#though the scarring is HORRIBLE

[2g-1k]

2G1K - Chapter 6 What the Sigma?

I went from wanting to post this in Nov, then early Dec, then Xmas, then New Year, and somehow i managed to fail ALL these deadlines. Crazy what fanart and support does to a person lol. thank you @tthevoic3s we all say in unison

Just to be safe- mentions of blood (it's like 7 drops max), depressing thoughts, dehumanisation maybe? honestly idk

Masterpost

Hey guys, welcome back to another Geoguessr speedrun!

Now here we have…let’s see. Blue sky, looks like something from Earth, cool. Um, tacky fences made of wood, that appears to be doing a good job so far in keeping me in considering I haven’t left the enclosure yet…check. Would need more stuff to accurately pinpoint us right now. Anyway chat, I believe we need more details to know where to put that pin on the map, so we gotta look further!

Evans peeked outside the tacky wooden fences—actually walls— and the crowd went wild!

Hundreds of tiny people were behaving very reasonably when seeing a gigantic human being. The most reasonable of the bunch ran away, not even sparing a second to look back at what they were even running from. Evans personally thought they deserve a ten out of ten for taking the best action for survival, even if it probably would not work. Realistically speaking. Evans could outrun them in two steps.

There were people who just froze. Played dead, even. Possibly a rating of six for this. Works for animals half the time, though Evans kind of isn’t one, and they just successfully made themselves more susceptible to capture. Low survival rate, not the best reaction towards seeing a giant, but whatever.

The remainder of the crowd, though a minority, were probably the weirdest of them all, considering they appeared to be…kneeling down, kowtowing, clasping hands…why? Would their god save them if he even planned to harm them, which he didn’t?

Evans wondered what they were thinking. Maybe back home, if a similar situation occurred, there might be people reacting the same way as them, but he couldn’t know for sure. It wasn’t his fault no giant fell off their plane onto Earth. He’d ask them, but again, the fact that they probably speak some other alien language will probably make asking questions like this impossible.

So the next best thing he could do is to observe one himself. Sure, they may not understand his intentions, though why does it matter what they think if he won’t cause them harm?

Evans stretched his hand out towards the crowd.

Thwack!

Evans was blessed with an arrow to his hand.

Guess what— I’m under surveillance. I did NOT notice the four archers positioned at the corners of my so-called prison walls.

But why did they shoot him?

Evans had a theory unproven. Obviously they don’t want him to cross those walls. The next course of action, is of course, to prove it. Even if it was the only possible explanation. So Evans cleverly stuck his other unharmed hand beyond the walls, and sure enough—

Thwack!

Evans flinched, though the next arrow still managed to lodge itself in his skin. Cool. Now he has one arrow in each hand. Funny, since he felt nothing except perhaps, a minor stinging on where the arrows landed. It wasn’t even bleeding.

So Evans decided it was probably fine to pull it out, and so he did.

He started bleeding. Yay, blood! My favourite food!

So he was right. They didn’t want him to leave.

Honestly they were overestimating themselves. The walls were as high as his knees, Evans could simply jump over them if he really wanted to. God, he could even easily outrun their tiny little legs. The arrows sting at best, and even then they don’t pose a significant danger to him, all things considered.

He only chose to stay inside and listen to them because there weren’t any benefits if he didn’t do that.

Also because this was an interesting discovery.

Also because he wasn’t in much danger…

Also because it didn’t look like they planned to do unspeakable things to him… 

Yes, yes, he knew, stranger danger, but from every situation he’s been in so far, it seemed as if one is much more dangerous than all others. It was also quite clear that everyone involved knew who exactly was the more dangerous stranger at the moment.

Beyond the walls, the noise level slowly went from making Evans think he was at a K-Pop concert, to a noise level more common in libraries. Assuming it was because the commotion had died down, it means the tiny crowd outside had left, or at least most of them should have.

Evans stared at the two blood covered arrows in his palm. Everyone is scared of me, isn’t it? He knew as much. Leaving would be a good idea, if they wouldn’t mind the anxiety of not knowing where something as dangerous as him is at all times. So he couldn’t leave, thanks to whoever invented the saying “keep your friends close and your enemies closer”.

…Oh right, it was Sun Tzu. Fuck you, Sun Tzu.

Staying here and making them equally anxious it is, then. Evans really hoped it was the right choice.

Mostly because he was very much starving right now.

He might as well try to give a decent impression of himself while he was “in captivity” right now, in fact. Who knows, they might slip poison in his food or drink. They already did it once, and they can do it again. Actually, now that he thought about it, how much of a dosage did they need to send him to dreamland, and never wake up even once, to move him here?

Thinking about things without an answer sucked, and Evans thought this question sucked, so he mentally waved it away.

He looked at the arrows again.

He looked at the archers, who aimed at him, and nocked their arrows.

Not that the arrows or any weapon of theirs were especially threatening to Evans, of course, though who would ask for unnecessary wounds anyway? He already had enough from that fucking plane. His fingers carelessly swiped at the still-open cut on his right cheek. The searing pain told him “nuh uh”, which was a good sign to not touch it again for the time being.

Evans’ current plan for peace was kind of easy in theory. Give them back the arrows, they think he is a good person, or giant, or some secret third other thing, and everyone lives happily ever after.

So why did the idea of actually executing the plan make his hands go cold?

A drop of sweat from his hands fell onto the ground. His face went cold too. His breathing became fast, shallower. His heart was fully preparing to stop. He was just being stupid. Seriously, why would anyone be nervous at a time like this?

Nope. Nope. NOPE. I can NOT do this.

It was not that exchanging information was impossible for them. It was impossible for him to communicate normally.

He threw away the arrows, far away from him, the enclosure, from his line of sight.

Evans gloomily slumped against the walls that, surprisingly, stayed in place.

Now what?

Great question. Too bad he himself couldn’t answer it either.

At the moment, he felt like a cup of water that had been freshly microwaved. The water, hot but deceivingly tranquil, would explode once interacted with. The last 24 hours had given him too much to distract himself from his current predicament. No matter what, he had to face reality.

Pry away the initial amazement of discovering a brand new world, where he is strong, undefeatable, unstoppable, and all that’s left is the bleak reality of him, so large and so alone in this undersized place. What was the point of it all when there was, as far as he knew, no way to go home? He couldn’t even muster the courage to communicate, to ask where he was!

He was human. Humans feel hunger, sadness, pain, homesickness.

He felt all of it.

Would his days be spent living in an oversized pen, for the tiny people to ogle him like some— like some exotic animal? For them to tell stories of him devouring children at night, to scare them into behaving? Are his choices just that now? Between exotic and fearsome?

Do the archers see him that way, too? Just an animal to be disciplined and tamed?

Was he human in their eyes?

Another drop of liquid fell onto the ground, but only Evans knew whether it was sweat, or tears.

…

Evans had to cut his emo session short when he suddenly saw the part of the walls opening up. It was only too bad he couldn’t dwell on his sadness for a little longer. He jolted up, sitting prim and proper, not really sure why he did so when it wasn’t like it would change their impression of him much.

Three carts were pulled by the tiniest horses ever, along with several more soldiers? Guards? He couldn’t know for sure unless he asked. Each cart was piled high with equally miniature food, ranging from meats to fruits to other random stuff he couldn’t identify due to its size or simply because he had never seen it before.

A fourth cart pulled up later, carrying more of what Evans supposed was alcohol. That one he will not touch, guessing that it might put him to sleep again. He had enough sleep for now. He needed to be awake if he wanted to know more, to leave, or learn something useful eventually. Can’t learn shit if he is fucking sleeping anyway.

The guards saluted, possibly to Evans himself, which somewhat confused him, then did the fastest march out of sight after the carts were delivered it was almost funny. He didn’t even have the chance to study them before they Spanish and vanished on him. Oh well, less people to mess up in front of. Time to eat. Being hungry, he devoured the food in less than five minutes. He had no opinion on the food. They simply tasted like food.

It was maybe another infinite moment of boredom and halfway throughout his emo time when the doors opened again, startling Evans for just a fraction of a second.

Another tiny person walked in alone, humming to himself, carrying a smaller cart of even tinier bottles.

His eyes accidentally met Evans’.

The loudest scream Evans could never expect from a person with lungs as small as that loudspeaker of a person pierced the air, sending birds flying and people covering their ears for fear of going deaf.

[monotone-artist]

[id in alt]

montegracyn! she loves her son very much, though a lifetime of trauma and self-hatred makes her doubt herself constantly (also she abandoned him when he was still an egg but. well. she's trying now! smiles)

[allergic-to-four-leaf-clovers]

BED!!!!!!!!!! OMG!!!!!!!!!!!

[13curses]

𐔌 cockwarming toji after a horror movie scares you ! mdni

𝔀arning. fem!reader, age gap, comfort n sillies except for p in v <3 wc. 1,625 ⟢

you promised your new boyfriend toji you'd be just fine if you guys were to watch a horror movie. a borderline dumb, pig's blood type of slasher would've been just fine, except a psychological found footage horror has piqued your interest. toji claims if you were a cat, curiousity would kill you.

and it does bite you in the ass at three o’clock when you find yourself shifting, having to pee enough for it to wake you up. except . . your silly mind decides to flash images from the movie, hell, your dazed state convinces you that if you're to grab your phone and unlock it, your lockscreen will be from the movie.

your heart quickly begins to palpate and you dare not open your eyes, instead you curl up like the aforementioned kitten toji compared you to. speaking of toji, you've stopped cuddling a couple of hours ago, and as far as you know from the pitch black scenario, you're facing away from one another.

it's fine, it's cool, it's a hot night in the midst of spring and sometimes not glueing to each other is for the best when it comes to comfort. not this time, though.

“toji..?” you mumble.

no response. deep slumber. you hear his soft snorts, you even get petrified when they're delayed after one another.

“toji..” you call out again, voice in a higher pitch, more desperate. you turn to face his back—eyes still shut—and reach out to tap at his chiseled, uncovered back.

you whimper, and like a sleeper agent, toji grunts himself awake, head turning left-n-right, confused.

“mmwhat? what?” he grumbles, chest roaring as he shifts to face you.

he reaches out, and you’re glad he takes the initiative to move closer ‘cause you hold onto his arm for dear life, bringing it to your neck like a scarf. his biceps are adamantine even when he’s not flexing them. his calloused hand, immediately cupping your head, is kind.

“bad dream?” he asks in a suspicious tone with a bit of a told ya so meaning. you hook your hands over his muscles, humming.

“not exactly.” you huff shakily. “i have to pee . .”

toji gnaws at his own saliva, voice hoarse from awakening at dawn. “you panicked ‘cause ya have to pee?”

“no, stupid!” you exclaim, a cartoony wobble in your defensive voice. “i can’t go alone . .”

toji scoffs through his nose, hot breath fanning your face. he attempts taking his arm from you to sit up, but the inevitable force of you not letting go causes him to readjust his movement: he wraps both arms around you, unfolding your curled up state, and easily brings you upwards.

“let’s get you potty-trained, then.”

“you’re horrible.” you mumble, yet as soon as you’re scooped from the messy sheets, you vine your limbs around your boyfriend and bore your nose into his shoulder.

“sure . . shit, your heart’s ‘boutta pop out, sweet thing.”

throughout your trip to the bathroom, toji tells you he wasn’t affected by the horrors at all; he kept in mind that it was all acted out, scripted fiction. in fact, there were probably many bloopers and costume-design mishaps when it came to the part that frightened you the most.

waiting for you to finish, he leans against the counter, scratching his ribs, licking the scar across his lips. you apologise for lying about being fine with the genre and he says he doubts it counts as a lie as he pats your head, placing a lazy kiss in your hair.

when you’re carried back to bed, you intertwine to cuddle.

“you gonna be fine, doll?”

“yeah. you’re . . okay with snuggling, right? i know it’s a bit hot for it.”

“heh. you were not this concerned about clinging ‘ta me when we were just fooling around.”

you sigh, defeated, ear pressed against toji’s chest, listening to his much calmer pulse—trying to synchronise your own heartbeat with it.

“hey, now. you’re scared. i get it. if anyone or anything did come out of the screen to haunt you-”

you nestle impossibly closer at just the idea of that.

“. . which is not happening.” he articulates distinctly. “regardless, i would beat the fuck out of them, even in my sleep.”

you hum in understanding, feeling much more content with his raspy voice talking you out of it. “please stay close all night.”

toji nuzzles your side, trimmed nails soothing your skin. it’s silent for a second.

“wanna make sure i do?”

you look up at him, lashes fluttering in question.

“how? do we wear handcuffs, or?”

toji snorts, humoured, and you smile at the reaction you gain. “no. you’d rip me off the bed with the way you can toss around, sweets. i’m thinkin’ about being inside you.”

oh.

“you mean cockwarming?”

“if it needs a name, sure.”

you give it some thought, seconds pass by, and soon toji’s limbs feel heavier around you, meaning he will fall asleep in a blink if you don’t respond now.

“yes. okay.”

