the-hidden-pages

[the-hidden-pages]

eclipse 🌙

[the-hidden-pages]

It's a lot healthier to go for a daily walk than to sign up for a gym membership you won't be using because you hate that kind of exercise. It's a lot healthier to eat a frozen meal than to skip a meal because you were too tired to cook something healthy. It's a lot healthier to take a quick shower than to procrastinate an elaborate routine for days. Don't aim so high that you won't be hitting anything!

[the-hidden-pages]

hot artists don't gatekeep

I've been resource gathering for YEARS so now I am going to share my dragons hoard

Floorplanner. Design and furnish a house for you to use for having a consistent background in your comic or anything! Free, you need an account, easy to use, and you can save multiple houses.

Comparing Heights. Input the heights of characters to see what the different is between them. Great for keeping consistency. Free.

Magma. Draw online with friends in real time. Great for practice or hanging out. Free, paid plan available, account preferred.

Smithsonian Open Access. Loads of free images. Free.

SketchDaily. Lots of pose references, massive library, is set on a timer so you can practice quick figure drawing. Free.

SculptGL. A sculpting tool which I am yet to master, but you should be able to make whatever 3d object you like with it. free.

Pexels. Free stock images. And the search engine is actually pretty good at pulling up what you want.

Figurosity. Great pose references, diverse body types, lots of "how to draw" videos directly on the site, the models are 3d and you can rotate the angle, but you can't make custom poses or edit body proportions. Free, account option, paid plans available.

Line of Action. More drawing references, this one also has a focus on expressions, hands/feet, animals, landscapes. Free.

Animal Photo. You pose a 3d skull model and select an animal species, and they give you a bunch of photo references for that animal at that angle. Super handy. Free.

Height Weight Chart. You ever see an OC listed as having a certain weight but then they look Wildly different than the number suggests? Well here's a site to avoid that! It shows real people at different weights and heights to give you a better idea of what these abstract numbers all look like. Free to use.

[the-hidden-pages]

Kinktober Day 4 - Thigh Riding | Sex Pollen - Jaskier x Fem!Reader

Thigh riding | Sex pollen | Forced orgasm 

Disclaimer: I did interpret “sex pollen” as loose as aphrodisiac - it’s not an actual pollen, it’s a liquid.  Also, it's late, I have work, I did rush a little to get this out but it's better than another day sans post I hope!

Summary: Geralt had warned you of the dangers of consorting with witches. But you had never anticipated the dangers being this.

Warnings: NSFW, Public Sex/Orgies, Aphrodisiac, Dub Con because of the aphrodisiac but they love each other I swear.

Geralt had warned you.

Geralt had warned you of the dangers of witches often enough. Even Yennefer, a witch herself, often advised against mingling with others that dabble in Chaos.

But that didn’t stop Jaskier from accepting the opportunity of performing on behalf of a town’s witch.

It didn’t stop you from attending the gathering in support of him.

Which is how the pair of you wound up in the mansion of the local town’s “healer”, surrounded by townsfolk that were in the know, and various other mages and witches.

Jaskier had sung wonderfully, as captivating as he ever did - and to hold the attention of those as vain as witches and mages was no small feat, you’ll give him that.

As the night went on, he was free to mingle, returning to your side and sip on the wine that was being freely poured, to feast on the foods presented.

“And to think Geralt was worried,” Jaskier scoffed, in his element, overconfident in the way he often became when things were going a little too smoothly.

It didn’t stop you from smiling though, an easy grin matching his on your face. “A worrywart, that one. A white haired worrywart of a Witcher.”

“Isn’t he just? He ought to have more trust in us.”

You chuckled, taking another sip before waving your glass in emphasis. “Did he warn you about the wine?”

“No, what of it?”

“Yennefer mentioned some witches put something in it, an aphrodisiac. Makes the night more fun as it goes on.”

Jaskier made a face, somewhere between a grimace and a grin. “Oh woe is me, a witch’s orgy. Save me, Butcher of Blaviken!”

A snort escapes you as the pair of you take another sip, continuing to pass the time discussing his various adventures with Geralt, his performance, and the various attendees of the soiree.

The conversation carried on easily, until the vibe of the room suddenly, inexplicably, intangibly…Shifted

Suddenly the air was heavier, thicker in a way that was hotter, heavier. It felt as though the voices of the other partygoers was quieting, slowing down. You became more aware of certain things - men sitting with their hands on other women’s thighs, just a little too high. A flush on women’s cheeks that ran a little brighter, went a little further down than the typical blush from too much wine.

And you were very aware of Jaskier sitting beside you.

His thigh lightly touching yours was suddenly scalding you, but in a way that you felt you simply couldn’t move away.

You hadn’t realized you had stopped listening to the conversation entirely until Jaskier called your name.

You met his eyes, ready to apologize, before immediately regretting it.

Were his eyes always so piercing? His hair always so soft? Did you always notice how deeply he unbuttoned his shirt, how noticeable the droplets of sweat were running down it.

Oh.

Oh.

“Jaskier,” you croaked out, suddenly noticing how dry your mouth was. You licked your lips and continued. “Jaskier, the wine. I don’t think Geralt was wrong.”

“Hmm?” the bard only hummed, and you met his eyes again. He was practically in a trance, staring at where your tongue had darted out to wet your lips.

Slowly, around you, you begin to hear soft sighs, and the lower, hushed tones of lovers speaking to one another.

You grow more aware of the unbearable, present, nearly painful heat between your legs, and when you shift, you realize that you’re already drenched.

“Jask…”

The bard reached forward, placing a large, warm, calloused hand on your thighs.

“They spiked the wine,” he breathes out, turning himself enough that his head is resting against yours, words breathing right in your ear and sending chills down your spine.

“Mhm,” your eyes are closed, trying to ignore the stimuli coming from all senses that your body seems hyper aware of. The gasps, the quiet moans, people growing closer.

Jaskier right beside you.

“Darling we can leave right now,” he breathes, hand on your thigh growing tighter, wandering ever so slightly higher. “We can rent a room in the nearest tavern - or two, if you want to wait this out. We don’t have to stay -”

You cut him off, pushing him back. You can see him start to form an apology, but before giving him the chance you stand and move to position yourself on his lap, straddling his legs and capturing him in a frantic kiss.

It’s not coordinated, or careful, or planned. The moment Jaskier’s brain catches up to what you’ve done, he’s immediately pried your lips open with his tongue, tasting you, claiming you, his hand coming around to cradle your head and pull you in deeper. His other hand wanders quickly, greedily, grasping at every inch of you that he can.

You already don’t want clothes in the way.

As quickly as you get on him, you stand again. The bard is dazed, bright eyes nothing but dark pupils gazing at you as you begin to make quick work of your clothes.

It’s the wine, some tiny, miniscule part in the back of your mind speaks. It’s the wine making you strip in front of a room of strangers, the wine making you mount your friend in a fit of desire.

The wine. Only the wine.

It has to be.

Your hands, in their flurry, begin to struggle with the laces, of which Jaskier is far too eager to help you with.

He leans forward, reaching up to help you loosen the corset. As it’s flung somewhere to your side, he makes quick work of your undershirt, your skirts.

Quickly, so quickly it all began, and just as quickly you’re completely nude, with the bard urging you back into his lap.

In your haste, you slip a little, falling to one side and straddling only one of his thighs.

Despite this you moan, jolting slightly as sliding on the thigh offers some friction to your throbbing clit.

