#he will never obtain drip

[su1c1d4lpup]

[superbellsubways]

Okay

[lordprettyflackotara]

decode || ticci toby

SMUT MINORS DNI 18+ tw: face fucking, bear death?, reader is extremely oblivious/naive

You couldn’t stop thinking about him.

It had been ten days. Ten long agonizing days since you had seen him.

You had been wondering in the forest. Aimlessly of course, searching for some connection with nature you could never quite obtain. Civilization was a couple of miles away, sticks crunching beneath your boots. You had heard what sounded like footsteps behind you. Normally you weren’t a paranoid person, but the consistent sound made you constantly glance over your shoulder. This distraction led you to what seemed to be the end, a grizzly bear rising on two legs to glare down at you. Unknowingly you had stumbled upon it feasting, blood covering its snout and a deer carcass behind it. The corpse was long forgotten, its beady eyes centered on you.

All safety measures you had been taught went out of the window. Every bit of flight or fight completely vacant in your mind as you stared up in fear. The bear could practically smell the terror dripping off of you. You began to walk backwards, doubting your ability to outrun a bear. It was then you tripped, an overgrown tree root causing you to land on your ass. You gasped as the bear towered over you, a low growl sending shivers down your spine. You were sure that was the end, your heart pounding in your chest. That was before an axe went flying into the bears neck, the blood splattering across your face.

Your savior, an odd lanky man with goggles and face mask ran over to the bear, yanking the thrown axe out of its neck. You were surprised at how fast the animal fell over, its breath ragged and shallow. You blinked, the brunette man turning to you, his skin a grayish white you couldn’t quite make sense of. From the color of his skin you’d assume he was deathly ill, yet he seemed more in shape than you. His appearance was frightening and unsettling. He should’ve scared you, especially after just slaughtering a full grown grizzly bear. Yet his presence put you at ease. He stepped over the fallen animal, standing over you. He extended his hand, his palms covered in soiled bandages. Hesitantly you accepted it, allowing him to pull you to your feet. You tried to see his eyes, the reflective bright orange goggles staring down at you. He was far taller than you, your head forced to tilt upwards to look at him. “Thank you,” You say softly. The forest seemed to fall silent, the only sound audible the bear slowly bleeding out.

“Go home.”

His voice was jagged and rough, causing your eyebrows to raise. You wiped yourself off, the pine needles that had attached themselves to your jeans falling to the forest floor. “Can I at least know your name?” You asked. The brunette seemed hesitant, before slinging his axe over his shoulder.

“Toby.”

After that he glanced over his shoulder, as if he heard something you couldn’t. “Go home kid,” He huffed, jumping over the bears corpse and running in the opposite direction. You listened to his request, turning around and heading straight back the way you came.

Ten days. It had been ten days since Toby had saved you, your mysterious savior haunting your dreams. You had dreams of him saving you repeatedly. Those dreams were short lived, followed by nightmares that caused you to wake up screaming. In some he would attack you with the axe, in others he would feed you to the bear. You feared and craved him all at the same time. This lead to you making irrational decisions. You called out of work regularly, spending all of your time in the forest. You felt like you were going insane. After you had washed the blood off of your face, you had no evidence he ever truly existed. Were you going crazy? You couldn’t be. Your determination to prove your sanity led to you back in the forest once more.

You were searching for him. Searching for evidence he ever existed. Originally you had searched for the bears corpse, only to find it gone. You swore you could’ve recalled the exact spot, even finding the exact overgrown root of the tree that caused you to trip. Yet there was no corpse. No sign of anything at all. You found yourself in the same spot again, searching the pine needles that covered the forest floor. There had to be something. A bear that size surely couldn’t evaporate into thin air over ten days. You’d still be able to find its skeleton or dried blood. The circle of life was fast, but not fast enough to make a creature that large disappear. You kneeled down to the ground, pushing a pile of the pine needles aside. You frowned in disappointment when you found nothing but dirt. It was then a chill ran down your spine, the eerie feeling of being watched causing your body to tense. Hesitantly you stood up, looking around.

“Hello?”