“attagirl.”

the sound of sheets ruffling fills the room as toji leisurely gets rid of his sweatpants and you roll down your panties. “lemme prep you, okay?”

you nod definitively—his massive hands meet your thighs that fit his grip like perfect handles. you hook a leg over his waist so he has more access. he continues palming one thigh of yours, other hand hovering over your chest to meet your nipple under his your tee.

you wince at his touch, buckling your crotch onto his abs. a kiss is placed on your forehead, then between your brows, nose, and you lift your chin when you comprehend that he wants to make out. tasting one another’s sugary lips softly, you claw at his chest dully, heaving delicately.

“can i help you, too?”

toji bites your plush lip slowly before answering, “your reactions are enough to get me going, baby. but if you wanna touch, ‘m all yours, yeah?”

“yeah.” you agree instantly. he finds your eagerness adorable.

as you wander down his torso, fingertips appreciating the way he’s carved, his touch between your lega travels to your core, too. he’s truthful—your little whines and so were enough to get him semi-hard. his large cock curves into your small hold impressively. it makes your breath hitch.

“it doesn’t bite.” he teases.

“it can be mean, though.”

true, his stupidly colossal dick has proved itself to be a menace to your cervix a number of times, but right now, its intentions are not entirely carnal. your comfort device will be oh-so-filling and lovely.

you form a fist around his girth. he lets go of your thigh and brings his index fingers to your mouth, “lick them for me.”

you oblige, pink tongue glossing his digits, even attaching your lips onto them. your teeth graze him as he removes his fingers, you’d keep on sucking if you didn’t know the purpose of getting them wet.

toji brings his hand down to seperate your semi-slick folds, tips lightly pressing against your pearly nub, welcoming it in a circular motion. you pant out in pleasure, fist tightening around his cock as you stimulate him so you have him inside you as soon as possible.

his thumb is pushed against your crotch as he cups your cunt, murmuring in satisfaction at your warmth. “you feel relaxed, little one?”

“yes.”

he moans harshly at the way your thumb crease brushes his mushroom tip. you grind onto him again, and shortly after, your flowing arousal makes a squelching noise below toji’s rubs. it’s all so sensual, you almost wish you didn’t have to end the foreplay.

however, when toji reaches down to take his cock from your clutch, positioning himself between your shorter self, the mere surface of his crown lets you know just how good, how fulfilled you’re about to be.

once in position, he grabs your hips—both of your eyes fixated on the contact happening—to help himself sink, sink, sink into your irreplaceable, gooey hole. he grits his teeth behind ajar lips, and as collected as he is, you’re not with your perfect little 0 shaped mouth.

“biiig stretch, fuck-that’s it.”

(you can tell he’s having a hard time refraining from thrusting into you beyond that.)

“oh…” you exhale, feeling compensated. there’s an itch that penetration scratches, especially when it comes to your boyfriend and his glove-fitting size. not having him move or explore your sweet spot is a bit weird for now, though, and your petal-like walls promptly clamp down on him, your body adjusting to the state of being still.

he hisses, “don’t jinx it.”

your eyes open wide and you beg his pardon, “jinx it?! i can’t loosen it. how about you go more limp?”

he looks you dead in the eye, trying hard to keep focused. he looks so serious to the naked eye, it makes you want to laugh, but that would have you squeezing him tighter, so you bring your hand to your mouth to bite your knuckles, pausing your breath.

toji rolls on his back, flipping you onto his chest as you remain smiling. your pooling wetness guarantees him a ludicrous feeling of warmth, and in return, his rock hardness fills you up deliciously.

you lay your head sideways on his chest, fingers sweetly scraping his side as you’re getting used to the sensation.

“you’re so fuckin’ cute.”

you scoff, relaxing as he gifts you by running his fingers through your hair, caressing your scalp. “you’re so handsome, toji.”

he leans down to kiss you, once long, then just a peck for a good night’s sake.

“good night, pretty baby.”

“good night, toji.”

. . .

“shit. we didn’t check under the bed for monsters.” he taunts.

you squeeze.

[webism]

★★★ Thinking about the morning after a one night stand with Toji. Waking up to the soft sounds of him getting dressed and psyching himself up to sneak out. He keeps glancing back at you, though, wanting to rejoin you in bed and take you over and over and over again. He hasn't had sex that good in months. Maybe a year.

You're still sore, your legs ache from being hiked up over his shoulders for so long, pressed against your chest as he fucked you in the most nasty mating press you've ever been folded into. Your lips hurt, from the way he's catch them between his teeth and bite down. Hard. Your head hurts, from the dizzying orgasms you had, from the way you screamed his name until the sun started peaking over the horizon line.

And still, you want more.

"It's rude to leave someone sore and sad after fucking them like that," you make it known you're awake, sitting up in bed and letting the sheets slide off your body.

Toji is met with the sight of your chest, marked up with bites and hickies and what might somehow be the indentations of his nails. Still, he scoffs and starts to look for his pants just to realise they're hanging from your ceiling fan. "I'm not a cuddler," he grabs his bottoms and starts to pull them on.

"I don't want cuddles." It's a lie, you think. Cuddles with him would be nice: he's so big and warm and you fit perfectly in his hands. You wonder what his heart sounds like when he's still and calm. You wonder if he ever is still and calm. "What? You all fucked out?"

His cock twitches at the implication. You note the look on his face, the beginnings of hunger.

"Look," Toji starts, licking his lips. You're reminded of the mess you made all over his lips just hours before, how good he said you tasted. He's about to make an excuse, say he's got work or something, but Toji is nothing if not an opportunist. "Ah, fuck it."

And he's climbing back into the warmth of your bed and pressing his lips to yours in something heated and oddly... affectionate. You could close your eyes and pretend it's a good morning kiss, but you don't mind the way his cock is already hardening and pressing against your side, or the way he drags you out of bed and grumbles about how he needs a shower and if you want him to stay and give you good dick until you're full up and senseless, you'll let him make himself at home.

And you're still sore, but at least the scalding water does something to soothe the ache in your legs as Toji picks you up and drills his cock into you against the glass shower door. How good he looks with water running over his tight muscles; losing course over each scar of his and being jostled from his body with each mean snap of his hips into yours.

And he's an asshole, but not wholly horrible, so when you cum so hard on his cock that your whole body shakes, he's quick to clean you off, wrap you in a towel and take you back to bed.

Where he makes you cum one last time on his tongue before leaving <3 dw, he'll be in touch.

[bunnis-monsters]

NSFW

a/n: a 2k word kofi reward featuring megalodon shark!hybrid smut.

You hadn’t been planning on going on a cruise, but when you won a ticket through a raffle, you didn’t want to give up your chance for some real rest and relaxation.

Work had been beyond stressful lately, and you were ready to sit by the pool and sip cocktails until you were plastered.

Unfortunately, things don’t always seem to go the way you envision them to.

The first two days were amazing, filled with great food and some fun under the sun. You felt rejuvenated, and for a while you really thought that you’d be able to go back to work as a whole new person.

But on the third night you were walking back from the bar and decided to lean over the railing, the salty wind blowing through your hair. It was nice, you were happy.

That was until you saw it.

Something shifted under the dark, choppy waves, the hint of something dark and gray beginning to emerge. At first you just assumed it was just your imagination. After all, you have been told that people start to hallucinate when they stare into the dark for too long.

But when the thing rose higher, causing the ship to rock slightly… that’s when you realized whatever it was, it was completely real.

Everything happened so fast. A voice came onto the intercom, saying something you couldn’t comprehend. You were too focused on the giant creature appearing before you, dark eyes landing on your form.

It was looking at you.

Terror shook your very being, causing you to nearly vomit in fear. Your hands gripped the railing tightly, your eyes wide and tears forming in the corners.

It was too dark to make out its form exactly, but you could see the glint of large, sharp teeth and that was enough to have your soul attempting to leave your body.

With a loud creak, it leaned against the ship, sending you flying off the side and into the dark depths below.

You woke up feeling rather… warm. Sunlight beamed down onto your skin, something cold lapping at your feet waking you.

Certainly that had been a bad dream and you were at home with your pet licking your feet to get you up and ready to make their breakfast…

But when you opened your eyes, you were reminded of reality.

The dark figure from the night before was hovering over you, the waves it created from rising out of the water lapping at your feet. The night before you hadn’t been able to make out its appearance, but now everything was horribly clear.

Before you was some sort of human and shark hybrid. Its eyes were beady, staring down at you like a predator glares at its prey. Scars covered its soft looking torso and muscular arms, his lower body resembling a shark’s tail.

But the feature that scared you the most, the one that had you crying in fear the night before was his set of razor sharp teeth, nearly the size of your arm.

You flinched when he lowered his head to sniff you, unable to even move. Was this it? You were going to be eaten by some strange, undiscovered beast before you had ever gotten the chance to truly live your life the way you wanted…

Years of working for a company you hated flashed through your mind, tears forming in your eyes. Only this time it was tears of fear, but of frustration. All that time wasted on making money to get by, but never truly making enough to live.

Preparing for the worst, you squeezed your eyes shut and turned your head. Your only hope was that it would be kind enough to kill you before tearing into your flesh…

Though, after waiting several moments, the only thing you felt was the creature’s soft breaths fanning over your body as it continued to sniff you. Its arms laid on either side of you… and it made some strange growling sound.

Soon, you opened your eyes when a wet sensation on your lower belly caused you to yelp. Oh god, it was eating you!

“N-no, don’t-“

But your cries of fear changed into a moan when he began licking further down.

No, he didn’t want to eat you… he wanted to eat you out.

His massive tongue made easy work of your clit, the very top of it pushing into your cunt and making you cum quickly.

After a while of this, he stared down at you, tilting his head before sinking back into the water. You were left feeling… confused.

While he was gone, you explored your surroundings. You were stuck on a small island, with only a few fruit trees and some birds as company.

You knew that some fruit wouldn’t keep you fed for long, but at least the shade provided some reprieve from the burning sun. If it hadn’t been for that, you would have shriveled up in the heat like a raisin.

The creature/shark guy returned as the moon began to rise over the sky. In his jaws he carried a wooden chest. He dropped it at your feet, nudging it closer to you through the sand.

“What’s this?” you asked, kneeling down to open it up. The chest held various meats and fish, enough to feed you for a while. “Oh… thank you.”

Your gratitude made him perk up, his tail wagging furiously and flinging sand everywhere. He lowered his head, nudging you gently before settling down in the water to watch you cook. It seemed he took great pride in the fact he provided a good meal for you.

As you ate your cooked meat, he slowly reached out his webbed hand, lightly rubbing at your chubby belly. You were too cute, all soft and fat, he wanted to keep you that way. It would ensure you’d produce healthy shark pups, and the very thought of your belly swollen and round during your pregnancy had his hard cock slipping out of his slit.

It was pure instinct. You were plump and well fed, meaning breeding you was the best course of action. He hadn’t found a female megalodon hybrid all mating season, and part of him wondered if he was the last of his kind.

“Soft…”

You were surprised when he spoke, his voice gravely and deep. It could almost shake the ground, and as he pulled you onto his own soft belly, you realized he was… aroused.

His cock was as thick as your arm, and nearly double the size. It would fit with some work… but just barely.

You didn’t know this though, your eyes wide with shock as he pushed the head against your cunt. “H-hey, that’s way too big! It’s not gonna-“

He paused, his black eyes glimmered. “Forgot. Need to get wet.”

He spread your legs apart, keeping them open as his thumb nudged at your clit. His hands were so big, his pinky was enough to stretch you out.

As he pumped his pinky in and out of you, slick started to pool between your legs. It felt so embarrassingly good, you struggled to keep yourself from cumming immediately.

When he considered you stretched out enough, he positioned the head of his cock at your entrance, nudging the hole before pushing in.

Nothing, not anything could have prepared you for the painful stretch as he bottomed out inside of you. Your legs were pushed as far as they could go, and you cried out in pain.

“G-gonna break me,” you babbled, watching your tummy bulge. “It’s t-too big..!”

But he seemed to lost in his own pleasure to hear you, fucking into your tight hole as you whined and squirmed. After a moment though, the pain shifted into a blinding pleasure.

Being stretched out so perfectly felt too good. He groaned into your ear, bouncing you up and down on his cock, using you like a fleshlight.

When his cum spurted into you, the thick, white ropes felt so warm it almost burned. You were filled up completely, gushing his cum even as he pulled out.

He was obsessed with how soft and squishy you were, especially after you had been filled with cum. The megalodon hybrid curled up in the shallows with you, letting you rest on his belly as he kissed your chubby cheeks.

Days turned into weeks, and after two months went by, your belly started to swell. Oh how he doted over you once it was clear you were pregnant.

“Eat, eat,” he’d coo, offering you yet another fish. “Baby needs it.”

Your tits swelled with milk after a bit, and he was fascinated by how sensitive they became. When he buried his cock inside of you at night, he’d take one of your nipples into his mouth and suckle a bit, teasing you… but not maliciously. No, he wanted to spoil and pamper his precious mate.

When you grew closer to your due date, your lover became clingy, never leaving your side for long.

You gave birth to a single, adorable shark pup… and he was excited to put another one in you as soon as possible.

About two years passed, and you had grown used to living on that little island. In the morning you collected fruit, watered your various plants that had been collected by the megalodon hybrid, then you would walk to the shoreline and wait.

“Mama!”