“Fuck,” you gasp, grasping on to his shoulders tightly, your body moving without your full consent as you seek any form of relief to the growing burn within you.

It’s too much, the feeling of the cotton trousers beneath you, offering a burning friction to satiate your need, the growing groans echoing throughout the entire room. 

It’s not enough, when Jaskier himself lets out a beautiful moan, feeling you begin to soak through his clothes as you claw at him desperately.

“Dove, please,” he begs, leaning forward to pepper your neck and collarbone with bites. Your hips rock faster, until he tugs harshly at your hair, exposing your neck fully as you shout. His teeth mark your neck and his grip remains firm, his other hand wandering down to aide your movements. 

Your mind, in its wine and drug and lust addled haze, can only focus on two things: easing the burn between your legs, and hearing one of his beautiful sounds again.

And so your hand promptly finds his cock, working it through the flap in his trousers and stroking.

Gods is he hard.

It’s his turn to have his head thrown back, to let out a loud, melodic moan to the room to join the symphony of the others’. It’s rougher than you expected, lightly due to his night of signing and shouting boisterously to a room, but hells did it ever manage to turn you on.

You’re rushing it, you know it, he knows it, but somehow no one can bring themselves to mind as you raise yourself up further, straddling him properly once again.

You stare into the bard’s blue eyes, taking in every expression as you sink down fully, gasping as you feel every inch, every curve, every vein. It’s easy, with how wet you’ve become, and within seconds you’re riding him and hard as you can.

He’s eager to help you, hands grasping your hips so tightly they’re bound to leave bruises, controlling your pace and pulling you ever so slightly closer.

“This isn’t,” Jaskier gasped out, between groans and moans bites to your neck. “This isn’t what I wanted for our first night together.”

“You dreamed of this?” You tease half-heartedly, feeling a warmth in your heart bloom despite the absurdity of the situation.

Was this bard really about to give you a love confession whilst balls deep in you in the midst of a sex party?

“Of course,” he moaned, head thrown back and eyes clenched shut. “Gods, so many nights I wanted to have you, in the nearest room in a tavern, against the nearest wall, in the midst of camp. There was a plan, wine and dinner and singing and flowers, just us - fuck do that again.”

You reach for his hair, forcefully pulling his head back to meet your gaze.

“We’ll do this again,” you promise, thighs burning as you ride faster, chasing that growing feeling within you. “I’ve wanted it too, and we’ll talk about it when this damned wine isn’t in our heads but Jaskier, please just fuck me right now I’m so close -”

He stops you, hand travelling forward to meet your clit, rubbing in just the right way that has you seeing stars within seconds.

With your high comes his, and you can’t help but whine at the feeling of his cum shooting deep within you, warming you from the inside out as you clutch each other desperately, needly, as though you were the answer to some eternal unasked question.

As the pair of you come down, gasping, panting, your ears pick up the rest of the party beginning to quiet as well. It was almost as if the spell had a time limit, you thought aimlessly.

As you came to, and the sensations began to dull, your mind grew louder.

You had just fucked Jaskier.

You were still sitting on his cock.

As you go to move, his hand holds your hip tightly, and the other travels upwards to brush some hair out of your face, cupping your cheek. His gaze is gentle, kind, but hungry.

“We’ll do it again, you say?” he teases, that overconfident smirk back on his face. You can feel him hardening inside you once again, and you shift as a reflex, causing a burst of heat to ignite in you once again. “What say you to back at the inn?”

********************************************************

They did not give me cannonical aphrodisiac usage at witch parties for nothing.

Thank you to @flightlessangelwings for their Kinktober list this year!

#fawktober2023 #kinktober2023 #x reader #x reader smut #jaskier #jaskier x reader

[the-hidden-pages]

I am absolutely FEASTING on that Astarion fic. My god. If you ever feel so inclined to write more pleasure dom Astarion, let nothing stop you. (If only Tav could have let him keep going at the end there…)

Trust me my dear, you'll not escape the rest of kinktober without at least one more Astarion fic.

Sadly, tonight will not be him, but hopefully it'll keep you warm until your next encounter with the vampire

[the-hidden-pages]

Kinktober Day 1 - 'Love' Bites | Overstimulation - Astarion x Fem!Reader

Love bites | Overstimulation | Impact play

Coming out the gates strong with 3500+ words for this man. It has not been edited, I have work in the morning, I'm going to bed.

Summary: With the promise of taking you to a quiet little piece of nowhere to forget all the madness of the adventure, Astarion pulls out all the stops to ensure you forget everything, except the pleasure he gives you.

Warnings: NSFW, Blood, Vampire Kink, Overstimulation, Crying, Light Choking, Dirty Talk

You and Astarion had always had an arrangement.

To say you bonded quickly with your party would be an understatement - having the tadpole within your mind and surviving the same crash tends to form that immediate trauma bond. But you and the vampire had formed a deeper understanding of each other much sooner than the others.

That night, so early on in your adventure, when you awoke to the man perched over you, fangs bared and your throat exposed for the taking, things simply couldn’t go back to the status quo.

It fogged your mind the entirety of the next day, the proximity, the adrenaline, the pure, undiluted hunger.

You’ve allowed him to feed from you every night since.

You played it off as trust, at first. Trust in him, a want to have him fully strengthened for battle. Nothing but business.

But it didn’t take long for him to understand your underlying motivation, the reason you allowed yourself to feel drained, exhausted, and weak for each battle moving forward, perpetually distracted by the memory of his lips and teeth at your neck. The memory welcomed the fantasies with open arms, fantasies of his hands wandering as he drank, kissing your lips with your own blood on his own, his fangs sinking into your thighs, before wandering higher…

Still, you were never going to force it. 

So, you allowed him to continue to drink, both aware of the growing tension, both refusing to move further.

Until that changed.

When Astarion came to you, offering for you both to find a “little piece of nowhere”, somewhere to “forget all this madness”, you sure as hell weren’t about to decline.

A chance to get him out of your head was exactly what you needed to think clearly.

Night had long since fallen, as you sat pretending to read one of many absurd tomes Gale had collected throughout the journey. A life of adventuring doesn’t make for the most consistent sleep schedule, and as such awaiting for the entire party to call it a night was practically torment as you tried to ignore the growing heat between your legs.

But no amount of pretending to study the Oral Histories of Faerun could distract you from wondering what pleasures tonight would bring.

When finally, finally, Karlach decided to call it a night, you waited a few moments more before creeping off to where Astarion had told you to meet him.

Any other night it may have been eerie, creeping through the woods unarmed  as the moon rose high in the sky. But all you could feel was the anticipation growing, humming in every nerve of your body like someone had struck you with a Witch Bolt.

Your heart nearly stopped as movement caught your eye.

There, emerging from the trees, already shirtless, was the vampire.

You had seen him in various states of undress before - curing wounds of various weapons and spells will do that. But there was something different about it in this circumstance, seeing him perfectly unscathed, strong and confident from the weeks of draining your life from your veins, silver hair and pale skin hauntingly beautiful in the moonlight.

“There you are,” he spoke lowly, striding slowly towards you. “I’ve been waiting. Waiting since the moment I set eyes on you. Waiting to have you.”

While the words themselves made you blush, you couldn’t help comment.

“The moment you set eyes on me you had a knife to my throat.”

“Ah,” he sighed, walking slowly around you, bringing his fingers to lightly trail up your arm. “But if you remember, I did notice then and there what a darling neck you had, I just knew it would be heavenly.”

