere thought of throttling him caused your mind to be led astray. 

“Ed,” you repeated, acutely aware of how each syllable sounded as it left your lips. “Sign the form.” 

“No.”

His eyes were gleaming, catching the warm candlelit hue much like a dagger’s edge. Perhaps he’d silently voiced his stigma’s incantation—the resounding word that left his lips went straight to your head, leaving little space for anything else but the thought of expunging the satisfied smugness he possessed. 

Your next exhale was accompanied by the fluttering sound of paper scattering over the lush carpet. Ed watched you as you walked forward, his eyes fixed on you and not at all flinching as you touched your fingers to his chin, tilting his head up. His skin was smooth as glass and twice as cold. His demeanour remained eternally amused. 

“Is that so?” you asked. He only laughed in response, reaching for your hand and raising it to his lips. 

“Why, of course,” he replied, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “I have yet to experience this phenomenon for myself.”

You knew the sensation on your skin was not breath, but it felt similar—small puffs of air conjured by the movement of his mouth as he spoke, albeit frigid compared to the human warmth you’d expect. 

“So, how do you intend to torment me?” The tips of his fangs were poking out, mere millimetres away from your skin as he spoke. “I am the most powerful vampire, after all, and the sun doesn’t reach us here.” 

His teeth sank down faster than you could react. Not hard—just enough for two minuscule droplets to bead up on the pad of your thumb, rapidly vanishing from your sight with a swipe of his tongue. 

Your pulse rang loudly in your ears, the organ in your chest steadily thumping. You couldn’t tell if you were livid or aroused or both when you climbed over his lap, caging him in against his chair as you brought your lips to his. The taste of your blood was vaguely present, rust-petaled poppies blooming on your tongue. 

Ed’s mouth was cold, tasting akin to snowdrops and crocuses. 

Most of your movements went unreturned; he did the bare minimum of kissing you back, instead letting you have your way with a satisfied hum. When your fingers tangled within his hair and his locks were in your grasp, you found yourself softly tugging at the silken strands, but failed to observe any significant reaction. 

You rolled your hips against his lap as you broke off contact. Despite his growing erection stiff against the soft flesh of your thighs, his face was placid. As if there weren’t a string of saliva hanging between the two of you and a glistening sheen on his lips. 

Your fingers trailed down the side of his face, briefly pausing along his carotid artery and pressing against where his blood should be flowing. But Ed’s blood ran still, so you continued your trajectory lower, fingertips brushing against the sharp curves of his collarbones and down to his chest. Briefly, you found yourself wondering how rapidly his heart would beat—would the organ betray his indifference? 

“Rather vigorous for an old man,” you remarked, your hand on his crotch and fingers fiddling with the button of his pants. 

“Your presence restores my vitality.” He made no move to assist you. 

You paid no mind to his flattery and instead focused on undressing him. With his pants undone and only the thin fabric of his underwear remaining, you could feel how hard he was against the palm of your hand. 

You kept your gaze fixed on him, intently observing his reactions as you tugged his waistband down. Your fingers slid along his length; the tip of his cock already lubricated as your thumb swiped across. Another soft hum emitted from his vocal cords as you loosely wrapped your hand around his shaft. Your movements were languid, rhythmically stroking him at a measured, slow pace. 

“What a wicked girl you are,” Ed commented. Although the satisfied smirk stayed glued to his face, you noticed the ever so slight narrowing of his eyes. 

“Apparently, the elderly these days are fond of it.” Without pausing your motions, you leaned into the crook of his neck. His skin carried the scent of rich mauve. 

You permitted a few small exhales to escape your lips, intentionally fanning the warmth of your breath across his collarbones and nape. Ed shivered, much to your delight. 

You trailed your mouth down—lips ghosting over his earlobe before descending to his jugular—before stopping just between his collarbone and trapezius. He twitched in your hand as you bit down, the dull edges of your teeth sinking into his skin. The surface of his skin remained fully intact; there were hardly any dents. 

Yet all you received was another low hum and an insufferable chuckle. 

You proceeded to nip at his throat, pleasantly surprised to see a trail of marks in your wake. The colours effloresced magnificently over his pale skin, reminiscent of plum blossoms amidst a desolate winter landscape. 

A long, pleased exhale left his lips. 

“How kind of you to entertain me like this,” he began, “but I’m afraid you won’t achieve your desired result this way.” 

“Then show me how it’s done.” Your motions came to a stop as you stood up. 