One of your little ones toddled out of the waves, his little legs struggling through the sand before he reached you. He hugged your legs, letting out a little purr as you ruffled his hair.

“H-hey, no fair! Mama, me too!”

Your oldest called for you from the water. He had a tail like his father, and couldn’t leave the ocean. “Shh, shh, I’m coming, baby. You know I wouldn’t leave you out.”

You waddled into the waves, being careful due to your pregnancy. Your other son joined you in the water, both cooing over your belly.

“Mama, when will the baby come?”

“Mmm… it’ll be at least a month or so.”

The younger one splashed his brother, causing them to dip under the waves and play. You laughed, spotting a dark shape coming from the deep.

Your lover emerged from the ocean, your two sons giggling and climbing up his back then jumping back into the water. He was a very patient father, letting them use him as a jungle gym as much as they wanted.

“Eat.”

He dropped another catch onto the shore, his eyes soft as he admired the extra weight you had put on over the last few years. His fingers traced your stretch marks, a smile on his lips.

“Again? I’m still full from lunch.”

But he was persistent, nudging you towards your fire pit so you’d cook. “Okay, okay, I’m going.”

Your youngest toddled around the beach, playing with shells and blowing raspberries at his older brother as he sat in your lap by the fire. The two were always bickering, but you made sure to spend equal time with them.

As the sun set, the kiddos drifted off to sleep on a nearby reef as you and your lover kissed. “Mmm… getting big.”

You yawned, cockwarming him as he toyed with your sensitive nipples. He quite enjoyed how much softer you were now, even more so than when he first met you.

It felt nice, having him guide your hips over him, feeling his cock twitch inside of you. Being stuffed full of his cum had become addicting, and you needed to be bred almost every night to be satisfied.

You were sure that you’d continue having his shark pups well into the future. After all, he took very good care of you, always bringing gifts and yummy foods to keep you from losing that softness he loved so much.

In the morning, you’d start the day over. Although sometimes you missed the life you lived before all of this, you were content being bred and kept as his sweet little mate on that peaceful island.

NSFW TAGLIST: @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat @bubblez-blop @sunshineangel-reads @heroneki-neko @soapybabyboop @anonymouskiwi

[choslut]

# PUSSY TALK !! (vi x reader)

$YNOPSIS. you’ve been feelin’ a little insecure about yourself lately. good thing you have a girlfriend who’s head over heels for you, no matter what! // wc. 2.4k

warnings. insecure!reader, talk of body image + weight, face sitting, spanking (ass + clit), praise, dirty talk, stripping, oral sex, size kink (?), teasing, fingering, begging, squirting, overstimulation, mirrors, awkward aftercare, spooning, pet names

NSFW below the cut. minors, stay away. enjoy your read!

Dresses aren’t your favourite piece of clothing. They never have been and they never will be, and even as you stare at yourself in the floor length mirror of your bedroom, you absolutely hate how this dress looks on you.

When you asked for something flared that would hide your curves, you didn’t expect your tailor to make you look like an overstuffed cream puff. The flared sleeves hang off of your arms like misplaced scraps of fabric, and the material pools at your feet, surrounding you in an unceremonious circle. You look frumpy, you feel frumpy, and nothing in the world could have convinced you that this is the dress you were going to wear to the annual Councillor’s Gala.

“What the fuck…” You turn around to inspect the back, and it’s even worse than you thought. It seems as if the tailor has attempted a daring backless design, but to you, it just looks like a gaping hole, the fabric tight and loose in all the wrong places before messily accumulating just above the apple of your ass. It looks horrible, and if you weren’t insecure enough, this dress makes you feel like a laughing stock. 

And that’s when the dreaded words come out of your mouth. “I seriously need to lose weight.”

Someone doesn’t like that, because out of nowhere, you feel a strong pair of arms wrap around your waist and a sharp chin on your shoulder. “And why’s that? I think it looks perfect.” 

Vi loves seeing you in dresses. She thinks they make you look so graceful, no matter what shape you choose. It solidifies the fact that you are her perfect princess, and she will never understand why you hate them when they make you look so pretty. 

She also doesn’t understand this whole weight thing you have going on. If anything, one of the things that first had her on her knees for you was your body, and like now, she always feels a need to be touching it, whether it be stroking your thighs or kissing your collarbone or, like now, wrapping her arms around your perfect waist and pulling you into her chest. 

“‘M not perfect though, Vi,” you grumble, hands running along the sides of your chest and resting over where her hands cradle your tummy. “I look like a creampuff.” 

“Creampuffs are sweet. I like creampuffs,” she says, her eyes making contact with yours in the mirror as she noses your neck. “I like you.”

You roll your eyes and whine. “I know you like me, Vi. But that’s not gonna change the fact that I hate this dress.” 

“Take it off then.” She says it like it’s the simplest thing in the world, like you’re not going to be stuck in it for three whole hours, playing the part of a member of high society whilst trying your hardest to ignore the obvious stares at the atrocity which is your outfit. You want to tell Vi that it seriously isn’t as easy as that, but you’re distracted by her hands slipping into the open back of your dress. 

“I can help you,” she whispers in your ear, and you can feel the cold metal of her nose piercing against your heated skin. “Take it off, I mean. Relax.” 

“Vi…”

“Can we try something?” She begins to kiss your neck slowly, and you whimper when you feel the rough scar on her lip brush against your heated flesh. “I know you’ve been feeling some way about your body lately, and to be honest, I have no idea why because your body is already so fucking perfect…” Her hands slide up the insides of your dress, and you lift your shoulders automatically as she slips those god awful sleeves off of your shoulders. “There’s something I want you to do for me.”

After all this time, she hasn’t broken eye contact once, and you notice her eyes go dark when she shoves the front of your dress down, only to find your perky nipples staring right back at her. “What is it?” 

“Sit on my face,” she states simply, hands coming round to rub at your tits. “I want all of it, baby. Your whole body. I want you to fuckin’ suffocate me.”

You probably will. You stare at your girlfriend in the mirror incredulously, because there’s no way in the universe that you’re going to sit on her face. Not in a million years, and certainly not today. “No.”

“Give me one good reason why not.” She has a point, because it’s getting increasingly hard to refute her when her hands are making their way underneath the front material of your dress, letting it drop to the floor and revealing your regulation panties. “Go on, give me one good reason why you shouldn’t sit on my face.” Before you can open your mouth to protest, Vi smiles and bites your shoulder. “And your weight is not a valid answer.” 

You raise your eyebrows. “Violet.”

“Yes, baby?” She acts like nothing is wrong, like asking you to crush her skull in between your legs a couple hours before the most important event of the year is a completely normal request. And she continues to act this way, even when she slips her hand into your panties, fingers eagerly in search of your clit. “So what I’m hearing is you don’t want to sit on my face, and you don’t want me to make you feel so good that you forget all about this stupid dress and that stupid gala?” 

Your back arches into her chest when she starts rubbing your clit in small circles, lips widening into a smile as she watches you unravel against her. “That’s not what I said.” 

“So why are you acting like you don’t want it?” She’s taunting you now, fingers halting all movement on your clit and sliding down lower, tips starting to tease your quivering hole. “Because I know you want it, baby. She’s telling me you want it.” 

You hate how Vi can read you like a book. You do want this, but you’re worried, and she makes sure to eliminate of all of that worry by slipping her fingers into your cunt, mouth dropping open in wonder when you begin to crumple against her.

“Vi, please.” 

“No.” Stubborn. “You’re not cumming unless you’re where you're supposed to be, princess. My game, my rules, and no amount of that pretty begging is gonna change that.” 

You bite your lip as you feel her palm grind against your clit, fingers speeding up and continually assaulting your sweet spot. It’s so hard not to beg her to let you cum, especially with the way she’s holding eye contact with you so intensely. 

“Say the words, and that orgasm’s yours,” she mumbles, smile ever present as her fingers alternate speeds. “Come on baby, I know you can.”

You can, you will, and you do. Your pleas to cum are replaced with nonsensical begging and whimpering, your hands futilely clawing at her biceps as you try to rip her fingers away from your weeping hole. “I’ll do it, I’ll do it, just let me cum, Vi, please-”

All of a sudden, the pressure building up inside of you dissipates, and you notice Vi licking her fingers clean as she backs towards the bed. “That’s what I like to hear,” she laughs, sitting down on the bed in a way that has you weak in the knees. “Come take a seat, princess.” 

Embarrassingly enough, that’s all it takes to have you stepping out of the pool of fabric on the floor and crawling onto the bed towards her, legs planted on either side of her hips as you bend over and catch her lips in a heated kiss. It’s loud and it’s messy, her hands sliding up your thighs and onto your covered ass as you grind down onto her knee, tongue intertwining with hers in a clash of passion and need. 

“Good fucking girl,” she groans, squeezing the flesh of your ass before slapping it hard, drawing a quiet gasp from your lips. “Come on, baby, c’mere, come sit.” 

Your hands splay the surface of her chest as you push her back onto the bed lightly, chest heaving gently with every heated breath you take. Vi looks up at you like you’re the most beautiful girl in the world, because to her, you are, and she wouldn’t want to be underneath anyone else. 

“There she is,” she whispers as you situate yourself comfortably on her chest. “My pretty girl, huh?” 

“I’m nervous,” you mumble, hips beginning to move slowly as you plant your hands on either side of her head. “I… don’t wanna hurt you.”

“Trust me, you won’t.” She captures your hips in her strong hands and pulls you further up her body, letting you hover just above her collarbone. “I’ve lifted this perfect body with my own two hands before. What makes you think a little face sitting will hurt me?” 

In a way, she’s right. Vi is strong, more so than most people. If it got too much, she would be able to move you effortlessly, and-

You’re pulled out of your train of thought by the feeling of Vi’s nose nestling in between your legs, rubbing up against your pulsing clit under your panties. “Vi…”

“You’re thinkin’ too much, baby,” she groans, voice muffled in between your thighs. “Just do it.” This time, she doesn’t leave you any time to think, because she’s now mouthing at your cunt through your panties, strong arms wrapping around your thighs and pulling you ever closer. You gasp in surprise, one hand coming up to grip onto the headboard as you fight not to lose balance. 

Another thing about Vi: she’s impatient. And when you hesitate to begin moving your hips, she does it for you, fingers pulling the seat of your underwear to one side and arms pushing you down hard. 

“She’s so wet, baby, I don’t know how you can say you don’t want this.” Her tongue darts out to lick your throbbing clit and you whine, hips stuttering as you stare hazily at the mess of pink hair in between your legs. Vi is staring up at you with lust swirling in her eyes, and you can feel her smile on your cunt as her tongue slides downwards to your entrance. “I mean, she is practically begging me to eat her out. Is that what you want?”

Before you can answer her, you’re caught off guard by her hand slapping at your clit playfully, sending pleasured shockwaves throughout your system. “ ‘M not talking to you anymore, silly,” she laughs, thumbs rubbing at the area she just assaulted. “I’m talking to her, since my girl doesn’t seem to know what she wants anymore.”

“Stop it,” you grumble, but Vi pays no notice, resuming her languid licks on your pussy. Your protests are quickly turned into prolonged whines and whimpers of her name, the pressure once taken from you beginning to build in your core with each shallow thrust of her tongue into your hole. 

“Not until she’s satisfied, angel.” And she means it, because the grip she has on your thighs is nothing next to lethal, and you feel yourself begin to shake as the pressure builds more and more. “And she’s getting close, don’t you think?”

She is. Your head begins to swim and you tangle your fingers in Vi’s hair in an attempt to stabilise yourself but it proves futile, mouth dropping open as you beg her to let you finish. “Vi, please, please, I’m sorry, I-”

“Nothin’ to apologise for, angel, you’re doing a great job.” You have no idea how she still manages to speak when she’s being all but crushed in the trap that is your quivering thighs, but her voice drives you ever closer, your hips grinding down onto her happily awaiting tongue as you chase your orgasm desperately. You want it- no, you need it, and when she begins to massage your ass sensually, you think you might just squirt.

“Vi...”

“Yeah, baby? Is she telling you something?” She loves playing this game, delaying your orgasm as long as possible whilst making it impossible to hold yourself back. It feels like her hands are everywhere because suddenly her thumb is massaging your clit, and you’re begging her like there’s no tomorrow.

She seems satisfied by your begging, because she takes one arm off of your thigh to use her fingers to fuck your needy cunt. “Cum for me baby, c,mon. Give it to me.”

And give it to her, do you, and in gracious abundance at that. Your juices drench her face unceremoniously as you twitch above her, spine shaking as you hold on to her hair for dear life. You’re all but riding her tongue, and she’s moaning profusely into your cunt, the vibrations only heightening your sensitivity. And try as you might, you can’t pull her away, her mouth a suction as she pushes you unforgivingly into overstimulation.

When you’re all but ready to surrender your stability to her relentless assault in between your legs, you feel a strong pair of hands lifting you off of her mouth gently, and light kisses being littered all over the expanse of your thighs. Vi’s mouth travels along your skin lazily, her powdery blue eyes looking up at your shaky form with nothing but love etched into her irises. You barely begin to register the sweet praises she gives you, instead basking in the afterglow of your intense climax mixed with the feeling of her hands stroking your back.