Your voice seemed to echo through out the endless trees, the wind causing leafs to fall from the highest branches. It was only then Toby revealed himself, dressed in the same dirt covered attire he wore when you last saw him. “W-why do you keep c-coming back here?” Toby questioned. His tone was harsh, causing you to flinch. You felt overjoyed at the sight of him, his presence alone proving to you he was real. But his tone was chilling, his words dripping with a deeper meaning then you realized. “I keep having dreams about you. I don’t understand it, but you’ve left a mark on me somehow,” You admitted. Your words hardly meant sense to you, yet they seemed to register for Toby. He rounded the tree he was standing behind, approaching you. “Y-you should’ve just forgotten a-about me,” He said coldly. You were stunned, noting he now had two axes, both tucked onto holsters. “How could I? It’s not everyday a guy slaughters a bear for you,” You argued. Toby seemed frustrated, his shoulders tensing.

“I’m not your everyday j-jo. I c-can’t wine and d-dine you. I’m not like every o-o-other pussy you’ve ever let fuck you,” He spat. You glared at him. Your dreams meant something, you knew they did. They had to. “My dreams mean something don’t they? That’s why you’re trying to scare me off!” You said accusingly. Toby approached you, towering over you. His pace was aggressive, causing you to step backwards against a large tree. You felt the bark scrape at your jacket, swallowing at Toby caged you against the wood. “You d-don’t know what y-you’re getting into k-kid,” Toby snarled. You shook your head. “You won’t hurt me. I know you won’t. I don’t care. There’s something drawing me to you. I can’t ignore it,” You confessed. You bit your lower lip, causing Toby to tilt his head to the side. You could tell he was thinking, his mind racing as he stared down at you.

“How s-strange. I can’t tell if your i-i-infatuation is caused by boss n-not,” He mused. He lifted his hand, gently brushing the side of your face. His hands were dirty, yet his finger tips grazed your skin as if you were made of glass. You could feel heat rushing to your cheeks, Toby suddenly leaning away. “I-I’ll come back for you,” He decided. He turned away, causing you to follow behind him. You grabbed his arm, Toby stopping dead in his tracks. “Where will we meet? Here?” You asked. Toby looked over his shoulder at you. You wished you could see his facial expression, his words seemingly cold and calculated. “No. Never c-come back h-h-here. I’ll find you,” He ordered. He shrugged your grip off of him, beginning to stalk away. “Oh and while you’re at it kid, i-it’s in your best interest to f-find a way to repay me,” Toby said flatly, before disappearing once again.

Your simple conversation played on repeat in your head. Looping round and round. Who was his boss? How could his ‘boss’ cause the dreams? The nightmares? The infatuation? You stared up blankly at the ceiling at night, your inability to sleep resulting in your job threatening to fire you from calling out so much. Everything seemed to be crumbling around you and you didn’t understand why. It was a night like the rest of them, your eyes blankly staring up at the ceiling. You had managed to count every spec, your eyes becoming crossed. You had stared for so long you swore you were beginning to see shapes and patterns. Maybe you were hallucinating. Maybe you were going insane. Could surviving a grizzly bear attack drive you mad? Or maybe you didn’t survive at all. Maybe you were dead and this was some weird purgatory. Maybe Toby didn’t exist at all and your mind made him up to avoid processing the extreme trauma. Maybe-

Your thoughts were disrupted by a knock on your window, the sound causing you to jump. Scrambling to throw off the covers you jumped out of bed, rubbing your eyes before yanking your curtains open. Toby gave you a simple wave, his axe slung over his shoulder. You opened the window, watching him climb inside. “I have a front door you know,” You said. You watched him shut the window, yanking the curtains shut. “D-draws too m-much attention. B-besides, this won’t take long,” Toby said. He dropped his axe down on the floor, shoving his goggles on top of his head. His chocolate eyes met yours, staring down at you. “I need you t-to know you don’t want this, I-I need you to be afraid of me,” He growled. You didn’t understand, slowly taking a step backwards. “Why?” You asked, your voice barely above a whisper. Toby followed you slowly, like a predator stalking its prey. “I-i’m not the good guy. All of these b-b-bullshit fantasies you’ve cooked up-p are wrong,” He spat. You felt your face turn red, your eyes widening. How did he know-

“I’m n-not your savior. In e-every other scenario, i’m the bear,” He growled. There was something about his voice, his eyes, the way he stood over you. You hated how attracted to him you were in this moment. “I don’t believe you. You won’t hurt me,” You whispered. In a swift motion his fingers were wrapped around your throat, your back colliding with the nearest wall. The air was knocked out of your lungs, your hands flying to his wrist. He glared down at you, his eyebrows furrowed.