He closed the distance between you, and you could promptly feel his strong form cold against your back, a prominent bulge pressing into you, and his breath on your neck making you lightheaded.

His hand trailed down your neck to trace the marks he had been leaving nightly. “And I was right.”

Despite how little he had done, you had grown so wound up from the endless fantasies from his nights of feeding that you were already weak in the knees.

His left hand lightly began to caress your thigh, as his right takes to untying the strings of your loose shirt, his mouth never stopping.

“You’ve been so helpful these last few weeks darling, allowing me for the first time to indulge in the blood of a human, giving me strength at your expense. You’ve been so good for me too, holding back all those little sounds you’ve been wanting to make, pretending like you don’t get wet just at the thought of me drinking from you, like you don’t get soaked from the moment my lips touch your neck. Hmm?”

Your breathing was already heavy, your thighs already squeezing together in some attempt for stimulation - it was already too much. All you could do was nod, a breathy “yes” escaping you as your shirt is undone, falling to the forest floor.

His hands begin to explore, lightly tracing up your arms, down your stomach, across your collarbone. “And you’ve been working so hard, haven’t you my love? To keep us alive, to keep us all going. You’ve been so helpful to all of us, to me, I think it’s time I take some weight off of those pretty little shoulders.”

Suddenly, forcefully, he spins you around, steadying you by grabbing your hips. You look into the red eyes that gaze at you intently, with an emotion that is so close to something like love, devotion, but feeling just slightly too forced, slightly too uncanny.

That gaze is a problem for another day, you determine, as he sinks to his knees and gazes up at you, untying your trousers.

After all, the love may not be real, but the lust in his eyes sure as hell is.

He makes slow work of the fabric, speaking up at you the entire time.

“Dearest, I intend to do exactly as I promised. I want to repay you for the kindness you’ve given me, the trust you’ve placed in me. Allow me to please you, to make you forget about everything, if only for a night. Will you allow me this?”

You nodded, mutely, as you stepped out of your pants.

He gazed up at you again, eyes drinking you in, darkening as they travel up your body, stopping at between your legs, your chest, your neck.

When his eyes met yours again, he stood up quickly, cupping your cheek and pulling you into a deep kiss.

You had thought about this moment too often.

What he would taste like, how his fangs would feel against your tongue, how his lips would feel against yours. He pulled you into him desperately, and the sensation of your bare chest against his made your head spin, gasping into the kiss as he took full control, kissing you with such a passion that you might have thought there was more to it than a simple need for release, repayment.

He pulled away all too soon, thumb caressing your lower lip as he gazed at you in that absurdly sultry way of his.

“Before I take your breath away,” he breathed out, pausing to kiss your cheek. “I need to know what you want from me darling.” Another pause, a kiss to the jaw now. “Tell me how to please you.” A kiss behind the ear. “Tell me how to make you scream.”

You were barely keeping it together, eyes already fluttering closed.

A sharp bite to the neck, not enough to bleed, but enough to make you gasp, brought you out of it. His red eyes gazed at you intently, awaiting your response.

“I want you to take control,” you speak, feeling as though you’re giving a confession. “I don’t want to think. I want you to drain me of my blood, of my thoughts. Make me cum, make me scream, make me feel so good it hurts, until I’m begging you to stop, Astarion.”

“Oh, darling,” he nearly growled, his hand caressing your cheek. “I'll do just that.”

He spun you again, once again catching you off guard. Within moments, you feel him press up against you again, this time the hardness of his cock being released from his pants, discarded far into the forest you assumed. 

“You mustn’t keep a sound from me, by the way,” he spoke lightly. “I’ll know if you do.”

You aren’t allowed much time to consider that as you feel his lips on your neck, pecking and lightly biting and sucking. His hands trail upwards to cup your breasts, slowly, softly, deeply massaging, as though he’s trying to feel every inch of your skin. His fingers lightly pinch and tug against your peaks, and he leaves soft bites on your neck, never enough to break the skin.

It had only been moments, but you’re whining, and you can feel your wetness dripping down your thigh.

“Astarion, please,” you breathe, hand coming up to lace in his hair in an attempt to force him deeper into your neck.

He just laughed. “Darling I’ve barely touched you and you’re begging. Allow me to take my time with you.”

His left hand stays at your breast as his right once again wanders downward, slowly reaching your inner thigh.

“I can smell it, you know,” he muttered lowly in your ear, and you almost squeak, flushed with embarrassment. “Every time you’re so wet you can barely think, stuck in your little fantasies as I drink from you. You do so well, hiding your wants from me, but I’ve always known, and I’ve always wanted to push it further, to let my hand wander between your pretty little legs and feel just how wet for me you are…”

As he takes a pause, his fingers reach your folds, lightly caressing up and down, circling your clit, and you both sigh.

“Astarion…”

“Hells, you want me so badly don’t you?”

“Please.”

“Oh, I’m not here to deny you, angel. I’ll give you everything you want…”

Without warning, two of his slender, delightfully long digits enter you, and you release a moan louder than you expected.

“Very good,” he praised, fingers thrusting in and out of you at a steady pace, as he resumed his work on your neck. He continued to suck and bite, no doubt leaving a myriad of bruises and marks that you would have to explain away tomorrow.

He growls again, biting a little harder, though still not hard enough to draw any blood, you notice. His fingers within you speed up, spreading in a way that has you choking out another moan.

“I can hear you thinking, darling. That’s not what we want now, is it?”

“No - fuck, there,” you moan deeper, head tilting back as his fingers reach a place in you that is forever out of your reach.

“Oh, good girl,” he purrs, focusing on that one spot. “Good girl, telling me what you want. Focus on your body, darling, not your thoughts. Feel me against you, feel me in you, feel how badly you need that release.”

“Astarion please.”

“Please what, darling?”

“Bite me harder.”

“Oh, not yet my sweet. We have all night for that, and I would quite like to sample the nectar between your thighs before tasting your heavenly blood. But I’ve left such a wonderful piece of work on your neck, now everyone at the camp will know now more than ever that you’re mine.”

“Fuck,” you gasp out, feeling the waves of heat overcome you and your thighs begin to collapse, your release hitting hard and fast at his use of possessive language.

“Very good, darling,” he praised, holding you up as your vision spun. His fingers didn’t cease as you came, immediately riling you back up, moans spilling out of you louder than before. You hadn’t noticed when he had added a third finger, but you felt the stretch as he pushed in, the emptiness when he pulled out.

You needed more, and he was clearly eager to give it to you.

“Lie down, my darling,” he whispered in your ear. “Allow me to worship you further.”

You did so without hesitation, resting back on a relatively flat portion of the forest floor, spreading your legs as Astarion knelt down, bringing your legs up on to his shoulders and staring down hungrily at you.

Despite the ferocity in his eyes, he took his time, kissing from your ankle to your thigh on your left leg, and then your right. The moment you felt your frustration grow to a peak, he bit down, once again leaving marks but never breaking the skin, marking the soft flesh of your thigh.

He teased you for a few moments before the impatience struck him as well, and leaned forward further, licking a long stripe up your folds.

“Oh darling, and I thought your blood was heavenly,” he breathed, and before you could respond, he went to work.

Immediately your hands were in his hair, pulling and pushing in some attempt to regain any sort of sanity in this moment. His tongue worked wonders, knowing exactly how to work inside you before retreating, teasing at your clit, before the vicious cycle repeated. His hands clenched your thighs as though they were a life line, and the moans that left him traveled into the depths of your core.