Moments later and you’re laying down on the bed next to her, curled in a foetal position as you fight the army of sleep threatening to overthrow you. “Are you tired?”

“Mhm.”

“Why don’t you… skip the gala? Stay here with me, I’ll cook, and…”

You think the difference between the Vi laying next to you now and the Vi who made you climax to the brink of passing out is a cute one. She’s never been too good with aftercare, instead trying to make awkward conversation in an attempt to divert from the fact that she just rocked your world in more ways than one. “We can stay home. I’ll tell the organisers I wasn’t feeling too well.” That, and the fact that god awful dress made you want to bust a nerve.

Vi smiles at you gently, and you wish you could stay like this with her forever. “Sounds good. I’m looking forward to it.”

© this work belongs to choslut. do not copy, translate, repost or feed my work into any regenerative ai system.

main masterlist

[nanamisgirly]

cw geto is maybe bi here idk, chubby nerd!reader with a bit of attitude, tbh there's no cw it's borderline between smut and fluff

part.2 part.3 part.4

˖ 𑣲 comments and reblogs are always appreciated ma girliees :33

womanizer!geto loves fucking women. truly he does! they are all wrapped around his fingers and all he has to do is glancing at them. and this goes for the whole campus!! even boys would fuck him if he'd give them the chance. and maybe, if the mood struck just right at a party or in a messy, drunken threesome/orgies, he does fuck the boys.

but womanizer!geto has also a nerd bestie. the typical nerd girl. she was everything but his type. nothing that looked like his usual hookup girls. she was not fit, but not exactly fat. just chubby. her acne scars from high school still there with still some pimples that comes and go. and of course the infamous nerd glasses that didn't seem to want to stay on her nose.

you were not someone womanizer!geto would ever fuck. that's why you're friends. strictly platonic. he liked how you never batted an eye at his reputation, never judged, never treated him like a conquest. you both grow close through the years together in the same degree, during the late nights session study in the library before exams, for you it was monnnths before exams, you're a little ball of stress.

womanizer!geto doesn't like when guys approached you. not because he cares—why would he? it just...doesn't make sense. you're not the kind of girl men chase. not the kind they brag about. so he makes sure to lecture you about it—especially about frat boys. "they’re the worst," he mutters, arm slung lazily over your chair as his knee bumped against yours under the table. "trust me, nerd. they only act nice 'cause they wanna see how you moan." you rolled your eyes, setting your pen down with an amused scoff. "do you think i've never fucked, suguru?" you shrugged, smirking at his clueless expression "just 'cause i'm shy and a 'nerd' doesn't mean I don't enjoy a good fuck." well, you were lying but he doesn't need to know that. you were probably having sex every couples of months and it wasn't even that good. your voice was light when you added, "thanks for the concern, though." something in his chest stutters. and for some reason, he has to look away.

womanizer!geto has no shame. he lets girls climb into his lap, lets their hands wander, lets them grind against him right on the couch with people around. almost fucking them on the spot. but never when you're around! why? well, he tells himself it's respect. at least, that's the excuse he clings to. because why else would he pull away from a pretty thing palming his cock just to go talk to you? right? he's just...pitying you. that's all. and yet—when he finally starts to feel his cock hardening in his pants, he tells himself it has nothing to do with your wide, innocent eyes blinking up at him. nothing to do with the way your lips part, soft and expectant. his dick is...delayed. yeah. just slow to catch up to the last girl's game. horrible by the way.

and of course womanizer!geto is trying to subtly adjust his pants. he's forcing his mind elsewhere—anywhere else—because if he lets himself think too hard about how fucking pretty you look right now, he's going to have a problem. a big one.

womanizer!geto keeps a polaroid of you in his wallet. only because you are his bestie! don't get any ideas on that. he found the picture cute that's it. the two of you, standing under a canopy of cherry blossom, petals floating around you like something out of a dream. his strong arm wrapped tightly around your plush waist, your round soft tits pressing against his chest. it had been an innocent day. really. he had dragged you out after hours of studying, calling you a nerd and insisting you needed air before your brain cells ended up smeared on the library table. what was supposed to be a thirty minutes walk turned into four hours. and when you reaching this pretty alley he couldn't help but suggest a pic—just for the memory! and obviously his arm was around you only to male sur you both fit in the camera frame. obviously. he was not dying to touch you!

and now here it was. the damn polaroid in gojo's hand. the white-haired menace grinning like he just found the greatest blackmail material of all time. "damn, suguru, you look so whipped." geto's eye twitched.

"look at this! holding our nerd like she's breakable—aww, how so sweet!!" gojo snickered, flipping the photo dramatically. "and—hold on. did she kiss your cheek?" suguru said nothing, jaw locked as his mind instantly flashed back to that moment—how you rose on your tiptoes, one hand pressing slightly on his broad shoulder to steady yourself as you leaned in, brushing a soft kiss to his cheek. he had frozen for a second and he vividly recall your flushed face, wide eyes as you apologized profusely, muttering something about being 'carried away by the moment' and how it was simply a 'friendly' gesture.

his cock begins to stir at the memory of your soft lips against his skin. his heart skipping some beats.

"wait—holy shit." gojo barks out a laugh. "you keep this in your wallet? what, you jerk off to it?" your entire soul leaves your body. geto sees the way your eyes go wide, the way your hands fly to your face in horror.

and that's it. geto slowly stands up, cracking his knuckles and rolls his shoulders. "satoru," he said, voice eerily calm. gojo gulped. he was a dead man walking.

womanizer!geto tells himself he's just messing with you—that the way his fingers linger when he wipes a stray drop of your melting ice cream isn’t because he’s imagining how warm and soft your mouth would feel wrapped around his fingers. he convinces himself that when you lick your spoon, tongue flicking over the tip—his cock is not aching dreaming to be at the metal-stenciled place. and his rock-hard cock has definitely nothing to do with the way your thighs spread soft and full against the couch or the way your tits bouncy sightly every time you shift.

womanizer!geto is totally fine when you stretch on the couch next to him. arms up, back arching, body pushing forward, making your curves more prominent, making that cute little tummy press out—wait what?? geto shook his head trying to get back to his senses. no need to highlight it was impossible with the way his cock twitched in his pants.

womanizer!geto, obviously, does not want something with you..he does not want to bury himself into the plush softness of his nerd best friend, does not want to hear how sweetly you'd whimper his name. she's not his type!!!!

°‧★ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁( 。 •̀ ᴖ •́ 。)

a/n chubby girls are the biggest win 🙂‍↕️☝️

[dredgesnails]

been thinking about double life again lately so here is my ideal lineup if they ever do a second one:

scott & joel

would be horrible (incredible)

pleas eplease please please please i need to see them self destruct

gem & jim(my)

sometimes when the others say one of their names i think they're saying the other and then i have to go back to recontextualise the entire conversation for myself

i just think theyre a sweet duo and would be cute soulmates

jimmy final two (real) (not fake)

skizz & lizz(ie)

i like when their names rhyme

though after that guess the build it's questionable whether skizz knows how to rhyme

before wild life i'd just say some of the silliest on the server maximising their joint silliness, but

lizzie wants him dead now. it would be such a shame if he was the one person she wasn't allowed to

impulse & etho

yeah how do you like that bdoubleo100

this time impulse wins i swear it'll for real be this time

grian & bigb

they'd both be sooooo happy

bigb would treat him right

#grumboOUT #scarianOUT #bigrianIN

tango & bdubs

toxic AF

they lowkey are even now after wild life but i dont think thatll stop them from divorcing on live tv

cleo & pearl

most terrifying duo for everyone but gem

they've resolved their past trauma and now they can live happily with pearl's DOTS (Dog Of The Series)

unless,

mumbo & scar

completing the buttercups soulmate circuit as is Right and Just

unstoppable force (mumbo "kills a lot but only when he can die even more" jumbo) vs immovable object (scar's persistent survivability when in grave danger)

ren & martyn

god. i mean. you know i had to do it to them

this time they can die in each others arms

holding each other until their bodies give out

whispering reassurances until they can't speak any longer

[khirstytp]

Inspired by @hasello

Watching this AU had a huge impact on me. Besides liking the design, it's a picture of Sonic maintaining his pride, even though he tries to act like his normal self, but the impact of a horrible experience and the fact that everyone can see his scars... everyone except him.

Additional drawing :D

[doeeyedmeanie]

Jason Todd who has no idea what he truly looks like , who describes himself so anomalistically that you’d think he was a victim of himself . He goes into way too much horrid detail, almost memorising each feature as though he was telling an old folks tale about some creature that haunts someplace that no one dare go. His eyes avoid mirrors , photographs of him self..his hands ready to punch or break the thing holding the image of his existence - he’s so sure he’s ugly or horribly disfigured , a part of him still focused on running that the sight of himself strikes some deep hatred and fear inside him. He hates it, hates himself more..the way he can’t look in the mirror or anything reflective or even a photo of himself.

You’ve come home before after one of Jason’s many breakdowns..his hands cut and bleeding , the blood dripping onto broken glass from both the bathroom mirror and and the hallway photos ; he’d run into Batman prior and of course..that deep rooted hatred and fear settled and bubbled to the top . His form of letting it escape being your home..the safest place and now..the messiest place. His tears are staining everything , those sad puppy eyes peering into yours as he mumbles apologies only to be shut down by the softness of your hands on his face and your lips on his forehead assuring him he was fine . You don’t let him clean up..you refuse to of course…you let him cuddle into you after you clean everything up ,telling him you’ll get a new mirror maybe one that you can turn away and that the photos can stay in your office away from him and his mind .

Jason hates hating himself , it used be some sort of protective mechanism..the hatred but now..oh now he wished himself as much as you loved him. He’s learning to..of course , he lets your compliments sit in the air , your hands guiding along each scar and your lips forming that sweet smile you get whenever you see your handsome boy. He enjoys it…you loving him , it’s enough to shut his brains hatred off..especially after a late night when he’s cuddled upto your side , his hand under your shirt caressing your chest , his face buried into your neck as you mess with his hair and soothe him…

Drabble? Broken Jason? I don’t know ☹️I missed writing for him but I am thinking of writing a stalker! Jason Todd x reader ?

[nikkento-writes]

Guess

Summary: You’ve got the most horrible roommate imaginable. The worst part of it all: he’s incredibly fucking hot. When you find out he’s stealing your dirty underwear, you decide to get back at him the best way you know how.  

Word Count: ~2.6k

cw: explicit language, explicit sexual content, smut, mutual masturbation, underwear stealing, panty kink

Author's Note: In honor of brat summer approaching, I’ve written a little piece inspired by the song Guess by Charli xcx (ft. Billie Eilish of course). This song has always seemed so Toji-coded to me. I hope you enjoy! Divider credit to @/cafekitsune.

To say that you’re not the biggest fan of your roommate is the understatement of the century. The disdain and contempt you have for Toji Fushiguro isn’t without reason, though. Since you moved in about two months ago, he’s been nothing but the epitome of a bad roommate. He’s messy, never cleans up after himself, eats your food without asking, disrespects your boundaries. Dirty dishes piled up in the sink, used take-out containers on the counter until you can’t take it anymore and have to throw it out yourself. Groceries you’ve allocated for yourself always mysteriously disappear into his protein smoothie or post-workout meal. You’ve lost count of how many times he’s “accidentally” walked in on you naked in the bathroom after a shower. His apology is always a lazy, “Oops, sorry”, his gaze lingering way longer than it should. He was a walking red flag since the beginning. If the rent wasn’t so cheap and the location so close to your work, you’d have been out of there after the first week. 

It also doesn’t help that you’re stupidly attracted to him.   

Call it carnal attraction or whatever, but no matter how fucking irate he makes you, you can’t help fantasizing being trapped beneath his massive pecs, bulging biceps surrounding you, kissing and licking him all over that delicious scar across the right corner of his lips. You know he has a big dick; you haven’t seen it for yourself, but you’ve peeked at the outline of it through those grey sweats he always wears, parading it around for everybody to admire. He’s brought women home before, railing them in his bedroom across the hall, their moans always so excessive and wanton that even the max volume on your noise-cancelling headphones isn’t enough to drown them out. Another goddamn reason he annoys you beyond wit’s end, even if you do imagine yourself being on the receiving end, getting pounded by that huge cock of his. Screaming  “Fuck me Toji!” over and over again into his pillow until it’s wet with your spit. 

Ugh, what a fucking prick. 

It finally crosses the line though. You start noticing it two weeks ago when you were folding laundry. A few pairs of missing underwear. At the time, you chalked it up to the washing machine eating them to never be found again. It happens, nothing too concerning to worry about. But when you clock that it’s always a certain pair, something skimpy, something silky, something tiny, like the thongs you typically wear on a date, then you start to suspect something more nefarious. In this case, someone.

You decide to test it out by laying out a trap, a small piece of cheese to lure the rat. In this case, it’s panties, the lacey black pair with the little bows. You suspect the worst, that your disgraceful and frustratingly hot roommate is totally sneaking into your room to steal your worn garments. Part of you still gives him the benefit of the doubt, a very tiny, miniscule part of you. But of course, it’s just as bad as you think. Because when you come home, it’s completely gone from the top of your hamper. Despite the evidence being clear as day, you can’t fully believe it. This sick fuck is actually taking your dirty underwear! 