Toby didn’t have it in himself to kill you. He was in deep enough shit with The Operator already, just by saving you. Proxies were designed to be ghost. They operated entirely by invisibility. They were never there. They never left any trances of their presence or work. Toby had a small solo mission, one that didn’t require Masky or Hoodie monitoring him. His mistake was traveling through the forest on foot, just trying to make it back to the mansion as swiftly as possible. He had noticed you way before the grizzly bear. You were quite pretty. Plump lips, soft eyes, gorgeous skin. Toby couldn’t help but allow himself a rare pleasure just for a brief moment. He couldn’t recall the last time he had been around a girl that wasn’t a designated target. In all fairness, Toby hadn’t seen the grizzly either. He was too focused on you and your beauty, his survival skills temporarily subsided. When you ran into the bear he didn’t have time to think, only to act. He felt an odd urge to protect you. Whether or not The Operator would forgive him for acting on this urge was a different story.

Toby was permitted to see you one final time, to finish the job. Masky and Hoodie had removed the bear corpse and any signs of Toby’s presence. Proxies weren’t allowed to leave evidence or witnesses. The Operator would’ve been mildly satisfied with allowing you to believe you were going insane. The supernatural being stayed lurking in your thoughts, sprinkling fear through out your persistent dreams. He turned them into night terrors. Toby felt guilty, knowing that your sanity would eventually turn into mush. He monitored you closely, watching you return to the forest. He feared The Operator’s influence was only encouraging you to continue your investigation. Toby knew he had to put a stop to it. For your future would become far more tarnished if you continued to anger The Operator. So he took it upon himself to attempt to fix the situation. What he hadn’t accounted for was your faith. You had raw uncensored faith in him. Toby couldn’t quite understand why. He needed to scare you away. Your interest in him needed to fade away from your memory.

Yet it didn’t, your eyes widened as you stared up at him in awe. Your lips were parted, your heart pounding as he squeezed your neck. He shoved his knee in between your legs, a small gasp escaping your lips. He blinked, confused at the erotic sound. “I-is this how you w-wanted to repay me?” Toby asked. The idea made his head spin. The idea that something as pure and innocent as you would want him. Your face was turning a darker shade of red, your tongue tied. He loosened his grip on your throat, watching as you gulped large amounts of oxygen. “P-please,” You sputtered, gulping. Toby’s pupils blew with lust, his hand falling from your throat. All of this time he wanted to scare you, yet you were willing to let him fuck you? “You’re not scared of me?” Toby asked hesitantly, You nodded, refusing to break eye contact. “Good k-keep that in mind,” He ordered. He shoved his face mask aside, quickly pressing his lips against yours. He ignored the burning embarrassment that radiated off of him as he kissed you. His eyes were screwed shut, while yours were wide open.

He knew you were staring at the gash that sat on his cheek. The sight alone was scarring, nevertheless unforgettable. You could see his teeth, the skin around the wound healed and scared over. You wanted to ask questions, but his eager hands grabbing your forearms distracted you. The man before you looked deathly ill and had somehow survived losing a major part of his face. His kisses were hot and heavy, desperate to regain your focus on him and only him. Not his imperfections he kept hidden from the outside world. He couldn’t remember the last time he had kissed anyone, the mint from your tongue dancing across his tastebuds. As he inhaled through his nose deeply he recognized how good you smelled. When’s the last time he had ever smelled anything besides dirt and blood? Toby pulled away, his cheeks a light tint of pink as he stared down at you. You looked so cute and flustered. The man before you was enchanting, a supernatural creature you knew you couldn’t understand. All of that mystery only made you want him more. You sank to your knees slowly, keeping eye contact with the man before you.