It didn’t take long, you were already falling over the edge again, now shouting as the pleasure grew blinding.

“I could stay here forever,” you could barely hear him lament, mind fogged. You blinked blearily as you focused on his face that was now above yours, glistening with your release as he grinned ferally, hand briefly coming up to clench at your throat. “But I have more planned for you.”

Despite your exhaustion, you feel the warmth in your core grow, another release of slick as his cock presses up against your folds.

“May I, pet?”

All you can do is moan pathetically, something between “yes” and “please” falling out of you as you weakly nod.

“Darling, you’re a vision,” once again, he strokes your cheek, uncharacteristically loving for the cold vampire. “Completely fucked out, and we haven’t even arrived at the main course.”

With that, you feel him enter you, no resistance give how worked up you are.

You take a moment, joined, as he breathes heavily into your neck and you let out quiet moans, words completely failing you.

“Divine,” he breathes, returning to kiss your neck, the sensitivity of it making you clench around him immediately. “Oh, so divine, darling I could have you for eternity, such a better use of our time than fighting all of these tiresome battles.”

He began to pump in and out of you slowly, your mind spinning from the weight of him on top of you, the sensation of being fucked so deeply, overwhelmed by the afterglow of all that had happened.

And still his words didn’t cease.

“I could keep you forever, a precious little pet, tied to the bed to fuck whenever I wanted. Or perhaps the other way around, I would wait an eternity just for another chance to taste you, to please you. Whatever fantasy you wish darling, we can fulfill it tonight, I swear to you - fuck.”

He picks up the pace as you clench around him yet again, your release not even having a build up, but instead crashing against you like a tsunami. You feel the wetness seep down your thighs, coating where the pair of you connect.

“Ast-ar…” you can barely breathe, and he laughs almost maniacally.

“Very good, darling, just like that. Give in to me. You don’t need a single thought in that head now, focus only on me and let go. You can cum again, you can, for me.”

“Can’t - I can’t…”

“Oh, you can and you will, if you want me to drink from you tonight,” he muttered darkly, and you feel tears prick in the corner of your eyes.

“Astarion.”

“You have to cum again, to get what you want. Just one more time, my darling. One more and you’ll please me so well. You want to be good for me, don’t you?”

You muster up the last of the strength you have, words falling from you without control. 

“Yes, fuck, yes please, Astarion, please I want to come, I want you to bite me, I need to be yours, I need you ~”

It was almost as though your last orgasm hadn’t ended, with how quickly this one had began. An endless torrent that had the tears breaking, pouring down your face and into the dirt. You nearly choked out a scream, clenching around him so tightly that you feel Astarion tense, cursing wildly as you feel a warmth flood you.

You take a moment, trying with all your might to remember how to breathe, mouth gaping, expecting Astarion to move from you any moment.

Instead you shriek as he thrusts again, hand once again curled around your neck, stopping any chance you had at catching your breath.

“We aren’t done,” he growled, your own slick and his cum leaking out of you as he continued to fuck you, harder now, less restrained that before, nothing but pathetic whimpers leaving you. “We are so far from done, my love. You’re mine, you’re mine.”

Finally, what you had been begging for all night came to pass, and his fangs sunk deep into that claimed spot of your neck. You felt the familiar warmth and euphoria as your blood drained into his hungry mouth, his moans reaching a crescendo and hips moving at an inhumane pace.

And he was right.

You were his, blood and body and mind, it was all his. He had consumed every inch of you.

It was incredible, it was numbing, all you could think about was Astarion. Every molecule of you was on fire, and screamed to be connected to him, to never leave this moment, to stay in an eternity of this torment, but after four orgasms and on the verge of a fifth, with the ecstasy of his fangs in your neck, you simply couldn’t continue.

“Too much,” you manage to croak out, tears streaming down your cheeks and your entire body screaming. Your hands grip the vampire's arms tightly when he doesn’t immediately stop, nails biting into his skin. “Too much, stop!”

Immediately the fangs retract and he’s gently pulling out of you, red eyes wide with a hint of a rare expression on his face.

Fear.

“Darling I’m so sorry, did I take too much? I felt you going limp but, hells you’re so delicious I must have been lost in it-”

You shook your head quickly, placing a hand on his chest as you tried to collect your thoughts, tears still streaming.

“No, no, no,” you breathe out, still gasping. “Not the blood, you’re alright. It was too much, I really can’t cum again, it's too much. Too much good, I promise.”

The fear melted away to a more familiar expression, a smug smirk. 

“Oh darling,” he purred, hand trailing up and down your inner thigh in a soothing but teasing manner. “I don’t know about that, you can still manage full sentences. Clearly too much brain power left…and I could go all night.”

“Astarion.”

A rare, genuine chuckle left the man as he began softly stroking your arm and playing with your hair, easing you down from your intense high.

When your breathing leveled out, he began to stand up, and you nearly whined.

Sensing your distress, he waved lightly. “I’ll be but a moment.”

He sauntered away, and you laid back, taking the moment to look up at the stars, basking in the glow of the orgasms and the moon.

He really had done his job, you had to admit to yourself. You were struggling to form a coherent thought.

When he returned, he had clothed himself, and had a small cloth in his hand. Striding over to you he gently knelt down yet again, running it over the blood stains on your neck, the mess between your thighs.

You stared at him, and he caught your look of surprise.

“What?” he asked, an affronted tone. “I know how to treat my lovers, darling.”

“Hmm,” you chuckle, closing your eyes. “Just a softie, I knew it.”

“Hardly,” he huffed, chucking the cloth off to who knows where and pulling you up against his chest. 

He began to play with your fingers, lightly tracing the veins in your hands and up your arms. The pair of you sat in silence for what felt like an eternity, no words passing between you, but a silent understanding growing.

“We ought to go back to the camp,” Astarion eventually broke the peace, smirking at your disappointed expression. His arms encircled you once again, and you tried not to dwell on how good it felt. “Despite your rather loud vocals, I believe the others didn’t hear us, and unless you’d like to explain to them why you aren’t walking properly tomorrow…”

You snort, pushing him off of you. “Goodnight, Astarion.”

“Goodnight, my darling.”

One thing was certain, you noted as you returned to your bedroll, the sun beginning to peak over the horizon. 

You’ll need extra healing from Shadowheart in the morning.

Thank you to @flightlessangelwings for their Kinktober list this year!

#fawktober2023 #kinktober2023 #x reader smut #x reader #astarion #astarion smut #astarion x reader #astarion x tav

[the-hidden-pages]

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

Following @flightlessangelwings's Kinktober prompt list.

18+ Readers only!!!!!

Much like last year's, there's no real rhyme or reason for whom I chose for what prompt, it's just whoever I was feeling in that moment.

Disclaimer: All of my Kinktober pieces are unedited due to the nature of writing one piece a day. I may come back later to edit them.

Disclaimer 2: I only managed 2 days of Kinktober last year. This year I strive for 5. Wish me luck.

Day 1: Love Bites | Overstimulation -- ASTARION

Day 4: Thigh Riding | Sex Pollen -- JASKIER

#kinktober 2023 #fawktober2023 #x reader #x reader smut #original character smut

[the-hidden-pages]

I'm beginning the first day of kinktober, I'm very determined to have something out within the next couple of hours.

Lets see if I can make it minimum a week in this year!!

[the-hidden-pages]

Beginning the prep, let’s see if I make it longer into Kinktober 2023 than I did last years!