When he leaves for the gym, your body reacts before your brain can tell you to stop. If this motherfucker is sneaking into your room to take your things, then you have every right to sneak into his room to take it right back. You march straight for his bedroom and search the first place you think he’d be hiding this filthy secret of his: the bedside drawer. And lo and behold, it’s there in all its perverted glory. Five pairs all bunched up next to a half-empty bottle of lube and an obscene sex toy. Real classy. 

In theory, you should be disgusted, absolutely appalled by this abhorrent discovery. And you are, you absolutely are. It’s right there, your dirty underwear further defiled by whatever vile acts he’s committed with it. It’s awful, totally repugnant and revolting and sleazy. Straight up nasty. You imagine him laid out on this bed, your hot pink thongs between his fingers as he strokes his throbbing cock in his fist, precum dribbling out of the tip. Or your silk piece stuffed inside his mouth as he fucks his fleshlight so hard that its fake pussy lips rip at the seams. Perhaps all he does with it is sniff it, inhale your womanhood through his nostrils so deeply that he can almost taste your pussy. And maybe he does just that, running your lacey panties across his tongue, salivating at how delicious you are in his mouth. 

Oh no, oh god no. This is bad, this is so so bad. You’re not disgusted by this at all. In fact, you’re aroused. You’re wet just thinking about him getting off to your panties, his brows furrowed tight, sweat beading off his forehead as he jerks himself into oblivion. And if he’s allowed to have this much fun with it, why can’t you?

By the time he returns from the gym, you’ve already washed the evidence and have it back in your possession. You confront him after his shower, knocking lightly on his door dressed in a nightgown that’s a little too short on you. He opens it, sporting a tight white tee and an even tighter pair of briefs, scrubbing a towel over his damp hair as if he isn’t casually looking like a Calvin Klein model. “What do you want?” His tone is blunt as usual, expression indifferent, though his eyes take a quick scan of you up and down in the attire you’re wearing.

You swallow your nerves, smiling politely at him. “I just wanted to ask you something. Can you come to my room?”

There’s a tinge of confusion when his brow raises ever-so-slightly at you. This never happens; the two of you tend to avoid each other at all costs. He’s never been invited to your room before. Still, he follows you down the hall, not questioning it. You lead him inside, not bothering to shut the door closed. Pointing at the floor, you tell him, “Please sit.”

He glares at you. “Excuse me?” 

“I think you’ll want to be seated for this,” you respond, unbothered. 

“What the fuck are you – ”

“I found my underwear in your room.”

He gawks at you, then quickly gathers himself to deny it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You narrow your eyes. “Really? Seems like you know exactly what I’m talking about. It was all there, right next to your lube and fleshlight.”

This shuts him up. Taking a deep breath, he steps towards you, pointing an accusing finger. “You had no right to sneak into my room.”

You do the same, shortening the distance between you. “You had no right to sneak into my room and steal my dirty underwear, you fucking freak.”

“You have no proof,” he challenges you.

“The proof is right here, asshole.” You point to your bedside drawer, where the evidence lies hidden from view. “I have reason to report you to the police.”

He crosses his arms over his big chest, his nipples peaked through the fabric. “Then fucking do it. See if I care.”

The tension is so heavy between you, it’s taking everything to resist yourself from pouncing on him. You give him a smirk, feeling confidence you’ve never felt before. “Not yet. Doesn’t seem fair that you got to have all this fun in my expense. I want to play a little game with you first.”

He snarls at you. “What the fuck are you on about?”

You sit down at the edge of your bed, the hem of your nightgown riding up your thighs as you cross one leg over the other. “Out of all the ones you’ve taken from me, I want you to guess which pair of underwear I’m wearing right now.” You fold your hands over your lap. “And no cheating.”

At first, he’s perplexed by this proposition, unsure if this is real or if it’s just some trap he’s destined to fall for again. Then, he gulps loudly, asking, “What happens if I guess right?”

You grin at him. “I’ll let you fuck me.”

He licks his lip, erection growing in his briefs. “And if I’m wrong?”

“You’ll have to watch me play with myself. And get these panties dirty all over again.”

He can’t help himself from swearing under his breath. “Sounds like a win-win situation.”

You chuckle. “Trust me, I think you’re a loser either way.”  Scooting farther back onto the bed, making sure to pull down the hem of your gown to hide yourself, you ask, “So…what’s your guess?”

You’re fully aware of how ridiculous this “game” is. Toji is completely right; it’s a win-win situation. If he’s right, he’ll fuck your brains out. If he’s wrong, you get to torment him by spreading your legs while he watches, wishing he could fuck you. And to be quite honest, you’re hoping he’s wrong. To see him on his knees, groveling, begging for a touch, a taste. It’s a sight you want to engrave in your memory. You realize in this moment that you’re just as much of a freak as he is, finding pleasure out of this fucked up situation.

Toji studies you carefully, trying to see if he can get a glimpse of an outline, shape, or color. He’s not ashamed to admit he’s familiar with the panties he stole from you. You haven’t accused him yet of specifics, but he can guarantee that whatever your suspicions are, they’re absolutely right. He’s sullied them in all the ways he can think of. But this is something he never dreamed could actually come true. First and foremost, you absolutely despise him, for good reason. Even he can admit to himself that he’s a terrible roommate. He knew he’d eventually get caught, he wasn’t exactly being discrete about it. It was always there, your bedroom door wide open, waiting to be snatched up. In his fucked-up mind, he saw it as an invitation. You were too dumb to notice it before, but he always figured you’d catch on. His secret would be exposed, get the cops called on him, maybe get a smack in the face or restraining order, no big deal. But this right here is an outcome straight from his wet dreams. You in front of him, on the verge of spreading yourself open upon finding out the truth, wantingto be fucked. Being a complete degenerate has finally paid off for Toji. 

After what seems like hours of him contemplating, you clear your throat to regain his attention. “Final answer?”

He’s got a one and five shot of getting it. There’s no way he can tell what you’re actually wearing, no matter how hard he tries to manifest x-ray vision. So, he makes an educated guess based on his own personal favorite of the bunch. It’s a tough choice to make, considering he likes them all. The silk ones were the first he stole from you. It feels so good on his cock, smooth and luscious on his skin. The cheeky pair is fun because he imagines you parading around in it, your ass bubbly and bouncy as he pictures himself admiring each cheek with a hard slap. Despite all the options, there’s still one that reigns supreme in his head. “The pink thongs,” he finally answers. 

The pervert likes the ones with the least fabric, big shocker. You mimic a wrong buzzer sound, shaking your head at him. “Nope, you lose.” Lifting the hem of your dress up, you reveal the lacey black underwear, the one you caught him with. “Guess you’ll just have to watch.”

He sucks air through his teeth, breathing out, “Fuck.” His hand hovers over his briefs, palming his boner. “You’re a fucking slut, aren’t you?”

You slip your hand beneath the fabric, middle finger circling your already aching clit. “Takes one to know one.”

It surprises you when he actually does get down on his knees, getting as close to you as possible without making contact, rubbing himself faster. “You gonna make a mess for me?”

“Only if you do it first.” You gaze at his hand, obscuring the cock you’ve been dying to see for yourself. “Show me how big you are.”

“Fuck,” he swears again, shrugging his briefs down his thighs. His cock is sprung against his abdomen, bigger than you imagined. The tip leaks with precum, veins prominent on the shaft, his balls hung heavy. Your brain turns to mush as touch yourself, thinking about how good he’d feel completely unsheathed inside you. 

“Am I big enough for you?” he grunts, stroking himself with a tight fist, his forearm flexed.

You nod, spreading yourself wider, your wetness starting to seep through the lace. “Even bigger.”

“You think about this cock?” He massages his balls in his other hand, saliva practically drooling out the corners of his lips. “Fuck yourself to it?”

“All the time,” you tell him, dipping your finger in your wet cunt, smearing arousal on your clit. 

He laughs, his voice getting huskier the closer he gets to his limit. “I bet you do. Smelled it all over your panties. Tasted it.”

Asshole. An absolute deviant. Depraved and disgusting human being. It’s all so fucking filthy and you like it. You’re getting off to it. It drives you crazy when he admits it, the mere thought of your dirty underwear in his mouth. His debaucherous nature has clearly rubbed off on you, and at this point, you’re too far gone to ever go back to normal. Hell, the two of you aren’t even touching each other and this is still some of the hottest sex you’ve ever had. Some of your guilt for being equally as weird as him is absolved by the fact that you’re not crossing that line of actually fucking one another. Not yet at least. For now, you can live with that. 

You jerk against your hand, needing to feel more. Toji groans, “Are you close?” 

Unable to verbalize your response, you nod, bucking your hips faster. 

“Show me,” he demands. “Show me how wet that pussy is.”

You hook your finger on the crotch of the panty, revealing yourself to him, cunt shiny and glistening. All of it for Toji. 

This does it. He curses, lifting his shirt up, wrist working overtime as he orgasms on himself, cum shooting out onto his chiseled six-pack. It’s enough to push you over the edge; you rub yourself through it until your panties are soaked.

He relaxes, pulling his briefs back on slowly, using the hem of his shirt to wipe himself off. You watch him as he stands up, staring at you still on display for him. You smile, removing your hand from the mess you made, fiddling with the waistband. “Want a consolation prize?”

He scoffs, trying to contain his excitement at this unexpected offer. “Are you serious?”

You shrug as you slide the panties off, tossing it over to him to catch. “Yeah. It’s pretty hot knowing you get off to this kind of shit.”

Toji plays it cool, walking away with them in his hands and leaving with a quiet, “Goodnight.” An hour later, he’s sucking on the fabric saturated with his saliva and your cum as he fucks his fleshlight, desperately wishing it was you.

[devil-in-hiding]

On The Run

Pt 3

At some point, Soap and Gaz fall asleep on the couch, sprawled across one another. Ghost is laid back in one of the recliners, struggling to keep his eyes open as Price’s voice lulls him to sleep from the kitchen.

You're not sure how long the two of you have sat here. It took Price an hour to finally open his mouth. He has hardly met your eye since he’s started talking, hands clasped together on top of the table.

The ache you felt in your chest for these men worsened the longer Price spoke. Proud military men, tired of seeing the monsters they hunted get slaps on the wrist for atrocious crimes. Making plea deals with lawyers, getting one way tickets into luxury cells when they should be six feet underground.

You don’t realise Price has stopped talking till Soap snores, causing Dixon to shuffle at your feet, all four dogs scattered around the kitchen floor. You look him over, taking in the man now that all his bravado has been drained, leaving only the raw human underneath. Blue eyes darkened by years on the force and then years behind bars, forced into proximity with the very animals he and his team longed to put down. You’re looking at a man who fought for what was right and when justice wasn’t served in a way he deemed fit, he settled it.

Price is staring down at his hands, and you’re worried he’s going to hurt himself with how vigorously he rubs his hands together. You don’t think, reaching across the table and grasping one of his hands in yours, running your thumb across scarred knuckles. “Don’t do that.” You scold, and his head whips up to stare at you, eyes wide, hopeful but hesitant.

He looks down at your hand holding his, then back at you. “You’re not…?” He trails off, clearing his throat as he sits up straighter, letting your palm slip into his. You’re not sure what word he was going to use, but you shake your head.

“I’m… I’m sorry you all had to…” You don’t finish your sentence, letting it hang in the air between you. You’re shocked to see tears pool at the corner of his eyes but he’s quick to blink them away.

“You’re not horrified by us?” He asks, and you can tell he’s trying to fight his voice from shaking. You clear your throat, but gently squeeze his hand when his grip loosens.

“You have done… horrible things. Inhumane things.” You start, trying to pick your words carefully as you scoot your chair closer to his. He watches you warily, but there is no denying the growing hope in those eyes. “But I couldn’t imagine seeing what you saw everyday. Hearing the things you’ve heard, having to keep that all to yourself. Seeing… monsters you’ve spent years tracking get served the minimum sentence with a cozy cell waiting for them.” His hand starts to shake, and your heart breaks seeing how hard he’s fighting back the tears pooling in his eyes. “We never would have actually hurt you, I swear on my life. We just… Fuck we had been running for fucking hours through those god damn trees and-“ His voice cracks, and you gently run your thumb over the back of his hand. “Why are you being so nice?” He almost spits the word, but his grip on your hand tightens.

Grounding.

“You did as I asked. You told me the truth.” You mirror his words from the barn, and he barks out a wet sounding laugh before covering his face with his free hand. “And you’re happy with that truth?”

“I’m happy you decided you could trust me enough with it.” You admit softly, and he stares into your eyes, and you don’t feel the need to look away this time. “Anyone else would have gone running for the hills.” He whispers, and you can’t help but smile.

“Not many places to run to, and if I’m telling the honest truth, there are worse things than killing human filth.” You shrug, and he lets out a bewildered laugh. “You can’t mean-“

“I do though. There are people in this world that don’t deserve the freedom they have, that have ripped apart the lives of others and continue living like they didn’t single-handedly ruin someone’s entire foundation.” Your words are a little more forceful than you intended, raw. And Price catches it, sitting up a little straighter, tugging your hand closer.