Toby wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself. Doing this, allowing this with you was wrong.

It didn’t matter how much Toby wanted this to happen. It was wrong. The Operator would skin him alive if he knew the devious acts he was committing. He was supposed to be killing you, not watch you unzip his pants with those stupid big eyes of yours. But Toby couldn’t help but feel selfish. He had never felt so possessive before, so desperate to keep something all to himself. But with you, he absolutely did. He did everything for everyone else. For The Operator. For Masky and Hoodie. He hardly ever did anything for himself. As a proxy you’re meant to be a vessel, a working part in a moving machine. You’re apart of a unit, not an individual with wants or desires. Yet without thinking twice he broke away from that mold, by saving you from the bear. The brunette decided that he deserved one thing and that one thing was you.

You shoved his boxers and pants to the floor, his hard cock presenting itself in front of you. The sight of salivating, your lips wrapping around his tip. Toby’s hand found its way to your hair, tangling itself in your roots. “F-fuck just like that,” He groaned, subtly pulling you towards him. You whimpered as you began to bob your head up and down his shaft, the man in front of you borderline shaking. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this good. Meanwhile you were a mess, your thighs attempting to rub together to create some friction while you sucked his cock. You felt your nipples harden under your shirt, your eyes struggling to stay open. His large hand on the back of your head guided you to go faster, his tip scraping the back of your throat. “My f-fucking fuck!” Toby groaned. You were so perfect. So pretty and usable. And better yet? You were all his. His hips began to snap faster into your mouth, his cock now face fucking you. You gagged on his shaft, his girth far larger than you had anticipated for.

You gripped at his thighs, saliva trailing down the sides of your mouth as he abused your throat. “Such a good fleshlight,” Toby moaned. You felt tears begin to flood your waterline, your jaw forced to go slack. Toby’s thrust were relentless, the brunette obsessed with chasing his high. “A-awe you look so adorable drooling on my c-cock,” Toby cooed mockingly, relishing in the sight of the fresh tears dripping down your cheeks. He could feel himself getting closer to the edge, his fingers yanking at the roots of your hair. You moaned around his shaft, the vibrations enough to send him over the edge. He thrust inside of your throat one final time, his seed spilling down your throat. Satisfied, he watched as you struggled to swallow his load. You gagged as he pulled out of your mouth, watching you gulp down oxygen as you wiped the saliva from the sides of your mouth. Toby knelt down in front of you, cupping your cheek with his large hand. He wiped away one of your tears with his thumb, leaning in to kiss you. Just as his lips were about to graze yours, the overwhelming sound of static flooded his head.

He cursed as he leaned away, his hands gripping his head. “What is it? What’s wrong?” You asked. Toby shook his head. “Boss is calling, gotta go,” He said dryly. He began to redress himself, rising to his feet. You awkwardly joined him, wetness dampening your panties between your thighs. “What about me?” You asked softly. Toby hadn’t considered your needs, his eyes widening as he turned back to look at you. Your face was flushed, your hair a mess. Your lips were red and plump from his abuse, your thighs rubbing together as you stood in front of him. Toby unsurely tucked some stray hairs behind your ear, pulling his mask over his nose. “Dont wait up for me, but i’ll be back,” He said. He knew he was playing a dangerous game, tangoing with the devil that was beckoning him. He felt a brief moment of sympathy, noting the sadness in your eyes. He shoved his goggles over his eyes, throwing himself into the night. You watched him go, leaving you to decode everything that just happened.

[starsofang]

CALL OF THE SEA / PART EIGHT

pirate poly!141 x reader tw: NSFW, MDNI, blood, brief mentions of death, hurt feelings, lots of confusion from reader, price is mean ): masterlist a/n: thank you for all the support and patience! my power was out, but it's back! the truth is finally beginning to come out :p

When a group of unhinged pirates invade your small village, you're whisked away from your peaceful home and thrown on to a voyage out at sea. Forced to obtain a new role as their medic, you have no choice but to accept your fate as you join their forces and aid them in their treacherous travels.

Your mind was in complete disarray. It was clouded over with a heavy mist of dread and perplexity.

You knew your eyes weren’t deceiving you.

