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#but I KNOW it’s been rendered properly
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Shinra Propaganda poster for the new comic.
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aychama · 2 months
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Butcher Lamb.
Necromantic Axe
Timelapse ;
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codgod-moved · 10 months
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^3^
(there’s a bonus drawing under the cut that i don’t like enough to put in its own post but i still think it’s cute lol)
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fambily :]
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miisart · 1 year
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It’s not your fault, you stupid girl.
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buttertrait · 8 months
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she just likes to hang out in trees sometimes
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barefootcosplayer · 9 months
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I have had the nicest people commenting on all my old bioshock fics recently and it is just so heartwarming and affirming like thank you and ily ily ily, I’m just feeling the love 😭💛🥰
#fun fact I kept trying to add an emoji to this post to properly convey my appreciative emotion#😭😭 <- this guy and a signature yella heart#but it kept rendering half the text of my post invisible and uninteractable#so just know that this app is a well formed product#you never cease dissapointing my tumblr#keep it sleazy#but anyway yes I’m filled with gratitude and whatnot#what’s up with this bioshock interest it’s gonna make me pick up the game again 🙊🙊#fully considered rereading the novel which like as a lover of bill mcdonagh that is nice but man oh man is it a trash bit of writing#one day I will bite John Shirley’s nose off in retribution#but also I was looking at the bioshock two art book (which yes I also own literally who else is it made for if not Me#bioshock 2’s biggest supporter/stan) and manzo did it make me wanna write about the middling days of rapture#the descent into splicerhood is an aspect I find super appealing#and like all of those early signs#bc plasmids didn’t immediately morph people into splicers it had to have been a gradual thing#and the time right after plasmids were put on the market and people#began to use them and began to see the slow mental and physical decline#that has so much writing potential#the slow slide into it#maybe it’s a fic about jasmine or Anna or some of those fort frolic people and we watch our narrator start to lose control over certain#thoughts or actions#or they wake up with a boil#I’m just saying it could be hella interesting and I’m thinking about writing bioshock fanfic again but don’t quote me on that#I’d need to reach out to the old ‘shock crew again#Dana and Molly know I love you always#okay that’s enough sap for one post back to blithely reposting bullshit like once a week#(but seriously talk to me about the initial onset of splicer symptoms#the societal shift at that time is so tense and juicy!#i love you minutia lol)#barefoot raps the news
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bibiana112 · 5 months
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I'm going to draw wktd fanart (to cope with a highly specific situation) while I still have the time for it (looming employment) and that is a promise to myself (I probably have something else I said I'd work on but whatever)
#I strt at the end of the month and I'm#I'm not even gonna say I'm scared I'm not I'm just not quite excited either? I'll pull through#and hopefully eat better and be able to buy fun things thaNK FUCK#however also taxes. I am not looking forward to taxes#like it's literally an ideal position if I don't manage it for whatever reason that'll be uh. something big for me to find out limits wise#but it's whatever I'm curious and I gotta try#and like I said god I'll be so happy to be able to afford hyper specific autism approved food that's gonna make everything so much easier#oh also the hyper specific situation? don't worry about it. just know I'm going to cry into whatever I draw for that game atm#I mentioned it in the post I made about it these days I literally skimmed through lines of one of the endings and immediately cried a single#Annoying tear. I feel like I don't cry about life things as much as would be healthy to and when I do I don't cry right#so I just get so annoyed at these sudden single tear moments when I'm not even putting effort into anything they just leak out#because something on a screen hit too close to home in an instant but I can't even properly Feel it because I'm focused on something else#and the thing in question has well been Acknowledged and rendered Irrelevant#it's not satisfying like crying for being engrossed on a story and/or characters and I absolutely hate how idk picturesque? it feels#people criticize drawing crying with a pretty single tear all the time it feels so fake and forced to fit the medium in a way that's still#appealing and consumable but I'm just a person with depersonalization issues. reverse derealization. everything's real except me#anyways I wasn't spiraling I will continue to not spiral about that at this moment but that's constantly there in my brain#and I'm going to draw the body horror lesbian polycule about it#Void fala aí#oh yeah I promised field sib content uh I can easily do that as a warm-up on a work day obviously pfft#''end of the month'' she's so pretentious you mean next week
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i should draw
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beeapocalypse · 6 months
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worlds freakiest computer girlfriend who tells u to transition over every single problem faced
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westernsunshine · 2 years
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Had a dream last night where I absolutely laid into my former mentor and rightfully told her off and honestly… my subconscious said “girl you deserve closure <3”
#so in the dream my english language gcse (which i took ten years ago) had either expired or been rendered invalid or something#they didn’t have proof i’d ever taken it so i had to retake. and i was like ‘this is absolutely fucking stupid i literally have a master’s#in this. and i’ve been teaching it for 6 months now. but whatever. go off.’ and i went to take the exam#and the invigilator was my ex-mentor (from here onwards referred to as j) but i was like ‘fuck it i’ll just ignore her’#she was ignoring me too. she was talking and laughing with her TA over in the corner (which you are very much not supposed to do but it was#a dream so dream logic reigned) and i was just like ‘whatever’#so i’m doing the exam and i specifically remember it’s like 11:30 when j suddenly looks up and says ‘what time did we start the exam?’#and she’s looking directly at me. but i’m like ‘how the hell should i know? you’re the invigilator’#and she’s like ‘i didn’t write it down! you were supposed to keep track of it!’ and i just stand up and go absolutely ballistic on her#‘YOU DIDN’T WRITE DOWN THE START AND END TIMES FOR THE EXAM?! you realise that means none of us have ANY idea how much time is left#we could end up going massively over or under time and rendering the exam null and void because of YOUR negligence. everyone here will have#to repeat this exam because of YOU. don’t even TRY to put this on me. it’s YOUR fault you were so lazy and incompetent you couldn’t even#WRITE DOWN THE FUCKING EXAM TIMES’#and i just kept laying into her. airing every single one of my grievances. i think at one point it was like ‘you couldn’t be bothered to#mentor me properly but now you expect me to pick up your slack by doing things that were YOUR responsibility?? fuck you. i’m done’#she just stood there completely silent and eventually turned away from me and the TA kicked me out lol.#but yeah. my subconscious said ‘here’s some catharsis’#it’s super funny actually because i saw her earlier this week and she hid behind a door to avoid me. we love to see it#tbh i’m not sure i even want to have that loud confrontation with her. she’s dead to me. but it WAS fun in the dream#personal
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noearchives · 1 month
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sober me up
(what happens when the one piece boys are drunk?)
characters: portgas d. ace, trafalgar d. water law, sanji.
note: personally i've never been drunk enough to the point where i lose my mind or anything like that ... so this is just based off of my imagination and stuff i see in movies ;;
cw/ tags: gender neutral reader, mentions of alcohol, unestablished relationship, mutual pining.
portgas d. ace
"woah,” ace whispers, head tilted to one side as he looks at you through half-lidded eyes, saying your name in the same way he did when he met you for the first time.“is that really you?”
you're not sure if he’s putting up an act to flirt, or if he’s actually so drunk to the point where he can’t tell his imagination from reality. not knowing how to reply, you hand him a glass of water in a fluster in hopes that he’ll sober up, and he downs the entire thing in one go, mistaking it for liquor.
“wow,” ace says again, awestruck. it’s like his eyes are put in a spell to look at nothing else but you. his reaches for your face, stroking your cheekbone with his thumb. nonsense runs off his tongue as he stumbles deep into your gaze in spirals. “you're so pretty i could kiss you.”
he pauses. “can i?”
fuck it, you think. he’s drunk out of his mind, you're tipsy enough to use it as an excuse. it won't hurt if you kissed your best friend who you’ve been pining for since the dawn of time when he won't even remember anything the day after, right?
so you agree to his request, and ace wastes no time with how quickly he slides his tongue into your mouth just after two seconds of his lips meeting yours— it’s like he doesn't want you to breathe.
when he finally lets go of you, you gasp like a fish out of water while he looks at you stupidly. his mind is filled with you, you, you. one kiss isn't enough to satisfy him— he’s been dreaming of this for months, afterall. with both hands on either side of your face, he makes a bold statement once again.
“let’s do that again.”
trafalgar d. water law
law doesn't drink much, but he can't say no to his crew when they offer. initially, he planned to stay sober for the rest of the night to look after all of you, but as shachi and penguin continue to pour him drink after drink, his head grows heavier with every sip of liquor.
he stays quiet even when he’s drunk. no bold confessions, no impulsive acts, nothing. he just watches his crew drink themselves stupid, the faintest hint of a smile at the corner of his lips.
with the loud hustle of the bar and the deafening laughter of your crewmates, it’s hard to notice how intoxicated law has become until you feel a foreign weight on your shoulder. a white fur hat lands on your lap, and you only realise your captain’s resting his head on you with his eyes closed then.
“captain?” you say. your heart’s beating out of your chest. “captain, you're drunk.”
“i know.” he mumbles in reply, looking silly with his cheek squished against your shoulder.
“let me get you some water.” you try to move out of your seat, but your body doesn't budge. law’s arm holds you down firmly, and you feel the skin under his touch tingle. “captain," you say again, weaker this time. you're not sure if your lungs are working properly with how he's rendered you breathless. "you've gotta let me go," you say, betraying your heart.
"no," law mumbles against you. his hold on you tightens, and you swear he's nuzzling into your neck.
at that point, you decide that he's had one too many and that he needs to be sobered up or else he'd be in a sour mood the morning after. you awkwardly prop his arm on your shoulders as you drag him back to the polar tang with the knowing gazes of your crewmates on your backs, your captain's hat in your hand as you strain to support his weight.
"ah, young love." penguin sighs.
sanji
being an absolute lightweight, sanji's already swaying with his tie off and a few buttons undone after two shots.
"oh, my love." he sing-songs. my love? you raise an eyebrow at the nickname. "the way you look at me makes my stomach flip. your eyes are brighter than the stars, and the way you say my name tugs at my heartstrings. would you make a poor man like me happy by just looking his way?" he rambles, freestyling a verbal love letter for you right then and there. you've heard him do the same for robin and nami, but never for you. (until now, of course.)
the crew's swordsman physically cringes in second-hand embarrassment. "curly, do all of us a favor and shut that mouth of yours."
miraculously, sanji doesn't retort like he usually does. instead, he takes your hand in his as he continues his weird love poem. "if only this wasn't a dream, and i had the courage to confess my love for you in the real world. alas!"
... and he starts crying. actual tears rolling down his cheeks and everything. "but i know you would never love a pathetic man like me!" he sobs into your lap, kneeling before you as your ship's navigator averts her gaze out of embarrassment, grumbling about how her efforts of keeping his secret are wasted.
though ridiculously stupid, his confession made your heart stop. after all this time, it turns out that he's equally as smitten as you are when you thought his heart belonged to someone else. (it's hard not to assume with the way he behaves around good-looking women.)
"why did nobody tell me...?" you ask, looking around as the strawhats look away with a supressed grin.
"because he said he'll kick our asses if any of us said anything. geez, both of you are so stupid. can't you see the way he makes those disgusting heart eyes at you every time you pass by?" the swordsman grumbles.
sanji's arms are still tightly wrapped around your waist after he's done with his improv love poem. "you're so warm, even in my dreams..." he mumbles. it seems like he still hasn't realized this isn't a dream.
the two of you are going to have a looooong talk when he sobers up, you're sure.
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tarjapearce · 2 months
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Dr. Michael Stone (Pt. 2)
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Art and Character by: Spiderthingcoo on X
WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, forced voyeurism, body exploration, edging, double v penetration, female anatomy, rough and drugged induced sex, manhandling, substance abuse, 3some-ish, rimming (m receiving) nudity appreciation, breeding kink, a bit of dacryphilia, Objectification, overstimulation, filthyness undercut, no proofread, bit of cum play, bellybulge, electrocution, Michael is a sick fuck and I love him.
Miguelverse
Summary: Michael Stone has the time of his life.
A/N: I got too carried away and the fanart didn't help jskjs, hope you enjoy <3
Time ran at the speed of a snail. Each blink was torture, like you were removing seconds from the clock with each brief pause of your eyes.
