#circular void

[bookinit02]

it is so dire

[noknowshame]

[eldritchqueerture]

🫥🫥🫥

[laufire]

I'm trying to formulate a more coherent post about it, but I'm sleepy and it's just not clicking. the tl;dr would be that for all that I do think that it's good and even necessary to read theory from those with opposing values (tradcons, capitalists, nazis, and so on, in my case) and to pay attention to what they think and do and why, I resent and vehemently disagree with anyone who even implies there's something virtuous about tolerating their presence in your intimate, personal life, or that debating them until you drop trying to change their mind and entertaining their views first-hand might enrich or enlighten you as a person or whatever. I grew up in a tiny little town surrounded by conservatives and debating proto-skinheads in my classroom, and then I got my degree on the most leftist faculty of my country. I know very well which of those environments was more ~enriching. limiting my knowledge of conservatives & their ilk to an analysis from afar is just not feasible with the life I'm leading rn, or the one I intend to lead in the near future, but I know for a fact that a.) it would not detract from me as a political actor and b.) it would definitely make me a happier person xDD

[valdomarx]

the 5 + Nyssa audios are great because the doctor gets to run around being flippant and making friends while Nyssa does all the science and tech babble and actually fixes things

and it's all fun and games until you get to Circular Time and you have a small existential crisis because what is a life, truly, if not the passing of the seasons? because you can never go back, nor recapture the past, and you can never really be who you were before. whether you are ready or not, life moves onward, and the best you can do is to let it carry you with it and to find what joy and meaning where you can.

[cursedthing]

stares at the floor. i have no idea what animal my fursona would be and that's slowly making be. what's the word. not evaporate but like turn into dust with frustrated intent

[amerasdreams]

you cannot expect empathy from anyone (nor should you) you can't control others you can control yourself (to an extent)

[k0yaz]

(I don't do requests often, so I read your rules like three times out of nervousness 😭)

Could you write an Il Capitano x fem!reader where the reader is forced to walk home by her family after a ball. While walking back, Capitano picks her up and offers to take the reader to where she lives. Maybe toss in some soft/kind Capitano?

Thank you so much, I hope this is an ok request!

pitch black.

Pairings: capitano x fem!reader

CW: sfw, female reader, assy family members, written before natlan, so capitano might be slightly ooc, can be read as platonic or romantic, yum frostbite yay, ngl id cry myself to sleep if I was in snezhnaya bc I can’t handle cold weather, probably an iron deficiency, lazy writing at the end again AUUUUGHHHH, freakytano my glorious king, not proofread.

A/N: HIHIHIHI ALSO IM SORRY IF I MISREAD THE FAMILY THING BUTTTT I ACTUALLY WROTE ON A WEEKDAY YAY also guys should I do like a special for 1k cause my followers are eating rn ok but seriously thank u so much for all the support love yall!! 🕯️

Cold swishes of air circled the pitch black sky faintly illuminated by a star or two, ruffling the silky fluff of a heavy coat adorning your figure. You firmly tightened your grasp around the lapels of the large coat, fabric wrinkling and dragged between the clutches of your paling knuckles tinted a soft pink from Snezhnaya’s biting cold.

Hollow crunches of your footsteps simply rang aloud in your years as your father’s words piled up in your mind. They were merely harmless, yet the intent behind your family’s dismissal stung like a sharpened blade spearing into your chest. But of course, it wasn’t anything new. A gust of wind howled into the canal of your ear sharply, ringing the ill memory of your family spitting the venom laced words of ordering you to trudge home in the nation’s burrowing winter. They didn’t even bother to provide a coat or furnish your body in any way, simply shooing you off as if they were desperate to make you keep your distance from them.

You had been awkwardly situated next to them, the chatter making you shift uncomfortably in an off putting stance, similar to that of an upright statue. Their exasperating laughs bellowed throughout the ballroom obnoxiously, catching an occasional glance of a person or two eyeing them. If hunching your shoulders in embarrassment wasn’t enough, their attitude was more than enough for you to have a strong urge to pray for the Tsaritsa’s wrath to be bestowed upon them.

People had noticed your huddled stance, tracing the rim of your glass in circular motions in hopes to distract yourself from the growing oddity of your placement in the ball. And without hesitation, they would of course begin to approach you. Possibly out of pity? Perhaps even the goodness of their heart wanting to accompany the girl who wasn’t very engaged in the celebration. Each person would approach you, friendly smiles stretching their face as they’d attempt to greet you—only for it to be cut short by your parents’ attention snapping to the guest stood before you, slicing the conversation short as they’d beckon the person to come speak with them instead.

Tremors of disdain pooled inside of you upon seeing your family members so obviously attempt to shove out any possible chance of a trail of hopeful socialization paved on your direction. Your isolation only grew more and more frustrating as indistinct chatter bounced off the walls of the ball, your eyes following the sound of the echo trailing from the marble structure to the intricate chandelier and candles flickering. At this moment, you purely felt alone. Isolated from everything as you mentally stood still in a pitch black void, with drowned out voices clouding the lonesome darkness.

“(Name). I think it’s about time you headed home.” Your father rasped out, not even making eye contact with you as his gaze was locked onto the champagne bottle and glass snug between his hands. “The ball is over anyway. We’re only staying for extra drinks. Your mother and I will be out meeting some other relatives at the nearby restaurant.”

“Father, it’s too cold for me to walk back home. You know how-“

“Oh, (Name). You’ll be fine. I raised you to be an independent woman. You’ll find the way home just fine.”

Pushing past your father, your mother pokes her shoulder out as well, casting you a glance as she chimes in to the conversation.

“He’s right, dear. Go ahead and head home for the night. I trust you’ll fare just fine without us accompanying you home.”

“Mother, that’s not what I-“

“(Name). That’s enough. You should head home. End of discussion.”

You knew you couldn’t properly explain to them. They’d always toss you aside and swat off your remarks as such. You bit back your protest, swallowing as you scanned the ballroom for a spare coat anywhere. There were a few harbingers around, so a raggedy stray coat shouldn’t be too uncommon.

“Sorry. I’ll be heading home now.” You submitted under your breath, masking your mixed irritation dissolved into your tone. You only further grimaced slightly as your mother smiled and leaned over to place a faux affectionate kiss to your forehead. With one dismissive wave once more, her and your father turned their back to you to exit the ball, shouldering through the heavy spruce doors packed with people crowding them.

You blinked, fervent shivers making you tremble against each flake of snow that brushed along the exposed parts of your skin as you realized you had just stepped midway through. The searing cold made your head spin as you began to lose yourself, frostbite clouding your senses and enveloping the tips of your fingers slowly. No matter. You could make it home if you simply stopped spacing out and thinking about your shitty parents. Just then, a loud crunch resounded with the howling wind, heavy clanks of metal being heard in addition to the crunches.

The heavy thuds only seemed to become clearer as they grew closer and closer, a light drag of chains shuffling behind you as well. Your heart nearly pounded out of your chest in anticipation, a sense of apprehension overtaking you as you clutched the coat draped over you tighter in a pathetic attempt to shield yourself using the thick fabrics. The thuds came to a halt as your eyes slowly roamed over the man who halted before you. His figure loomed over you, as his towering frame was quite intimidating to the least.

The metal lining of his mask enshrouded his face in a sightless black, cloaking his face completely as it seemed like an empty void bore into the gap of his helmet. Streams of jet black hair along with that adorned along the cheekbone of his mask and down his shoulders, a few stray strands of his long hair edged along the sharp steel edges of his mask. On top of that. A thick white coat with black fluff was draped along his shoulders, the small fabric emblem in the corner pertaining to that of the Fatui. If he was wearing this coat, your best bet was he was definitely a Fatui harbinger. Likely a strong one at that.

Backing up slightly, your eyes wandered over the man’s figure as you stood neatly frozen in place, the wind swaying his streaming hair while the harbinger looked down upon you.

“Is something the matter, ma’am?”

His low voice cast the illusion of protruding through the thickened frozen air, a faint muffle present in his speech considering he had spoken through the hollow opening of his seemingly endless mask.

“I was just walking home..”

“You seemed to be troubled, though.”

You simply wanted to scoff, yet you only tilted your head away from the harbinger in shame. Had your family humiliated you this much to the point where a figure of such high status took pity on you?

Sucking in a breath, you slowly turned your head back towards him, his body frozen in place, and looking down at you like a great statue. His gaze remained locked on you—yet you couldn’t tell due to the hollow blackness pitched into the carving of his mask. “Your name?” He hummed lowly, his body still enveloped by his large coat, and arms hidden under the sides of the thick pale silk.

“(Name).” You replied bluntly, clearing your throat and lowering your voice almost immediately after as to not give a rude impression. “Yours?”

“Il Capitano.”

Capitano seemed to follow your lingering gaze as he spoke, tracing each spot your eyes transfixed on periodically. However, there was one particular spot you couldn’t take your eyes off, and he didn’t take long to notice you focused on the Fatui emblem at the corner of his harbinger coat. “First of the Fatui harbingers.” He added, sensing that you had been wondering his relation to the infamous organization serving under the Cryo Archon dispersed across Teyvat.

Sensing your evident shifts and subtle kicks of your feet, he didn’t take long to pick up on your troubled state fidgeting before him, as if you were afraid of a train of emotional danger clouding your judgement to even think properly—much less walk in such bitter conditions.

“Where are you off to so late, miss (Name)?”

“I’m just walking home…it’s important family business.”

You immediately added that last part as an audible afterthought, not wanting to involve a harbinger in your personal affairs. Capitano wasn’t stupid, however. The clouds of tension and fear were palpable amidst the indifferent expression of yours, flaked white from the occasional crystals of snow fluttering onto your face. Heavy clanks followed your words as he stepped forward carefully, not wanting to startle you as he made his way directly beside you.

The black fur lining the neckline of his coat brushed against your collarbone as he stood closely shoulder to shoulder with you, head kept high. He continued to stare off into the distance ahead of him, as if the burrowing fog wasn’t enshrouding the entire vicinity before the two of you and dimming your line of sight.

“Do you mind if I accompany you home?”

You blinked out of pure surprise. A harbinger? Walking you home? At first it was too much, you couldn’t possibly accept this, much less waste his time like this! However the chilling thought of walking alone at night so late sent a shiver down your spine, and it was definitely not just from the cold.

“Not at all, Sir Capitano.”

He shook his head, stepping forward as he beckoned you to catch up to him.

“No need for formalities. Just Capitano is fine.”