“I would be thrilled to,” Ed said. “Alas, my techniques just aren’t what they used to be, and—”

“—Ed.” You interjected before he could finish speaking. “I’m afraid you’ll need to convince me.” 

“Is that so?” He raised an eyebrow as he spoke. “Then it seems I have no other choice...”

You noticed the familiar glint in his eyes, seconds before he dipped his head beneath your skirt. The abundance of frigid sensation was almost overwhelming; his hands and lips glacial on your skin. You inadvertently shivered, the warm flesh of your inner thighs sharply registering the contrast in temperature. 

With the frosted caress of his hands on your thighs and his mouth brushing over the damp fabric of your panties, you found the prior adrenaline slowly melting away. You could feel him taking the thin material between his teeth and pulling it to the side. 

A sigh of pleasure escaped your lips as his lips brushed over your clit. Your following inhale was sharp as he flattened his tongue against your clit, sending an unexpected chill up your spine. His movements were unhurried, almost a mirror of your previous actions. Tangling your fingers within his hair, you gently tightened your grip as a warning. You could hear him chuckle against you, sending small vibrations along your skin. 

You couldn’t help but squirm when Ed took your clit into his mouth, softly sucking on it. 

“Fingers,” you told him, doing your best to conceal the small tremble in your voice. 

“My, my. How demanding.” But he said nothing more, complying with your request and lazily slipping a finger inside you. It was quickly joined by another, the two lengthy digits curling in tandem, the pads of his fingers rubbing against your g-spot. You consciously refrained from cursing. 

You found yourself reaching for the back of his armchair, your nails digging into the plush velvet cushioning as he resumed his ministrations. You could feel his tongue swirling around your clit, the gentle suction pressure remaining steady as his mouth warmed up to match your heat. 

“Ed,” you murmured as you felt yourself reaching your climax—you still didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. The vampire didn’t speak, and to your faint surprise, he didn’t stop, either. He merely continued his actions, allowing the combination of his fingers and mouth to push you over the edge. 

You tried your best to hold up your own weight, but your knees wobbled nonetheless as you reached your peak. Vaguely, you could feel Ed’s hands firmly holding up the back of your thighs, keeping you stable. 

Your breaths came out heavy as you gazed down at Ed, whose movements came to a gradual halt. He tilted his head back, the fabric of your skirt formerly draped over his head now sliding off. His skin was more luminous than ever, your juices slathered over his lips and his fingers slick as he brought them to his mouth, shamelessly cleaning them off. 

“Tired so soon, my lady?” he asked, grinning once more. You shook your head in response. 

“Come.” You gesture to the bed. 

“As you wish,” he complied. “However, I must warn you... I am still feeling lethargic from earlier. I worry this old body of mine wouldn’t be able to handle much physical exertion.”

You hadn’t expected otherwise. You simply rolled your eyes, pushing him onto the bed and climbing over him. 

His gaze was burrowing into you as you fully removed your underwear, carelessly dropping along the side of his bed. 

You positioned him against your entrance before slowly lowering yourself—as unbearably slow as possible. A long sigh left his lips once you had fully taken him in. 

“How delightful you feel,” he murmured. You were yet to hear more earnest words leave his lips. 

“And you too.” Your voice was breathy as you returned the compliment. With your hands on his chest supporting your weight, you rolled your hips against his. Then again. For the first time, you heard him inhale. 

Ed was enchanting—even more so as you leaned down to kiss him. You managed to glimpse the brief image of his eyelids shutting, momentarily seeing the graceful flutter of his long eyelashes before your own sight was whisked away. 

You could tell, amidst the muffled breaths snuffled out of your lungs and extinguished against his lips, that he was nearing climax. 

Increasing your pace, you continued moving your hips for a few moments longer—before coming to a sudden and complete halt. 

You watched as Ed’s eyes opened, scarlet irises burrowing into yours, his lips parted ever so slightly. He stared at you for a moment longer before closing his eyes and heaving out a sigh. 

“You truly are wicked,” he said, almost as if it were a musing of sorts. But his voice was awfully strained for someone who had no need for oxygen, and before your very eyes was the miniature crack in his composure. 

Oh, how you wished you could repeat this over and over again, except for his reaction sent arousal shooting straight down to your core, and he didn’t fail to notice. 

You hardly had any time to savour his reaction, because his expression had returned to its elegant poise. His hands were on your hips, pulling your chest flush against his as he moved his hips against yours. You had hardly managed to tell him before you came, walls clenching and fingers digging into whatever fabric was beneath you. 