[the-hidden-pages]

FlightlessAngelWings Kinkotber 2023 Prompt List!

Here it is, the Kinktober Prompt List!!

Compiled by myself and edited/peer reviewed/approved by my bestie @the-purity-pen who had made fantastic prompt lists in the past (and who also made the beautiful graphics for me)!! This list has a little bit of everything from more vanilla to more hardcore prompts so there’s a little something for everyone, or to branch out and try something new if you feel like it!

Write fics, make art, graphics, gifs, moodboards, whatever your heart desires!! Any type of creations are welcome too: reader insert, oc, ships, original works, anything!

Have fun and be creative!!

Because of the nature of the event, this is 18+ ONLY! Minors interacting or participating will be blocked!

Please tag me @flightlessangelwings and use the hastag #fawktober2023 and I’ll share your works!

Please use proper warnings in your posts with this event as some of the prompts may not be for everyone. And if you’re doing a reader insert, please work to be inclusive of your writing/art!

No kinkshaming please! I made this list to be varied so there may be things on here you hate. That’s ok! There’s things here that even I don’t like but I designed it that way so there’s something for everyone! But that’s also why tags and warnings are so important!!

Reblog this post so others and find this list and to share the fun!! And don’t forget to reblog other people’s work too throughout October and support each other!!

If none of the prompts for the day speak to you, feel free to pull from another day if you want! Don’t feel pressured at all! Have fun with it!!

List under the cut in graphic and text format!

Banner free to use for your posts with credit to @the-purity-pen 💖

Both dividers by the lovely @saradika ❤️

Keep reading

[the-hidden-pages]

Welcome

[the-hidden-pages]

some buttons for the fellow voters out there

[the-hidden-pages]

Gonna attempt to put all of my smut writing skills into an original novel focusing around a fantasy princess and an environmental activist bard. 

So excited to have another half-finished project to add to my pile of abandoned projects and dreams.

[the-hidden-pages]

I posted 157 times in 2022

That's 104 more posts than 2021!

51 posts created (32%)

106 posts reblogged (68%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@nbraraeaves

@gaybybirth

@myguiltypleasures21

@itsmissnancy

I tagged 30 of my posts in 2022

#adrian chase - 11 posts

#vigilante - 9 posts

#vigilante x reader - 8 posts

#x reader - 8 posts

#adrian chase x reader - 8 posts

#vigilante smut - 6 posts

#adrian chase smut - 6 posts

#vigilante peacemaker - 6 posts

#x reader smut - 5 posts

#tppkinktober2022 - 3 posts

Longest Tag: 121 characters

#conceptually riddlers always been my favourite i just never cared much for the batman universe as a whole until that show

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Emerald Eyes and a Blood-Stained Ring: Adrian Chase/Vigilante X Reader

Note: One of my first non-smuts in a while. I just have severe Adrian Chase brainrot and wanted to write something fluffy. 

This hasn’t been proofread. I just have a lot of feelings and needed to post this.

Synopsis: Adrian proposes in his own bloody way.

Warnings: None, beyond Adrian being Adrian, and mentions of blood.

You had never really figured out if your relationship could be called strange, or perfect.

Maybe it had always been a strange combination of both.

At the start, you didn’t even know who Adrian Chase was. Back then, he was only Vigilante. You were just yourself, going about your business, when you stumbled across the masked man bleeding heavily in an alleyway.

In a stroke of insanity, or perhaps guided by fate, you brought the unknown killer into your home and patched him up. That one incident set off a domino effect, creating an endless cycle that often had this wanted criminal bleeding out in your kitchen.

Somehow, you never seemed to mind.

It took two years of this masked man being in your life before you finally got to see his face.

That said, you fell in love with him after only one.

Vigilante had been your protector long before Adrian Chase became your lover. If you thought you couldn’t fall harder for the bloodthirsty man that was a complete nerd and goofball, you were proven utterly wrong the moment green eyes met yours.

He had always been perfect to you. Vigilante, consistently showing up with new scars and wounds, swearing that he would never remove his mask to protect you from knowing his secret identity, dropping everything in a heartbeat if he thought you were in trouble. Adrian Chase, talking a mile a minute, gushing about any topic he loved, enthusiastic about anything in your life, barely making ends meet with a low-wage job yet still greeting every day with a grin.

You loved him to death.

And you knew he loved you too.

Despite countless people accusing him of not understanding emotions, he himself was an open book. When he was hurt, he would whine. When he was tired, he passed out. When he was bored, he’d make it very well known. So, the moment he felt love for you, pure and true love, you knew immediately.

It was shown every day when he protected you so viciously. It was clear in his eyes every minute he looked at you, sappy grin on his face. It was apparent in every hand-picked gift and every gesture.

And that was that.

He was yours and you were his.

It went on that way for another year.

You couldn’t say it was all sunshine and rainbows. There were moments, of course, where Adrian would find your emotions hard to read, and react inappropriately. There were days where he would come home, beyond bloody and bruised from his night job, and you’d lose your cool, upset by the harm that had come to him.

But you two had always walked it off, always stuck it out.

And so, nothing struck you as odd the night he once again stumbled into your shared apartment, Vigilante suit torn to shreds, mask off in his hands as he gasped for air, bracing himself on the wall.

“Hi honey,” the green-eyed man grunted out, grin on his face despite the clear pain in his eyes. “I’m home.”

“And what sort of time do you call this?” you play along, gently guiding him to the kitchen in your normal routine.

“Work kept me late,” he huffed, thumping down in one of two wooden chairs. A gloved and bloodied hand reached up to cup your cheek, and he pulled you forward into a chaste kiss. You only give in for a moment, before backing away.

“Where’d you get got?”

Adrian speaks through his pout. “Knife slashed my side, that’s all.”

“That’s all, he says,” you mutter, walking to the counter to grab a damp cloth and some gauze. “Armor off, please, and spare me the jokes about me wanting you naked.”

See the full post

365 notes - Posted March 7, 2022

#4

Throw Me Instead - Earth-2 Harrison Wells x Fem!Reader SMUT

Oops here comes another one, I have a thing for the Earth-2 DILF who would’ve guessed?  Happy 2022 all, and sorry if you’re waiting on an Arcane fic, this one was sitting half-finished in my drafts since early November.

Word Count: 3000+

Synopsis: It wasn’t uncommon for you to tease. It wasn’t uncommon for Harry to rage. One day, however, the combination of your two personalities clashed.

Warnings: NSFW, Lab Sex, Wall Sex, Desk Sex, Light Exhibitionism, Angry Sex, Possessiveness, Choking, Unprotected Sex, Dirty Talk, Use of Sir/Princess

It wasn’t uncommon for you to tease. In fact, if you weren’t throwing flirtatious or sexual remarks at the team, they’d often wonder if something was wrong.

Harry took note of your antics rather quickly.

The first time he noticed it, you had hit Cisco with the line “Your hair looks great today! You mind if I pull it?” The younger man had laughed off the proposition, instead gushing with you for a few moments about the ridiculously perfect hair day he was having. Harry had wondered if you two were a couple, or perhaps dancing around the matter, before brushing it off.

The next time, it was a comment towards Caitlin, promptly after you had been injured in a meta fight. You had asked her if she was going to enjoy playing doctor with you, right before you passed out due to pain.

Next it was Iris, who had walked into the Cortex in a stunning dress and heels. She had asked you if she could borrow a necklace from you, to which you had informed her that she could do anything to you, wearing that dress.