“You have your own monster, don’t you pretty?” He asks seriously, and you swallow, lowering your gaze to your clasped hands.

“I think that’s a story for another night.” You whisper, and you see him nod, before realization hits, and his eyes widen.

“You’re going to let us-“

“You are going to have to show me that I am not making a mistake by letting four wanted men stay in my house.” You interrupt him, but there’s a smile on your face. The next seconds are a blur and you suddenly find this giant of a man at your feet, kneeling in front of you and holding both your hands in his. His shoulders are shaking, head bent but you hear the hitch in his breath.

“Price..” You murmur, a little nervous but you slip your hands free, slowly running your fingers through his hair, and you hear the sob that leaves him. He bunches up the loose fabric of your sweats in his fist, and you can feel his tears starting to soak through.

“You are a good person.” He chokes out, looking up at you and the look on his face has tears of your own threatening to spill. He looks exhausted, like every ounce of his energy has finally been drained, years of enduring visceral human indecency ingrained into every part of his being. And yet he is gazing at you like you are the first glimpse of the sun after week long rainstorms, constant flooding and devastation, the light breaking through the clouds to spread warmth on a new day.

“You’re still a good person too.”

Those words linger in the air.

You lose track of time as you sit there, running your fingers through his hair, this man who you’ve never met, who invited himself into your home, but has bared the darkest corners of his soul to you all in one night. Grimes had made his way over at some point, staring at Price with a concerned tilt of his head. He never did like when you cried, and you can tell he’s desperate to try and comfort this strange man in his home. He lays besides him, paws outstretched, inching forward ever so slowly.

“He doesn’t like that you’re upset.” You mumble, watching the way his eyes snap over to Grimes. “Even though I terribly upset his mama earlier?” He mutters, he and Grimes staring at one another.

“Grimes has always been a big softy. Dixon is the one who’s gonna hold a grudge.” An answering ‘boof’ comes from beside you, Dixon plopping his head back on his paws after making his stance known.

Grimes scoots forward until he can rest his big head on Price’s lap, nuzzling down and looking up at him expectantly, and Price gives you a hesitant look. You just nod, smiling gently. “You’re gonna be staying with four of them, better get yourselves acquainted.”

“What in the bloody fuck did I miss?” A drowsy voice mutters from the doorway, and Ghost stands there, taking in the sight of Price kneeling before you, still clutching your sweatpants, and you can see the downturn of his lips through his mask when he notices the dried tears on Price’s cheek.

You gently pull Price’s hands off your sweats, and he looks as though you just took away his favorite treat. “I’ll go grab some fresh blankets.” You hum, face warming when you can feel both of their gazes on your back as you walk up the stairs.

“Wait, does that mean-“ You hear Ghost start, and you’re shocked to hear it so soft, but their words are lost as you turn down the hallway. You slip into the bedroom at the end of the hall, making quick work of dusting off the dresser and small TV, gently stacking a pile of clean sheets and towels. This room already had two beds, you just hoped they were big enough for these giant oafs.

You just about scream when a pair of hands grip your waist, and you whirl around. “Price you have got to stop grabbing me now- Oh.”

It was Ghost, eyes unreadable as he stares you down, and you clear your throat, loosening your grasp just a bit but still attempting to push him off.

“You scared me, you need to stop-“

“Thank you.” He interrupts, and your eyes widen as he pulls you closer.

“I- Well you’re welcome, I couldn’t just-“

“Yes you could. You could send out right back outside, hell you could get a goddamn brigade of officers here and you would be justified for it.” He shrugs, but you frown, shaking your head.

“No. From… from what Price told me, you all made your own choices to help those the governments deem lesser than them. You helped people who have watched law officials let them down again and again.” You state firmly, wincing slightly as you feel Ghost dig his fingers into your hips. “Easy.” You scold, and he immediately eases up, but doesn’t let go of you, keeping you pressed to him and your heart skips.

“I’ll just finish-“

“Whoever divorces such a sweet little bird must have absolute shit for brains.” Ghost states, quite confidently, and you can’t stop the shocked giggle that slips past. “Absolute fuckin idiot.”

“You can’t win me over with flattery you know.” You huff, but he sees right through you, dark eyes taking in your flustered expression, and you feel heat burn your cheeks as you avoid meeting his eye.

“Mmm, we’ll see about that. Think it’ll get me pretty damn far.” He grins, and you smack his hands before pausing.

“Wait.” You mutter, prying his right hand off of you and lifting it up, inspecting.

Your teeth made a pretty gnarly imprint, already scabbing. “Ah don’t worry about that. I deserved it.”

“C’mon you big idiot, before you let that thing get infected.” You order, pushing him towards the bathroom and he lets out a loud laugh, the sound causing butterflies to seize your stomach.

“Yes ma’am.”

[sukeruton-san]

Sorta Maybe Blind pt 3

First Previous Next

There's a group of people, about seven of them setting up big crates and boxes filled with products of the dangerous variety around the room. Chatting about this and that.

"Can you warn Me the next time you pick me up randomly, I know bad guys just came in but I want a little warning." the blind child grunted at him softly making sure to not make much noise.

"This will be the last of spontaneous trips for you"Bruce answered back in the low quiet voice.this is a tricky situation he founded himself in, the child was entirely unexpected coming through the broken down doors and landing right in front of them. Looking exhausted and famished.

Being a child without a guardian is already dangerous enough in Gotham being blind on top of that is practically a death sentence. Who are the child's parents, why did they leave him alone for so long, and where are they now.

Does he even have parents? Is he a orphan?

" Chong, you have the merchandise ready for receivable" Calin Honching asked one of the goons who we now know is named Chong

" Ye, got them all sir. these suckers are top of the line shit right here." Chong replied

" Excellent! We'll surely make lots of money this load"

Calin Honching is a man of upper class having a business named Honcare, a medical hospital that specializes in trauma care and surgeries. he is also a man he has been pursuing for a while now. Honching has been doing weapons deals across Gotham. Selling them to traffickers and meta-traffickers alike. The weapons mostly consists of guns and torturing devices though some of them are hefty loads of sedatives. He has been doing those deals in exchange for money and promise to get there victims treatment at his facility without being exposed of there wrongdoings. The man was horribly greedy wanting to make sure that you will have patience coming in Even if he's passively caused those patients wounds himself.

Another group of people came in with their own boxes. likely the buyers known as the horrforce they have been taking mostly children in the 13-15 range. the leader is named Kimlig Horrin

"Dr. Honching I hope you have my order ready "

"That I do Mr Horrin"

"Lovely, absolutely lovely bring the goods over."

" Batman " the child softly whispers " i heard something that sounds like scratching next to the voice of Horrin" looking around Horrin he spots the biggest box that they have brought big enough to fit at least one human teenager inside. A soft sound of nails scratching against wood can be heard if you listen for long and focused in that area enough

" How well can you hear it?" He asked

" Pretty well. I have really sharp hearing. if I didn't how else will I know that someone is approaching me.I listen for footsteps or a Heartbeat. And there's definitely one erratic heartbeat and frantic scratching over there" the child tensely states.

He may be a meta if he is able to hear heartbeats like Superman. He would have a suggested Kryptonian but kryptonians tend to be indestructible and clearly something happened to this child for him that become blind if the scarring creeping up his neck says anything.

Carefully he readjust the child and his grip before reaching his hand up to his com " Robin, Oracle, have we have a possible hostage situation along with the weapons deal be sure to be prepared"

" Affirmative "

" You got it B! Also been looking at reports for any missing children of his description and there are none for your information. How many children do you have now? 7? 8?"

"Hhuunn"

" Good chat B "

" Batman has 7-8 kids?" The child confusingly responds.

" You can here me?"

" Yes Mam "

" Weeeelllllll how about that!! should have probably known when you said you can hear heartbeats without any device. My name is Oracle what's yours?"

" Danny " he hums

" Good to meet you"

" Well Dr. Honching a say we have quite the lovely collection here!" Kimlig exaggerated shouts" what's your price"

" I think it's time to intervene Batman" Robin clicks before shutting the comm off and jumping on one of the goons knocking him out on impact.

Batman quietly crouches down in a more concealed area tucking Danny in a corner with his duffle bag that somehow hasn't made a sound during the whole scuffle. " Will you be all right if I leave you here" He concernedly ask

" I will be okay, go do your job"He gives you a reassuring smile and a thumbs up, almost hitting the box next to him.

Batman begins to nod look or thinking better of it "good stay here" turning around he jumps into the fray of the battle.

___________________________________________________

Danny may have reveled too much about his hearing, but it was for a good cause because his obsession was roaring its head about the victim inside that box and he couldn't do anything about it.

Sitting in the corner he watches the bats movements, watching them fighting in a way that almost seems like dancing and they are the only ones who know to moves to it. It's kind of mesmerizing.

Looking at the abandon the box he leaves his duffle bag tucked into the corner and swiftly moves forward towards the box feeling around the sides he looks for something after he used to open it. After a bit of searching he finds a latch and lock. He morals his fingers around something revealing the lockpick he phaced into his finger you long time ago. You may never know when you might need one.

"Try and be still okay I am here to help you okay"He states hearing and feeling movement behind him He grabs onto their arm disarming them before judo flipping them up on the floor. delivering a kick to the face He knocks the enemy out cold.

He resumes his task of unlocking the wooden box. opening the box he finds a frail girl a little younger than him terrified before her face morphed into confusion and disbelief.

" You're blind. . . ."

" Thank you for stating the obvious, now do you want help out of the box or not" He holds out his hand in her direction, she hesitates before taking the hand and he pulls her out and close. then running back to the direction of the corner Batman lead him too.

" We'll stay here until they're done, what's your name?"

" . . .Carrie"

"Nice to meet you Carrie, I'm Danny what's you favorite color?"

He asked question after question making sure she's distracted from the situation at hand. she hesitates a bit before answering the questions, but as the more it goes on the more comfortable she gets. Until eventually Batman and Robin comes over to tell them the threat is resolved.

Danny puts his duffle bag back on when leaving the building they go into Pairs. Batman is checking Carrie over for injuries and Robin turns over to him " The GPD will be here momentarily. I want to congratulate you on the move you pulled back there. It was impressive for someone of inexperience in these types of situations."

" Well if I can do something, then I'm going to do it"

" A good moral code dut also a dangerous one, Daniel"

One Full body flinch and a pained grimace " please don't call me that, is either Danny or if you prefer last names it's " what was his new last name again? oh wait " Nightingale "

". . . Your last name is Nightingale"

"Yup" he agreed with a pop of the p

Batman comes over when done checking her over and making her comfortable why she waits for the medics to arrive. " Your skills in spatial awareness despite being blind is immaculate. Were you taught that move by someone?"

"My mom. . . When I was younger" holding the duffle bag closer he gains a conflicted face before smoothing his features out waving his hand "anyways since I found a weapons deal instead of a place to sleep you happen to have any good recommendations instead? kind of don't want to end up in a completely different situation that I know my luck will end up doing. you're the heroes of the city so you know the best areas, I'll tack any suggestion"

" Are you by yourself in the city?"Robin asked

". . . Yes, yes I am" he revealed

" I have an acquaintance that will be happy to let you stay the night" Batman admitted

Robin snapped his head toward the bat signing aggressively ' are we really doing this right now? do you really need any more children? I do not need another brother, father' Robin huffs

Rubbing the back of his neck"I don't want to bother the guy if he's busy"

" He is not busy at all" sirens could be heard little ways away of abandoned apartment. " I believe that is our cue to go. Danny, will bring you there in the batmobile if you so desire" they make sure Carrie gets to the medical professional there stating that he is all right and to focus on her. he turns over to Batman.

"That . . . Sounds awesome actually, thank you" at his words Batman brings said vehicle to a location beside the building. Taking his hand they lead him over to the car with Robin glaring holes into the back of Batman's head. Batman holds the back side door open for Danny to get inside then close is it. Robin gets into the passenger and Batman gets into the driver

They head off into the unforeseen night

( Sorry, it took so long to write this part but I hope you all enjoy it!!)