Amidst your own partially obfuscated vision, you could see him—eyes half-lidded and lips parted wide as he, too, reached orgasm. 

Your chest was heaving with laboured breaths, and you found yourself slumping against his sternum as you caught your breath. He, on the other hand, appeared not the least bit tired. Not until you spoke, at least. 

“By the way,” you mentioned, “about the form—”

Ed was quick to interrupt you with a yawn, his long fingers splayed over his face as he covered his mouth. 

“Forgive me, I’m rather fatigued from so much physical strain, so if you’ll excuse me...”

Even with his eyes closed, his smile didn’t fade. Perhaps you should’ve flung him into the sun. 

if you enjoy my writing, please consider reblogging; i really appreciate the interactions.

“Did you breathe in that flower, Dandelion?”

You nodded deliriously, but the very act of nodding itself caused your head to spin, feeling like the bulb of a plant with a much too thin stem. Your equilibrium seemed to tilt off balance, your knees bending inwards as you wobbled where you stood.

Towa was quick to wrap his arms around you, one hand pressed to the small of your back and the other snug around your waist, keeping you steady.

“It smelled good,” you answered to no one in particular, a feeble excuse for having made such a careless mistake.

His pale lilac eyebrows knitted together, his eyes—the colour of pink tourmaline—analyzing you. His gaze alone instilled an unfamiliar fondness that bloomed in the chamber of your chest, your heart fluttering with more vitality than ever before.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you could recognize that the pollen’s aphrodisiac had thoroughly tampered with your thinking, but right now, you could hardly bring yourself to care.

The sensation of Towa’s hands on your body was of far greater importance; you yearned for more of his touch.

“T-Towa—” Your voice was breathy, dripping with barely constrained need.

His eyes seemed to narrow ever so slightly, and gone was the dreamy, whimsical gaze he usually carried.

“Dandelion,” the nickname he always used, now made you shiver. “Do you trust me?”

You nodded frantically. You felt further discombobulated, the warmth flowing through your bloodstream further amplifying your dizzying desires.

“Promise me.” Towa removed his hand from your upper back, though his other hand held you steady. He held his pinkie up—you quickly hooked yours around his.

He beamed, eyes crinkling in delight as he lowered you onto the ground. The lush, tall blades of grass tickled your skin, brushing against your cheek and the palms of your hands. In the corners of your sight, you could see a multitude of colours blossoming, soft, dewy petals unfurled and displaying their magnificence. You reached out to run your fingers across the flora.

Towa’s lips were warm on your neck, but your body felt hotter, heat seeming to emanate off the surface of your skin, lava seeping from the marrow of your bones, magma collecting in your loins. The contrast in heat almost made his kisses feel refreshing, akin to a cold ice pack cooling your feverish state.

His hands were gentle but fast as they undid the buttons holding your attire together, peeling off the layers of fabric and hitching up your skirt. His mouth moved slower in comparison, his lips plush like velvet, trailing along your skin smooth as silk. You could feel individual kisses being pressed to your neck, so delicately as if your collarbones were made of porcelain.

The fabric of your underwear was pushed aside, cool air caressing your heat as his fingers left your body for a brief moment—you almost whined at the loss of contact—to remove his own clothing.

You felt him press against your entrance, the tip flush with warmth and coated in your nectar. There was little resistance as he pushed inside you, though he was careful all the same.

A sharp, breathy inhale was dragged past his lips as he sheathed himself to the hilt; an accompanying exhale trembled its way past yours. To your surprise, the blazing flames in your loins were not extinguished, but rather exacerbated by the act. You only coveted him more.

Towa set a comfortable pace, steadily increasing the speed at which his hips snapped against yours. You found yourself wrapping your legs around his waist, a hand reaching up to tangle itself in the back of his periwinkle locks as you pulled him in closer. Your lips moved in sync, his mouth all liquid satin and molten gold as he kissed you.

When he gently pulled away—his lips just ghosting over yours—you could smell the light floral aroma carried by the wind, could feel the warmth of his breath fanning over your jaw, could feel the coalescence of your bodies merging together as he whispered, breathless.

“You’re so beautiful, Dandelion.”

At that moment, you felt him brush against just the right place, your stomach coiling in delight. His lips returned to yours with a soft breath, and like dandelion seeds caught in a fluttering spring breeze, you felt yourself scatter apart. 

if you enjoy my writing, please consider reblogging; i really appreciate the interactions.