Nodding, you briskly walked beside him to match his pace. The two of you were purely silent as he walked into the swirls of fog patterned along the vicinity clouding the array of homes lined up on either side of the street. Shuffles of chains and howls of wind were the only noticeable sound echoing along the empty night roads, inducing a rush of calmness that replaced your previous anxious state. Halfway through, you proceeded to extend your arm out, pointer finger fixing ahead of you at a slight angle.

“My home should be around there.”

Capitano simply nodded, shifting his path in the direction of your finger’s aim as he slowly headed toward the squeezed space of homes cluttered along the sides. Once reaching your doorstep, he halted at the hardened spruce topped with a silver knocker situated above the center, as if he was awaiting your next words. You delivered him a sincere and thoughtful smile, folding your arms as you didn’t know what exactly to do with them. The freezing steel of the knocker uncomfortably brushed along the exposed skin of your shoulder, which was not effectively covered by the ragged coat, making you hunch over upon contact embarrassingly.

“Thank you, Capitano. I don’t think I could have reached home quick enough before passing out on the streets..”

He let out an affirmative hum once more, looking down at you through his helmet framed by his long hair which was now a bit unkempt from the winds mixed with the fog. But it was only a strand or two off anyway.

“The pleasure is all mine, Miss (Name).” He paused briefly, before adding once more. “If you’re in any trouble that requires my assistance, don’t feel afraid to call me.” His words were sweet, yet they made you laugh faintly, making you biting your tongue at his low tone questioning what was so humorous about his statement.

“Ah. It’s nothing, Capitano. It’s just…we met under a few hours ago..”

“It’s not the time we knew each other that’s the matter. Rather, it’s the fact that it’s obvious you’re clearly going through something, (Name). I don’t mean to pry, I just want to do what is just for you. And I can tell you’re a good person.”

His words only brought that faint elated smile back onto your face, an unexplainable disappointment drooping within you when he steps away from the door to head back. You wave to him, and he gives a quick nod, turning his back to you and heading back to god knows where. That smile remained on your lips for quite a bit, even when you rocked open the door slowly into the comfort and warmth of your home.

What a respectable and kind man.

A/N: it’s 1 am and I have a quiz tomorrow morning LOLLL

Anyway I’m so happy I got this done yay

[acapelladitty]

bereft of grace

Summary: Defeated by Messmer, you find that his plans for you, a mongrel tarnished, are far different than what you might expect.

(tw: non-con, humiliation, forced stripping, restraints, mild tit torment, rough sex, size difference, stretching, vaginal fingering, creampie, overstimulation, pain)

Fic Masterlist

Link to AO3

You feel the infernal chill of his helm pressing against the side of your face as he lowers his head to your own. His words, soft-spoken and laced with cruelty, brush across your ears as your naked back remains pinned to his chest - restrained by both the strength of his arm pulling tightly across your stomach and the unshakeable wrap of the snakes which lace across your wrists to keep your hands useless and pinned against your sides.

"Mongrel tarnished." He growls the words like a slur, silken hatred pairing with the predatory knowledge that you were truly helpless in his arms. "Thy kind are good for naught."

A serpentine tongue slips free of his lips to stroke a languid line across your neck, tasting the sweat of your battle and the fear that had long since laced your skin since he had deprived you of your torn clothing; the shredded materials laying in a discarded pile below your suspended frame. His tongue is warm, wet and the sensation of it brushing along the sensitive skin of your throat is as arousing as it is repulsive.

"Stripped of gold."

Thin fingers force their way between your legs, widening your thighs as they push at and grope the skin there so roughly that you know small, circular bruises will be left in their wake. His hand slides further, your breath hitching with despair as he presses against your most private flesh; lengthy digits stroking along your slit to test the skin there as they tease your slightly-wet hole before slipping up to graze across the ultra-sensitive nub of your clit.

"Stripped of grace."

Gasping as he pushes two of his fingers within you with little preamble, the sudden stretch of the intrusion burns like hellfire and you cry out as he starts to pump them inside your walls. Your body responds despite itself, his long digits stroking areas which were quick to ignite a warmth in your cunt that made your brain feel fuzzy despite the hollowing discomfort.

"Stripped even of thy paltry linens."

The heat is oppressive, the flames which he was able to conjure in an instant making his body feel like a furnace where it touches your own - even through his armour - and it pairs with the shameful warmth which rolls from your own body as you find yourself pressing down into his hand like a bitch in heat.

As soon as he had robbed you of your weapon, you assumed death was to swiftly follow and a genuine fear of being impaled like so many of the corpses which littered the road to the Shadow Keep immediately made you compliant to his commands. You had dropped to the floor and awaited a swift death which was not to come as his hand had stayed, something almost like amusement playing in his drawn face as he noted the instant submission and ordered you to approach him.

He had ripped your clothing from you, tearing it with a demigods strength as you shivered and ignored the hot shame which paired with the fear in your heart. His snakes followed their masters will without verbal instruction, the infernal heat of them as they slid across your skin making you gasp as forked tongues tasted their way across your shuddering frame to lock your hands in place.

After that, it didn't take long for Messmer to make his move. His gaze, split between hues of gold and the abyssal void, had taken its time in your appraisal - peering into your anguish and fear-laced expression before roving across your ample breasts and lower half. A rail-thin hand had struck like one of his many serpents, harshly gripping at your upper arm to spin you in place and allowing him to scoop you close as inhumane strength lifted you from the floor as though you weighed nothing.

Nothing in the face of a demigod.

Thoughts snapping back into the moment as a third finger breaches your hole, a pained howl slips free of your lips as you writhe in place - attempting to pull away from the pleasurable pain with a futile struggle. Sex and bodily pleasure wasn't unknown to you, but the sheer power which rolled from the demigod who seemed determined to amuse himself with your flesh made it difficult to focus on anything outside of the humid air and the sensations he was forcing upon you.

"Thy kind are fit for use as a fleshly pleasure. No more. Strip all thoughts of lordship from thy desires before my hand is pushed to strip thy skin from such soft flesh."

Fresh snakes slither across your chest, the thin bodies wrapping around the globes of your breasts and tightenening to the point of true discomfort - the rope-like restraints making a wicked pressure quickly build up in your abused chest. Sinking their fangs into the sensitive skin just below your chest, the snakes showed no sign of letting up their firm hold and you almost sob with relief as Messmer's thick fingers pull free of your cunt.

It's a short-lived peace though, as his slickened fingers are quick to establish how tight the hold his snakes have achieved and a guttural cry breaks free of your throat as his large hands move to pinch at your chest roughly. Nipples perked due to the pressure and arousal which is rolling through your stimulated frame, he's careful to snatch the sensitive nubs between his fingers, one at time, until fresh tears spring into your eyes and your back arches violently into his chest while your lips form a constant stream of pleas and whines.

"For one so cursed and devoid of all, thy voice is surprisingly sweet." And although you cannot see his face, you can hear the predatory arousal which accompanies the words.

He was enjoying himself, attempting to force you to do the same.

"You are the cursed one."

Finding your voice, you yelp out the words like an accusation - arousal, shame, and mild horror sparking a momentary boldness which you immediately regret as his body stiffens and a sharp chill replaces the cruel warmth of his earlier tones.

"True, little tarnished. My curse is borne in the void of the abyssal serpent. Naught more than a monster, I will force thee to embrace thy oblivion and know such suffering."

Something blunted presses against your hole and your panicked struggle renews as you feel just how big he is, the girth making genuine fear lance your spine as you realise that his earlier rough treatment with his fingers was a necessity more than anything else. Aside from the stretch which his fingers provided, you were horrified to feel just how wet you were as his cock grazed along your slit; collecting your arousal to ensure an easier entry as he forced himself inside such a tight-fit space.

The noise that slips free of your throat is inhumane, guttural and raw, as the head of his cock breaches past your hole. It feels like it's going to split you apart and the sheer burning ache of the merciless stretch instantly overpowers any other feeling in your body - your toes curling as a wracked sob shakes your trembling frame.

"Please! Please, st-stop." The words are a babble, stuttered and broken, as you try to force yourself to relax around him, to adjust to his infernal size. "My lord, please."

The unexpected use of his title earns a rumble of approval and his lips are hot against your neck once more as his sharpened teeth graze across the sensitive flesh while he considers the plea with a low hum.

"Thy slickened folds tell of a differing desire, little tarnished." Messmer growls, keeping his cock still as he allows himself to acclimatise to his gripping tightness of your spasming cunt. "But I am not a rutting beast, devoid of all mercies. Ask it of me and I shall see to thy own pleasures."

Fresh shame flushed through your frame, adding another layer of heat to the already sweat-slicked skin as you listen to his offer. He would force you to ask this of him. To make you accomplice to your own unmaking. A cruel mercy, but a mercy which you would take him on as the alternative seemed impossible to bear.

"I beg you, my- my lord. Please, use me."

His chuckle is victorious and wicked in its joy as Messmer pulls you lower on to his cock, forcing another two inches of him within your aching hole. However, true to his word, his free arm, the one not pinning you to his chest, slips down between your legs and you gasp as his finger circles itself at the top of your cunt, seeking out your most sensitive flesh.

He knows he has found it when you jerk in his arms, an electric bolt of pleasure arcing across your skin as his calloused finger grazes your swollen clit. It sparks him to pick up a slow pace, his cock breaching your hole until it presses flush against your cervix before pulling free until only the head remains. A slow pace, but a brutal one as every thrust makes it feel like he is pulling your walls free with him - the friction immediately sending your body into overdrive.

His finger never lets up the pressure on your clit; alternating between grazing along it directly and gently thumbing circles around it as the dual manipulations forced your legs wider, your body seeking more pleasure to offset the ache of the stretch. Pain and pleasure, both sensations at war within your tortured flesh until his thumb presses just a little too roughly against your nub and you came undone.

Clenching around his cock, your release brings with it a low scream as waves of pleasure roll across your body. Messmer seems to appreciate the forced pleasure, if the growing pace of his cock is anything to go by, but the continued stimulation of his thrusts only serves to make your orgasm draw out until your body twitches from the aftershocks.

"So easily pleasured. Were it not for thy warriors garb and weaponry, I would have assumed thee a courtesan. A temptress, well-versed in the pleasures of men."

Messmer grunts the insult as he continues to fuck you without mercy but his humiliating words barely register within your overstimulated mind as your whimpers fill the large room. His voice is full of excitement and you can hear the slight gasps which exist between the words and how they speak of his own coming release.