Nearly every time a remark came out of your mouth, no one commented or looked remotely upset. Most had accepted that your flirting was how you showed your friends love and took it as such.

Nearly every time.

The first day you flirted with Harry, quite some time after he had joined the team, you were delivering an order of Big Belly Burger to the certified genius. Bag in hand and precariously balancing two milkshakes in the other, you drop most of it in front of the man.

Sipping from your shake, you look the man up and down as he continues to work, not acknowledging your existence. The moment allows you to fully take him in, appreciating the way he filled out his black t-shirt and pants, the messy hair that had clearly not been combed in some time. Then you notice something new, something he wasn’t wearing when he arrived.

“Damn, Hare,” you grin, straw between your teeth as you caught his attention. “You should keep those on. Glasses add a whole new layer of sex appeal to ya.”

You whirl around, not bothering to stay as Harry fumbles with the tool he’s holding.

After the first encounter, you had begun to flirt with him more. Harry couldn’t tell if you were doing so more with him than the others – after all, he didn’t make it a habit to “hang around” the others, as they so put it – but he could determine one thing.

He hated it.

He hated that you were flirting.

He hated that you were flirting with him the same way you did with everyone else.

Everything about you just…infuriated him.

The ease of which you communicated. How everyone seemed to like you. How you could give affection to everyone in a heartbeat. How effectively you seemed to get through to him.

You were a distraction, he told himself.

A kind, sweet, infectious distraction.

A distraction with more kindness than he had any right to, with more patience than he could ask for.

A distraction with a ridiculously beautiful smile, stunning eyes.

And your ass -

Harry shook his head at that. He couldn’t afford to be thinking like that, not with Zoom still on the loose.

You’re a distraction.

That’s all there was to it.

See the full post

379 notes - Posted January 1, 2022

#3

Kinktober Day 1 - Dirty Talk - Tangerine x Fem!Reader

Disclaimers: I’ve never done a Kinktober. These pieces are rushed. As a result they may be poorly written and OOC. Apologies in advance.

Summary: On a job, through an earpiece, Tangerine learns how easily influenced you are by his words. 

Warnings: NSFW, Dirty Talk, no actual smut though.

There was the odd job that The Twins would be assigned that they couldn’t do alone.

Specifically, any infiltration that required a woman’s touch, or a job that required 3 parties. Not to mention, the odd time where one of the twins were ill or recovering from a wound.

The Twins may be some of the bests in the business, but even they had to outsource sometimes, all for the sake of a job well done.

So, on those rare occasions, The Twins would outsource to you.

The third fruit, Lemon would excitedly say.

You were quite endeared to The Twins – a fact that was rather dangerous, given your respective lines of work. But the moment you met the pair, your heart warmed as you listened to Lemon excitedly talk over his brother.

“I’m not quite sure who you are yet – could be a Daisy, sweet and reliable that one…”    

 “Lemon.”

“Or an Annie, can’t forget about her.”

“Lemon.”

“Mind, there’s no reason you couldn’t be a male train – sexist of me, I’m sorry bruv –“

“Lemon!” Tangerine snapped, whacking his arm.

“Oi! What, mate?”

“Much as I’d love to go on about which fuckin’ Thomas the Train she is, we have precious little time before she needs to make a move. So –“

“It’s Thomas the Tank Engine,” you interject.

Tangerine paused for a moment before turning to you, eyes widened ever-so-slightly.

“What?”

“It’s not Thomas the Train, it’s Thomas the Tank.”

Lemon laughed excitedly as Tangerine attempted to collect himself.

“It doesn’t bloody matter, does it? Now, did you read the briefing I sent ya?”

“Oh, was I supposed to? I thought you’d just explain on the way.”

A heavy silence hung over the group.

“We should call her Lime.”

“Lemon!”

Despite the annoyance that radiated off of Tangerine in that moment, a strange partnership had formed. You and Lemon got along swimmingly, and you thrived on getting under Tangerine’s skin.

A completely healthy office relationship, you would chuckle to yourself.

See the full post

645 notes - Posted October 1, 2022

#2

Peeping Tom: Adrian Chase/Vigilante x Fem!Reader SMUT

I’ve seen a couple of fics now touching on Adrian being a bit of a voyeur. I’d like to first agree with you all, but raise you that the Reader is also a complete exhibitionist. Again, a bit darker then I’m used to writing for, but it seems this dork is bringing out a lot of my hidden interests.

I’d also like to apologize for any errors that may exist, this fic was primarily written with wine in my system, likely explaining how horny it it. Very much self-indulgent, not at all a real-world scenario, just pure filth that smut fics are meant to be.

Enjoy 4.9k+ words of my mind being horny for this moron.

Synopsis: After meeting a customer in Fennel Fields, Adrian follows her home, struck by her obvious perfection. Obsessed, he continues to stalk her as Vigilante. Until one night, the tables turn, and he receives a little more than he bargains for.

Warnings: NSFW. Unprotected Sex. Clear Obsession. Bondage. Stalker!Adrian. Voyeurism. In a turn of events, Exhibitionist Reader! Consensual Non-Consent (Adrian definitely non-consensually watching her, but Reader doesn’t end up minding and sort of knows, so, use your better judgment there). Adrian being Adrian.

It started innocent; Adrian swears it to this day. An innocent crush, that’s all it was. He had been working another dull shift at Fennel Fields, mind in a haze of daydreams, old D&D plots he had never fully worked out back in his prime of playing, and work that had to be done that night as Vigilante. There was also music playing in the back of his mind. Crab Rave. He hadn’t been able to shake it all day. Then you had walked in, and it was like the record player that was his mind came to a screeching halt.

You were perfect.

Everything about you. Your eyes drew him right in when they met his. Your hair looked soft, touchable. Your skin, funnily enough, also looked touchable. Your neck looked markable. Your lips looked kissable. You sat at a booth alone, and he worried for a moment that someone would be joining you. A date, a partner. But then you pulled out your laptop and his heart sung – you were there to work. You’d be staying. He noticed the stickers on your computer – icons from classic video games, an N64 controller, a D20, a Pokémon (was it your favourite, he wondered?), a skull.

You were perfect.

His thoughts were of you his entire shift. He snuck a glance as often as he could when his coworkers weren’t looking, when he was certain you were focused on your computer. Adrian wondered what you were doing, your fingers typing so quickly, your eyes never leaving the screen even as you shovelled forkfuls of food into your mouth.  It couldn’t be something illegal, could it? Planning a drug exchange, stealing personal data, plotting a heist? No, you couldn’t do that. You were perfect. But he had to check.