( edit went through the people who wanted to be tagged for the next part so @bushbees @not-your-average-url @i-have-three-feelings )

(edit #2 I realized my last paragraph was a seizure and a half so I fixed it)

[piroulinewafers]

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐧!𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐛

🍪 𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐬 !! 🍪

siren!caleb who lurks beneath the surface whenever she comes to the secluded beach, just his eyes peeking out from the dark tide, wide and unblinking, watching like he’s memorizing every breath she takes. siren!caleb who circles her from below like a shark every time she swims out too far, his shadow vast and silent under the waves, tail dragging slow— because even though he knows she’s not food, his body won’t stop reacting like she is. siren!caleb who carves her face into the walls of his underwater cave, over and over and over again— dozens of messy, desperate renditions done in stone and bone, like some shrine to the only thing he’s ever loved. siren!caleb who’s tail along could wrap around her twice and still have room to squeeze— thick and smooth and shimmering with scars from years of dragging himself across sharp reefs in pursuit of prey… but her? he’s gentle with. mostly. siren!caleb who can’t understand why she’d ever leave the shore. why she’d ever go back to her stupid little human town, her stupid little human home, when he’s right here. always watching, always waiting. siren!caleb who leaves strange offerings tangled in seaweed at the edge of the tide— teeth, pearls, his own scales he’s ripped from his tail, strange dead fish— and other things he rips from the ocean’s belly just so she might pick them up and think of him. siren!caleb who has a horrible little habit of nipping at her skin with sharp teeth during affectionate moments— soft at first, but always one second away from sinking too deep. he just wants to know what’d she’d feel like between his jaws.  siren!caleb who can’t be trusted with his mouth near her neck. his kind kill at the throat. and he’s trying, really trying, but he always ends up mouthing there too long, groaning low in his chest as if in pain from holding back. siren!caleb who smells blood in the water like a hound— one scraped knee knee and he’s gone, eyes rolling back slightly, nails digging into her soft skin. he thinks he’ll satiate his desires by dragging his tongue along her wound, lapping at it, but it does nothing to satiate his desires. siren!caleb who collects bones. not hers. never hers. but he thinks about it. thinks about what she’d look like picked clean. what her voice would sound like underwater, gurgled. and then he bites into his arm to make himself stop thinking.  siren!caleb who mimics the way she laughs, the way she hums, the way she blinks. it becomes a ritual, mimicry through obsession, a way to feel closer to her. they’re always a beat too late, too low, too breathless, like he’s trying them on for size.  siren!caleb who doesn’t sleep much. just stares at the moon through the cave mouth with her shirt clutched to his nose, mumbling nonsense as he inhales her scent. siren!caleb who has the most lovely, honeyed voice. his sweet lullabies are a balm to any weary soul, just as his possessive growls when he’s watching her sleep. “mine.” “stay.” “you need me”. “i’ll die if you leave me.” siren!caleb who swims circles around his home restlessly when she don’t come by the secluded beach for days, tail slamming against stone, injuring himself, muttering her name to himself like a curse or a prayer— scratching it into the walls with bloody nails until the water clouds red. siren!caleb who drools without realizing it when she’s close— real, slick hunger pooling on his tongue like brine, eyes dilated and blown-wide with the need to taste, to bite, to drag her down where no one else can touch.  siren!caleb who loves her like a creature that never been loved before— wild, reckless and too much, clinging with sharp nails and teeth and desperate, trembling hands. siren!caleb who dreams about sinking his teeth into the curve of her neck. to mark her, to taste her, to eat her. to make sure no one else gets to. who dreams of her drowning in his arms— but she's smiling. because in the dream, she's not afraid. she never tries to leave.

𝐚/𝐧: im actually so normal about this... i have so many thoughts about siren/sea creature caleb and choso...

[unholyhelbig]

i beg of you to write more mary x f reader I BEEEGGGGGGGGGGG

Title: Who You Belong To [18+]

Ship: Female!Reader x Mary (Sinners 2025)

Read Part One Here | Main Masterlist

Summary: After Mary turns you, the two of you work on your dynamics as she ushers you through your new life without the sun, and with some odd cravings that bring out Mary's darker side.

Warnings: Blood, biting, cannon-typical violence, pet names (Darling, sweet girl, all the fun southern dialects), fingering (R receiving), oral (R receiving), dom/sub tones, use of good girl, blood drinking, implied death, fire, reader is with a man BREIFLY, jealousy, and horrible grammar I don't proofread!

[A/n: Thank you all so, so, so much for the positive response to the first part. Seriously, I've been in a writing slump for awhile, and Sinners has changed that, let me tell you. Let me know if you want to see more!]

The deadbolt on the front door had been flipped with finality. It’s inner-workings clicking and settling into place was what ended up stirring you. The open sign settling against the front pane of glass as it was turned around stole the last promise of sleep away. Normal, simple actions that should have been nothing more than quiet day-to-day actions were grating. Annoying. Deafening.

The first inhale after death is painful. That’s what they don’t tell you. After decades of your lungs wetly manipulating air automatically, once it’s given a brief reprise, they don’t’ want to cooperate. Not gracefully, at least. The cough that tore through you was dizzying. The way you shot up, unsticking yourself from the green felt on the pool table was painful.

When your fingers first found the wound on your neck, two hollow puncture marks caked over with bullet-sized scars, firm and crusted over from time, you thought it was her hand. Mary’s. It was an instance of memory, a word that your brain supplied. Your fingers were too cold. Too dead to be yours. After all, you had only known warmth from yourself.

She turned from her place at the window, curiously lifting a brow at you trying to collect yourself teetering on the edge of the pool table. Your chest heaved and your eyes were feral. Darker than they had been before she’d ripped into you.

The strawberry pulp of your blood had dried against the curve of her chin, the perfect jut of her collar bone where you’d unbuttoned her shirt. The silk was ruined. Soaked through with you. None of that seemed to bother her. When she walked closer to you, she did so with the confidence of approaching a trained dog.

Her presence, you realized, was needed. Calmed you. Eased the tension in your shoulders and slowed your breathing if just by a second. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I just let a beautiful woman rip out my jugular for a quick fuck.”

“There ain’t nothing quick about forever,” Mary purred. The words felt genuine as they slipped past her lips, smooth like velvet. She looked and acted like a predator, but was soft around the edges.

She reached out a hand, and when you took it, you were met with a warm familiarity. Not more electric coolness. You tightened your fingers around her own in an instinct of learned yearning for closeness. For comfort after a traumatic event. Mary helped you steadily off the pool table on unsteady legs, her other hand planted on your hip.

“Got anywhere to wash up in this place, darlin? A change of clothes?” she nudged your nose with her own, trying to draw your focus gently from the conflicting warning signs in your body. “You’re a vision covered in blood. It’s not comfortable though, is it?”

You breathed out, shook your head tentatively. Your neck was stiff and jaw was aching. There was a subtle burn at the back of your throat that reminded you much of longing. A longing so deep and primal that you were sure nothing would ever settle it.

Wordlessly you walked towards the door that rested just beyond the bar. Past a dingy plastic sink and cans of food that were unopened, dishes that needed to be done, was a stairwell up to your apartment.

It wasn’t anything special; a dingy room with a recliner in the corner, crowded yet cozy. Warm with the confines of the only place you’d lived in the past year. There was a bathroom and a dresser that held the few changes of clothes you owned.

You went through the motions as if you were cleaning yourself of silt that lined the swampy earth you’d played in as child. The blood would wash away much easier. You were fortunate enough to have heated water for the bar downstairs, the luxury extending to the tub.

While the steaming water filled the air with a rusted smell, and the floral soap tickled at your nose, you struggled to work at the button on your pants with clumsy fingers. Mary had been lingering in the doorway, but she stepped into your space then, moved your hands away and took over.

“I can feel how quickly your thoughts are moving.”

“Is that part of this? Being in my head.”

“No, no. Not all the time. But they’re loud right now. Hard to block out. You can ask me questions, babydoll. I know you’ve got em’. No reason to hold your tongue.”

A hum dislodged itself from your throat. She’d pulled your pants down and you used her shoulders to steady yourself as you stepped out of them. Mary’s eyes flashed with an admirative hunger at the sight of you. The full sight of you.

You couldn’t help the arousal that shot through you: Mary on her knees, ill-lit eyes peering up at you as if you were the only thing in the world. Her devotion was confusing, all-encapsulating. She was a terrifying enigma who had taken your life and given you a new, strange one, all in one breath.

She stood, dragging her nails up your sides and dipping her chin to maintain eye-contact. Mary peeled her own shirt off, letting the pile into the corner next to yours, much duller than the pop of color that she provided.

It didn’t startle, nor shock you, when she slid into the tub behind you. It wasn’t a big tub, arms wrapped around you and breasts right up against your back. You sighed into her, were oddly comforted by the way this near stranger scrubbed the blood from the slope of your neck.

“Why me?” You rasped.

Mary was silent for a moment. A long moment that was filled by the shift of the water and the way she dragged the pads of her fingers over your knuckles to move the red pigment away. The lavender that swirled around the both of you was nothing but soothing.

“You seemed lost.” She answered, dragging her hands over your arms to curve the cold. “Not in the way of wanderin’ but in the way of not knowing how to start. And I’ve been there. Trapped within the purgatory of wishing there was something more.”

You shifted, turned ever so slightly and looked at her, the tenderness in her eyes. “What changed?”

“A night in a juke joint in the Mississippi Delta, that’s what changed.” She chuckled dryly, as if it was an inside joke. “Things are put into perspective real quick. You learn that all the big things that seem big sometimes aren’t. Sometimes the small things are what counts. And sometimes… it’s okay to be selfish.”

“Selfish, huh?”

“Well, you’re bewitching and I’m weak.” Mary chuckled. You could feel the movement rush through her. “So, what if I’m selfish. I’ll never see the sun again, I’ll take the closest thing that I can get.” Her head dropped to your shoulder, almost out of guilt. “No family. No one to come looking for you.”

“Mm, fuck. I should have trusted Albuquerque.”

“Babygirl, no one should trust Albuquerque. The city or the person.”

You snorted at that, shaking your head. She’d shifted so her chin was resting in the small of your shoulder, tantalizingly close to where she’d bitten you hours before. “Mm, you just wanted a pet.”

“And what’s so wrong with that?” Mary nipped lightly at your shoulder, soothed it quickly with her tongue. “I take good care of my things, darlin”

It had become apparent over the following year that you’d spent with Mary, that she did take very good care of her things. Though, she was possessive of them. Keeping a firm hand against the small of your back at all times. An arm around your shoulders or your midsection to keep you in her lap.

“Oh, now, come on” Stack led the angry red end of the cigarette to his lips, inhaling deeply. “I think that’s just criminal. Damn fuckin’ criminal. They should have you locked up.”

You snorted, digging into your pocket for your own rolled cigarette. Stack matched your move pound for pound, watching as you closed the end of your teeth around the tip. He leaned close to you, enveloping you in the scent of clove and the deep spice of his cologne. He used the lit edge to ignite your own cigarette.

“Stack, you best back away from my girl if you want to keep all ten of your fingers.”

“Come on now, Mary!” He shot back with a strike of quickness and a roll of his eyes regardless. “I didn’t mean a thing by it. You better school her about her taste in music, I’ll tell you that much. Your girl or not, she needs helpin’ along in the blues department.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, but didn’t make good on her threat. She handed off a bottle of liquor to Stack before depositing another paper-wrapped one into your hands. The three of you occupied a picnic table under a streetlamp, far away enough from the public to stay conspicuous.

“You do have horrible taste in music, baby.”

“That’s what I’m saying.” Stack defended.

“Yeah, well. Didn’t have to say it so close to her face, did you?”

Stack growled at her. Nothing threatening or primal, something you’d learned was easy to do if you put enough air behind it. You were used to them bickering like this. Like siblings. Like people who loved one another deeply at one point, and had realized that it wasn’t love necessarily like that. Like beings who owed it to one another to try, and had valiantly.

Right now, you were her passion project and you’d accept her attention for as long as she’d give it. Be it days, weeks, or years. It was diligent, and it filled you with the kind of warmth you were missing your entire life.

You hadn’t truly lived until you died, and Mary was guiding you.

“I knew you were jealous when you took a train from Chicago to chew me out on a platform.”

“Wasn’t jealous then,” Mary snapped back, slipping her hand around your waist. “You fucked me halfway to Tuesday and left by the next. That’s called anger, Stack.”

“Same thing.” He shrugged, waved her off as if you hadn’t heard them have this same argument ten times over.

The spiced tobacco curled around your lungs with a warmth similar to the kind that Mary sparked against your skin. She dragged her nose across your cheek, breathing in, watching you devilishly as you flicked the white ash from the end before closing your lips back around the cigarette. You knew damn well what you were doing, watching her swallow the excess saliva in her mouth.

The smash of hard-rimmed glass drew your attention to the bar that quite resembled the one you’d burnt down months before. It tugged at a dull ache in your chest and culminated behind your jaw, much like the first time you’d dug your teeth into something truly alive, with a pulse. The first time you’d felt that zeal drain away at your volition.

A liquor store with a welcome sign at it’s edge was attached to the actual establishment. Hence why you camped out here. Alcohol still went down smoothly and with a softness unrivaled, but there was always easy prey here. Those who got too inebriated, putty in your hands.

“It’s going to feel strange for a bit, Babygirl.”

 Mary had told you as the two of you sat in the dull darkness of an apartment she commandeered from a foreclosure. It was above a bookstore, one that buzzed pleasantly during the day and cushioned out the rest of the world along with the layers of newspaper and cardboard she’d plastered the windows with to keep sun out.  

Her head was in your lap, body sprawled over the cotton sheets of the bed. Your body ached with a familiar niceness, fingers carding through Mary’s hair, occasionally tracing over her features. So delicate and breath-taking.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t done as she instructed. She didn’t’ need to guide you much, Mary essentially ripped the seal on the person she’d cornered and then the sharp, tantalizing scent of blood made the vicious burn in your throat worsen until you were latched onto whatever skin was exposed to you.

“Do you have a… preference?”

She chuckled and it was warm, peering up at you with eyes that were more blue than black. “No such thing. You’ll find that some circumstances work better than others. When people are alone. When they’re angry. Reckless.”

“Vulnerable.”

“It does make it easier, yes.” She resituated herself until she was sitting across from you, your knees touching and her hair falling elegantly over her shoulders. You almost whined at the loss of contact, but swallowed it down when she grasped your hands in her own. “Killing is not something I enjoy, but it’s necessary.”