How long have you been here? Certainly too fed up with trying in succeeding to escape. There was no punctual way to determine in which part of the day you were as there was no windows, no clocks, or anything of the sort that dictated the unstoppable force that always outlasted everything within reach.
Just dull pale grey walls, borderline white in every direction your sight stretched. Which wasn't much.
Your new habitat, was minimalistic, decored with the basics to sate physiological needs such as sleep, shower or pee. Ceiling too lowered to crawl or stretch your muscles properly when you tried to keep mobility going.
A fancy cage, nothing much, nothing less.
How long had it been since he slammed the door shut? Days? Week?
You didn't know. And the lack of a sense of time was irrevocably screwing with your head in a way it resembled how Michael had fucked your insides. There was no sun to bath in, no wind to blow and mess with your hair as you swung through the buildings, providing the right amount of adrenaline, no structures to crawl or stretch your muscles completely on. No external stimulus.Nothing.
Just a few meters of space that caged you like a live sample for a maniac's twisted experimenting and amusement. Fed and cleaned whenever you required it. It sometimes blurred the line between being a pet and a Guinea pig.
Just your cell, withering away your spirit. Even the food provided, lacked that homey seasoning you adored indulging in HQ's cafeteria after a mission. The only rift of color popping in the tray and around you were the vast array of vitamins and minerals, shaped in round and squared pills, nested within a metallic cup.
Cause according to him, if his offspring was to emerge within you, your body had to be properly nurtured. Ironically, the food was bland and tasteless, but you didn't starve. And it spooked you how easy your body took a liking to it.
Skin healthier, glowing and silky even, a soft natural flush dressed your cheeks, metabolism in its peak, a couple of pounds were lost, but that was the least of your concerns.
He was set into perfecting the vessel for his future seedling. You.
Michael was... You didn't even know where to start besides being the obvious doppelganger of Miguel. The only way you could tell them apart was because of his eyes. They were brown, like the most scrumptious shade of chocolate you've ever seen.
Unlike Miguel, he just took what he wanted and needed, everything in the name of science. He was the embodiment of 'the end justifies the means'.
Alluring, inviting you to a forbidden and fucked up world where he was the unanimous and dangerous sovereign. Like his whole aura. His impassive act was only a coy facade to hide what was underneath.
Madness, lust and something so dern you didn't want to try and decipher cause in truth, you were terrified to fuck around and find out. He had already gave you a little taste of his abyss, but it wasn't enough for him. He wanted you to drown in him and everything that rendered his mere existence.
He needed to crown a queen for his chaos. And what a better way to do it, than choosing you to give him a perfect offspring.
In his own twisted world the need of a superior being was a must. A need he was creating the proper foundation to sate.
He was prepping you to bare his child. And it scared you to no end. Not that you didn't want kids, but to be forced to fit into that role out of sudden scared you shitless.
And you didn't want to sour and make your thoughts awkward by knowing a variant of Miguel would be the father.
Fuck. No.
If your mind could have arms, it surely would've slapped itself for such thought. Not that you didn't think Miguel was handsome, in fact, you avoided being seen as that recruit that had the hots for the boss, lingering too much around him made you more nervous than you liked to admit.
And when you were paired with him, the anxiety of knowing you could mess up went heavenwards. Your Miguel wasn't one to dwell into conversations if they weren't necessary, canon before personal interests came first and always, awkward social skills that came out stilted and forced almost mechanically, specially when someone caught him off guard or in the high level of stress his gorgeous brain fed him on a daily basis.
Grumpy was his default emotional read, snarky or dry humored replies when dumb questions were asked, overworked to the bone. Secretly labeling himself as a bad man cause of the things he needed to do in order to keep the arachno-humanoid poly-multiverse working, a walking failure through and through, weak for meeting his emotional needs and trying to be happy for once and failing at it, and apparently the only one that knew how to keep everything together.
And still, the first one that always replied the call for help by either sending a group, or creating an escape plan route to ensure your and the rest's safety with the help of Lyla.
Unlike him. The man in the flesh and bone, that would easily supplant him physically, and had been watching you ever since you awoke. You didn't have to turn to him to know his presence had invaded your already reduced and secluded space.
Brown coals raked over the slope of your neck, the dip between your shoulder and junction, gaze remained over your rising form in every disguised breath you took, hoping he'd go away. Long and tan fingers tangled softly in the silks of your hair and the touch alone made your skin crawl, and not precisely in a good and pleasant way, no.
Whenever he was around your spider senses tingled, sometimes you'd end up with a headache, unable to shut it off. You didn't have to look deep enough to know he was as messed up and unpredictable as the task he had bestowed upon you.
"Eres tan perfecta..." his impish titter made your heart wrench and anxiety to bubble in the deepest of your gut.
In other circumstances you'd be a flustered mess, flattered even to have such kind of man groveling over you. But this one in specific had you coiling away from his touch, hoping to vanish into thin air or turn invisible like Miles.
God, you really wanted to have Mile's invisibility powers right now, so at least you could have a chance to escape. But dreaming had gone out the window ever since he dumped you here.
He never lingered too much, even when he did routine checkups on you. Blood and other fluid samples were taken, he made sure you ate the bland and soggy looking food 'til nothing but crumbs were left, and then he'd leave to do whatever he did in the lab and wouldn't return until your next feeding time.
The only thing he had in common with your Miguel was the workaholic attitude. He'd spend hours if not days tinkering with canisters and things you low key feared to know their components. You've noticed the little parts of limbs floating in some recipients, none of them human.
What kind of things this Alchemax did? Cause the little you had seen so far wasn't nice nor pretty.
Alchemax took seriously their research, and with this man on charge, you didn't want to even think about what kind of ungodly horrors they harbored. There was a little slapping in the air as he removed his gloves, and it was your chance to crawl away.
Rough pads thrummed over your soft skin, sending shivers down your spine, breath hitched as he beckoned your forearm, the only part of you that budged, towards him in a demanding pull.
"Haven't had the time to properly examine these." he mumbled, more to himself than to you, as his thumbs squeezed soft circles, soothing the previous pressure's discomfort.
You gulped as he narrowed his eyes behind his glasses at the tiny circular slits indented in your wrist, a pale pinkish hue rimmed the tiny hole. The way he admired and looked with child-like wonder at your web shooters was overwhelming.
Cheeks grew warmer as the tip of his nose ran up your forearm to finally stop on the shooters. A soft salty musk emanated from them.
"Organic webbing... Fascinating." He crooned.
He closed his eyes to relish in the smell of your skin. A shaky breath came off your lips as his moist tongue rubbed a kitten lick on it, a bolt of electricity flooded your senses and earned him a whimper. Eyes immediately shifted on you, pupils widening.
Much to your dismay both had accidentally unveiled a borderline gruesome breakthrough. The twinkle in his eyes made your brows twitch in worry. Your neck gulped and his eyes caught the fraction of movement to then smirk.
Pearly whites shone with twisted pride upon the discovery.
"W-Wait-"
The tip of his tongue pressed harder on the slit and you couldn't help but moan. A lovely and surprising melody to his keen ears at your reactions.
Web shooters were a sensitive and therefore an erogenous area.
You tried yanking your arm away, but your knees trembled when he delivered a wriggle of the tip of his tongue, trying to worm into your veins, prodding and tasting unabashedly at your dint.
With every coil of his moist muscle your brain sparked alive, neurotransmitters soaring in wicked delight. Your teeth clamped on your lower lip, stifling another upcoming moan.
The wet sounds and pops of his mouth made your insides clench involuntarily. Legs smothered together, as he now sucked. His lips pursed in that familiar shape it reminded you the way he ate your engorged and sensitive nub.
Head split in two, fighting over what side of reasoning you'd agree with. One side was ashamed such ministrations from your wretched captor turned your unwilling body like puty within seconds in his dexterous hands, and with this newfound information, his power over you just increased tenfold.
Or aghast for allowing such thing, for allowing him to cage you against the bed and his formidable frame while he devoured and toyed with your wrists, and for him to make you feel revered like no man ever had, even if it was for the wrongest of reasons. Brown eyes stared at your countenance with such curiosity and enthrall, as if you were everything he needed. Like his prayers had been answered and delivered in silver platter with you on it, right in his hands.
It didn't help your shaky resolution he squeezed and draped his other thumb in your other slit. Rubbing in lazy circles, pressing the right amount to have your clit throbbing and your mouth panting. The vibrations of his low groan on your skin sent your brain in tiny shortcuts, your synapses were howling.
A shiny streak of his saliva connected with the left wrist. The irisdiscent shine of your webs connected to his bottom lip.
"Tad salty" His tongue licked the web away, His thumb moved in a back and fro motion, alternating between circles and soft licks from his thumb pad.
"Hnng-" Your toes curled in, as your hips stuttered but he grounded his even more on yours, preventing you from shifting too much.
"Stop squirming" He huffed, annoyed, trying to focus his sight on the tiny crevice.
"F-Fucking stop then" you panted in angry breaths
Michael smirked, genuinely amused at your unexpected reaction.
"Why would I? This is the most exciting part of the research."
Shit.
He took your other wrist and kissed the dent, your eyes went shut as he pressed both wrist above your head. Thumbs kneading with a bit more of pressure right above your tiny holes. And God, it was embarrassing hearing yourself mewl like a needy bitch.
How couldn't you notice such thing about yourself after so many years of being a Spiderwoman?
Fuck
And why the fuck were you about to cum while having your wrists stimulated? But more importantly, was he really having a boner by toying with you?
"God, you're a pervert..."
You couldn't help but mumble and he pressed tighter on purpose, sending a muffled whimper through your throat, silencing your yapping.
"I rather the term, Man of science, pequeña. Now stay fucking still."
But you couldn't, not when he kneaded so closely to a spot that send your mouth gaping like a fish out of water, begging to be thrown back in the liquid oxygen. He pressed two inches away from the bitty hole, and that was it.
Jaw clenched and your spine arched. His brow quirked with clinical curiosity at your thrashing despair. Breaths paused and shallow, still deciding whether to moan or sob.
"Nmh-Fuck, fuck, oh my god-" Your eyes rolled back, and your insides clamped. Brain vaporising any coherent thought, mouth too busy catching air and sputtering dumb babble at the consuming climax. Contracting and pulsing at nothing as the little dent squirted a silky and sticky rope towards the wall with a soft Thwipsh. He blinked nearly stupidly at what he had just achieved, cracking his apathetic stare for good.
"Dios mío..." He pressed again and again and you sobbed as the web spurted hapzardly, diverting in every direction and etching to whatever surface it touched or landed. He stared with wide eyes between you and the webs. Limp limb suspended in the air.
Toes curled and clenched at the bedsheets, attempting to anchor yourself at the overwhelming sensations that clouded your judgement. Head spun and buzzed with the thrill not even you achieved when handling those annoying reminders of your solitude in your own hands.
For once your spider senses tingled deliciously. His cock twitched almost painfully at what he just witnessed, he groaned and cupped your face to deliver a deep and breathtaking kiss.
"I knew someday, all my work would be rewarded. All those sleepless nights, those sacrifices, would bring someone like you to me."
He panted, examining you with wicked excitement, shaking you softly in his aroused wake.
"You and I, will create something so beautiful even God will be jealous!."
If it wasn't for the ominous meaning behind those words, you'd be amazed and moved at his overboard thrill. He rested his head on your lower belly, a dark grin plastered over his face, fingers padded your skin, warmth spreading through his hand.
Where are you, Miguel?
"I can't wait to see you swollen, carrying the future of this earth, pequeña."
I'm scared
But as quickly as he laid down, he bolted out of your cell, too enraptured in his musings to actually care for your rattled state.
Now that his motives were clear, your need to escape was greater. But maybe if you played your cards well, you'd have a chance.
I need you.
----
The table landed on the wall, shattering in smaller shards that splintered all over the place. Michael's back rose and tensed so tight, his lab robe wrinkled, trapping the fabric in between his muscles.
The corner of his lip twitched, almost like a tick, teeth menaced with baring, fury boiling underneath his skin. If he could, the steam would blow off his ears, but instead he prowled over your unsuspecting and sleeping form in the very back of the lab. Mind assaulting his reasoning with so many questions, but one in particular made his hands to clench into tight fist.