His cock having ruined your most sensitive walls, the dull ache of the stretch now only serves to enhance the pleasure and you cannot help but clench around him, pulling him to his finish as his cock twitches within you.

The arm around your stomach tightens, as do the snakes which remain bound across your suffering frame and you feel the heat of his release as it scorches you from the inside out, much hotter than any man you had been with before. Seeking his own pleasure, Messmer pulls you tight, forcing his cock up hard against your battered cervix as his mouth buries itself into your neck - teeth and tongue making a mess of your skin as he marks the territory like a beast.

It all proves too much and you come again, your cunt fluttering and squeezing his cock as low, animalistic noises break free of your lips. Your strength leaves you in an instant after the initial high and the loose limbs of your frame are only supported by his arm and snakes as he keeps you suspended like a puppet until he's finished with you.

His cock pulls out, the movement slow and certain, and the moment his cockhead slips free you feel the heat of his release trickle down your thighs as a gaping emptiness seems to fill the space between your legs. Despite the heat, you feel cold and you whimper anew as his snakes unlatch themselves from your chest and retreat back to their master.

Messmer's breathing is heavy and his chest feels as hot as ever against your naked back, even his armour having lost its metallic chill, as he continues to hold you in place. Aching, twitching, and thoroughly fucked you lay passively in his arm, your entire body feeling loose and untrustworthy.

After a minute has passed, Messmer speaks once more and his hoarse words are delivered to your ear as he lifts you slightly higher.

"My vague amusement with thee requires further consideration." As silken as before, you shudder at the close proximity as you rub your mess-slickened thighs together. "And so my offer is thus: remain in the Shadow Keep as a personal courtesan to myself, a role in which no other man nor beast shall lay hand on thee, or choose to return to ash and I shall grant thee a swift death until thy body is restored by the grace of gold which thee are unworthy of."

Your breath hitches, both options relaying in your mind as you recover from the shock of the unexpected offer. Messmer, however, did not appear to be a patient man and his arm jostled you slightly as he instsntly pushed for a response.

"Well, little tarnished, what is thy choice?"

[weewoo911]

So I wrote a little something loosely based on this post I made about Eddie subconsciously associating his future wedding as being with Buck- I haven't written for ages but I thought if I was gonna make it into a fic I'd also have an accidental drunk confession to Buck in there- and this is that. If I ever wrote a whole fic of this there'd be no cheating so dw dw

"It must be nice," Buck says from the floor, "Marr-Marriaging, -having a wedding. I want that, I'd want-"

"I know what you want," Eddie laughs confidently from the empty tub. It feels very zen, lying here with his legs hooked over the circular tub, like lying inside a big cereal bowl. He is so drunk, and giddy and totally at peace with everything, "You want a spring wedding because you want a frankly ridiculous amount of flowers. You want it far enough away from the city that you can see the stars at night, but not so far that it'd cost too much for everyone to travel there. You like the idea of releasing lanterns but you're worried about the environment so you'd probably want - like- doves or butterflies instead-"

"Butterflies," Buck says from the floor, his voice thick, "Eddie, what-"

"M'not finished," Eddie continues with the gravitas of someone so hammered they cant feel their legs but who is nevertheless making an Important Point, "Butterflies, then. You want a light coloured suit, something that breathes well because you'll worry about sweating. Bobby would be doing the ceremony, so maybe Athena to walk you down the aisle? And of course Maddie as your best man. Woman. Person."

"… Maddie?"

"Well yeah," Eddie shrugs, transfixed by how the ceiling seems to be slowly tilting to the side, "Because Chris would be mine, and that way they can both be involved."

There's a frantic shuffling noise from the floor, and Buck's voice is much clearer when he speaks again, "Eddie. Eddie are you talking about- me and you getting married?"

"Who else?" And in his alcohol-soaked state, it's as simple as that- who else. God knows he's tried to fit other people into that role and they just never fit right because the void in his life is so decisively Buck-shaped. Haha, God knows, his chest begins to shake with silent laughter, it's funny, right? Because of the Catholicism.

"And that's-" Buck sounds kind of upset, which makes Eddie pause, why would Buck be upset when there's good booze and the ceiling is tilting and they're getting married? "That's something you want- the-the spring wedding and the butterflies and the-"

Oh, Buck's simply misunderstood, that's easy.

"I just wanna be the guy standing next to you."

[belleski]

love characters that are so messed up and pathetic and loser-core and will cause the downfall of the multiverse and have narrative parrallels to the protagonists and will cannonically kill and- [image description] A digital illustration of the spot from across the spiderverse. He resembles a black humaniod silohette with a painterly texture - with multiple arms and heads branching off from the main body - and spiralling white spots on various points of his body. The main silohette is surrounded by a distressed white outline which stands out against the black circular void that takes up most of the background. The rest of the background is a distorted, spiraling blur of dark greens, blues and bright pinkish reds that circle the central spot. [end id]

[lex-the-flex]

Eating Him Away

A/N: Thank you guys so much for all the likes on everything! This might be my favorite version of Logan tbh. (And I'm aware of the perspective change in this).

The moment Logan laid his eyes on you, he instantly knew he had to keep you safe in the hellscape of the void. You didn't belong here. While you remained the same in Wade's universe, you were dead in Logan's.

Just seeing you alive and thriving meant the world to him. It made him want to worship at your feet.

From the moment you were captured by Cassandra Nova's men, he didn't let you out of your sight. Even to the point when you woke up tied up to him. Having your lips just inches from his made his heart race beneath the yellow suit.

"Hi." You whisper.

"Hi, darlin'." He replies low enough for Wade to miss.

"What happened?" You ask, looking around in the circular cage.

"We got captured and you fell asleep." Logan states.

A sly smile appears on his chapped lips and you glance down at them, only to feel embarrassed seconds later.

"You two gonna kiss or what? The suspense is killing me!!" Wade rebuttals from his spot on the floor.

"Leave them alone, Wilson. This is the most peace I've had in five years." Johnny interrupts.

"If I were too, it definitely wouldn't be with you in the same room, asshole." Logan answers, restraining his claws from coming out.

Feeling your brows scrunch together, your next words become hitched in the back of your throat, unable to come out. Glancing back at you, you can't help but look away, not wanting to give Wade anymore fuel to the kindling.

Following in Logan's direction, he leads you and Wade to an old and forgotten diner. Opening the door, the three of you step inside, and Logan keeps sniffing the air every few seconds.

"What are we doing here?" Wade asks.

"I smell food. Besides, I can hear Y/N's stomach growling from a mile away." Logan replies, already searching the cabinets for any kind of food.

Standing the middle of the diner, Logan almost instantly finds the jackpot: three cans of Spam. Tossing one to Wade, he joins you, and hands the second can to you. Touching his fingers with your own, you forgot how much his touch had on you. And it was the exact same for you.

"Thank you." You say, cracking the tin open.

Taking a few minutes to fill your empty stomachs, Logan can't seem to stay still. Knocking over countless bowls, cups, and other dishes, he frantically searches the tiny fridges and cabinets for something. Coming up empty, he furiously punches the stainless steel fridge, causing both you and Wade to jump.

"Fuck!" He shouts.

"What are you looking for?" Wade asks, recovering from the quick shock.

Discovering a small First Aid Kit below the register, Logan quickly opens the aluminum box, and finds two tiny bottles of rubbing alcohol compound.

"Oh, shit." He blurts out.

Walking towards you with the two blue and white mini bottles in his hands, both you and Wade begin to protest.

"No, no, no, no, that's rubbing alcohol. You don't want to drink--" He starts.

"Logan, please don't--" You advise.

But your words fall on deaf ears as he chugs the first bottle in one big gulp. Sighing in relief, Logan subconsciously leans closer to you before rolling the other way.

"Fuck that liver." Wade jokes.

Feeling ten times better, the three of you return to your quick snacks, and you take one of the empty seats at the counter. Glancing over to you, Logan can't help but admire how good your suit looks on you. The dark grey and green set of robes compliment every part of your body, from your hips to the tips of the combat boots.

Noticing this, Logan's light hazel eyes reflect off your e/c orbs, staring into his soul. Having this other version of you in the same room with him was eating away at him.

Standing from his spot at the booth, Logan walks up to you and takes you by the hand.

"Come with me." He orders.

Leading you into the back of the diner, you don't ask any questions, you just follow right behind him. Closing the office door behind you, you turn around to face Logan.

"Logan, what are you--?" You start, but you don't get very far.

Pouncing on you, Logan holds either side of your face, and frantically places a much needed kiss to your lips. Passionately moving his lips against your own, you let go of resisting and melt into him.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, Logan picks you up from your hips and gently sets you down on the desk. Guiding your legs around his waist, you run your fingers through his short brown hair. Moaning into your mouth, Logan longed to kiss you again. Just to have you in his arms once more made his heart soar.

Breaking the kiss, he leans his forehead against yours.

"Do you know how long I've been waiting to do that?" He declares.

"Too long?" You ask.

"Too long. It's been eating away at me." Logan repeats.

Hearing Wade knock at the door instantly kills the mood and Logan groans in disappointment.

"As much as I'd like to watch you two fuck, we really have to get going." He says through the door.

Holding your chin, Logan brings you to face him.

"Wanna grab a drink when all of this is over?" He asks.

"I'd love too." You reply with a shared laugh.

wolverine taglist ~

@dreamliners

@miss1sarcasmo

@yellow-eyed-sams-wife

@lost-in-horrorland

@peterparkernotfound

@pcrushinnerd

@foursthemagicknumber

@quillycrow

@till-hes-90

[costinblazetwice]

Back doors With Sana

Male Reader X Sana

Genre: Smut; don’t think I need to mention what “back door” in smut means.

A/N: To all the men out there, I salute you as we near the end of November. 🫡

4.8K Words

You thought you knew everything about your girlfriend Sana—her hobbies, favorite foods, and what she enjoyed in bed.

However, one night revealed that there might be something you didn’t know about Sana. As she was on all fours and you thrust in and out of her, you absentmindedly placed your thumb on the outer rim of her asshole. This spontaneous action elicited a raspy moan from Sana, surprising both of you.

The subject of engaging in that kind of “act” never really resurfaced, and both of you remained somewhat shy about broaching the topic, which was surprising given Sana’s usual openness about her preferences.

But on a night when she was coming over to visit, everything changed. She walked in wearing a long sleeved shirt and shorts, a mischievous glint in her eyes. With a playful smile, she told you to sit down as she turned around, revealing her intention for the evening.