The color of Ghost’s blood was as dark as an unlit night, where the moon hid below the horizon and refused to peek out. Pitch black, unmistakably so, and shimmering back at you in mockery.

There was no explanation for what you were seeing. In fact, there wasn’t one for everything that you’ve seen — Ghost’s mysterious mask that he never went without, the skull ring on his finger mixed with the thick onyx that accompanied it, the tattoos that disappeared beneath the cuff of his sleeve.

If you thought Ghost was an enigma before, he was a completely uncrackable code now. You hadn’t a clue who he truly was, or what he was, if the blood was anything to come by.

You stared, and stared, even as the water over the flames boiled and popped in an uproar behind you. Your focus was shifted, and cooking was long gone from your mind.

A voice inside beckoned you to touch it. It was a whisper in the atmosphere that slithered in your mind, growing louder and louder until it was ringing in your ears.

You didn’t understand why you listened, but you did. With a shaky finger, you slowly inched towards the drops of Ghost’s blood. In a moment of hesitation, you paused before ultimately dipping the tip of your finger into the unholy drip.

The moment your touch greeted it, the smallest of steam seemed to simmer around it, like the trail of cigar smoke that Price often left behind in his wake. Your fingertip faintly tingled, like a limb falling asleep and producing a staticky discomfort.

You watched in awe as you pulled your finger back, only for Ghost’s blood to bubble away until nothing was left. The traces of him left behind had vanished into thin air, leaving the wooden block and your finger squeaky clean.

It was as if he hadn’t been cut. It was as if he hadn’t bled.

You felt as if your sanity was falling apart. That was the only explanation for what you were witnessing. You were simply deprived of nature, deprived of your old life, and now, living amongst pirates with nothing but a world of water surrounding you at all times had caused your mind to lose its authenticity.

Panic began to bubble inside of you as you tried to collect yourself.

You felt your own anxiety clawing at your skin, like razor sharp nails slicing you open and bleeding you dry. You were lost, confused, scared.

You had no idea who you were truly living with — imprisoned with.

Surely, you were no longer a prisoner on ship, but you were a prisoner of the dark, because that was exactly where they were keeping you.

As your mind fogged over with grueling emotions, the first person you thought of was Gaz. Perhaps he could offer you grace and explain what you couldn’t seem to gather. It was a fat chance, as Gaz picked and chose his battles carefully.

Quickly pulling the boiling water from the flame to allow it to cool, you scurried out of the kitchen with urgency.

Your chest was tight and the lump in your throat was hard to swallow. The world felt like it was ready to swallow you right up beneath your feet.

You reached the door of the kitchen and quickly swung it open, only to saunter straight into something tough. It startled you and you bounced back, looking up to see none other than the Captain.

He cocked his head in question at the sight of you, taking in your dishevelment.

The way your chest rose with every heavy breath to the shakiness of your hands, he growingly appeared more concerned. It was the first time you’d seen Price truly worried rather than carelessly confident.

“Somethin’ happen?” Price asked. He reached out to place his hands on your shoulders, stabilizing you. He looked down at you before shifting to behind you, searching. “Where’s Simon?”

“Simon?” you choked out in confusion. “Who is Simon?”

“Ghost,” he corrected quickly, narrowing his eyes at you. “Where is he?”

You fumbled for words, stuttering out that you didn’t know. It was a struggle to even speak, overwhelmed with every new piece of information you were discovering.

You didn’t know the pirates had names. You assumed the names they had given you were the names they were born with, as silly as they were. What else were they keeping from you?

You felt blindsided. Sure, you began as their prisoner, but you evolved into a new crewmate that had to stick around whether you wanted it or not. You thought you were forming friendships with these men, at least in moderation.

To learn that these men were complete strangers like you had stubbornly kept reminding yourself for the first few months of imprisonment felt like a punch to the gut.

Just as you began to trust them enough to accompany them, it was stolen.

“What has happened?” Price questioned. The look on his face was grim and tight, and you only remembered seeing it one other time — the night they massacred your village.

“Captain—” you tried.

“Do not,” he interrupted. “It is a simple question.”