Why weren't you pregnant?
He had came inside in your most dangerous and fertile days, and still, you weren't pregnant.
As much as he was a patient man, he was throughly disappointed at his own failure. Was his seed defective? No.
He had run studies on himself and his results were everything a desperate man in need of children could ask for.
Fertile, fruitful, healthy.
And still, the screen shone brighter on the 'Negative' results.
Hot and furious breath fanned over the glass wall where he saw you sleeping. He'd have to run even more tests on you, start all over and wait for another two weeks.
But what if your body refused him again? Your womb's rejection was an open slap on his face, when he had been nothing but kind to you. He had been taking care of you with the best things, and this is how you repaid him.
It frustrated him beyond reason. But he was a patient man. Weeks were nothing compared to all the time he had already waited. With a final huff, he returned to his lab to correct your stupid hormonal imbalance that was costing him his valuable time and resources.
However, a Public Eye officer barged in, breath in his throat. His personal hounds, and whenever they came in, it only meant one thing. They had found something, and by the scratches and claw like marks on the officer's bleeding shoulder, meant it was something good.
You had to wait for a moment longer.
-----
"Lyla"
Miguel's gruff whisper came behind the corner of the structure he was in. Lyla appeared right on his shoulder.
"Any readings?"
"Some-" She froze for a second, "Ssft-"
Her yellow shade glitched to then appear right before him, she was speaking, but Miguel could barely understand her.
Fuck.
The place's interference was messing up with her programming. His gizmo popped with a message, your location. Beeping in a bright yellow dot within the ever tall and imposing Alchemax building in the middle of the city, like a watchtower.
Your last signal. Earth S-2015.
If you were here, he was sure you'd quip up something about a movie reference, something about a Mordor, whatever the thing meant, to lighten up the mood. He'd never admit it, but it always made him a bit curious as to what you watched or did to entertain yourself. The things you spoke were beyond absurd and still, he listened, inwardly pondering as to what kind of substances your universe used to get that sort of inspiration, but now there was nothing but silence at his side. And he grew tired of it.
No matter how much he had tried to recover or track you, the signal vanished into thin air. And he wasn't happy. At first he thought the gizmo's self restart feature would bring the signal back, but days kept passing, and nothing happened, he even went to the extent of rewiring the trinket's code to see if there was anything between lines, but there was nothing after the current location he was in.
Miguel swung through the buildings, avoiding the constant and alert drones soaring through the sky. Alchemax safety propaganda was plastered all over the place, but this earth's inhabitants looked everything but happy. Unlike his wonderful and manageable utopia he had helped to improve.
Fear was forever etched in their faces, constantly moving, never lingering too much around those mean looking officers. The Public Eye.
Their image all over the city, with low key subduing messages as 'Keep The order', 'Report any anomaly in the nearest station.' It set perfectly with the gloomy, authoritarian and heavy atmosphere of this universe. Chaos brewing in the darkness, awaiting to be unleashed.
His gut felt queasy. He might not have spider senses, but intuition never failed him. And right now it was telling him to find you and get the fuck out as soon as possible. Precisely in that order. He didn't want to pull out a Miles, even if he wanted to on this wretched world. Frustrating as it was, Earth S-2015 was a necessary evil, like his ruler and his major minion.
Not that you were incapable of fending for yourself, one of the main reasons he  didn't act right away, but knowing who was in this place, and the possibilities, made his chest constrict with a new wave of underlying anxiety and dread as  there was no Spider in this earth to protect it.
His watch buzzed a bit too late with a new message from Lyla.
RUN!!!!
A hoard of drones shoot his way, creating a sequential line of explosions, he dodged, tore, and crashed the drones against eachother, as if they were bugs pestering him.
"Look! Another one!"
Some officers didn't wait to appear and shoot their best shots at him. They fired and Miguel fought back, talons in hands, ripping and tearing flesh.
They had taken you, and a cold sweat ran down his spine.
Mierda...
He took one officer by his neck, masked face came into view as his teeth bared.
"The other one, where is she?!" he seethed but the man was stupid enough to oppose. He thrashed, which only added gasoline to Miguel's already blazing fury. Talons dug in the man's tender flesh, but even so, the officer had managed to impale a needle on his arm. It's liquid immediately melting into Miguel's muscles.
It stung.
With a hiss, Miguel let the man go, too focused on the sudden burning sensation spreading through his arm and body like a wildfire. Breathings took a couple of seconds to turn erratic, lights flickered and dances before his eyes.
Concéntrate, mierda! (Fucking focus)
The remaining officers jumped on him, using their subduing tools on him, an electrical shock here and there, a couple of stabs that had him kneeling, punches that definitely got all air out of his scorching lungs. It hurted to breath, to move, to see. His photophobia was rampant as lights were suddenly on him.
Miguel tried to cover his eyes but punches kept coming, he lunged and swung back to nothing but air, as his faculties were in a painful sensorial overload. The last thing he could manage in between blurry and prancing lights was the officer's wicked smile, stretching. Darkness claimed him.
----
"Me estás hartando, quédate quieta de una vez!" (I'm getting tired of this, stay still!)
The lack of exercising had made you slow, he didn't give you enough time to fight back when dragging you by the ankles while you were in the best of your nap. The alerts in your body kicked a bit too late, and like he had done before, his hips grounded yours, suffocating their squirming as his hand squeezed the wrists, needle menacing on his other hand, a pinkish liquid shook within.
"Fuck you!"
With a low growl he smashed your hands against the mattress, earning him a painful yelp, and it was his chance to sink the needle on your neck, a sting that immediately stifled your body, a brief itch spreaded through before turning into a cool shot of drug.
"Don't worry... We'll get to it later. But I need your body cooperating first."
You tried batting his hands away, but he held your face, and you gulped. He was staring.
Michael Stone was staring at you.
Thrill, joy, and something eldritch within his beautiful eyes. It scared as it intrigued you.
"What did you just put in me!?"
His nose nuzzled on the crook of your neck and crooned, "Nothing you should worry about, pequeña. Just a little enhance that will take my investigation to the next level."
His nose revelled up to your neck, body shuddering with the soft kisses left imprinted on your skin. It confused you.
One moment he treated you like the best thing he had ever had, and the next he manhandled you like a rag doll, pumping whatever substances he thought right into your bloodstream.
"Ger'off me!" A backlash and he chuckled.
"You're amusing. Might keep you as a pet once my child is born." He frowned suddenly, like if an idea had came into mind, pondering.
"Or not, I could grow it on my own... But, no no. It wouldn't be the same, wouldn't it?." His peering landed on your abdomen, ready to see it plump. "Call. me traditionalist in that way, but there is nothing more beautiful than seeing life growing within a perfect specimen." His eyes twinkled. 
"You're a sick fuck, you know that?"
"You loved having this sick fuck inside, pequeña. Your mouth might be spilling nonsense, but your cunt" He cupped it suddenly, shutting you up right away, "neither data lies."
A thick lump was swallowed down your throat.
"Rest well, I've got a surprise for you."
The smirk on his lips was everything but a good omen. And the heat increasing on your body didn't help. Hormones were slowly coming to a riot, spider tingle ringing harder for a moment.
Great.
Fingers rubbed on where he sunk the needle, wishing that for once he wouldn't use the thick ones. A tiny red smudge came into the pad of your fingertip.
Asshole.
----
Disgust, curiosity and repulsion.
Those were the main reads on Miguel's bruised face when Michael was before him, having a taste of his lips, but quickly backed up upon feeling the prong of his fangs grazing at his tongue. Miguel spat away his taste.
"Vete a la mierda, cabrón!" (Fuck you, asshole)
"Oh" His smirk went wider, almost wicked. He wasted no time in securing his grip on Miguel's chin to probe and poke at his mouth, revelling at every single thing within his structure.
"This is... perfect! With you and my vessel, we'll create-"
Michael jumped backwards as Miguel tried to lunge for him, but to no avail, chains clinked on his feet and wrists, restraining him.
"Now, now. What happened to that... friendly neighborhood thing your species used to preach? Is it a ruse?"
Miguel's fury burned brighter than the sun, he was ablaze, the Ethyl Chloride still railed within his bloodstream. He'd have to wait a bit more, just a bit for it's effects to leave his system and he'd free himself.
Never in his life had the urge of hurting someone came so strong on him, but he needed to be as collected as possible if he wanted to find you.
Even if his evil twin's hand roamed over his chest, measuring and probing his physiology. What's with everyone trying to get a piece of him?
His sight landed on something that undeniably belonged to you, a piece of your suit, under a microscope. Michael followed Miguel's line of sight and smiled, naturally, proud even.
"She's been a good specimen. The best one I've got so far."
A cold shudder ran down Miguel's back, eyes immediately on him, venom dripping in his words as they came out in a growl
"What have you done?"
Michael shrugged nonchalant, pride swelling up his chest. "Nothing but my work, Mr. O'Hara. And now that I've got you, you'll help me too."
"Te juro que si has hecho algo para lastimarla-" (I swear if you've done something to hurt her)
"Oh no, no. Im not that kind of monster." Michael tinkered with some tubes as he pulled a couple strands off Miguel's head. The Boss shook his head away from his tweezers.
"But she can get annoying sometimes. Nothing that pleasure helps to shut her up"
Miguel's eyes went wide, horror and anger in tandem within his crimson gaze.
His talons poked out, itching to tear the man before him, until he was nothing but bloody chum, fuck the canon, fuck this dimension. He'd do everyone a favor, unlike the first time he broke the rules.
"But dread not. Tonight is very special" Michael smiled at Miguel, but it didn't reached his eyes. The same pink liquid he injected on you was now flowing in Miguel's veins, thanks to thw needles in his shackles.
"Mating season is around the corner , isn't it?"
Miguel scowled, wary as Michael made his arms and legs restricted to the metallic wall of his confinement, hitting his head in the process. A wave of pain invaded Miguel's skull.
"I won't hurt her, no. But I won't allow you to take her away from me."
Michael pressed a button, sending shockwaves through Miguel's body, suit glitching out, until it disappeared, leaving a bare, righteous doppelganger of himself at his feet, panting, gritting his teeth and growling in pain.
Michael leered at Miguel unabashedly, smoke oozed from his shimmery tan skin, and the madman nodded, pleased.
"You spider-folk are unique and wonderful creatures indeed."
It was the last thing Miguel heard before another electrical and unexpected shock subdued him to darkness.
----
Miguel
His mind was a puddle. Nothing coherent could properly take shape in his brain. His body was heavy, doused in a borderline painful heat, the same sort of feeling he'd get once his body entered this spider-like urge to mate.
Miguel!
The voice calling him was familiar, but it's tinge sent a delicious pulsation right to the tip of his already twitching cock.
Wake up!
Leaden-lids parted enough to take in his surroundings again, consciousness returning to his empty body. But as it did, the strong tidal waves of his arousal drowned him in.
It didn't help he kept hearing these delicious mewls and pants, begging for him to do something simple as to wake up. The constant slaps of flesh and the breathless moans made a trail of precum escape his flushed and sensitive tip. Thick veins decored his pulsating girth, aching painfully to sink in something. To be wrapped in nothing but snug zeal.
"F-Fuck... Wake up, please!"
Another garbled moan that ended in an acute whimper. And that made him growl. His toes curled in, bleary sight finally taking focus on what was going on.
He could only blink at the scene. Stupid and high in need. Dying to be free and unleash himself.
"Ohmygod-" you hiccuped, watching him, flushed cheeks, mouth gaping and panting, exhaling deep and sweet mewls his body yearned to induce
"Miguel!"
You called, waking him up despite your insides getting a good rearrangement by Michael. The latter was too keen in watching his reaction as he smacked himself against you, his cheeks reddened in want.
You were spreaded like a book ontop of the sitting madman, back colliding with his bare chest, hands cuffed within two metallic hoops, hooked behind Michael's head; cunt swallowing him inside, choking with his continuous thrustings, slapping the back of your ass over and over as his hands kept your thighs apart and close to your chest, providing Miguel with a 4K image of your bullied and glistening pussy.