She playfully pulls her shorts down, revealing her bare ass adorned with a pink panty nestled snugly between her cheeks. Your gaze is fixed on her rounded backside, its pale color forming a stark contrast to the red hue that typically graces her cheeks whenever you fuck her.

Her slender back boasts a creamy-white complexion, unblemished and radiant. The slim structure is complemented by a subtle toning in the upper back, a testament to her dedication to intense dancing and exercise. While her hips aren’t significantly wide, a natural breadth seamlessly blends into the contours of her perfectly formed ass.

Sana turns her head so you can see her side profile, her lip turned upward in a smirk like she’s really got something to show you.

As she gracefully bends down, her enticing curves on display, she delicately spreads her cheeks with her hands, revealing an unexpected detail. Amidst the allure, you catch a glimpse of something pink, mostly concealed by her panties but with a distinctive shape protruding from her asshole. The realization hits you—it’s a heart-shaped butt plug. Your breath catches, and a moment of unexpected intrigue unfolds.

"I thought I'd try to take it out on my own, but you can do it for me, if you want."

Her smirk persists as her panties come off, using her hands to part her cheeks, the heart-shaped handle of the toy becoming more pronounced. Drawing yourself nearer, you’re mere inches away, your warm breath brushing against her exposed skin. The sensation tickles Sana, causing a subtle shiver to ripple through her legs.

Sana takes a deep breath, anticipation evident, as you slowly begin to pull the plug out. The unexpected dryness of the toy suggests it has occupied her intimately for quite some time. Each incremental withdrawal brings forth a unique sensation – a delicate, almost raspy friction against the tightness of her tiniest hole. As you continue, observing Sana’s body shuddering in response, the girthy silver object emerges, each inch marking its journey. Finally, a satisfying pop resonates, her asshole instinctively clenching around the void.

Sana lets out a whimper as the toy now sits in your hand, warm to the touch from being in her hole. You look to her asshole to see it clenching, larger in diameter than it would be otherwise.

As you hold the butt plug in your hand, its warmth resonates, and a glossy shine hints at the lingering traces of the lube she used during the initial insertion.

Your eyes drift to the bed and in a wordless exchange Sana lifts herself up and sits atop the mattress. You two continue where you had just left off, you moving closer to Sana who has repositioned herself on all fours, her rear in a provocative display. You take the butt plug and delicately tap it against her lips.

“Open wide, Sana,” you whisper, and she complies, her tiny mouth welcoming the object. Turning it in circular motions, you grant her a taste of herself. She moans, slobbering on it as her saliva leaves its mark on the bed.

Sana’s enthusiastic response to tasting herself, even in this realm of kinkiness, surprises you, adding an unexpected layer to the kinky behavior of Sana in the bedroom.

She pops the plug out of her mouth, turning to face you. Without missing a beat, she crashes her lips onto yours, thrusting her tongue into your mouth. Your senses become engulfed as her tongue navigates the terrain, leaving behind the unmistakable taste of her ass—slightly bitter, slightly salty, and a strange taste that can only be compared to the metallic flavor of copper. When Sana engages in a makeout session, she goes all in, ensuring your tongue bears the marks of the passionate encounter long after.

She pulls back, a dripping mess of saliva on both of your mouths as she gives you a mischievous grin.

“How’d I taste?”

“Like a… penny?” You furrow your eyebrows as you attempt to come up with a good analogy but can’t think of one to describe the bitter, salty, slightly copper taste from her rear.

“We’ll definitely need to brush our teeth once we’re done here,” she says with a laugh, setting herself on all fours with her cheeks spread, a smile on her face as she looks at you across her shoulder.

“Well? It’s not going to pleasure itself.”

Her pretty pink asshole stares at you, tiny in composition. A compelling desire to taste her overwhelms you, prompting a lean-in to give her pucker a swift lick. Instantly, a robust bodily musk aroma envelops your face—a mellow yet slightly harsh scent that unfurls. Unsurprisingly, the lingering musk carries traces of the day’s activities, the result of a butt plug nestled within for several hours, accumulating the essence of Sana’s movements and sweat.

Sana squeaks as your tongue smoothly enters her puckered hole, whirling her insides with ferocity, gradually tasting every inch of her ass that your tongue can afford, the deviant yet pleasing pressure of your vibrating tongue causing her entire body to stiffen.

The taste is stronger than the smell, with bitterness and a hint of salt overtaking your taste buds. However it doesn't deter you from continuing your oral assault. You lap your tongue in her hole, making sure to go all around the edges, occasionally flicking your tongue over the tip of her sphincter, before dipping it back into her ass.

“Fuck baby, I knew this would be good,” Sana lets out in a low growl as she reaches back with her hand and pushes your face further into her ass, wanting you to push your tongue deep inside her hole.

You comply, seizing both of her cheeks and parting them wider, granting you better access to her ass. Her hips press back, urging more of your tongue into her hole. Simultaneously, she grinds against your mouth, your nose buried deep in her crack, saturated with her most primal scent. The sweaty skin adheres to your face, a tangible connection amid the passionate exploration.

The overwhelming musk continues to permeate, serving as an aphrodisiac, inspiring you to eat her asshole with greater fervor, the sticky moisture of saliva dripping from Sana's ass and collecting onto the bed, while stray fluids fall to your chin.

The outer ring of her ass is completely drenched in your spit, the tiny pink hole clenching just inches from your face serving as Sana’s instinctive response that her hole wants you.

“Baby, how’re you so good at this?” Sana inquires in a breathy moan, her hand returning to her dripping cunt, slick with her slimy arousal. Part of it dangles on her inner thigh as she begins to rub herself.

A sudden urge tempts you to shift attention to her eager cunt, but the memory of how badly Sana has desired this keeps you focused on the pleasure you’re bestowing upon her asshole.

As Sana moans in appreciation, her hand working fervently between her thighs, you remain devoted to the task at hand. Your tongue continues its rhythmic exploration, tracing the contours of her puckered hole with deliberate intent. The taste, a potent mix of bitterness and salt from the sweat, fuels your determination to unravel every nuance of pleasure hidden within.

The texture inside her ass is like that of a sponge, clinging and sticking to your tongue as you explore its contours. The taste inside her ass is salty, the sweat dripping into your mouth, while the musky scent fills the air, a heady combination of sweat and an aroma similar to that of the damp earth after heavy rain.

As Your tongue plunges deeper into her puckered hole, you add a finger, Sana’s body shuddering as the tightness gives way. Another finger joins in, and her moans amplify, the rhythmic dance making her arch and grip the sheets.

“Baby, my ass feels so full,” she moans, her ass clenching around your two fingers. The tightness bears down, the inner walls of her hole becoming intimately noticeable. You pump her gently, easing her into the sensation. She hisses in response, pleasure overpowering the initial sting.

After a few more well-timed pumps, you skillfully retract your fingers from Sana’s rear, eyes focused on the scene unfolding. Her hole, notably wider than at the start, momentarily clenches before gracefully easing back into an alluring openness. It’s like an erotic ballet, a visually enticing dance that vividly signals her preparedness for something more large, more big in size.

“I can’t hold back any longer, Sana,” escapes your lips in a guttural groan. Swiftly, you yank down your pants, revealing a throbbing member slick with the glistening promise of precum. Sana, catching the raw desire in the air, turns her body around with an audible lick of her lips, her eyes locked on the pulsating anticipation.

“You’re getting this hard from my ass?” She smirks, a mischievous glint in her eyes. Leaning down, she plants a teasing peck on the slit of your throbbing cock. Pulling back, your precum clings to her lips, and with a skillful hand, she gathers it up before sensually placing it into her eager mouth.

A low, raspy groan escapes you as you take the fingers that were just immersed in Sana, guiding them to her waiting mouth, where the mingling of the taste of her ass and the warmth of her mouth creates an intimate fusion. The bitter yet salty essence from her most intimate depths adds an irresistible layer to the exploration.

She licks it up, slobbering your fingers with her saliva. She pulls back, her facial expression undergoes a lewd metamorphosis; her eyes, dark pools of desire, lock onto yours with intensity. A mischievous smile tugs at her lips, adorned with a glistening trail of your precum. It’s a mix of lust and satisfaction, the taste of your liquid mixed with the bitter taste of her most secret hole causing her to instinctively guide her hand to her cunt and begin rubbing it in circular motions viciously.

Her arousal pools on the bed, the sticky substance dripping slowly, akin to a raindrop descending on glass. Sensually she spits out a generous amount of saliva over your cock.

As she spits, Sana wears a mischievous grin, the playful curve of her lips matching the audacious act. The corners of her mouth twitch slightly, a sign of confidence. The saliva leaves her lips in a controlled spray, guided by her deliberate movements. With a skilled hand, she lathers it across your length in a provocative display.

“Fuck baby you’re so hot,” she declares bringing her face closer to yours as he her expression changes. The mischievous grin gives way to a more intense gaze, her eyes locking onto yours with a hunger that transcends words. There’s a hint of vulnerability in the slight furrow of her brows, revealing the depth of desire that fuels the moment.

Her heated breath grazes your face as her mouth finds your neck, delivering a delicate bite while her hand moves with a deliberate pace, stroking your member. Breasts pressed against yours, both of you relying on your knees for support on top of the bed. A moan escapes your lips, harmonizing with the sensations coursing through you as she continues to suck on your neck. Your hand ventures, caressing her abdomen near her navel, a silent acknowledgment of restraint, holding back from the temptation of pushing your fingers into her cunt, mindful that your fingers have already explored the depths of her ass.

She withdraws, a lingering ache marking the spot where her bite left its mark, reminiscent of a vampire savoring the aftermath. Her lips meet yours in a swift kiss, and as she pulls away, you’re greeted by the sight of her flushed cheeks, plump lips, and glossy eyes. A wide smile spreads across her face, evolving into a soft laugh. Returning for another round, she leans in, this time planting a tender peck on your nose.

“I love you so much, Y/N. Thank you so much for doing this with me.”

You reciprocate with a smile, planting a gentle kiss on her forehead. The lingering sexual tension in the air takes a brief respite as you both share this intimate moment—a gesture of affection from Sana, a token of gratitude for embracing a kink she’s harbored and eagerly wanted to explore with you.

“So, should we get started?” She says with a smile as she lets herself out of your embrace, ass jiggling with each small step as she heads to the the coffee table next to the bed, pulling out a bottle which you can clearly see as lube, but it’s half empty.

“I’ve been practicing for a while now,” she smirks, settling back on the bed. On all fours, her ass spreads in your direction as she hands you the lube. The subtle anticipation in the air intensifies, your hands twisting the bottle open to reveal the clear liquid, clear of any smell as you let it drip over your hand.