You stared at him with eyes full of misty uncertainty, swallowing down the aching lump that continued to harden.

You felt foolish, becoming so vulnerable over your own feeling of deception. These men were still strangers to you at the end of the day, and anything you began to learn about them, you were proven wrong time and time again.

To be so emotional when you had been nothing but strong-willed and stubborn had you frustrated and resentful to your own wounded soul. So careless you were being, opening up to the very men that were bound to ruin you.

“I do not know where he went,” you tried answering calmly, but it came out weaker than intended. “He simply cut himself with a knife by mere accident, but his blood— Captain, I do not understand.”

“There is nothin’ for you to understand, medic,” he hissed, wounding you. He didn’t call you dove, nor birdie. Even your own name would have sufficed.

But medic? Just as Ghost had spat at you moments before he fled the kitchen in a fit of demise.

“His blood was black, Captain!” you argued, throwing your arms up in a frenzy. “It disappeared the moment I touched it, it bubbled as if it were poison and vanished into thin air! That is something I wish to understand.”

You were begging, pleading with him to explain the series of events that transpired. You didn’t ask for this, nor did you want this — but if you were going to be forced into it, you wanted to feel a part of it.

The Captain gripped on to your shoulders once more in a vice, fingers digging into your flesh. You cried out but did not move, glowering up at him as he looked down at you.

Price’s face contorted into something unrecognizable when he heard your cry, and he quickly let go of you, taking a step back. He stared at you for a pregnant pause, lips set into a harsh line until they parted to speak.

“I am truly sorry that we have pulled you into this, dove,” he apologized pitifully.

“Into what?” you asked once more. “Please, I do not understand.”

“Return to the boy’s quarters until I’ve come to collect you,” he ordered. “You will not come out until I’ve said so.”

“Captain—”

“Yes, Captain,” he snapped, glaring in warning.

You opened your mouth to argue, but he only stared more harshly. You took the moment to calm yourself, eyes flickering over the sour expression on his face.

“Yes, Captain,” you muttered bitterly.

You returned to Soap and Gaz’s shared quarters with a rotten taste in your mouth. Upon opening the door, you were surprised to find Soap inside but no Gaz in sight.

“You are not out doing your rounds?” you asked Soap, who practically lit up at your sudden appearance.

Soap sat up from where he was sprawled out in his cot, scrambling to the edge. When he noticed the grimness of your expression, his smile faded and he tilted his head like a curious puppy.

“No, it’s calm sailin’ today,” he replied. “What’s up with ye? Ye looked like somebody’s just killed yer granny.”

You shot him a deadly glare. He threw his hands up in defense.

“Wrong choice of words, dove. M’sorry,” he apologized.

You continued to stare at him for a long moment before sighing. You tried to disperse the rowdiness that your mind was singing to you, but the sounds never halted.

Price’s conversation as well as Ghost’s oddity remained permanent resident for the time being, and you couldn’t evict them if you wanted to. Everything weighed heavily on you, between feeling betrayed, hurt, fearful, confused.

It was all too much for a woman who had already gone through enough.

“You must tell me what’s wrong with Ghost, Soap,” you pleaded. Soap’s expression shifted to confusion before muted realization. “I may not be the best medic, but if something’s wrong, I can help him. I cannot keep being pushed away by the very men who request my aid. What good am I for?”

“Everythin’s fine with Ghost, dove,” Soap assured, though who was he trying to convince? You, or himself? “Was he cold to ye again? I can speak with him, try to make ye two see eye to eye—”

“His blood was as dark as the night and evaporated right in front of my eyes!” you interrupted, growing frustrated. “You cannot tell me that is fine.”

Soap’s mouth snapped shut and his face hardened. You weren’t having it.

“And the maps?” you continued, pacing the room. “The strange poetry in Price’s quarters, the map with X’s over islands?”

“Ye saw that?” he muttered to himself, but you caught it.

“There is plenty you are not telling me, Soap, all of you.”

“Because it is none of yer concern, dove,” Soap replied, his tone slightly flat compared to the previous endearment. “Not now.”