The way Michael pushed in so swiftly made Miguel's cock to erupt with another pre cum bead. Your breast swayed and bounced at the rough pace settled underneath. A rhythmic slap, like a perfect metronome for an obscene and wet melody.
The little rational part of Miguel told him, demanded him to look away. To spare you some shame, but his body had been rewired in such way he was unable to tear his oggling away, cause he could feel the need to break the chains and do a better job than Michael. He'd destroy you. He needed to.
Michael's hands made you hold the back of your own thighs, so he could plow deeper. And your spine arched as your toes curled, legs shook and a sweet acute cry echoed through the lab, announcing your first orgasm.
Miguel's sore cock twitched. Begging him to jump into action. His mouth watered as your pussy swallowed Michael's cock so deep and tight that a frothy, creamy ring nested at the base of his tightened balls, contracting as the madman came inside your snug hole.
Your arousal awakened a primal need in him, to the point that his talons dug in the fat of his palm, cutting skin and bleeding, like his bottom lip. Plump mouth heaved, his throat rumbled with gutural growls the more he stared, hypnotized at your post-bliss face.
Miguel whimpered, like a kicked dog, a deep flush invading his heaving countenance.
"Seems the serum is also making effect"
Michael slicked his hair back and gave an excited sigh, "I think it's time to see his performance, right?"
Michael pushed you away from his body, Bambi-like legs failed their attempt to hold your whole frame. You fell on the ground with a wheeze. Miguel immediately lunged, but his restrains held him back, prevented him from achieving his main goal.
Crimson eyes turned darker, nearly matching Michael's. The latter pressed a button and the collar on Miguel fell with a clank on the floor.
"M-Miguel" it was difficult to find your voice when it was scrapped raw and dry, but still, you had to try.
"We... we gotta leave. Do you hear me?"
Of course he did, but his mating cycle was on peak, thanks to Michael. He had messed up the natural process by accelerating his heat prematurely.
Why would he leave when he was about to wreck you?
His feet were unlocked. You gave Michael a pleading look while trying to crawl away. When the last lock clicked free, your breath hitched.
It felt like a slow motion as you looked over your shoulders, marked with hickeys Michael left. Pupils wide blown as Miguel lurched forward, stalking and hovering over you. Cock smearing his pre cum in whatever skin it landed, marking you with his scent as he  manhandled your hips up, aligning them with his girth.
His hand was big enough to keep your whole head on the floor. Michael cackled as Miguel sunk in deep in a powerful roll of his hips, earning a stuttering grunt through clenched teeth from you.
The fat of your ass trembled, your clasped hands curled underneath your torso, in dire need of holding onto something, cause Miguel merciless plows were fucking any coherent thought.
Your whole body shook underneath him, cunt ever tight, your juices and Michael's cum made him easier to delve in a pace you knew would scrap your knees, cause he wasn't stopping nor waning.
Michael circled you both, hand on his cock, stroking himself at the sheer display of primal desire. The whole show made him hard, specially when seeing your engorged clit peeking underneath Miguel's jackhammering frame, flushed from the unceasing beating the hero's balls provided it.
"Just like that" Michael husked, and whimpered as you did nothing but sputter nonsensical and lewd blabbering.
Miguel's fingertips sunk tighter as they grope your hips firmly to keep you from lurching forward, despite him plunging into you with abandonment, as if with every thrust he'd say take it.
Take it for disobeying.
Your toes curled in and your jaw slacked open, unable to keep it together.
Take it for not following instructions.
"M... Mig-"
Bendito... He was just starting and you were already clamping onto him in a grip so tight it only matched the way he was holding your beautiful and generous hips.
"You're almost there, Mr. O'Hara! Keep it going!"
One specific thrust had your eyes watering and rolling back. A pathetic and incomplete scream made Michael to kneel behind you both. His eyes were too dazed in how Miguel fucked you. Dancing up and down, like the strokes of his hands on his cock.
Miguel secured your head in a tight headlock that cut your air supply enough to clench on him, again. Strong biceps trapped your airy head, clouded with a biting desire that came stronger every time you breathed.
Michael groaned when Miguel pulled a last thrust, sheathing to the hilt, forcing a powerful and milky kiss on your cervix. The madman's mouth wasted no time to sink in between Miguel's firm glutes, tasting him, squeezing and pushing him towards his face, tongue fucking the tight hole, earning a low but stuttering growl from a surprised Miguel. Glasses fogging at the rising temperature.
"Fucking delicious." He mumbled with a smack of his lips to focus his attention in your flushed and sensitive cunt. When Miguel pulled out, Michael was already pushing him away, to then prowl at your throbbing cunt, gathering the leaking cum on his tongue, revelling in the taste as he pushed it back inside with a soft dribble.
"W-Wait" You hissed, his moist muscle had been wonderful once, but right now it felt rough. Flesh too sensitive to the touch.
Miguel staggered, body overridden with a relentless urge to be inside you again, but his body screamed for a rest, the venom still lingered on his muscles. Michael on the other hand, cradled and sunk you once more ontop of him.
"The more you take, the more chances you'll get pregnant are." He explained underneath you. Tears rolled down your flustered cheeks, overstimulated and pearled, glowy skin by the thin layer of sweat etched in every slope and dint in your body.
Michael licked them with a groan while his hips smacked yours in a slow but deep, deep rut, pulling the last coherent thoughts through muffled groans and hiccuping mewls, while you shook your head vehemently.
"You're so perfect, pequeña"
"T-Too much" you croaked
Michael sunk you in a swift move, as his slapping hips met yours upwards, sending a jolt of electricity through your body.
"No, no. you can. You're strong, bonita. You can take me." His crooning was eerie, yet so alluring it blurred the line between monster and devotee.
Pleasure clung to your brain with such force it was dizzying. Every pore of your body oozed with the pheromones the serum produced, creating a tantalizing smell that lured Michael and Miguel's attention.
The grumpy hero could only watch you squirm as another cock that wasn't his, wrecked your insides in a tortuous pace.
"Fuck" He grunted, feeling the consuming and mind numbing drug licking at every inch of his cinnamon skin, imploring to feel you again.
Even though the Ethyl Chloride's effect had been long gone, the serum reacted to your pheromones. Meaning he'd need to provoke one more peak to have the effects completely worn out.
He'd feel sorry and awful all he wanted later, his priority was to get you out of this madman's claws. But...
It was impossible not to think in how good you felt, how delicious your whole body contorted while witnessing the way Michael subdued you to ride him as he captured one of your nipples in his urgent mouth. Lovely and plump bumps of flesh jiggled at the tempo, outer folds that without a doubt would be so sensitive to the touch, parted and guzzled Michael's veiny cock.
Miguel crawled to you both.
How well you had taken them each., Adjusting perfectly at their sizes, like a perfect flesh sleeve.
He hovered over the both and smoothed away the strands of hair that stuck on your flushed and gorgeously fucked out face.
The heat was consuming, and Michael's pace wasn't enough. The madman noted you were reaching the peak of the serum functionality as you urged your wobbly hips clumsily on his.
Despite you not being able to properly verbalise your pleasure, you still sought it. Michael's wicked fantasies came true when Miguel pushed you tighter against him, as if wanting to flush your body and Michael's as one being, just to have a proper glimpse of the sight that had him guiding his tip towards your already stuffed entrance.
Detente (Stop)
But he couldn't, he couldn't stop himself from entering you, knees flexing as he lowered his pelvis, pushing inch my inch deeper. Earning an ascending pleasurable wail from you.
Your eyes widened and your jaw clenched, baring your teeth as he also sheathed inside, womb so full it bulged.
Michael's laugh echoed through the room. Everything had came as planned.
"Let's make you a wonderful mother, mi pequeña."
Oh my god.
A panting groan escaped as Michael moved in first, igniting the painfully delicious friction inside you. He wasn't only stimulating you, but Miguel as well. The snug crevice too tight for them to coexist in peace, yet there they were, fighting over who pulled the last peak and thread of rationality out of you.
Their cocks pumping and prodding had your spine arching. Miguel grabbed a fistful of your front strands and pulled backwards, hiding his face in the crook of your neck, letting your chest exposed to Michael. He wasted no time into pushing both of your breasts together, tongue alternating between the left and right.
Sucking, lapping, wriggling his hot muscle on your taut peaks, making a mess out of them by creating more hickeys in every inch of salty tasting visible skin.
"Michael!" You whimpered and it was enough for Miguel to plow harder. The sinful makeout session of their cocks inside your walls made you pant, beg and laugh like a total loon.
A streak of saliva escaped the corner of your gaping mouth. Head lolled back and fro, fried brain with the lust both men induced you, floating on cloud nine. You didn't want to come down to earth, much less when Miguel and Michael's groans and moans over you, urged you to be the best cum dumpster ever.
Miguel pulled your handcuffed hands underneath your chin, beckoning your lips to his. His mouth suffocated any future moan as you bounced on both.
Your one and only boss didn't need you wailing his name to know you ached for him. But Michael was set into having a proper taste out of you both.
He pulled you closer, pushing deeper inside you. Michael's lips erased all trace of Miguel's on yours, to then kiss Miguel. To his surprise, Miguel didn't oppose, too gone in the sensations this mass of tangled limbs offered.
Michael hands roamed your body and Miguel's, feeling his own climax approach.
Hearing Miguel's animalistic growls on your ear, made your clit throb. He pounded with every fiber of his body, urging you to reach the stars and play with them.
Your cunt soaked them, too wrecked and ruined to care. Like your mind. It didn't matter who fucked better, all your body asked was fresh cum, deep in your womb.
The serum coaxed you to move faster, almost matching the rhythm of their whomps. The sound of your greedy and drooling hole being battered was music to their ears.
Michael whimpered and his spine arched, finally reaching his peak, spurting his hot sticky scent inside. Miguel hissed and held Michael close, watching him.
Limbs nearly cramped as they curled in, hands fisted tightly on each side of his trembling body, eyes rolled back, mouth panting, head too heavy to think straight. And that's when Miguel sunk his fangs on his neck, injecting his paralyzing venom on his bloodstream.
A pornographic and slurred moan erupted from Michael, his wicked smirk widened as his body slowly but surely, lost all control of his nerves, unable to command them to move.
Miguel had to resist the urge to come inside. He knew he had a couple of minutes before Michael regained mobility, and as heavenly as you felt, he pulled out of you, drowning his orgasm with regained self control, earning a small hissing as he pulled you out too, gently, off Michael.
Legs and body refused to cooperate. With clumsy steps he stood, taunting the surfaces for support. He slanted against the table, gasping for air.
Miguel shook his head and threw a quick look to Michael, still on the floor, but now groaning in discomfort. Even his tongue had numbed out.
Miguel didn't waste time and sauntered over the next table where pieces of his gizmo laid neatly arranged in a metallic tray. He swept them all in a container, along the tubes filled with his samples.
Like Hobie, he took other parts of machinery in a quickened pace to finally grab a couple of lab robes. He wore one and covered your overworked body, to then throw you above his shoulder.
"Nos vamos." (We're leaving)
Michael groaned, loudly. Anger was felt in every gurgle his throat did. Despair widened in the only thing that still remained movable in his numb face. They darted between you and Miguel, begging him to leave you there.
He groaned again, losing sight once Miguel swung with you from a window.
"Hold on tight if you can" Miguel's voice cooed as you two escaped.
-----
Michael had to douse some pain killer spray on the two slits done in his neck.
How could he not forsee this? How could he miss something so obvious that ended up messing his one decade old plan?
He let his emotion get the best out of him, fouling up his usual calculating judgment, replacing it with excitement.
A Public Eye squad remained before him, awaiting for his orders.
"Find them. I need the woman alive, understood?"
"What about the... other one? The monster?" The same officer Miguel had sliced through and marked, spoke.
The lights in the screen gave Michael a sinister red hue on his face, light reflecting on his glasses.
"He's not a monster, Johnson." Dr. Stone smirked, copying your information in his database, "There can't be two of us."
Johnson, the captain, nodded. The squad obeyed, and the hunt was on.