You bring it to the inside of her cheeks and spread it around the outer ring of her asshole, finding enjoyment in Sana’s swaying of her ass at the cool sensation.

Sana is on all fours, head turned to the side on a pillow, her hands gripping the bedsheets. You reach forward and grab her ass cheeks with both hands, squeezing the firm flesh. You spread them apart, revealing her puckered hole. It gapes slightly from the attention, and you can see inside slightly, to the glistening of her ass awaiting your touch.

You let the lube cascade over your fingers, slick and giving your digits a shine. With deliberate precision, you insert two fingers into Sana’s pretty pink asshole, the lube seamlessly merging with the moisture from your spit from prior. Sana’s groans echo in response as you pump her several times, ensuring the lube thoroughly coats the inner recesses of her ass.

“I love the way you pump me, babe.”

She lets out a soft whimper, arching her back as you continue to work your fingers in and out of her. Her hole eagerly accepts the presence, gradually relaxing as it acclimates to the attention. You slowly withdraw, leaving a subtle shine behind.

You now insert a third finger, pumping in and out with more vigor. You press down on her ass with your other hand, feeling the firm muscle underneath the supple skin. Sana lets out a long, low groan of pleasure, her hips bucking with each thrust.

Expanding your fingers, you widen her hole, and the tight ring of muscle alternates between clenching and relaxing around your digits, drawing them in deeper. Delving further, you navigate the warm, slick walls, your fingers effortlessly gliding in and out. Sana’s moans now form a continuous melody, her breaths growing heavy and ragged.

Retracting your fingers, you reach for the lube bottle once more. Directly pouring it into her asshole, you observe the clear fluid trickle down the curve of her ass, eventually making its way onto the sheets beneath. Sana gasps, shivering as the cool liquid encounters her sensitive skin. Employing both hands, you spread the lube generously across her entire crack. Your fingers deftly dance over her asshole, teasing the edges, and skillfully dipping in and out.

You withdraw, taking a moment to appreciate your handiwork. Her asshole glimmers, catching the dim light and radiating a subtle shine. Leaning in, you lavish it with your tongue, relishing the sweet tang of her skin entwined with the musky, earthy notes of the lube. Your face nestles into her ass, and you breathe deeply, immersing yourself in the intoxicating aroma. It permeates your senses, a heady fusion of sweat, sex, and unbridled lust.

Craving more, you extend your tongue once again, adopting a slower pace to savor the sensations. Your tongue glides over her puckered hole, tracing circles, exploring every contour. She shudders beneath your touch, releasing a low, sensuous moan. Continuing to lap at her ass, you alternate between sucking and licking, indulging in the feast before you. You continue to push your tongue inside her, feeling the warm, moist walls contract around it.

You want to keep going, to keep pleasuring her, to make her cum. But you also want to fuck her. You can feel your cock throbbing, aching with need. You can't wait any longer. You need to be inside her.

You take the lube bottle and pour what little remains onto your cock. You spread the slick fluid along the length of your shaft, stroking it slowly, coating it thoroughly. Sana is still on all fours, her ass presented to you, her hole gaping and ready.

Sana positions herself, spreading her cheeks with both hands. A seductive glance over her shoulder meets your gaze, her eyes gleaming with anticipation. “What are you waiting for?” she asks, her entire body an enticing canvas—from her cute feet to her long, slender legs, and finally, to the focal point of your desire, her cute, round ass.

“Breathe for me honey, I promise I’ll take it slow,” you respond as you gauge Sana’s reaction, looking at you over her shoulder with a smile on her face, nodding her head. You take a deep breath, aligning your cock with the center of her contracted hole, awaiting in anticipation for the upcoming penetration.

You ease your length in ever so slightly, encountering immediate resistance from her tightness despite the generous coating of lube. Sana responds with a groan, a mix of pleasure and pain echoing in the room. Your face scrunches and you grip her ass tightly, resisting the urge to halt for Sana’s sake, well aware of how much she desires this moment.

The sensation differs entirely from her pussy. While her cunt envelops you in warmth and tightness, her ass resists, preventing any escape and cocooning you in its warm embrace. It feels like there’s no place to go, the unique tension creating an intimate connection.

You persist in pushing, watching as Sana buries her face into the pillow. She harshly grips the bedsheets, each gasp escaping her lips marking the inches you advance further into her.

Finally, your hips meet her ass, your cock completely buried in her hole. Sana takes a deep breath, and you witness her asshole twitch, making attempts to accommodate your length. As you give her the necessary time to adjust, you notice her hands clenching the sheets, knuckles turning white. Leaning forward, you stroke her hair with one hand, while the other gently rests on her hips.

“It’s okay. Just breathe, honey,” you say softly.

“You’re so big,” she whispers with a whimper as you imagine the look on her face as her head remains rested on the pillow. A smile graces your face. Continuing to stroke her hair, you wait patiently as her body acclimates to the intimate intrusion.

The sensation is almost beyond comprehension, and as Sana shifts slightly, her ass constricts around your cock, eliciting a moan from deep within. The rhythmic stabilization of her breathing signals that it’s time to continue with the intimate dance.

You initiate a slow withdrawal, the friction from the walls of Sana’s ass intense, as if her body is reluctant to release its hold on your cock. As just the tip remains, you glance down, discovering her hole gaping ever so slightly. A wave of pleasure courses through your entire body at the visual confirmation of her stretched ass.

You lean back down and kiss the top of her spine as you start to push back in. You can tell she is bracing herself for the fullness again, and when your hips finally reach her ass, she lets out a quiet groan, a mixture of pain and pleasure.

“So good, Sana.”

“Mhmm~”

With her wordless hum you continue with your thrusts, increasing in intensity slightly as you gauge the way Sana’s body reacts, sweat glistening her back and ass jiggling with each pump. From her groans you can tell she’s in a mixture of pain and pleasure, but this lovely girlfriend would never tell you the truth of just how much it hurts, wanting to instead prioritize your pleasure.

Despite the initial application of lube, each thrust seems to draw more dryness, prompting you to moisten your member with sporadic spurts of saliva. The once-abundant bottle of lube now sits empty, a testament to the fervor of your shared passion.

“Baby, my ass, my ass is so hot~”

You’re not sure how to take that, whether that be a pleasurable hot or not but from the moans that escape her lips in between you assume it’s somewhere in between.

The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room as with each stroke your balls collide with her cunt. She arches her back, pushing her ass into you, meeting your every thrust. The two of you are in perfect rhythm, moving together as if you are one.

The profound pleasure from her tightest hole engulfs you. Grasping her waist firmly, the paleness of her skin transforms into a warm rosy hue. The duet of your moans crescendos, with your own growing louder, fueling Sana’s arousal evident in the glistening desire escaping from her eager cunt.

You lean forward and wrap your arms around her, pulling her body up to yours as her back touches your abdomen. She turns her head, and you kiss her, your tongues dancing together as you continue to fuck her. Sweat sits on your entwined forms, and the unmistakable scent of sex hangs in the air.

“Sana, I’m about to cum,” you groan, pulling back to speak with your warm breath tickling her face, your pace increasing as Sana hums in response, your grip on her waist tightening.

With every intensified breath, her entire body tenses in response to your deepening thrusts. As you approach your limit, the tightening of your balls is palpable.

A rhythmic throb courses through your cock as you release your load inside her, warm seed coating the inner walls, the swelling of your cock in the tightness of her ass feels as though your erection is caught in a warm embrace that won’t let go.

Sana’s breaths slows down to a more relaxed pace, her body unwinding beneath your lingering caress. In the aftermath, you revel in the intimacy, your softened member still connected, sitting snugly in her warm ass.

A tender kiss on the nape of Sana’s neck seals the moment, your warm breath melding with the sweat-kissed skin.

“That was amazing,” you murmur, observing Sana glance back, her hair tousled and lips tinted, a contented smile playing on her face.

You slowly begin to pull your cock out, watching how the girth of your cock had stretched her asshole so, the hole barely contracting to its normal size, the wrinkles around her pink hole expanding as you pull out. Your cum begins to slowly trickle out, and your heart skips a beat as you watch the white substance slowly roll down her taint and down her pussy lips, staining her already wet thighs.

Following your withdrawal, Sana gracefully collapses onto the bed, her stomach pressed against the sheets. You join her, lying on your back, and catch her smirking gaze.

A laugh escapes her lips, admitting with a playful tone, “Sitting’s not going to be easy for a while,” as her hands gently trace the warmth on her reddened bosom.

Confusion clouds her expression as she pouts with knitted brows, your murmur of “Sana, I’m sorry,” being responsible for the expression on her face.

Her eyes meet yours, a mix of curiosity and concern as you continue, “You didn’t… finish, did you?”

She understands now, coming closer so her head rests on your chest, the sweat of her hands mixing with the perspiration on your body.

“Babe, I knew cumming from my first time doing this wouldn’t be easy. It’s okay.”

She looks up at you with those almond eyes of hers, the corners of her mouth turned up on her blushed skin.

Her eyes meet yours, curiosity shining, “It was still really fun. But how was it for you, babe?”

A chuckle escapes as you respond, “I mean I definitely had a good time in a hole that tight. Glad we did this. My cock is very thankful.”

She laughs, inquiring further, “which of the two do you prefer?”

The question catches you off guard as you ponder the correct answer before Sana breaks your train of thought.

“How about we answer at the same time?”

“Huh?”

“Silly, what I’m saying is at the count of 3 we’ll both say which one of the, well, “holes” we prefer.”

“Uh… ok?”

“Alright, one, two… three!”

“Pussy!”

“Vagina!”

Laughter ensues between you two, your choice being more straightforward while Sana opts for a more formal term.

She gazes up at you, one eyebrow lifted in a silent encouragement for you to keep going.

“I mean, it was good, a whole different kind of tightness. But when it comes down to it, I still prefer your pussy. The tightness, the wetness, the way it grips. Plus, the whole preparation and hygiene aspects are incomparable.”

As your words unfold, your cock lightly twitches, the memory of Sana’s cunt, the warmth and wetness vividly replaying in your mind. Disappointment settles in, realizing her dripping cunt’s heat was only felt by her today.

“How about you?” you inquire, a hint of curiosity in your voice.

She pouts in thought, taking time to gather her words before continuing.

“It was enjoyable… but in a weird way? It felt different than usual. I think the situation made it hotter. Like having sex in that area made it kinda hot but it felt different than the usual.”