“You’re going to make me do it on my own, aren’t you?” You scoffed dejectedly.

“Mm, there’s a learning curve.”

Mary could see the worry behind your eyes. Silenced it by leaning forward and pushing her lips against your own in the most delicate version of a kiss she had to offer. It sent chills down your spine, electrifying your skin where it met her own.

“I’ll be with you every step of the way,” She growled so deeply you could feel it in your own chest as it pressed against yours. “Just let your instincts take over, angel. They’ll do the rest.”

They did so diligently now. You didn’t think twice before digging the pointed edges of your teeth into whatever salted skin you could bring yourself close to. When the hunger burned, it burned deeper than anything you’d ever felt before. Something Mary promised would wear off eventually, and she hadn’t steered you wrong yet.

Often times, your mind would zero in on people like they were playthings first and humans second. The man who had thrown his bottle into the nearest wall and bellowed out drunkenly was an easy catch. Though he was twice your size by the looks of it. Mary gave your arm a squeeze, drawing your attention back to herself and Stack.

“Don’t think that’s your speed yet, darlin”

“Oh, come on, Mary!” Stack took a long pull of his drink, holding the bottle by the neck and letting the foam froth down his bearded chin. “Don’t coddle her. Y/n has been in a fair share of bar fights and that’s before you ripped her throat out on a pool table, which I’m devastated you torched by the way. She can handle herself. Can’t ya?”

“Sure can.”

Stack laughed with his belly and clapped a hand on your shoulder giving you a playful nudge. You couldn’t help but laugh with him, something that had a nervous edge to it, even as you glanced back at the man who was swaying on his feet and grasping at another amber bottle of beer himself. He talked louder than the rest, crueler about his women.

“Oh, I believe you sweetie, I do.” Mary’s accent came out thicker when she in fact, didn’t believe you, and was getting anxious about the turn of events. “Just, with men like that…”

“With men like that, the trick is to flirt.”

Stack wiggled his eyebrows and earned a hearty hit to the shoulder, nearly destabilizing him on the edge of the picnic table. Mary’s fingers had moved from your arm to trail against the base of your spine. The darkness of the night shielding you from thinly veiled judgement.

With a rumbled snarl, her lips pressed against your temple, she conceded. “Fine, fine. Take your shot.”

“Don’t think I can do it?”

Mary clenched and unclenched her jaw, plucking the cigarette from your lips and placing it between her own. The glowing end buzzing angrily in an orange sunset of color. There was a glossy look to her eyes that was unreadable, but she settled herself onto the tabletop next to Stack, gesturing vaguely.

That sparked something determined in your chest as you shoved your own drink into her hands and straightened out your clothes. Mary’s clothes, really. You had packed what you wanted into a burlap duffel bag before tossing the match into the heart of your families bar. You wore duller colors, items that weren’t made of silk but cotton. Things that were worn in well.

They interchanged with Mary’s now. Most of your wardrobe was a rotating door, much too soiled with your hasty meals. You were glad that you chose today to wear one of her finger pieces. A black silk blouse that cut low and exposed skin to your advantage in the southern heat.

You pushed your chest out purposely, watched Mary’s eyes narrow and darken to the point of primal hunger. You turned on your heel and walked towards the group of men that were roughhousing in front of the bar.

Their conversations and bubbling laughter started to drain away as you stalked closer with a confidence unmatched. The largest man, one who looked more attractive up close, with a chiseled jaw and an easy smile on his face, let out a low whistle.

“Hi pretty lady, you alone out here?”

The boys around him hooped and hollered, sizing you up like you were a prize. You’d seen men like this. Known men like this. Even before Mary had sunk her teeth into your throat, you held a certain level of anger towards their indifference as they occupied spots at your bar.

You gave him your sweetest smile “I was just traveling and gosh, the heat in these parts. I thought it cooled off once the sun went down.”

“A northern little thing, aren’t you?” He put his foot up on the seat of the picnic table, leaning forward. “I could offer you a drink, but it won’t do much. There’s a swimming hole right round’ back. Some privacy. That’ll cool you off real quick.”

“Why not both?”

“Woo!” a skinny man with slicked back black hair clapped his calloused hands “I like this woman, Tommy.”

He did too. You could see it in his eyes. You lifted your brow at him in question, an invitation, really. And he fell right into it when he handed you his newly opened beer. It was cold, which was nice as you wrapped your lips around the lip and took deliberately slow swallows.

You let out a slow, tantalizing sigh, leaning over the picnic table that separated you and Tommy. He smelled sickeningly like sweat and cinnamon candy. “That hit the spot.” You lowered your voice to a simmering growl. “Why don’t we go to that lake so you can find mine?”

It was filthy enough to render him speechless, so when you offered your hand, he took it without hesitance. It was damp in your own, almost slimy. But You could hear the way that his heartrate picked up to a deafening pace.

You could feel the hunger building deep within your stomach. That horrid, wanting, primal need that drove you to do exactly what you were doing now. The triumphant and lude murmurs from Tommy’s friends were nothing short of deplorable but they were soon swallowed by the cacophony of sound the forest around you created.

There was a dirt trail that led from the bar to the water. Tommy had pulled you to the edge of the water, snagging you by the waist after he’d peeled his shirt away and tossed it at the base of a tree. His chest was slick with sweat, your hand splaying against the brawn of it.

“I thought we were going to cool off.” You purred.

“Right after things heat up a little.”

Tommy pressed his lips to yours, and you kissed back, tasting the alcohol and the smoke on his breath. He squeezed your hip and tried to drag you closer to him. He was sloppy and unkempt and not nearly as gentle with his movements as Mary. The stubble on his face scratched at your skin, but none of that seemed to matter because soon the only thing you could hear was the rapid beating of his heart. All the blood that pulsed through his body.

Your hand moved to the belt of his pants, fooling with the belt slowly, but not making any real effort to undo it. Instead, your lips found his throat. You nipped at it softly, breaking skin and drawing a hiss from him.

“Ha, you’re a little feisty thing aren’t you.”

You hummed in response, dragging your tongue over the pinprick of blood that started to weep from the small wounds.

“What if you put that mouth to better use?”

Alright. That was quite enough. He was getting too cocky, and while the fun of the chase was half the battle, you could feel the saliva fill your mouth like hot honey. There was a hot pressure in your chest and throat and behind your eyes, surely a milky black by now.

So, you bit down. His grunt was garbled within a second, the tinny, polished taste coating your tongue. You gulped down the heat that filled your mouth, hearing the choked gasps coming from Tommy did nothing to deter you. He started to claw at your back. Opening and closing his mouth with wet noises.

Blood dripped down your chin, slicked across your chest and dampened your fingers as you wretched his chin further to the side to give you better access to your meal. You figured you’d never been this starved before, and never would be again until your next encounter.

Tommy went limp against you, his breath shallow and then nothing. A delicate arm was wrapped around your waist, pulling you from your haze. Forcing you to unlatch your teeth from sticky tendons and salted skin.

“I think you’ve proven your point.” Mary looked down with unfathomable disgust at the dead man.

You pressed your spine against the opposite tree, dragging your arm across your face to smear away some of the pulpy blood before it dried in the nighttime breeze. One of Mary’s sculpted brows lifted as she crossed her arms over her chest, darting her calculated stare between you and what was left of Tommy.

At this point, it was easy to tell when Mary was displeased. She got a crinkle between her brows and a downturn to her lip. And boy was she pissed at you right now. She took a step closer to you, glowered down with darkened eyes illuminated by the moon.

“I don’t like the way he touched you.”

“I was touching him.”

“I don’t like that either.”

Mary clenched her jaw and snarled deep in her throat, bringing her lips so close to yours that you could feel the warmth of her breath but wouldn’t dare surge forward to connect them. Not with the envy pulsing through her like a heartbeat.

“I wish you weren’t so stubborn.” Mary placed her knee between both of yours, ground it into your center until you were to swallow a moan.

You frowned in confusion, tried to lean forward and connect your lips but she moved back, just out of reach.

“I’m not stubborn.”

“Darlin’ you are. You are, and you know how I know that? Because anyone else would have been on their knees begging for my forgiveness, devouring me until the sun rose and threatened to destroy us both. But instead, you’re struggling with the buckle of another mans belt.”

You lilted your head to the side, watched her carefully. She’d guided you through meals before, and it had never been like this. This was the first time you’d exercised your ability to seduce in order to get what you wanted, and it was getting under her skin. It gave you an unexpected thrill. One that pulsed straight to your core.

Her voice was a velvet whisper. “I need you to know who you belong to.”

Oh, you knew. It was hard to deny when she was trailing her hot mouth along your jaw and then your throat. Her teeth sharp, biting and hot as she soothed it with her tongue moments later. You clawed at Mary’s shoulders, trying to pull her closer.

“I know,” You whined out, sounding much too desperate “I know, Mary, promise.”

“I’m not convinced, you were all over him. Your tongue was practically down his throat.”

She was licking away at the blood you had spilled, ripping at the fabric of her own shirt before focusing on the drips that had sloped down your breasts. A gasp escaped you, head thrown back against the tree.

You whimpered, hands coming up to her hair “I was just doing what you taught me.”

“So needy,” She tuts, “I just don’t know if you deserve my mouth when all you seem to do is run yours against a mans.”

Mary’s fingers move past your waistband and dip into you. “A little jealousy and you’re already this soaked for me?”

She pulls away and earns another noise from the back of your throat before presenting her fingers. They’re wet with your arousal and you’re suddenly flushed with embarrassment. Both of her eyebrows lifted and you knew exactly what she wanted.

“I know how loud you like to get. Suck.”

Without a second thought, you opened your mouth and did as you were told, humming around her. You could taste your own slick, the salt on her skin. She relished in the way you gagged when she pushed deeper into your mouth, an attractive glint in her eyes. “That’s a good girl. So obedient. So you can follow social cues?”

Soon she pulled her hand away, dragging it down her front as she dropped to her knees and dragged your pants down to your ankles. You dutifully stepped out of them when she tapped your ankle, knowing the drill.

Mary lifted one of your legs over her shoulder. Her breath was hot against your thigh, so close to where you needed her most but not quite touching. She bit and nipped at the soft skin there sending shivers down your spine.

“Mm, he’d never get to touch you here.” She breathed against you “no one but me ever will.”

“No, no one but you.”

“So fucking pretty like this. At my mercy.” Mary licked a stripe across your pussy, earning a guttural moan from you that moved through the simplicity of the forest. Again, her tongue dipped in and you found purchase and balance by resting your hands on her shoulders, panting hard, growling harder. “All mine.”

She shifted her attention to your clit, sucking it the way she would enjoy a meal, much gentler than you, with more practice. “M-Mary, please. Fuck. Please.”

“What was that, angel? Couldn’t hear you over all that desperate whining.”

At this, you whined harder, hoping it would appeal to her softer side. “Please, Mar, I need to come.”

She hummed against you and the vibration of the noise only brought you closer to the edge. But then she showed mercy on you and slipped the fingers you’d had in your mouth into you. The gasp that you would have produced got lodged in your throat.

“Good God, Darlin, you are close.” She started to pump into you, returning her ministrations to your bud. “Go ahead, come on my fingers.”

You let out a breath of relief in between the small whimpers she was pulling from you. But her movements stopped as quickly as they started, dark rimmed eyes peering up at you. “Ah-ah only if you know exactly who owns this pussy.”

She felt you tighten around her fingers, sneered at the feeling of ecstasy that shot to her own core. It made her throat dry. Seeing you come undone under herself like this. She didn’t know how much longer she could edge you like this without coming apart herself.

“You do,” You moaned “you, you, you. Only you, Mary. Please.”

“Well, when you put it like that.”

She returned to her ministrations and it didn’t take much to send you over the edge entirely. You felt yourself tense around Mary, breath panting and sweat coating your skin. Bliss exploded through you, fingers digging into her shoulders. You ground your teeth together to keep your noises of pleasure at bay, legs shaking, Mary coached you through your orgasm.

The woman that she was, pulled your pants back up and buttoned the fabric easily. She kissed your mouth, panting herself. “I might have a little problem with jealousy.”

“Little?”

“Medium sized.” She steadied you once more “You okay, angel?”

“Never better. You’re sexy when you’re pissed.”

“Yeah, well. Don’t make a habit of bringing it out in me.”

Mary smiled something shy then, reaching and plucking a leaf from your hair before flicking it to the side. Her breath was warm as it mingled with your own. Her scent clean and crisp despite the energy the both of you had just exerted under the pale moon.

You frowned, “You haven’t eaten tonight. Are you hungry?”

“I’ve eaten, Babygirl, don’t you worry.” She giggled, infectious. Beautiful and captivating.

The sun was due to come up in an hour, and Stack had wandered in search of his own meal. You were sticky with blood and the taste of yourself. Mary had a softer smile than before, one of admiration and affection. She took a small step back and held her hand out to you, a delicate gesture.

“Lets get you cleaned up. You’re a mess.”

“That’s not my fault.” You laughed, voice husky.

“Stubborn. Nothing but stubborn. You’re lucky you’re beautiful.”