-
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thexsilentxwordsmith · 3 months
Text
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Pussydrunk!Simon "Ghost" Riley x Cockdrunk!Fem!Reader
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Fandom: Call of Duty
Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader
Summary: Simon comes home from deployment, hungry to have his pretty girl all to himself. Things get heated quick and before long you are both drunk off the feeling of the other. From this ask here.
Word Count: 5.4 k
Warnings:
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The moment those heavy boots hit the threshold of the apartment, brown eyes are searching for you as Simon’s heart pounds in his ears the same as it had the entire drive over. He’s been gnawing at the bit since even before he returned to base a day ago, aching to get back to the gorgeous being living in his flat. The last month of his deployment he’s been on edge, counting down the days in agonizing fashion as the craving growing in the pit of his stomach gets worse and worse. Fuck, he’s missing you - all of you - something fierce. 
Simon has missed those sweet moans of yours, the way you make his name sound so perfect through the stuttered gasps as you reach that level of incoherence that renders you completely useless; he has missed all the ways your body moves against and underneath him, writhing and back arching as his larger form overwhelms you; he has missed the way you fuck him, body begging for more even as you struggle to fit him all in and how beautiful it is to be inside you. 
It is enough to drive the man insane.
From the bedroom you can hear the door opening and closing and rush to the living room as quick as your legs can move, carried by giddy nerves to see your lover again after so long. You knew he was meant to be in today, but not the time and so you’ve been on edge waiting and listening; as soon as you see him a deepening ache situates itself in your chest. 
Simon clocks you as you come into the living room and he can’t find enough air to fill his lungs; by the way your cheeks instantly glow with warmth and your eyes sparkle he’s sure you are feeling the same tension fill the air around you the moment you two are in sight of one another. You are the one to close the distance as Simon’s limbs feel too heavy to move at first, blood being drawn to other places along his body that need it more now that he is near to the object of his desire. 
“Hey there stranger,” you smile up into those familiar balaclava- clad features as your heartbeat steadily becomes more erratic from your body flooding with that desperate longing to be against him once again. It is always the same: when you two are apart for long periods when he has to be away the moment you are in front of one another again it is like striking a match in a room filled with gasoline. “Long time no see.” 
He stares back down at you, light chocolate eyes taking in the face he hasn’t seen properly in too damn long. “Well ‘ello there yerself, pretty girl,” he returns, gravely tone sending chills down your spine as he drops the gear on his shoulder to the floor so that he has free range of motion to cup his calloused hand along your soft, delicate cheek. “It’s been a hot fuckin’ minute. Did ya miss me, luv?”
Before his brain can register what’s happening he senses something brush up against him in the small space still between your bodies and as his eyes travel down he sees that your hand is grabbing at his belt buckle, silky digits lacing themselves around the metal clasp. His eyes jump back up to yours instantly.
You aren’t wasting any time, are you? Fucking hell.
“Missed you a whole fucking lot, Simon,” you say under your breath as you give his belt a firm tug forward so that he has to take a step into you. Your thighs are already being rubbed together where you stand; it’s instant the way he can turn you on just by his presence alone. “Didn’t know when you’d be in; been waiting as patiently as I could, but I gotta say it hasn’t been easy. Got my nerves all flustered. How about you? Are you flustered, baby?”
You just have to do it, don’t you? That one damned gesture that always sends him reeling.
It isn’t a secret how the time apart makes him pine for you as if he is a man dying of thirst: for those hot, breathless moments spent between your thighs, for the way your bodies seem created only for the other, for the intense sensations of euphoria that only you can give him. So when your fingers hook into his belt to pull him in closer, you know what effect it will have on making him crumble, don’t you? 
Eight months is far too fucking long not to have any piece of you and any little touch would have done the trick to do him in, but you know the exact combination that will have him throwing you on your back in a heartbeat. He is a man starved of his addiction and it’s about goddamn time he had another hit. As you tug at the leather with a smirk across your lips, doe-eyed stare not so innocent anymore, all that yearning that had been bubbling right under the calm surface of those autumn-colored eyes for eight long, agonizing months explodes with force. 
No words, not a goddamn sound as that skull mask is ripped up off of Simon’s face in a flash quicker than your eyes can catch. Your body is moved by two strong arms more than capable of manhandling those curves with ease and find yourself slammed into the wall while he clasps your chin securely in his grip so that hungry lips can scramble to aggressively capture your own. While your lips dance, his free hand roams up under your clothes to grab ahold of any piece of available flesh as all that pent up desire surges through his veins like liquid fire. His fingertips tremble as they brush across all that soft, balmy skin along your abdomen and around your hips, making him produce a guttural moan into your open mouth that you are forced to swallow down. 
That huge, hulking body of his with its prominent muscles bulging everywhere even through his clothing overwhelms your own as he pins you harder against the wall while his grip descends to around your ass so that he can bring your hips forward, clothed pelvis rutting into you to catch any extra bit of friction he can as that tenting at the crotch of his pants swells the longer he grinds against you. His mouth is insatiable, stealing sloppy, frantic kisses one after another until your lips burn from the abrasion… and yet you still aren’t satisfied. 
Simon feels your nipples through your t-shirt stiffening as his chest rubs against them, a reminder to his numbing brain that there is even more of a feast for him waiting just beneath your clothes if he can just get them off you; the couple of nudes he keeps in his phone that you send him while he’s away are only a pale comparison to the real fucking thing and he’s been dying see it in person.
You’re close to one another, but not fucking close enough. 
He needs skin on skin, curves molded into curves, cock buried in you deep. That’s the crux of it all - he needs to be reminded of what you feel like wrapped around him, lose his mind as your cunt gives him the sensation he can get nowhere else from no one else. It consumes him in that moment until his thoughts are filled with nothing but the oncoming ecstasy that will soon be his. 
Feverish fingers slip themselves into the waistband at the back of your pants as he continues to rut against you, the few layers of fabric between you about to be reduced as he shoves down taking your pants over the arch of your ass until they fall around your ankles and you can step out of them. Your own fingers are already undoing the buckle of his belt before your clothes can hit the floor; thank fuck that Simon likes to keep his wardrobe uncomplicated when on leave. 
“Christ, I’m so fuckin’ hard for ya, sweetheart,” he breathes the heated, desperate words against your raw lips as hips continue to grind on you and make your work that much more difficult, “it’s been hell being away for so long. I’ve been fuckin’ starved, baby. That sweet little pussy of yours is callin’ my fuckin’ name. I need it, I need ya…fuckin’ can’t wait another goddamn second.” 
The muscles along his abdomen tense through his shirt as you brush against them until finally his belt comes loose and you can move onto the button securing his pants. You finish undoing everything just in time for him to tear that fucking shirt clean off your top half before doing exactly the same to his own. 
The middle of his chest is flushed pink and hastily you lean in to press your lips to it, through the tingle against your mouth from tiny hairs brushing over the delicate skin you can feel he is so warm it’s like he’s heated from the inside out. That broad chest heaves up and down heavily with the weight of his lust-filled breaths as you dot tender pecks along the center before he can’t take anymore and picks you up, throws you over his shoulder, and hurriedly drags you off to the bedroom hungry and ready to indulge.  
“That’s it,” Simon says in that brash tone that lets you know he’s reached his limit. “Can’t take this ache ‘nother goddamn second. You and that sweet thing between your legs are mine now.”  
He’s able to make it across the apartment in no time and throws open the bedroom door so that it hits the wall behind it with a booming thud as he stalks to the bed and sets you down on the surface, making sure to remove the pants hanging loosely around his hips as quick as he can along with his boxers. The moment he’s free of the clothing binding him that thick, meaty appendage springs to life, bobbing at attention as the vein along it pulses, and your breath hitches as your eyes are drawn to it; he’s not the only one who’s hungry and its been a hot fucking minute since you’ve laid eyes on all he has to offer.
You barely have time to scramble up towards the pillows at the head of the bed before he is crawling up towards you, a predator’s gaze making his iris’ flash and sparkle with an internal fire in the scant bit of light from the bedside lamp that illuminates the room. 
Simon’s shoulder muscles tense as he moves on all fours until he’s over you, his cock dangling down as he gets between your legs so that it drags over the petals of your pussy. You can feel it throb as it becomes even more engorged with blood at the stimulation and it makes your mouth salivate. A strained grunt echoes through his closed lips as the tip grazes over that silky, heated skin between your thighs; he’s already vibrating with pleasure… what the fuck is gonna happen when he gets inside?
Only one way to find out…
Simon pulls your legs up high around his waist, wide torso keeping you nice and spread for him. You claw at his shoulder blades with your nails as you shove your hips into him, body practically begging for him to get inside already. Screw any foreplay, you can’t afford to wait and let this frantic moment slip by. There is only one thing you want in you and it is already throbbing at its destination. 
“Fuck, please Simon, just get inside me,” your plea sends a shiver down his spine. “I don’t want to fucking wait…waited long enough.”
Spitting into his hand he applies the moisture to your entrance, lubricating the opening with hard presses of his fingertips along your cunt to help get things moving in the right direction. “Been a while, baby,” he returns as he aligns the tip and presses it against you while trying not to fall apart at the seams, “ya sure ya can still fuckin’ take it all?”
You nod aggressively, the need to be filled out by him overwhelming your every sense. You’ve waited patiently all this time, chomping at the bit for him to get back to you and now that he is here between your legs it’s all you can think about. “Give it to me,” you demand. “I need it baby, please, I’m aching something terrible. I need to feel you inside me again.”
How could he ever deny a request like that from you? 
The world falls away as the tip slips through the threshold of your body and inside and he has to stop as just the head alone stretching you wide sends him spiraling. Your back arches off of the bed as you squirm under him, mouth falling open with half-formed moans that get caught in the back of your throat as the tight space is beginning to fill. Simon shudders with ecstasy, sucking his bottom lip in between his teeth to bite down in hopes that the sharp pain will force him to stay sane.  
Another thrust shoves him in a bit more so that now he’s more than halfway there, but still has just a bit to go. Your body doesn’t stand a chance as you lay under him at his mercy. His fingernails graze your waist as his hands hold on tight; he has to fit it in, get to the base, completely surround himself within you. Taking a deep breath he gathers another burst of energy to thrust all the way until he bottoms out and you release a cry into the silence of the room. 
“Goddamn ya feel so fuckin’ good princess, like a goddamn dream,” he gasps out as his head snaps down against your chest. “Pretty girl, my pretty fuckin’ girl, wanna keep ya fuckin’ full ‘a me all the time.”
Simon’s brain is quickly becoming mush as the warmness and growing wetness of your pussy makes his large form quiver at the bliss. You are no better, sanity slipping away as his hefty cock practically molds your walls to his specific shape as it rests inside. Hips begin to rock and are immediately punctuated by a deep-throated groan with each snap as he settles into a steady rhythm.   
Thrust after thrust each one harder than the last pushes your body until it is shoved up and your head hits the wall behind the bed. Simon’s nose nuzzles into your neck as feeble whimpers leave the confines of your mouth and pack his head full. “Missed your sounds too,” he says, amidst another thrust. “Keep this up and it’s gonna be my fuckin’ end, sweetheart.” Another strong thrust follows and then another.  
A yearning need to see himself fuck your gorgeous body suddenly engulfs his mind and so he slow sits himself up on his knees, making sure to keep himself inside you, so that he can get the perfect birdseye view of the beautiful way your body takes him in. It’s perfection and he cannot help but become absorbed in watching as each thrust in and out makes his cock disappear inside that narrow passage only to slip back out covered in more of your juices with each pass. 
Over and over his hips rock into you, the muscles along his abdomen clenching, fingertips digging into your sides to hold you still as his speed steadily increases the longer he goes. Your music fills his head, whimpers of pleasure as he strikes against your g-spot from the angle he’s positioned in, and that is the only thing that is floating in there now as everything else becomes a blur. 
The stoic and collected military officer is reduced to a glorious mess the longer he thrusts, drooling over you, going blind and delirious at the feeling of those tight, silky walls sucking him all in as they flutter around his cock. It’s been too long, too many nights spent alone without your company stuck half-way across the world with only his hand to keep him occupied when he can get a free moment, which those were few and far between. But nothing, nothing ever could compare to the feeling of you.