“That’s because there aren’t as many nerve endings in your ass,” you casually mention. Her eyes light up, using her elbows to prop herself up, a big smile on her face.

“Nerve endings?”

“I’m not giving you an anatomy lesson,” you joke, the playful banter echoing in the intimate aftermath.

“How was the buttplug? Couldn’t have been too comfortable having that in all day,” you ask, changing the subject to one that had essentially started all this in the first place.

“Hmm, it wasn’t comfortable but just having it in kinda turned me on. Like the situation of knowing it was digging into me with every step I took.”

As she speaks she sits up, spreading her legs to reveal her cunt drenched in her pristine wetness, the inner lips glistening under their clearness.

“Look, I wouldn’t be like this if it wasn’t enjoyable.”

You internally groan as she spreads herself with her fingers, you wanting nothing more than to take her right now but knowing you can’t as your hands, mouth, and cock have been in her ass and for hygenic reasons it would be best not to.

“Sana, I think it’s time for a shower,” you mention, rising from the bed. As you choose new clothes from the closet, your back faces Sana, who discreetly observes the glistening sweat off your back and the toned physique which includes the firmness of your ass, providing a striking contrast to the more voluptuous curves of hers. You can’t blame her, she is a girl after all.

You turn back to Sana, a fresh pair of clothes in hand, and suggest, “Join me in the shower?” She attempts to rise but immediately collapses with a yelp, the lingering sensation in her ass making movement difficult.

Concern etches your face as you rush to her side. “Sana, are you alright?” you ask, your brow furrowed and lips slightly parted in worry. She reassures you, explaining that the aftermath is intense but temporary.

“This is going to be harder than I thought.” She whines, looking up at you with a pout and adorable puppy eyes as you can’t help but let out a chuckle.

Carrying her in your arms, princess-style, elicits a surprised squeal from Sana. You navigate towards the bath, her body pressed close to yours.

“I guess I’ll stick to your cunt for now. But… I wouldn’t mind doing this again someday.”

[laufire]

for my daily reading I always do prime earth comics first then new earth comics, because going from "bad comics I only read for blorbo or fic writing reasons" to "ohmyGOD thiscomic isactuallySOgood icouldjustCRY" is far better for the psyche than the other way around.

[whispereons]

Oracle!Reader Part 6

Masterlist - Part 1, Part 5, Part 7

Walking blindly you were surrounded by darkness. The inky color put you off and attracted you at the same time. Anything before this moment faded away from your mind and any thought of the future was erased.

Step by step you walked further into the void that chilled you to your core. What were you looking for? What were you hoping for? Where were you?

The sounds of a city started to come to you and streetlamps came into view. Black concrete roads paved the way as the sidewalk was formed under your feet.

The night sky was littered with stars and you stopped as memories came to mind. You knew this area, you knew what was about to happen.

Despite urging your body to stop, to not go there, to not witness it again. It didn't listen as it made you run down the streets yelling.

"Ashtray! Ashtray where are you!"

The ragged and tattered clothes you were wearing let the cold air nip your skin. The shoes a size too big with holes let rocks scratch your feet as you stopped and turned back.

You had already gave up trying to stop this scene. This was a nightmare you were going to relive no matter what.

The colors blurred as time was sped up until a series of loud bangs crystalized the scene. Gunshots that still, and currently are haunting your dreams.

The sight of an old, ragged man and a cat laying on the ground stabs your heart. The blood pooling around leads your eyes to the injuries.

Eyes glazed over, a jaw barely hanging on by blood stained muscles, and a bloody hole in his forehead that went all the way through. His clothes did very little to hide the gunshot wounds in his torso.

A lean gray cat with black and white patches was in the man's arms. The dried blood and singular bullet hole in the unmoving cat's side made it clear that Ashtray had died earlier.

You took shaky steps towards the old man and Ashtray. The night sky and urban city washed away into the shadows.

With every step you took they only got further and further. The contradicting thoughts between running away and getting closer rattled you.

You loved them. You loved that old man despite the short time you knew him. You loved Ashtray despite his smell and diseases. It's not like you were any different at that time.

You watched as Ashtray and the old man changed into a treasure hoarder. The first treasure hoarder that you saw die by the nobushi.

The small whisper, "Why?…" was all you heard from the wide eyed treasure hoarder before he turned into a stake. The stake suddenly went ablaze as a man's voice screamed.

"WHY? WHY ME?! OH HOLY CREATOR SAVE ME! HELP ME!"

The last scream he let out jogged your memory of the Watatsumi Island sacrifice. The burning stake exploded as wind blew them together to form a Anemoboxer.

The Anemoboxer that you killed.

He took slow steps toward you as the wounds you left on him bled heavily. The ground shook as he came closer and you can only back up until you no longer felt ground under you.

Your breath was stolen as you fell off the cliff. The Anemoboxers form got smaller and smaller as you continued falling. Your hair whipped in the air as your stomach dropped. At last when you could tell the ground was about to meet you, you screamed.

Nothing but a broken gasp left you as you fell off the bed. The flash of pain from hitting the boat floor was a small price to pay for the relief the cold floor gave your sweaty skin.

You laid there tangled with the blanket on the floor struggling to breathe. The waves slowly rocked the boat as the moon shined through the small circular window.

Your breathing slowed down back to normal as you focused on the sound of Beidou and her crew walking around. The boat must have already left and the majority of the crew must be back from drinking.

The sound of their rowdy footsteps and drunken yelling helped ground you. After escaping the blanket you walked to the small door on the side. As you suspected, it lead to a small bathroom.

After cleaning yourself up from the sweat and grime from traveling to Ritou, you felt a little better. The nightmare lingered in your mind but you were more rational.

That treasure hoarder's death wasn't your doing, That man on the stake may have died for you as the creator but you never ask for it. It was really more of his punishment for his crime then something you caused. Now the Anemoboxer...

He may have been doing his 'job' but that doesn't excuse the fact they were kidnapping children for whatever reason. Many times in Genshin Fatui agents were seen taking advantage and/or trying to harm them. A world quest in Sumeru's Kimara village came to mind concerning the Fatui, children and the Aranara's.

Besides did you hold the other two Fatui skirmishers death against Heizou? No, he did it for a good reason therefore you killed for a good reason too. It sounds brutal but that's the truth. Teyvat has it's own laws after all.

With a lighter heart you examined yourself in the mirror. The bathroom was pretty clean for a pirate crew. Druggie dens and frat party bathrooms couldn't even compare. The mask you wore was still barely hanging on.

The mask Yae got you came to mind. After taking it out of the box you turn back to the mirror and remove your old mask. The sight of your full face left you surprised and bitter.

All the statues and artwork pictured you with a healthy glow, clear skin, and a peaceful or loving expression. It's nothing like the face that looks back at you with eyebags, unkempt eyebrows and tired eyes.

The fact that the 'creator' version of you has become more familiar to you then your real face was depressing. You were starting to seriously doubt your belief in whether Teyvat is better than Earth. Your life is shitty in both… maybe you're the actual problem.

Dismissing the weird end your thoughts turned to, you put on the new mask and left your room. You didn't want to go back to sleep but the thought of staying in that cramped room wasn't appealing either.

Contrary to how loud it was earlier, the boat was quiet. You walked past many passed out sailors and were careful not to step on them. After wandering around the lower decks you finally found the steps leading to the main deck.

The salty and crisp air hit your face like a slap. You grabbed a hold of the railing and cringed as the air woke you up. This was your first time on a boat and the waves could be felt way stronger higher up.

Carefully you walked to the railing and saw Inazuma in the distance. It felt unbelievable that you actually escaped with your life. That you were actually going to explore the rest of Teyvat. As long as you live of course.

The boat must have left not too long ago since you can still see the general shape of Ritou. Inazuma was much more pretty from far away. Maybe whenever you come back you can properly enjoy the sights.

Turning back to see the rest of the main deck, you spot another person. White hair with a red streak, red maple leave patterned clothing, and a Iron Sting sword on his hip was Kazuha.

Kaedehara fucking Kazuha was on the opposite side of the deck. The first acolyte you can talk to without fear of Ei or Yae finding out. No chance of your identity being exposed!

That's what you thought until you remembered the wind that he talked to so much.

You were careful not to stare at him as you began a debate with yourself.

You wanted to live a quiet life to avoid drawing attention and potentially exposing your lie. But you also needed to interact with people to build up creditability in the case that you are caught. Yet the only way to talk to them and not have them dub you as suspicious due to the sensation they feel from when you pulled them is to be clear in your oracle identity.

No matter how you slice it, you have to talk and make connections. Then try to keep things only surface level from then on to avoid spinning too many lies. It was hard enough keeping track of everything, you didn't need to throw in unnecessary lies.

A tightrope you will unfortunately walk as long as you want to live.

You walk to Kazuha and get a better look at him as you approach him. His elbow was resting on the railing with his face in his palm. Eyes closed as the moon illuminated him. Truly the picture perfect of serene.

If you ignore his flushed cheeks and soft snores.

Maybe it would be better to just say hello tomorrow-

Kazuha's crimson eyes open slowly and lock onto you immediately. A giggle leaves him as he stares at you in a daze.

"Hello there… I'm-I'm Kaedehara Kazooha."

He ends his sentence with another giggle. He was drunk. Very fucking drunk. You remember the second Golden Apple Archipelago, Kazuha only drank a few cocktails and couldn't even stand. How did he not fall off the ship like this?!

He moves to take a step towards you and he sways dangerously near the edge. Worried you move forward and steady him by letting his arm hang around your shoulder.

This was now the second time a short anemo guy was leaning on you in this position. Maybe it'll become a pattern with them?

Half lidded red eyes stare at your face and it makes you nervous with the close proximity. What if he remembers this incorrectly and thinks you did something bad to him? You help him stand straighter and speak with a worried tone.

"Hello, I'm Y/N but that isn't important right now. Are you okay? You almost fell off the ship."

"Oh, really? It-It's because Beidou didn't-n't give me the rest of the wine." He slurs his words and pouts at you.

Were you supposed to feel bad for him? Because you only wanted to laugh at seeing the calm and poetic Kazuha pout at you. Was this really the same guy that threatened to brand a treasure hoarders forehead?

Well that sobered you up quickly.

"I'm sure Beidou did that with your well-being in mind. Why don't I help you to your room?"

"I cannot agree… not when the wind is… is sweetly crooning to me of… your brilliance." He giggles drunkenly and finishes. "So please… let me stay with… youUU-"

"Okay, okay! Just please quiet down."