“Then when?” you questioned, exasperated. “You wish to keep me in the dark for the rest of my time on this ship? You will tell me on my deathbed? You have all stolen everything from me, I believe I deserve a little insight on things that very much concern me now.”

The two of you were staring so hard at one another, it was a miracle you didn’t burst. The tension was thick and heavy, it was a struggle to breathe. It was astonishing how quickly things changed.

Your inner turmoil was growing stronger and stronger by the second.

Soap, apart from Gaz, was the one you entrusted the most because he showed you basic kindness from the very beginning. He convinced the Captain of your usefulness, he surprised you with a pair of shoes, and he always greeted you with a smile.

You knew there was a dark side to Soap just as the others. But you were learning that you didn’t like it.

“Yer right,” he said. “We aren’t bein’ honest with ye. But that’s because it’s not somethin’ I should tell ye. Ghost should be the one to do it.”

“He will not even look me in the eye, let alone tell me! He is not normal, Soap, and I wish to understand what you have pulled me into,” you pleaded.

Your words were a play on what Price had told you earlier. He apologized with no true explanation, and it replayed in your head until it drove you mad.

No matter how much you scrambled around for reasons, nothing made sense. Nothing added up. The painted picture was right in front of you with the colors missing.

Soap was silent, contemplating. He no longer looked irritated, but more so perplexed and conflicted than anything.

“Ghost was a part of a pirate crew before us, before Price,” Soap explained solemnly. “Whatever happened on that ship is somethin’ unexplainable and it’s stuck to Ghost like a leech.”

“You don’t know what has happened to him?” you asked quietly.

“I do know. It is too vile to repeat, it’s sick—” Soap paused, cursing under his breath before shaking his head. “For the sake of him, for us, ye need to trust me.”

You went quiet, allowing the room to fill with heavy silence. Soap’s eyes resorted to the ground while yours remained on him, taking in the tightness of his jaw and the angry furrow of his eyebrows.

Whatever happened to Ghost wasn’t simple. You were curious, concerned, both for yourself and for Ghost. As much as you hated him and held no warmth in your heart to a man who could be so cruel to you, there was a crackling flame begging to melt the iciness.

“I do not know how any of you expect me to trust you after everything that’s happened,” you murmured honestly. “Time has passed, yes, but I struggle to accept the fate brought upon me. You cannot fault me for that.”

Soap lifted his gaze from the floor to shift it to you. His eyes softened. You could sense an understanding. It wasn’t the first time Soap had given you that sentiment, but this time felt different.

It felt much more raw and open.

“Nobody faults ye,” Soap replied softly. “Yer hurtin’. But so is Ghost. That’s all I can give ye right now.”

Soap stood from the bed and gave you a pitiful look. He stepped up to you, standing silently for a moment before giving your shoulder a squeeze with his hand.

The touch frazzled you, and you whipped your head up to see him already looking back. It sent a rush of warmth through your body, one that sent you into a deeper pool of confusion.

You’d never felt it before. Understood. Cared for. Heard.

Before you could dwell on it, Soap took his hand away and stepped out of the room, leaving you completely alone once again.

It wasn’t until nightfall that Price came to collect you. Neither Gaz nor Soap came to their quarters, and you knew right away it was because the Captain told them not to.

The day had slipped away, and so had meals. Though you felt the burning ache of hunger brewing, you had no appetite when Price said nothing of earlier but instead told you to join them for dinner.

It was painfully silent when you arrived. Wooden bowls were set out with steaming food, and accompanying them was the rest of the pirates.

The Captain sat you across from him while you were joined in between Soap and Gaz. Ghost sat next to Price, though you avoided looking at him.

It was just as it was the first time you ate with them, and instead of a lively melody, it was a nauseating quiet.

Nobody spoke, and the only thing that was heard was the clinking of spoons along the bowls. Your porridge sat in front of you, growing cold.

“So, dove,” the Captain began, resting his arms on the table. You noticed he hadn’t taken a single bite either. “You want to know what we’ve been hidin’ from you, hm? Get insight on what’s goin’ on?”

You froze in your seat, tensing up. All eyes were on you. You felt your chest tighten from the impending doom that seemed to linger over the table.