“Can’t get enough,” he stammers with a groan, so wrapped up in the moment that speech is near impossible to produce. “Fuckin’ desperate for ya, need more…need fuckin’ more…”
Simon is deep inside you and yet that ache is still monstrous, eating him alive so that anything outside of the ecstasy of your flesh is just fucking gone. He can’t think, he can’t breathe, he’s obsessed with your body. It isn’t enough though, never enough. You have completely consumed him; he is under your spell and nothing can break the charm.
His head is spinning, thoughts vacant like he is wasted; fuck, he’s high off the sensation of your pussy clenching around him. Now that he is inside you, there is no way he can leave anytime soon. There’s no goddamn way he’s going to let either of you come yet, not after how long you two have gone without each other. 
That hot coil tensing in the pit of his stomach pulls tighter and tighter, but he will not let it snap… not yet. No, he needs this to last as long as he physically can keep it up and so he knows what he has to do and with all his strength he does it; that once intense pounding slows down until he stops amongst your whimpered mewling. 
“What’re you doing?” you stutter, hips desperately trying to buck against him, but he pins them down for a bit. 
“Uh, uh,” he shakes his head, “don’t ya fuckin’ dare think you’re gonna come yet. Ya feel too fuckin’ good to let go of.”
Oh shit… You were in for it now, but just how much you could have never guessed. 
“No…no, please… I need you to keep going,” you plead as your throat strains to release the words, water rimming the whites of your eyes. That consuming ache is so deep in your bones it threatens to devour you whole, causing you to rip at the very seams as it permeates every fiber of your being until your entire form is primed like an explosive ready to combust. You can’t breathe, you can’t fucking think; everything is focused on how much the feeling of him is consuming all of you like a fire burning through dry tinder.
A shuddering breath escapes his lips; even stopping doesn’t help much, your body just feels too good and so he has to at least rut carefully against it. “I know, baby, I know,” he groans as his fingers dig into your hip to now force you to grind your clit into the base of his shaft. “But ya want this to fuckin’ last, yeah? Ya don’t wanna be done with me just yet, do ya?”
That thick, veiny appendage lay inside you, its girth stretching out the walls of your cunt to capacity as it simply rests there throbbing with the beat of his rapid heart rate, stewing in the filthy mess of juices he’s already made between your legs. You choke on a whimper as the stimulation to your clit sends a shockwave through to your toes and you clench them together, gathering some of the sheets into their grip. 
“No,” you shake your head wildly. “You just feel so fucking good, I can’t help it… feels so good… I just wanna keep feeling good with you, Simon.”
“I know, sweet girl,” he praises as he leans forward and presses his burning lips to the skin on your stomach, knowing that no matter what you would have said he wasn’t going to let you tap out yet; he needs your pussy like he needs air to survive. “It’s been too fuckin’ long since we’ve been able ta do this…need ta make up for all the lost time.” 
Simon’s dreamt about this the entire time you’ve been apart; insatiable, desperate, carnal fantasies about fucking your tight hole to within an inch of your sanity, making you come so hard that you can’t move for hours after. His cock has been throbbing for months with nothing but his fucking hand to take the edge off as he pictures filling out every inch of your hole until there is nowhere left for his cock to go.
Another couple of minutes of simply breathing, grinding, and focusing on the way the skin of your torso is so soft against his lips and he’s far enough from that ledge that he wants to start thrusting full force again. He leans down and wraps his arms around your body and you take it as a sign that he’s going to start up again, only for him to roll you both until you are the one on top now. The movement is unexpected, but you are more than willing to go along with it if it means you can take control of your own pleasure. 
As he situates himself under you, his hands roam up and down your sides while he takes a second to enjoy how you look perched over him: full tits directly in his face, hair cascading around your cheeks as you peer down into his face, eyes rolling back in your head every time a sensitive point gets stimulated. You are his fucking fantasy when you get on top. 
“I wanna have ya ride me for a bit,” he breathes. “Show me how good ya ride it, pretty girl. Make my cock your toy.”
As long as he stays inside you, you’ll do whatever the hell he wants.    
Placing your hands on his hard chest for support while his hand moves back to your hips, Simon guides you up and down until you are bouncing in rhythm to match his racing heartbeat. Harder and harder he shoves you forcefully down to get as deep into you as possible until you can feel bruises rising where his hands have a hold of you, yet that doesn’t matter at all as you can only comprehend the way his cock is rendering you too fucking dumb to think of anything else.  
Pushing down against his chest you bob up and down on your knees as best as you can, trying to keep up with his relentless pace. He told you to use him, but all you want is for him to make you his living fleshlight as you are forced to take it all. Your movements start to get sloppy after a time as you can hardly keep yourself focused anymore with how good it feels and Simon takes notice, though he is ready with the solution.
His hips start to strike up into your pussy as even though he is beneath you he is more than capable of taking control, not wanting to move into a new position just yet. You whimper and whine with your mouth hung open as each percussive hit sends shockwaves of euphoria ripping through you just like you want. This is too much for anyone to handle: you being entirely ravaged by him until you are so desperately lost in the pleasure of it all that you are in a complete state of full body bliss. 
You can only sit and take every last delectable inch that he gives you as his massive girth stretches your walls with every thrust of his pelvis upward. The room fills with the wet, sticky music of your bodies slapping against each other as he works your hole as if this is the last chance he will ever get to fuck you and he needs to make it count.
Minute after minute, his full attention being focused solely on you, each stroke along that incredibly sensitive bundle of nerves inside your core drives you increasingly closer to that razor’s edge and threatens to violently throw you off at any point without notice. He must be feeling it too, for again his thrusting slows until he is simply grinding against you once again and that building pressure falls away. 
Over and over again this happens, Simon edging you both closer and closer before struggling to back off and changing positions in a constant rotation, each position just as mind-numbing as the last now that you are cockdrunk. You find yourself on your knees with your head shoved into the mattress  and then on your side with him pressed up against your back, bouncing on top with his hand desperately cupping at your tits and then returning to where it all started on your back, all the while the constant humping during the calmer moments keeps you primed and yet just far enough off the edge that each new round keeps building towards that desperate end. 
Goddamn his stamina is something of legend, but when he wants something bad enough he will make it work no matter how hard he must push himself. And right now he cannot get enough of you no matter how he tries. 
Fuck, your clit is throbbing so hard you think you might pass out, the room so warm your hair sticks to the sides of your face, the scent of sex pungent with each ragged breath shared between your close mouths; every single sense overstimulated to the point of barely being able to process it all. You are perched on his lap with your arms wrapped around his neck, foreheads pressed together tight with eyes shut. 
Simon leans in to kiss your raw mouth, but even the contact from your lips makes him gasp from the sensitivity. Your legs are shaking violently now as he’s slowed once more, every muscle pushed to its limit as he rocks his hips into you just because it feels too good to ever stop completely. Both of you are sparkling from head to toe, coated with the speckled dew of perspiration to match the absolute mess Simon has made between your legs. 
Smooth thighs glisten with that warm, moist, natural lubrication of your cunt as it dribbles out of you and onto the sheets beneath to leave a noticeable dark spot on the bed that’s still warm to the touch. Simon’s mouth waters as the taste buds along his tongue prick to life at the sight, begging to savor all your sweet nectar, but he tells himself to not get ahead of things. 
The rest of the night you are going to be his and he will get everything he wants of it all before the end.
Just like you, Simon is out of his goddamn mind with pleasure. The sensation consumes everything inside him until there is nothing left; the only way he can communicate is through breathy groans and staggered grunts as if he is only an animal now. He craves to be the blood in your veins, the air in your lungs, the only goddamn thing you need. And that is when he knows that he cannot hold off another second. 
Without warning he pulls out of you only briefly so that he can aggressively flip you over onto your back, getting into position by kneeling in front of you as he throws your legs onto his broad, sculpted shoulders before he grips your hips and instantly re-enters you. This is it, though he can’t barely speak, it’s gonna happen whether he is ready or not so he is going to be damned sure to make it go off with a fucking bang.
Again Simon picks up his desperate pace, his abs dripping with sweat as they contract and release after each desperate thrust. Those brown eyes close off to the rest of the world, just absorbing every last second of that mind-numbing goodness that he can before he blows.
“F-fuck, Simon...mmmm…” you whine your plea as you can feel that warmth rising harshly in the pit of your stomach, “p-please… d-d-don’t stop.”
Your mind is all static, so lost on Simon’s cock that you cannot stand it; it’s overwhelming in its intensity that you actually aren’t entirely sure you want to come yet. If you could just stay suspended in this moment forever, you’d die happy. All that edging has done its job just as intended though and with a few more strong thrusts of him deep in your core, that is it: like a hot flash of white light you squeal out in unsteady whimpers as your orgasm rips through you with such force you nearly bolt off the bed as your back arches and your hips buck harshly against him. 
A roar is released from within his chest, his body writhing as he holds on to your waist for dear life while he milks his cock inside you, coating your walls in his cum until he has no more left in him to give. He sounds like a wild animal and it makes your body vibrate with exhilaration; you are the one to make him come with such force he is reduced to more basic instincts. 
You fall back against the bed as your body shakes violently with the force of your orgasm. Never has such intense pleasure overwhelmed you so thoroughly that your limbs tremble uncontrollably before and though the exhaustion overtakes you, it is euphoric. Simon slowly slips himself out of your pussy as he sits back, his overstimulated cock twitching with sensitivity as he removes it from your tightness.
You whimper a little, instantly missing the feeling of him stretching you out and honestly wishing he would have just stayed inside even longer, but you know if you don’t have even a small break that you are not going to survive.
His strong hands hold your vibrating legs apart as he sits back on the mattress exhausted and a million miles away as he watches as his cum dribbles out of your pussy like honey; goddamn did he stuff you to the brim. All you can do is lay there with your eyes shut tight, heart thudding against your ribs as you focus all your remaining brain power on breathing. From your head to the tips of your toes you sparkle with perspiration as if you are decked out in diamonds that shimmer in the low light of the room.
“Christ Simon…gonna kill me,” you chuckle lightly as your mouth finally is able to do something other than hang open. 
Eyes still closed, the sensation of his lips brushing against your inner thigh catches your attention. “Not…yet,” his low, gruff voice hits your ears from between your legs, accent heavy with his fatigue. Why did that sound like a promise?
Your mouth is already forming the question when it instantly dies on your tongue as you become aware of a firm grip from those strong hands spreading your legs open even further as his body slides off the edge of the mattress and onto the floor to sit on his knees with his face at optimal level with your pussy.
“Simon?” you ask hastily as you struggle up to your elbow to see those dark eyes peer up at you just over the mound of your sex. 
The corner of his mouth is barely visible, but you can see it upturn. He may have come, but he is nowhere near finished yet. “Still fuckin’ hungry for ya,” he growls before descending down into the ecstasy of the space in between your thighs. 
Simon just needs to buy time until he can get it up again…good thing his tongue is always ready to go. Sharp features are instantly soaked as he dives in without hesitation, the scent of your arousal instantly clinging to his cheeks and making his cock begin to twitch. His mouth is filled with a combination of both of your flavors as his tongue does what it does best: find your clit like a pleasure-seeking missile. He is ready to get completely lost in you all over again, this time with his first favorite activity and all you can do is hold on as he straps you to his face.
Let the feast on your pussy continue…it’s gonna be a long fucking while until he’s done with you.
Tagging: @llelannie @thicksexxualtension @cheolsblkwife @cum-tea-and-towels @sillylittlereader @mesyakee
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copepods · 5 months
Text
🌇 factored-antagonism 🔁 three-pronged-spears Follow
🌫️ three-pronged-spears Follow
DNI if you support Peripherism. It's literally just Slab Mongering but worse and with less effort
#wait peripherism is still a thing?????? #meaning collector point inversions havent been the norm in like 350 years afaik
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💟 pleading-intellect
GUYSSSS my overseer found a clutch of baby green lizards today they're so CUTE
#inty.txt #and BEFORE anyone accuses me of not iterating im literally running 55,458 processes rn
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❇️ string-of-pearls 🔁 rippling-shadows Follow
👤 forspoken-antiquity Follow
hey FYI everyone if you receive an ask about transcendental inversions it's a troll. i've gotten 3 asks in the last cycle
#signal boost!!