Luckily, he had the excuse. On one of his rounds, he stopped at your table, gesturing to your now empty plate. “Can I clear this for you?” You looked up quickly, eyes filled with surprise for a moment, before filling with kindness. Adrian wondered what those eyes would look like full of gratitude, of love, of lust. Pleading, begging, crying, rolled to the back of your head – “I’d appreciate that, thank you,” you sigh, flopping back in the booth with your arm coming up to rest along the back of it. Adrian reached for the plate, wondering what your arm would feel like holding him, wrapped around him in ecstasy. How would they look, tied above your head? “You know much about writing there…ah…?” You were looking at him expectantly, waiting for something. Maybe his name? “Adrian?” “Adrian,” you repeat it back warmly. He repressed a shudder. Your lips formed around his name so nicely. How would it sound whispered lovingly, screaming in pleasurable agony – “You know much about writing, Adrian?” He shrugged, shifting the weight of the basket of dirty dishes he was carrying slightly. “Not much officially. I mean, I watch movies, everyone watches movies. Played a lot of D&D back in the day, but it wasn’t exactly a writing career.” You smile fondly. Adrian wants to see that smile forever. “I used to play a lot too. Haven’t had the time much these days. Campaigns used to really get the creative juices flowing…but now…” you gesture to your screen. “The one minute I get to write anything for myself, and I’m stuck with three shitty lines. It’s just not coming, y’know?” All I know is I’d like to see you cumming, preferably on my cock. Adrian didn’t notice that he hadn’t responded until you gave a small, shy laugh, and shook your head. “Sorry, I shouldn’t keep you from your job. You’re not paid to hear my writer’s block.” “I don’t mind,” Adrian supplied quickly, eyes wide. You wanted to stop talking to him. “I just, ah, don’t really have good advice. Maybe, watch some stupid movies? It’ll give your head a break and give you an excuse to write stupid shit. Not that I think your shit is stupid! I’m sure it’s very smart shit. But sometimes what stops us from taking a shit is the fear that our shit will be stupid. So just shitting at all is half the battle!” He ended cheerfully. You were looking at him curiously, and for a moment he wondered if he had royally fucked up. But then a wide smile split across your face, and a giggle escaped you. “Adrian, was it? I think you’ve just inspired something, Adrian. Thank you.” Your hands posed over your keyboard then, and Adrian nodded, grinning. He spun around and resisted the urge to skip away. He inspired you. The sexy, nerdy girl in the restaurant was inspired by him. He hummed an aimless tune for the rest of his shift. You really were perfect.

This really started innocent, but you were just so perfect he couldn’t let you slip away. You had stuck around for the duration of his shift. By the time the restaurant closed, he was able to clock out. It wasn’t like he had planned to follow you home, Adrian rationalized as he crept behind you, a block or so between you, just out of sight. He didn’t plan it at all. But you two left at the same time, and you were walking alone at night! As Vigilante, he had to protect you. It was his job! That night, he found your house. It was completely innocent as he burned the address into his mind. Completely innocent as he noticed that you evidently lived alone. Completely innocent when he noticed that you kept a spare key inside a potted plant hanging outside the door. He would’ve left it at that, he really would have. Turned around and left your perfect self to the realm of his fantasies.

But on his return home, curiosity had him exploring the perimeter of your home. You had a backyard, he noticed. A small enclosure, contained within a fence (a fence easily scaled by him, but of course not by others). He peeked around, noticing the beginnings of a small garden (were you new to town?) and an old tree standing tall and proud. The backyard looked in on a couple of glass doors, leading into what he guessed was the kitchen. You even had a small hot tub, and Adrian grinned. He was impressed at what you could afford. You were smart. You could look after yourself. Of course you could, you were perfect.

When Adrian eventually left, he swore that he wouldn’t go back. The resolve lasted for roughly 3 days. 3 days of his mind being consumed by this beautiful stranger. Fantasies of tying you down and tormenting you as Vigilante. Fantasies of you taking care of him as Adrian. He wanted to know everything about you. So really, what was the harm in going back? He wouldn’t hurt you, he rationalized. He only wanted to watch, to learn. He climbed carefully, he had to. You couldn’t know he was there. But when he reached high enough, he could’ve fallen right out.

The tree overlooked your room. Your curtains were open – hell, they had every reason to be. No one should be in the tree enclosed within your garden, and that was really the only way anyone could ever see in. The opened curtains and soft reading lamp, however, gave Adrian clear view into your bedroom. Absentmindedly, Adrian vowed that he would kill anyone else who dared to climb this tree with his bare hands. There was plenty for him to notice about your personal space. Books scattered about, a dresser half-open and overflowing with clothes, some tapestries on the walls. But his eyes were fixed on key details, pivotal details, important details. There was a large bed in the centre of your room. Queen sized, maybe King. He could only imagine how nice it would be to fuck you on it, to hold you afterwards, to wake up in it. But there, on the plush, dark sheets, was you. Stripped down to nothing but a black lace bra and panty set. Adrian could have died then, happily. You were sipping on a glass of wine, scrolling absentmindedly through your phone. Adrian’s mind couldn’t help but wander as he noticed the red stain of wine on your lips. How would that red look elsewhere? Wine dripping between your cleavage, staining as it goes. A red that looked so much like blood. He could see himself approaching you after a tough mission, covered in blood of those he had killed. You wouldn’t flinch away, you’d just approach him, hold him, tear the mask off his face and kiss him. You’d pull away, that blood red coating parts of you now. Unfazed, you’d pull him to your bed. He breathed sharply as the brief scene ended in his mind. He shifted his weight, only to realize the growing discomfort between his legs.

Fuck, he was already hard.

He was going to leave, he really was. The image of you lying there was already more than enough fuel for the fire. He was ready to leave, to jerk one out when he got home, to use the thoughts to keep him going for another week or so, before another visit to your home.

But then…

Then…

A droplet of wine escaped from the glass, landing on your upper left breast, before trailing down between your cleavage. Adrian froze. He couldn’t hear you, but he could see the annoyed sigh in your movements as you set the glass and your phone aside. Carelessly, mindlessly, you dip your finger between your boobs and trace the line of red, scooping the stray wine up and sucking it off your finger. All Adrian can do is look in awe as you wrap your wine-stained lips around that finger, lingering there for a little too long. His hand finds its way to the front of his pants, attempting to relieve some pressure as he observes. You’re so sexy. You’re perfect. You’re made for him, it’s like you could read his mind – You seem to sigh again, only this time, you reach your hand behind you and unclasp your bra, removing and tossing the garment to the side of the room. The last small, rational part of Adrian’s brain wonders if you had gotten wine on the fabric. But the rest of him is screaming that this is a show made just for him.

And you’re so perfect, so wonderful, because you prove him right.

Your hands come up, first to touch where the wine had touched you, but soon choosing to wander, gently cupping each breast, squeezing, and kneading. You lean back on the bed, thighs clenched as you work, and Adrian notices how they tighten and how your hips start to twitch upward slightly as you begin toying with your nipples. “Oh, fuck,” Adrian groans quietly, immediately going to lower his pants, hand wrapping around his throbbing cock. Your mouth seems to part in a moan, and the man curses that he can’t hear the sound. He freezes briefly when your eyes wander right past the tree where he’s hiding, over to just beside the window. You seem to be staring, and by the way your legs spread, and your hand moves to rub over the lace, you seem to be getting more worked up. Adrian wonders what’s there. There’s no light to indicate a TV or porn. Maybe a poster? Or maybe it was a mirror. That had to be it, he decided, as you shifted in what seemed to be a method of posing yourself. You had to be watching yourself. He could’ve laughed. You were perfect. You liked being watched. He wondered if you’d like to know you were putting on such a good show for him. You shifted once again, now moving too slowly, teasingly pull the black lace down your legs. Rolling over, you reached for the drawer beside your bed. Adrian pulled his eyes away from the glimpse of your wet folds to focus on what you were pulling out. There, from your drawer, was a large purple vibrator. His hand worked faster as his imagination conjured up ideas of what else could be hidden in that drawer. Vibrators, dildos. Maybe you had handcuffs, a blindfold. A whip? A knife?

Fuck, how perfect could you be?