You look around and spot a few sturdy looking barrels. You drag the giggling man to the barrels and sit on the ground with your backs resting against the barrels.

Not the most comfortable position but there were no chairs and you didn't want him near the ledge. Now with more space between you both, he seemed to take in your features better.

"You feel very familiar... just like my friend. When I remember himmm melanch-choly consumes me. But you… you feel like a sweeeet dream that-t I'm returning to."

His words are scattered and hard to understand but the meaning is clear.

"I'm an oracle for the creator. Many acolytes that have met me say the same thing."

"Then why does... the wind sing to meee about you?" The pauses and slurring are starting to decrease but the red in his cheeks stay strong.

"Why does th-the sight of you make me, make me want to spout every bit of poetry in my soulll."

His glazed eyes are now intensely staring at you. If it wasn't for his sleepy blinking and fumbling words you would think he was sober. Kazuha starts scooting closer to you.

"The wind? I'm not sure but it must be my connection to the creator. As for the other part, it may be because you drank too much."

The wind must be anemo, some people theorize that Venti is who he talks to but that's not the most concrete theory. Elements and archons must be different entities seeing as you wielded electro to protect yourself. If Ei and electro were the same, surely she would have the electro harm yourself. Ugh that topic requires more attention then you can give it right now.

"Drank too much? No, no, no. I drank far too lit-little. I just need the taste of something stronger..."

You didn't realize just how close Kazuha was now. He was now boxing you against the barrel with his legs on either side of yours. His hands were pressed on the barrel with his face inching closer.

Holy shit, holy shit. Your first instinct is to freeze when you can feel his breath lightly graze you. His eyes stare at you in slight wonder as he speaks softly.

"You must be my new muse. That is why the wind calls me to you. Having you in my vision makes my heart race. It makes me wish I hadn't drank a single drop of sake, for I am getting drunk on your presence alone. The wind speaks of the glory and happiness you bring to anyone lucky enough to meet you. There is no greater muse that I could long for. The haikus and poems I can create in your presence are-"

Okay so he's still shitfaced, the cold wind only improved his speaking. But he was veering dangerously close to doing something that sober him will hold against you.

"Kazuha, I am extremely flattered to be called your muse. And I truly do wish you luck in your writing but it's best you go to bed now."

He giggles and closes his eyes seemingly not realizing you cut him off.

"Y/N, ah what a sweet name, I understand that you may have some reservations about my words but-"

With no time to lose you move his hand off the barrel so you can move out the way and stand up. You pull him up and wrap his arm around your shoulder to not let him fall.

Ignoring your flushed cheeks and rapidly beating heart you speak softly to Kazuha in case the alcohol makes him react strongly.

"Kazuha, if I am your muse then you must know just how heartbreaking it is to lose your muse. The alcohol impairs you and makes you see me in a foggy state of mind. Your drunkenness' is hindering your vision of me."

He pouts and rests his head on your shoulder. Defiantly he retorts.

"I am not drunk, I drank very little." It feels like you're talking to a cranky kid rather than a full grown man.

"My mistake then, I'm sorry Kazuha. Now which way is your room? To make up for my mistake I should escort you back. Not because you're drunk but so that you could draw more inspiration from me as we walk together."

"Oh I see, it's just down those stairs and then a right till we get to the end of the hallway."

Guiding drunk people into telling you what you need to know is one of the easiest things. You spent a lot of time on Earth surrounded by drunkards and tricking them into spilling information.

With a smile you help Kazuha to his room. With each step the sleepy swordsman became heavier and heavier. You're basically carrying all of Kasha's weight when you finally arrive at his room.

He must be pure muscle from how much weight you were carrying. You push the door open with your shoulder and sigh in relief once you drop him on his bed.

Kazuha sleepily moves to rest his head on the pillow as you catch your breath.

"Well Kazuha I'll see you in the morning." You move to leave but Kazuha grabs your wrist and looks up at you.

"Nooo... Don't leave yet. Stay with me, just for a little while. I'll tell you the haiku I made with the inspiration I got from you."

It wouldn't hurt to stay right? No one could deny that Kazuha was a very cute drunk. You could totally afford to give in for once. You sat on the bed and smiled at him.

"It would be my pleasure Kazuha. The creator has always praised your flowery language so I've always wanted to hear it myself."

Kazuha smiles brighter at the mention of the creator. "Then I'm confident that you will enjoy it Y/N."

"Winds whisper sweet sounds,

In my sight, the brightest star,

Gold masks and bright smiles."

Kazuha finishes the haiku before passing out on the bed. Shoes and all. You try to get up and leave again but his grip on your wrist is tight. You tug your wrist but he's just not letting go.

Is it because he's a skilled swordsman that it's this hard to escape his grasp? After bracing yourself and pulling a few time you finally got your wrist free.

You leave Kazuha's room feeling a lot better then when you first boarded the ship. Although you know Kazuha will be horribly embarrassed when or if he remembers what happened, it's more than okay with you.

Not only will Kazuha automatically have a good impression of you for dealing with his drunken self but also feel indebted to forgiving any mistakes you might make. Plus it was fun not having to worry about any lies to tell or upkeep.

It's futile to hope but you still want to entertain the idea of the rest of your journey being this peaceful. Seeing your favorite characters in passing and admiring the scenery of the different nations. It's what you dreamed of while on Earth and now you'll also dream of it while being on Teyvat. Ironic isn't it?

You remember something and head to the main deck. After walking to and from it, you've figured out the general route. The drunk crew members were still sprawled, passed out on the floor. Which was really annoying to pass over so you took the liberty to move them to sit against the wall.

Once outside you looked towards the direction of Inazuma. It was a lot smaller now but you could still see Narukami Island. It was close enough for what you wanted to test. The lack of witnesses was a nice bonus.

Pulling up the game screen, you went straight for the Wish system. One look at your primogems made you wanna cry. How in the world did you get 15,546?! You only had 46 when you were on Earth! Another mystery that you were not going to spend precious time thinking about.

There was no banner either, instead it had a handprint. Errily similair to the boat you used when you first arrived here. You placed your hand on it and say.

"Show me Kamisato Ayaka's banner."

It starts to glow and you yank your hand away. The glowing stops showing Ayaka's banner with the fours stars from her most recent banner. This could be really helpful and seriously exploited.

The increase of primogems, the banner disappearing, choosing any banner, it must all be due to your power as the creator. Although the game screen is weird and mysterious, it has always helped you. Best not to question it.

You had no pity and only had enough primogems for 97 pulls, would it be enough? Putting trust into whatever luck you had, whether good or bad, you start wishing.

You press the 10 pull option and watch the night sky above you glimmer as a purple shooting star is surrounded by smaller blue shooting stars.

No wonder they believed you were some holy creator who was going to descend on Teyvat with gold blood. The sight was breathtaking.

Maybe Hoyoverse or rather Mihoyo was the true creator and you were just deluding yourself into thinking you were the creator?

Nah too far of a stretch. Plus they knew what was your favorite food, so you were most definitely still the creator.

The game screen displayed all the character constellations and weapons you won. So you kept pulling and pulling with still no Ayaka in sight.

At the 90th pull you finally saw the gold shooting star. It was the sky lighting up with a gold glow that really caught your attention. Unlike the blue stars that fizzled out quickly or the purple stars that joined others to form constellations, the gold star went farther.

It shot across Inazuma until it seemed to be over the Kamisato Estate. It gave one last bright gold glow before disappearing. Looking back at the screen, you saw Ayaka's splash art.

Satisfied, you exit the Wish system and close the screen. Hopefully her life would be easier now that she was a awakened acolyte. That she can feel loved by the creator she treasures so dearly even though you will probably never build her.

You go back to your room and lay on the bed. You fall asleep to the sounds of the waves and creaking of the boats. Completely unaware of the joyful crying from Ayaka and the celebrating Kamisato Clan.

Wanted to keep this a happy(ish) chapter. Plus I wanted a short one after the monster that was part 5. Kazu's haiku was made by me, yes I followed the rules. Like the 5, 7, 5 syllable rule. I'm pretty sure I did it correctly but idk it was my first time doing poetry. I'm just lucky it didn't need to rhyme. The next chapter will be purely boat stuff with Beidou and Kazu. For now at least, may add more as I write the draft. Also going to be counting the Liyue characters to see how many I can fit. Along with locations since Y/N is going to the Adventures guild. Perhaps as I write I'll figure out if Y/N should go to Sumeru or Mondstadt. Taglist: @vvyeislazzy, @nikqi, @the-dumber-scaramouche, @etherisy, @yourlocalstranger123, @ra404, @iruiji, @goldenglow149, @haru-tofuu, @lsleepysimpl, @bebobeboben, @yuyuzi-ling, @amidst-the-tempest, @resident-cryptid, @mxd1zzy, @mochicurls21, @nervouseaglelover, @thedevioussmirk, @yumuramma, @kwqsla, @undecidingfate, @ehjane, @game-savvy, @akiramirae, @sielt, @fluffy-koalala, @formacoon, @sxftiebee, @khxii-i, @ursinaw, @chuuya-brainrot, @sweetbills, @kazuchaos, @snowfoxnix, @bluebelony, @conspicuous-mayonnaise, @pencil-of-ashes, @ghostlyintervention, @taiformaifoe, @sielt, @goaudduck, @carminerin, @maddysflowers, @zenith-of-all-zeniths, @crazydreamcat, @leafanonsforest

[promitto-amor]

How lucky you are to have me

Pairing: Mark Hoffman X You

Summary: You save Hoffman from the bathroom and he is eager to make up for lost time.

Warning: SMUT! Swearing (Hoffman says fuck alot, it's canon), gore/death references.

Alrighty it was about time I wrote a smutty Hoffman fix while I'm still in my Saw era. And I get to write my own little 'Hoffman escapes the Bathroom', because we all know it's happening! Enjoy kittens.

You could hear his screams from down the dank corridor. They sounded hoarse, no doubt from the wildfire rage that often consumed him these days. Your footsteps echoed loudly, at every corner you thought someone may jump out and apprehend you, but the route was void of all life. All that remained was darkness and a trail of dried blood.

You press your palms against the industrial door and give it a push. It doesn’t move an inch. The Doctor had been certain that there would be no escape.

The screams from inside stop as you slot a hairpin into the lock and after a couple tries you hear that telltale click. You heave the door open only to recoil at the stench of decayed flesh and death that greets you.