2,347 notes
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🌁 nineteen-afterthoughts
"ohhh Triangulation is outdated" "ohhh Triangulators dont even factor noise milking into their research theyre a bunch of idiots" im literallu just a little guy im 4 feet tall why do you hate me
⬜️🔁 erratic-pulse
Irrelevant tangents and jokes don't help your case. Triangulationism is simply an objectively moronic take on an already superfluous train of thought. How are you supposed to find the Solution if you can't even properly look for it?
🌁🔁 nineteen-afterthoughts
you literally have Sliverist in your bio but go off
⬜️🔁 erratic-pulse
The minutiae of my theoretical inclinations are irrelevant. Your dogma is blatantly incorrect regardless.
🌁🔁 nineteen-afterthoughts
your group senior and i are raising a family together
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💽 slowly-advancing-mist
a band of scavengers literally just stole my last vat of holy ash thats it im seeking personal ascension
#vent #dont rb
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🚹 untoward-foresight Follow
Anyone else gotten really into Gold Hegemonic epic poetry recently? This one dude Eight Brass Whistles has a bunch of crazy quasi-Regeneratist stuff, it's actually really cool
🎹 east-facing-pillars
wasnt Eight Brass Whistles a heretic???? i heard he refused to shed the 3rd attachment or something like that
🚹 untoward-foresight Follow
Nah that callout post got debunked 533 cycles ago lol
🎹 east-facing-pillars
ahhh ok thanks for clarifying! ill let you know if i find anything :)
#thanks for being polite haha #lesson learned i gotta check this forum more LMAO
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⬜️ erratic-pulse
anonymous asked:
Transcendental Inversion! Transcendental Inversion!
Only someone with a fundamentally false understanding of inversion modes would send this. You can't even do such a thing without sufficient trailing bonds, which entropy renders impossible.
#Why do I always encounter idiots on this pseudonym?
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xxsabitoxx · 25 days
Text
Tutoring Session
College Math Tutor Sanemi x Female College Student Reader
Warnings: raw sex, edging, praising, hair pulling, creampies
A/N: hit me like a freight train, I’ve been dying to write this idea for literal months and I just couldn’t figure out who to write it about… obviously Sanemi was the clear choice. I blame @peachdues tbh
WORD COUNT: 2.5k | NOT MY ART!! Credit to the artist!! if anyone knows them please let me know so I can properly credit them!
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"There you go, that's right." Sanemi smiled as you solved the equation correctly, watching your hands tremble as you wrote the numbers. "Took you long enough, sweetheart." He added as you whined, the grip he had on your hair was the only thing really keeping your head from falling forward in frustration. "Let's try the next one."
All the while, the dull head of cock was gliding between slick folds. This was his idea of tutoring you, tormenting you with the promise of shoving his cock inside of you, but only after you finished your work. Sanemi had you stuck, literally and figuratively at this point.
Your knees were aching from where they were digging into the hardwood flooring of his apartment, and your body bent over his coffee table with all your math equations spread out before you. Nothing was on either of you from the waist down, Sanemi's knees keeping your legs from squeezing shut in protest."How would you solve this equation, sweetheart. Show me."
You let out a shrill whine as he caught on your entrance for what felt like the thousandth time that evening. You were soaking wet and he hadn't so much as pressed into you. Your hands trembled as you lifted your pencil again, reading over the numbers and letters with blurry vision as you tried to recall the first step.
One squeeze from his hand on your waist and you were focusing again, pushing the pencil to the paper as you wrote out your first line. Sanemi hummed in approval, pumping his cock slowly before sliding his leaking tip between your drenched folds.
If you got this one right, he'd get inside of you, you'd have to work through the rest as his hips slowly rocked in and out of you. It was his favorite part of tutoring you, he could edge you for hours on end but it didn’t compare to the warmth your cunt enveloped him in once he pushed inside. It was addicting, he’d never stop tutoring you just for this reason. 
“You have to carry that one over, remember?” he hummed as he looked over your shoulder, watching your handwriting get increasingly sloppier as you erased your first mistake. Sanemi’s eyes glanced over the other sheets of paper, you had started off so strong, then you could see exactly when he got you into this position, the shakiness of your hand was present. 
“You better hurry, it's getting harder to not push right in.” He grinned, tugging your hair just a little harder as you whimpered. The head of his cock had caught on your entrance again, but this time he kept it in place. He could feel you constricting, clenching around nothing at all and begging to suck him into the wet warmth of your sex. “S-Sanemi… sir please…” 
Your voice came out in a broken hiccup, making his cock twitch in interest as you moved down the line of your equation. “You know the rules, sweetheart. You don’t get my cock until I’m satisfied with the amount of work you successfully completed.” His knees were aching too, but he could withstand it just to see you struggle. Your hair was soft in his grasp, but the mewls you made were even softer when he tugged on the strands. 
You felt tears burning your eyes, frustration towards math mixing with the frustration of not being able to alleviate the ache between your sticky thighs. Within an hour of his tutoring, Sanemi had rendered you to an embarrassing, sticky mess. Your slick was covering his thighs as well as his pubic bone, and of course his cock. “Carry that one.” 
Shakily, you erased, whining as you corrected your mistake. “Don’t move your hips or I’ll return to grinding my cock against you.” You stilled, you hadn’t even realized you were trying to force your hips back on his length. “I’m…mmm I’m s-sorry sir.” You hiccupped, you could feel your heartbeat in your clit at this point, and it was driving you insane.  “Don’t apologize, solve the problem.” 
You focused to the best of your abilities again, tears leaking down your cheeks and spotting the paper below you as the pressure built. Between the ache between your legs and the pressure of his dull cock head pressing into your awaiting entrance, you were certain you would crack under his gaze. You could feel it burning just over your shoulder, certain it was accompanied by rosy cheeks and fucked out eyes, making even swollen lips from where he chewed them. 
Your entire body jerked forward, head nearly falling forward along with it before Sanemi tugged again. “Keep your mind out of the gutter, sweetheart.” Your face was burning, he was one to talk considering the position he had you in right now.
“You are two lines away from getting my cock shoved in you, I’d smarten up and focus.” Your heart lurched, the promise in his tone was undeniable. Solve this equation and you’d get what you wanted. 
You scribbled the next line, earning a hum of approval from Sanemi as you moved to piece everything together and solve the equation. You waited with bated breath, looking everything over to confirm you were correct before shakily writing your answer.
After a beat of silence, Sanemi thrusted his hips forward, plunging his cock deep into your cunt. A loud cry of his name left your lips followed by a string of curses. The sting of being stretched so suddenly had you shivering, your pencil dropping from your hand as you tried to ground yourself. 
“Atta girl, you take me so–ha–so good.” Your cunt was fluttering around him, your hips trying to pull away just enough to ease the pressure on your cervix. The room was filled with your breathing before Sanemi finally panted “next”. You wanted to cry, frustrated and in need of relief and yet you were being forced to start your next round equations. “S-sanemi please…” 
“You heard me, sweetheart. Start the next problem.” He had regained a little bit of composure, pressing his hips flush against your own as he maneuvered his body lower. You could feel the heat radiating off of him as his front met your back, and yet again you were trying to run away from the one thing you had been begging for. “Turn the page over, we have four more to do.” His breath was hot against your ear, causing your body to involuntary shudder in response. 
You did as you were told, inhaling deeply as he returned to his original position. Once the paper was flipped and your pencil was back in your hand, Sanemi let go of the grip he had on your hair so both hands could hold your waist. He didn’t care if you struggled now, if anything he wanted to see you visibly falling apart.
You started slowly, moaning softly as Sanemi pulled out half way before slamming into you again. This paper would be a damn mess by the time you were done. That was Sanemi’s intention, after all, he liked to keep your ruined sheets of math as a reward once he was done. Your body shook with the force of his hips slamming into your own, the pencil dragging across the paper in sloppy mess as you began solving the next equation. 
“Oh fuck… fuck… fuck fuck…” You cried, pencil nearly ripping the paper as Sanemi’s hips rolled perfectly into you. The bulbous head of his cock grazed that one particular spot perfectly, making your back arch in response to the sensation. “Focus.” But his tone was hoarse, weak even as your slick arousal began to collect around the base of his cock. It's not like he could even focus on the math, eyes zeroing in on where your cunt sucked him in. 
“Solve this one right and I’ll fill you up, you’d love that wouldn’t ya?” You nodded, blabbering out a yes as your hand shakily wrote two more numbers in the first line of the problem. You weren’t going to get that far, but you’d damn near try your hardest. Sanemi’s hips were picking up their pace, falling into a brutal rhythm that was making it hard for you to properly see the numbers on your paper. The coffee table was creaking in protest with each snap of his hips. 
It was dizzying, feeling him split you open over and over as your velvety walls tried to clamp down and slow his speed. You were soaking wet, a warm gush of your arousal causing slick squelching noises to fill the small living room. “Finish the first line, sweetheart.” He could feel the sweat beading down his temple, as much as he loved to tease you, your cunt was almost too overwhelming for him.
He could fight off his inevitable release for a little while, but at the pace in which you were writing the problem out, he was certain he’d lose the battle. You were shaking as you finished the first line, eyes blurry as you tried to move the equation through your mind. You were too far gone already, cheeks burning hot as drool slipped past your parted lips. You could feel the embarrassment pushing you down, head falling forward now that Sanemi didn’t have a fistful of your hair to keep you upright. 
“C’mon, Sweet–ha–heart fucking finish the problem.'' The last half came out in a low and desperate tone, you could feel Sanemi’s cock twitching violently as it embedded itself in your velvety heat. “I-I’m trying…” you pleaded softly, tears flowing freely as you lifted your head. “I.. you’re too rough… oh fuck sir, don't stop.” you mewled, back arching as your hips shot back to meet his thrusts. Sanemi couldn’t say no to that, not when you were suffocating him. 
“Finish.” he restated, nails digging into the plush skin of your hips as his brows creased. He would have to pound some fucking sense into you… or maybe himself. Your pencil was scraping against the paper again as you worked through the equation, at this point Sanemi didn’t even care if you fucked it up and got the answer wrong, he just wanted to see a final result. 
Though, that suddenly wasn’t enough for him anymore.
A spike of arousal had one hand leaving your hips just to sneak around your front and find your clit. A sharp gasp tore from your mouth as white hot pleasure blurred your vision once more. Your neglected clit was far too sensitive for the immediate fast and rough circles Sanemi’s fingers were giving you. That and the fact that his hands were calloused, rougher than your own and creating more friction than you ever could.
“Oh fuck… I’m gonna…” you choked on your own words, the pencil led snapping as the heat in your abdomen grew hotter. Your release was sneaking up on you thanks to the addition of his fingers. “You’re already gonna cum?” Sanemi’s tone was mocking, as if his own cock wasn’t swelling with his own impending release. You let out a garbled response that sounded somewhat similar to a “yes”, no longer able to write now that your pencil had broken. 
Sanemi noticed, of course, his ego inflating like a balloon as he looked at the ruined paper and the ruined pencil. “You’re lucky that didn’t…” he inhaled, jaw clenching as he tried to stave off his release for a little longer. “You’re lucky you didn’t snap the whole pencil.” You just shook your head, cheek turning to press against the paper covered table. Your hands twitched as they found the edge, grabbing on tightly to try and ground yourself once more. 
“Don’t hold out on me, sweetheart… you’ll still get my cum for trying.” A loud whimper followed his promise, no longer able to control the noises you made as Sanemi’s hips continued to piston into your sopping cunt. It hit you then, your orgasm just barely teetering over the edge as you babbled out a jumble of curses and pleas to stop. Not that you actually wanted him too, Sanemi had learned that your cries only meant you were getting overwhelmed in the best way possible. 
“Come for me, sweetheart. Ruin me.” 