He watched intently as you moved the toy slowly, not to your cunt, but to your mouth. He could’ve drooled as your perfect lips spread, purple silicone sliding between them as you began to suck, coating the toy with spit. Adrian’s hand slowed, and he whimpered, matching your pace as you slowly fucked your own mouth with the toy. Soon, you moved it again, and he could see the tell-tale light of the toy indicating that it was on. You trailed it down your body slowly, but picking up speed, clearly growing tired of your own teasing. Adrian wouldn’t let you get away with it that easily, he thought. He’d make you work for it, make you cry for it. He wasn’t too disappointed that you picked up the speed though – after all, this is what he wanted to see. When the vibrator finally reached your clit, your head tilted back, and he could see your eyes roll closed. Your hips jerked in uneven patterns against the toy, hand moving in tandem as you attempted to find the rhythm that would get you there. Hand pumping faster, Adrian leaned forward as far as he could. Your hand blocked most of your pussy, but he could still see your breasts bounce, your gaping mouth, your clear ecstasy. He wanted to be the one that caused that face, those sounds he imagined. Watching intently, he saw your free hand move up your body. He thought nothing of it, waiting for it to curve around your tit, the ones he so badly wanted to touch.

Instead, your hand curled around your own throat, and visibly tightened.

Adrian groaned sharply, a series of “fucks” escaping him as he spilled ropes of cum into his own hands. His eyes screwed shut, forever burning the memory of you choking yourself into his mind.

Even he will admit that after that night, it was no longer innocent. Every night that he could spare, he was at your window. Watching you exist, watching you dance around your kitchen, watching you touch yourself at night. He began to learn your schedule. What times you’d leave for groceries when you’d disappear for a walk to clear your head. When you were in a real rut after a rough day, maybe after a meeting gone wrong or a bad case of writer’s block, you’d disappear for nearly two hours, walking aimlessly through Evergreen’s streets. Adrian would follow you those days. Protecting you. Other days, however, he wouldn’t follow. He’d watch keenly as you’d lock the door behind you, cloth grocery bags under your arm, and wait for you to be out of sight of your home.

The first day he took the spare key from the plant pot and unlocked your door, his hands were shaking. But he had to know more. And so, he entered, exploring your home with wide, eager eyes. It didn’t take him long to make his way to your room. First, he laid down on your bed, inhaling deeply at the scent of you that was embedded within the sheets. Then, he glanced around the room, taking in the large mirror that sat beside the window he so frequently watched you from. So, you were watching yourself, he noted with a grin. Knowing he didn’t likely have much time, he stood up, fixing the bed quickly, before preparing to leave your home. That was, until he noticed a stray pair of panties lying on the top of a pile of likely dirty clothes.

He wasn’t going to take them.

See the full post

1,545 notes - Posted February 23, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Masked: Adrian Chase/Vigilante x Fem!Reader SMUT

This funky little murderer really got my heart. This one’s really self-indulgent, but I can’t believe that Adrian isn’t soft as hell and Vigilante is a kinky shit.

Enjoy 4.6k words of some uneditted soft followed by pure filth, ya sinners.

Synopsis: After dating Adrian Chase for some time, you eventually find out that your sweet, mildly eccentric boyfriend is a masked vigilante with a hard-on for killing criminals. And you don’t have a problem with it - well, you do have one. You like it. You like it a little too much.

Warnings: NSFW, Consensual Non-Consent. Weapons Kink. Fucking in a Forest. The Mask Stays On. Criminal/Anti-Hero Roleplay. Dirty Talk. Established Relationship.

You hadn’t been seeing Adrian Chase for years and years, but you felt you had a solid understanding of who your boyfriend was as a person.

Your sweet boy was a little odd, for sure. Eccentric and all over the place, with the energy of a young puppy. His jokes would sometimes not land in certain crowds, but the pure joy he got out of even telling them would always bring a smile to your face. And despite being a bit off, he would always take time to make sure that you were okay, that you were looked after, that you were feeling loved.

He was a warm ray of sunshine, plain and simple.

But there had always been something…off. More off than his occasionally odd mannerisms or poorly timed jokes. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but it felt like there was a layer you weren’t seeing clearly, something hidden behind his warm smiles and bright eyes.

A darkness festering.

You never called him out on it. You figured that in time, it would reveal itself. Adrian was always good at talking with you, so you had no doubt that with a little time, intentionally or not, he might slip up and confess what it was.

It was just another night when the confession came, albeit in a very unplanned way.

You had spent the night at Adrian’s, as you had been doing more and more frequently. A quiet, soft morning of cuddling and kissing your partner had been cut short, however, when a call came in, the sounds of Aqua interrupting your serene moment.

Short words were exchanged, and by the time the phone was hung up a hint of frustration and malice burned behind the emerald eyes you were falling in love with.

You sit up slowly, the blankets shifting down to reveal the shirt you had stolen from him – the heart eyes Adrian gave you when you exited his bathroom in only a black D20 shirt and panties would live in your mind forever – and you reach forward slowly to wrap an arm around him. Your lips pepper kisses onto his bare shoulder, taking a moment to (once again) marvel at how unexpectedly toned he was.

“Everything okay?” you mumble against his skin, looking up at him.

He tilts his head down to face you, malice turning to wonder in his eyes. You really could stare at them forever, behind those dorky frames that were really starting to grow on you.

“Work needs an extra guy,” he answered, placing a chaste kiss on your forehead before standing up.

You groaned, lying back on his pillows, and watching as his muscles flex, pulling on his shirt.

“But it’s our day off!” you whine, curling back up in the bed.

Adrian turns back towards you, curls messy and glasses askew from putting on his shirt. He quickly straightened his frames and walked back over to you leaning down to place a lingering kiss on your lips.

“Stay here as long as you want, I don’t want to ruin your day off. I don’t know when I’ll be back, so don’t wait around, but maybe we can do something tonight?”

You groan again, winding your arm around his neck to pull him down to your lips again. Your hand grasps his hair, not hard enough to pull, but enough that you could feel Adrian’s breathe stutter against you.

“I can’t convince you to say fuck it?” you mumble against his lips.

It was his turn to groan.

“I want to, fuck I really want to.” Emerald eyes meet yours, filled with regret as he pulls away, running a hand through his hair. “I need to go, though.”

“Mmm, fine.  I’m going back to sleep,” you sigh, lying down more comfortably and closing your eyes.

Adrian pauses in the doorway and leans against it, a goofy smile plastered on his face as he watches you.

“What?” you mumble, face half-smushed in the pillow, sensing him looking.

He shrugs, turning to leave. “I like that you’re comfy here. You’re cute, surrounded by my stuff.”

See the full post

1,638 notes - Posted February 11, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #I'm obsessed that Masked is my top post

[the-hidden-pages]

Goncharov Lore Thus Far, based on the top tumblr post results

Main cast are Goncharov himself, his wife Katya (née Michailov), and Andrey 

One side character is named Mario Ambrosini. He is described as a “sad boi” and is involved in gambling. 

Set in Naples and involving a drug ring/mafia. The plot seems to involve Russian organized crime attempting to get a foothold in Italy. 

There is a Boat Scene. Katya survives via resourcefulness. 

Andrey and Goncharov have a substantial amount of homoeroticism. Andrey also has an internet in Katya. This forms a true love triangle. 

At some point, Katya threatens to shoot Goncharov. This is framed as a Girlboss Moment. 

There is also a Beer Bottle Scene. 

Katya fakes her death. 

[the-hidden-pages]

this emerged in my head when I was trying to drive

[the-hidden-pages]

“theyre homophobic but theyre good people!!!” hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. are they really. are they REALLY. are they. are theyr eally. Are the