Shoving your sleeve in front of your nose, you walk into a nightmare. It’s dark enough that only outlines are visible, a line of cracked mirrors, a toilet, pipes, skeletons. Fishing in your coat pocket, you shine your torch around the bathroom and it lands on a skeletal foot. You almost drop it in your haste to move away, as you venture deeper into the bathroom. Goosebumps arise on your forearms at the disconcerting sound of a chain slithering through the dark.

“Took you long enough.”

You run your torch up bare feet and a shackled ankle, continuing upwards. Mark Hoffman flinches as your torch hits his face and you lower it to his chest, “I had to be sure they’d all left.” You return, taking a glance over your shoulder. “I’m taking a colossal risk myself.”

“Then get me out quick.” He hisses, dropping his eyes to the shackle.

“What happened to your grand plan?”

Hoffman holds up a key, “New shackle. No fucking keyhole.”

You make a sympathetic noise which deepens Hoffman’s scowl, “How lucky you are to have me.”

You drop your backpack beside him and root around inside. Hoffman watches your every move. You hand him the torch, “Shine this in the bag, will you?” He does as asked, “What did you bring?”

“I wasn’t sure what I’d be facing.” You take out an angle grinder and a grin winds onto Hoffman’s face. You switch it on and the sound of the churning saw blade sounds far too loud. You glance up at Hoffman, “If I cut you, it isn’t intentional.”

Hoffman looks like he has half a mind to yank the angle grinder out of your hands, but instead he swallows and takes a measured breath, “Just do it.” You lower the saw blade and almost miss his last few words, “I trust you.”

Steeling yourself, you align the circular saw blade with the steel and keeping a firm grip, start slicing through the shackle. There’s already chaffing around his ankle, no doubt from Hoffman’s attempts to free himself in the hours before you arrived. You hardly breathe as the blade works through and then you pull the saw blade back when there is only the smallest join of steel left hanging together. “Maybe I should have just cut the chain and we deal with the shackle later?”

Hoffman seizes the shackle and gives it a brutal tug. The shackle snaps and you wonder whether it was weakness in the metal from how much you’d sawed through, or Hoffman’s adrenaline-fuelled force that gave him his freedom. You switch off the angle grinder and shove it back in your backpack as Hoffman stands. He throws the chain away from him and then he’s towering above you. His broadness always throws you off-kilter, no matter how many times you stand before him. The circle of light from the torch jumps around the bathroom as Hoffman takes a step closer. He seizes you by the back of your neck and crushes his lips to yours. You can’t move, not with the death grip he has on you. You had no chance to breathe before it happens, leaving you to make a pathetic noise for Hoffman to release you. You disconnect with a gasp and take a deep breath before yanking him in by his jacket for a second kiss. Your hands grip onto him for dear life as Hoffman secures his own round your waist.

This time he’s the one to break the moment, “Let’s get out of this shithole.”

You’re more than eager to leave the foul bathroom behind. You can’t imagine Hoffman stuck in there slowly wasting away. A man so powerful and dangerous he brought an entire police precinct to the verge of extinction. You still don’t know if fear or admiration drives your lust for him. A heady combination of both pools inside you as you loop your arm in his and the two of you make your way back through the maze of corridors as fast as you can. “We should burn it to the fucking ground.” Hoffman says as you both emerge from the trapdoor.

“Enough fires for one day.” You say, leading the way to your car parked out front. “The Doctor got paged for surgery, but his lackey’s might come back.”

“Doubt it,” Hoffman returns as you open the car door for him. “He made sure I’d die in there. He just didn’t know about you.”

You take the driver’s seat as Hoffman slides in with a grunt. You lock the doors and glance over your shoulder as you reverse out, “If it were me, I’d stake out for two, three days. Knowing your survival rate, I’d make sure you were dead.”

There’s a beat of silence, “Then I’m glad it wasn’t you.” Hoffman returns, looking out the window.

You clamp down on a smile as you head back to your own apartment. Now and then you check in your mirrors that you aren’t being followed. Your house is roughly forty five minutes away from the Nerve Gas House, but the drive goes fast. Hoffman spends the time calculating. Occasionally his eyes slip over to you and you meet his gaze. He’s just as impatient as you.

When you finally enter familiar streets, you speak up, “I was thinking Chicago.” You prompt, “Another city, lots of people to disappear in. Or Florida, no one asks questions there.”

“I don’t care where we go.” Hoffman returns, “So long as I can put Jigsaw behind me.”

You have to admit you’re relieved to hear it, “You promise that?”

Hoffman waits for you to meet his gaze. He nods, “I lost sight for a while,” He says, “But not again.” His gaze returns to the window, now streaked with rain. “I want out. He can have it all, it’s not fucking worth it.”

“It never was.”

You pull into the driveway and park, “Open the glove box.” You order and Hoffman smirks at what he finds. He holds the gun with such a practised hand, adopting a casually defensive walk as he scopes out the house. You walk in front with Hoffman backing you up, better the Detective wield the weapon than you. As soon as the door is open Hoffman is pushing you inside and slamming the door shut. He slides the lock in place as you shed your coat and hang it up. When you turn back round Hoffman’s hands are already preying at your waist. His lips descend to your neck and you let him have access to all of you.

His touch grows desperate, tugging at your shirt, “We should see to your ankle.” You say, but Hoffman silences you with his lips again.

“Later.” He commands and you let him press you into the wall besides the coat rack. You unzip his jacket and heave it off his broad shoulders, dropping it on the floor behind him. Hoffman pushes his body against you, you can feel him hard. You lift your arms obediently as your shirt is removed, which earns you a gruff, ‘good girl’ from the impatient Detective. Your hands descend to his jeans zipper as Hoffman’s hands roam over your shoulders, down to your back and then he’s got your bra dangling from one hand. He tosses it with his jacket, Hoffman’s lips travelling from your neck to your collarbone. A whine escapes you as he suckles there, adding to the bruises he left only days ago on your skin. Fuelled by your noises, Hoffman’s restraint snaps. With a couple tugs your trousers are by your ankles and Hoffman winds one of your legs around his waist.

His low groan brushes against your lips, “Bedroom.”

It isn’t a question, but you nod anyway and Hoffman throws you over his shoulder. The world tips upside down as a laugh escapes you. Any other time Hoffman might have slapped your ass, but tonight he’s all about urgency. The bedroom door thuds open and then you’re being dropped on the bed harsh enough that you bounce on impact. Hoffman tears his hoodie off and off with it comes the dark shirt underneath. You smirk at the sight before you, a shirtless ex-Detective, his chest heaving from the night’s ordeal. Your eyes drop to his full pecs and on catching where your stare has gone, Hoffman smirks when your eyes meet his again.

“The longer we leave that ankle the more likely it’ll get…”

Your words die when his jeans come off and in the blink of an eye, Hoffman has crawled on top of you. He pecks your lips, “Doll, shut the fuck up.” He leaves more kisses with each word, between your breasts, on your stomach and then just above where your panties rest. You suck in a breath of apprehension as Hoffman’s eyes shine with desire. He dips lower, parting your legs. You take a sharp intake of air as you feel his tongue lick a hot stripe over your clothed vagina.

“Oh wow,” Your hand rakes into Hoffman’s hair, “Please…”

You keep your eyes on the ceiling as Hoffman continues to lap at you. Tingles of pleasure spike through your system and your fingers tighten their hold. Gentle fingers slide your panties off, but you daren’t look at him. Hoffman delicately traces his tongue along your most sensitive area before close his mouth over your clit. Your back arches, sensations pinging in your synapses as he starts sucking at you. He chuckles darkly, “Always the same reaction,” He mouths, placing a kiss just above your centre and then his face is centimetres away from yours. 

“Because it always feels so good.” You reason, stroking over his scarred cheek as you try to catch your breath. You feel him hard against your thigh as Hoffman lines up with your entrance, “Already?”

“Sorry sweetheart, I can’t wait.” He murmurs, already pushing in. Your hands find purchase on his shoulders and your mouth falls open. The sting of Hoffman’s cock stretching you intensifies everything. A couple tears leak out and Hoffman’s eyes widen, “Fuck.” His head falls to your neck and with a quick thrust you cry out as he sheathes himself fully inside you. It’s like you’ve flipped a switch, your glassy eyes and sheer vulnerability pushing Hoffman into a frenzy. His hips thrust hard against yours, eager to fill you with as much of him as you can take. The bed shunts against the wall as he fucks you hard enough that it’s better to rest your head on the pillow than try to meet his eyes again. You can hear his grunts of pleasure in your ear as Hoffman swells, a litany of filth spilling from his lips. “That’s it. Fucking take me. Gonna enjoy every second.”

“Please,” You’ve lost all coherency. All you can do is let him fuck you into the bad and take what he needs. Your hands fall to either side of you and Hoffman takes advantage of your submissiveness. His big hands take a wrist each as he uses the new leverage to bend one of your knees with his leg. The deeper penetration makes you jolt as your orgasm bursts fast and staggering enough that your brain feels like it’s melting.

“That’s it.” Hoffman continues, his voice strained as he too draws nearer his finish. “My beautiful fucking wife, always there when I need you.”

“Always,” You bleat as your husband cums deep inside you. His grunts turn to laboured breaths, as Hoffman sags and gives into his exhaustion. Your hands cradle his head as you hold him close. In the afterglow of your orgasm more tears prick at your eyes. Holding him now, treasuring the stroke of luck that was on your side, despite all of Hoffman’s careful planning. You could have lost him so easily. So many scenarios could have put you in that wretched bathroom alongside him.

When your clarity returns, Hoffman is slowly pulling out and rolling onto the space beside you. You curl over so you can settle in his arms, like every night. His fingers play absently with the closest strands of hair he can find, “I mean it.” He murmurs, “I’m done. Tomorrow we’re getting out of the state, laying low.”

“How are we gonna do that?” You ask, “You’re the most wanted man in the country and me by association.”

“I know someone.” Hoffman says, placing another kiss to your forehead. “Ex-military, Iraq. He has connections and owes me for keeping quiet.”

You can’t help a sigh, but it is for the best, “So long as you put the games behind you, that’s all I ask for.”

“You and me.” He nods, “Like before, like it should have been always.” Your eyes get heavy and Hoffman drapes the blanket you both keep on the end of the bed over you both. You look up at your husband, but Hoffman is lost in thought. After a couple minutes he looks down at you, “Perhaps I can cut a deal.”

“You’d have to have something huge to barter with.”

Hoffman smirks, “I reckon I could work something out. There’s a Doctor and his little Pigheads I’m sure they’d love to hear about.”