You could feel the cord snap, your orgasm washing over you as his hips and fingers never faltered. You were positive you moaned his name a little louder than you wanted to, unable to help it as your ears rang from the intensity. Sanemi’s teeth sunk into his lower lip hard enough to nearly draw blood. Your cunt was quivering around him, suffocatingly tight as a warm gush of your arousal dripped down your thighs. The sight was unbearably hot, and just enough to push him over the edge with you. 
You shivered as he came, spraying your walls with his sticky release. “Oh fuck.” It was just barely audible over the sound of your heart pounding in your ears. Sanemi was tense, too tense to acknowledge the marks he was leaving on your hips as his nails dug into your skin. It wasn’t until his hips came to a stuttering halt, burying deep inside your cunt that he was able to suck air into his lungs again and loosen his grip. “Y-you okay?” 
You hummed, too tired to lift yourself off of the table. “Words, sweetheart.” Sanemi was never content with your little noises after the fact. He needed the verbal affirmation that you were okay and he wasn’t too rough. “...’m good.” You heard him exhale through his nose, something similar to a humorless laugh. “C’mon, let me clean you up.” the feeling of his softening cock slipping out of you made you both shiver, his sticky release following. 
He watched your hips squirm, you were never fond of the feeling. “Sorry, sweetheart.” but again, you mumbled out an “...’s okay”. He had worn you out, there was no way he would be able to finish your lesson tonight. “How about a shower instead of a rag?” His fingers were running along your slick thighs as he spoke, carefully dragging your mixing arousal back up to your entrance and using two fingers to shove it back inside.
“You’ll have tah carry me.” you mumbled, pushing yourself up halfheartedly, your cheeks stained with drying tears. “Fine by me, it’s the least I can do.” Sanemi smiled, carefully moving to pull you into a sitting position and get your weight off of your bruising knees. “You wouldn’t mind if I stayed the night, would ya?” You nearly collapsed into him, turning weakly into his embrace so he could get you both off the ground. 
“You’re always welcome, Sanemi. I still have some of your clothes in my dresser.” He chuckled at that, hauling you up bridal style as he made his way towards your bathroom “I might as well move in at this point, hmm?” this time you were the one starting to laugh. “You practically live here already, Sanemi. Why don’t we make it official?” If he knew it would have been that easy, he would have made the comment weeks ago. “I’d like that.” 
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sserpente · 29 days
Text
Magic Hands
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Synopsis: Astarion teaches you how to use a dagger in battle. The sweaty training calls for a bath in the nearby river afterward and you can’t help but admire the vampire rogue in the pale moonlight, surrounded by the glistening water surface. He seems… tense. Perhaps you can repay him by giving him a gentle massage?
A/N: Why did this take me so long to write, oh my gods! :D
Words: 2038 Warnings: smut, mentions of sexual trauma
Your battle cry echoed across the entire campsite when you plunged your blade forward. Lae’zel’s makeshift mind flayer dummy was rendered with holes at this point, oozing hey from several rips in the old fabric she had used to craft it.
The impact had you sway to one side and you shifted your weight, your left arm flailing about clumsily.
“Good. Now try that again without losing your balance.”
You grunted, shooting him an angry glance. He had his sleeves rolled up, and his arms crossed before his chest. It was almost distracting. Almost.
You had been at it for hours. Granted, it had been your idea—if you were going to survive this involuntary adventure, you might as well learn how to defend yourself. You were surprised you’d even made it this far. And, since attacking from the shadows was much more your cup of tea than storming headfirst into battle like Wyll or Lae’zel, you’d kindly asked Astarion to help you out.
He was a tough and strict teacher, you had to give him that. But you were making quick progress too. Before today, you hadn’t even been able to hold a dagger properly.
You withdrew your weapon and returned to your original position.
“Ah-ah-ah. No, darling. What did we just learn?” His teasing voice went down like butter. That was even more distracting.
Astarion pointed at your left foot. You shifted in the dirt, creating a grovelling noise.
“There we go. Now try again.”
You did as you were told, lunging at the dummy once more. Astarion tutted at you when you lost your balance yet again.
“Hey, don’t tut me!”
“I see where the problem lies now. Go on. Get back in position.”
Grunting once more, you obeyed. What you were not prepared for, however, was that he would step right behind you and place his hands on your stomach and waist. You sucked in a deep breath, tensing up.
“Keep tension here. You’ll want to make sure that lovely core of yours keeps you on your feet.”
Memories from your night in the woods came flooding back, sending you down a spiral of pleasure and arousal. You cleared your throat.
“Okay. I got it. I think.”
The sensation of loss was nearly overwhelming when he let go again. You could have sworn you saw him smirk from the corner of your eye.
You got into position again, took a deep breath, and… struck.
“Good girl.” You would have dropped the dagger had it not been lodged deeply within the mindflayer dummy. “Again.”
Again. Again and again and again until Astarion was certain you got the hang of it. Your arms were burning by the time he clapped and finally let you off the hook for the day.
“Be honest, you’re enjoying this a little.”
The vampire smirked. “More than just a little, darling.”
Heat crept up your cheeks, forcing you to bite your lower lip. “Whatever. I should get washed.”
“Hmm, so should I.”
You offered him a smile. Making your way toward the lake, you walked past Lae’zel who was sharpening her sword, Karlach who was dancing to a song only audible to her, and Gale practicing little magic tricks. Wyll and Halsin were with Shadowheart, talking and drinking by the fireplace.
You sighed. It could have been peaceful if it wasn’t for the imminent threat of a tadpole turning you all into thralls.
Once you reached the shore, there was no hesitation in your movements. You stripped off your clothes, knowing the bushes would hide you from unwanted eyes. As for Astarion… well… there was nothing he hadn’t seen before.
The vampire followed suit though you did notice that he avoided your gaze as he undressed. You couldn’t help but watch him regardless as he waded into the water until he was submerged hip-deep.
“You look really fine in the moonlight, you know that?” you said, joining him swiftly.
“Of course I do, I’m a vampire, darling.” He swam closer to you, allowing you to wrap your entire body around him. Astarion’s hands found your behind, squeezing gently.
“That’s not what I meant,” you whispered. His lips were cold when you met them with yours, a playful kiss soon turning into a passionate display of affection.
By the time you finally broke apart panting, Astarion rolled his shoulders with a groan.
“Is everything alright? You seem even tenser than me.”
“Oh well, it can’t be helped. Must be the weight of being a hero on my shoulders,” he spat with dismay. Oh yeah… he’d made it clear his interest in saving the refugees was ridiculously small. You had your theories on that… yet there was no way in the hells Astarion was a terrible person but rather… a person terrible things had happened to. The scars on his back spoke for themselves.
“I could help with that if you want,” you said before you could stop yourself.
“Help? How?”
“This is gonna sound silly but I used to work as a massage therapist for a few years, back in Baldur’s Gate, I mean. I have magic hands. I know a lot of techniques to relieve back pain and back tension…” You trailed off, studying his reaction.
“Magic hands?”
Astarion narrowed his eyes at you and somehow, you knew exactly what was going on in his mind. Relieving a different kind of tension at your celebration with the Tieflings was one thing… having someone work his back and stroke every inch of exposed skin with skilled hands, right over the scars that had brought him so much torment… that was another.
“You want to… well… I…”
“If you want to?”
“Well… I suppose…”
You tilted your head. He wanted to accept, you could tell. But was that… concern glistening in his red eyes?
“You know, I’m, uh… I’m not offering this to have sex with you again. I mean… I really, really enjoyed myself, Astarion but… I honestly feel like that’s the reason you’re being wary, isn’t it? Along with me, um… touching your scars.”
His lips parted.
“I just want to help. And only if you’ll let me.”
“Alright… fine.”
You nodded, the tension you didn’t realise had been building up inside of you leaving your body.
“Then come find me in my tent later.”
You left him some privacy after your swim, returning to your makeshift home to find anything you could use as a massage oil. You settled for an ointment in the end, one that Halsin usually used to treat wounds. It would do. You could hardly use a bottle of grease after all.
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You were rather certain Astarion waited until the others were asleep on purpose. When he parted the fabric of your makeshift door and crouched down a little to come inside, you patted your bedroll and smiled at him.
His coyness was adorable. While before his heart-breaking confession, every single word that had left his lips was a flirt, he was but a frightened young man now, intimidated by intimacy.
“Lie down, my love. And… Astarion?”
His red eyes met yours as he followed your request and removed his shirt, once again revealing those horrifying scars to you.
“You need to stop me if you’re feeling uncomfortable, alright?”
The vampire spawn smirked. “How could I possibly feel uncomfortable with your skilled hands dancing over my body, pet?”
“You know what I mean.” You grinned, relieved that his smarm was not lost on him.
“Of course.”
“Now lie down on your belly and close your eyes.”
Astarion sighed and did as he was told. You straddled him, trifling some of the oil on your hands and rubbing them together before eventually… placing your palms on his bare back.
Your fingers glided over the ridges of his scars, your thumbs digging into the muscles, looking for any tension. You found it all too quickly, working knot after knot out of his tormented back.
Soon enough, he relaxed. His sigh was so innocent you couldn’t help but lean forward and place a gentle kiss between his shoulder blades.
You pampered him for a while, making sure to massage each and every spot on his back. You did not fail to miss the faint moan when you asked him to turn over so you could work on the rest of his body. Gods, you were enjoying this even more than he was.
Astarion’s gaze was filled with repose and… hunger. And when your eyes travelled further down, your lips parted and you realised why.
He was hard.
“Do you… do you want me to stop?”
“Don’t… you… dare…” he muttered, eyes half-closed still.
You bit your lower lip, oily hands gliding over his chest. It wasn’t just him. You were as wet as the river you’d bathed in just a few hours back and now that you were aware just how much your sensual treatment affected him, the arousal was nearly unbearable.
Breathing heavily, you swallowed and paused.
“How about… I have an idea.”
He sat up a little, propping himself on his elbows. “Oh?”
His sly smirk caught you entirely off guard though you were unsure whether he was merely trying to hide his insecurity behind it. He’d told you he didn’t want you to think of him in terms of sex for now and you would respect that wish. There was no need for you to act on your own excitement even if it drove you insane. But if he let you… you wanted to make him feel good so badly that it almost caused you physical discomfort.
“I could… take care of… that,” you muttered, pointing at the growing bulge in his trousers.
Astarion raised his eyebrows, passion glistening in those red eyes.
“Let me pamper you. No sex. I might as well give you a… full body massage at this point. And if it gets too much, you stop me.”
“We… we could try.” He nodded, lying back down but keeping his eyes wide open as you opened his trousers with gentle movements and pulled his erection free.
Astarion flinched when your oily hand wrapped around his hardening length, fingertips teasing him tenderly.
“Okay?”
He nodded.
“I need you to tell me with words, my love.”
Astarion cleared his throat. “Okay. That feels… nice.”
One thing you realised very quickly was that he had never experienced anything like this before. Someone who wished for nothing more than to bring him pleasure, to make him feel good, without expecting anything in return. To give him back his sensuality where only he and his well-being mattered without his body being sexualised or objectified…
It must have been such a novel concept to him… biting your lower lip, you began to stroke him with firm yet tender touches, your thumb gliding over his slit and rubbing over his tip.
He squirmed, bucking his hips in response with a quiet moan. It was enough of a reaction to urge you on, your movements quickening and adapting to his rapid breathing.
You paused when he uttered your name with a start.
“No… no, don’t stop, my love… don’t you dare stop…”
So you kept going, driving him to the edge with hungry ferocity. Gods, he looked so delicious. So carefree and innocent all because of you…
“I… I… I will…”
Astarion thrust up into your hands, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. Pleasure flushed his entire face, his lips parting. He tensed up, his thighs shaking and his fingers clutching at the soft material of your bedroll. He came all over your hands and knuckles, ropes of seed clear evidence of his release. You helped him ride it out, squeezing every last drop from his pretty cock until he was spent and panting, his body relaxing again bit by bit.
“You look so beautiful when you come undone…” you whispered, wiping your hands on some rags you kept nearby.
He chuckled. “And you do have magic hands. I might have to ask you to do that again soon.”
You smiled, cuddling up to him with a smile. Neither of you bothered to get undressed completely. You were perfectly fine with falling asleep like this.
“Anytime, Astarion. Always.”
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