“I simply do not want to be left in the dark, Captain. I have reason for concern, I am lost. I know what I’ve seen, and it is troubling me. You said so yourself that I am a part of the crew now, yes?” you replied hesitantly, stumbling over finding the right words.

Price hummed in response. His face was set firm as it was earlier, and you wondered just how much you were truly missing out on.

“I did,” Price tsked, “but you are too weary, too naive. You’re meddlin’ in affairs that you are not prepared for. Drop the matter or I’ll take you right back to that dreadful island of yours. What’s left of it, that is.”

With his stare too intense, you quickly turn your gaze down to the tabletop, skimming over it mindlessly. Except, when your eyes landed on the familiar hands of Ghost, skull ring glinting in your direction, you took note of the finger Ghost had cut that morning.

The wound was gone. Healed, as if it was never there before. There wasn’t a blemish or imperfection on his finger, where there should’ve been a gash that would be dreadfully painful if it were you.

Glancing up at Ghost, his eyes met yours, but rather than the usual fire of anger that flickered behind them, there was resentment. Resentment that wasn’t geared towards you.

It was old, clinging on to him long before you knew him. Whatever had truly happened, whatever had led you right to that very seat on their ship, was the key to the chest that held the answers.

It didn’t look like you’d be opening it any time soon.

[astrophileous]

Hmmmmm for Hotch maybe him lowkey coddling reader when she gets hurt shortly during a case shortly after they start dating? Maybe the team wasn’t aware until they saw him fret this much when he had never done it to this level in the past? 🥹

Thanks for the request babes!! My first Aaron fic ever, so hopefully it's not too bad for a first 🥺 I hope this is to your liking ❤️

Warning(s): gn!reader, established relationship, talks of traffic accident, mentions of injuries, protective hotch, mean words (hotch is just worried abt you ok??)

This blurb was written as a part of the "Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K" celebration.

Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

You heard him before you even laid eyes upon him.

Amidst the beeping machines and the moderate ruckus of the emergency room, Aaron's voice penetrated the air like a sword. The authority dripped like lava from his tone as he badgered Derek for your whereabouts, and before you could shuffle out of the hospital bed that had been your safe haven for the past hour, the cubical curtain surrounding you was suddenly yanked open.

Your movements ceased once you locked eyes with a frowning Aaron Hotchner.

"Hey—"

"Are you insane?"

You looked at him dumbfoundedly.

"Do you have a death wish? Is that it? Or are you just stupid?"

A few feet behind him, you could see Derek and Emily exchanging silent looks between the two of them. Everyone knew that Aaron was notorious for being frigid, and he had a strong impartiality when it came to any of his team members doing something impetuous on the field, but the words seeping out of Aaron's mouth at that moment sounded overtly harsh to those who knew him.

"Hotch—" Derek took a step forward, trying to come to your defense, "—it's not (Y/N)'s fault."

"I'm not talking to you." Aaron's response was cutting and final. It baffled Derek enough for him to trace his step back.

"What's wrong with you?" you asked once the shock dissipated, returning your voice to its rightful owner once more. "Why are you being like this?"

"Me? You're asking me? I should be the one asking you."

Your eyebrows pulled together in confusion. "We were chasing the UnSub—"

"You went rogue," he cut you off. "Morgan told me everything. There's no point in denying it."

Derek raised his arms in surrender when your stare of betrayal slid his way. "Fine. I'm sorry I grabbed a random civilian's bike and crashed it against the UnSub's car. You don't have to worry about paying anything back, I'll figure something out."

"Is that what you think this is about?" Aaron pinched the bridge of his nose. "I could care less about monetary compensations. We can deal with that later. You could've been killed, don't you understand?"

It was his last admission that finally made the pieces in your head click into place. Beneath the anger inside Aaron's words was actually a hidden anxiety ready to break free. He was worried about you, even if he was showing it in the least hospitable way possible.

Your relationship with Aaron was young; green around the edges and blooming every single day like tulips in spring. Nobody else in the world knew about it yet, and the two of you wanted to keep it that way. At least, that was what you agreed upon after having that lengthy discussion following your first official date.

And yet, none of that mattered when your fingers opted to reach out for Aaron's hand. You pretended not to notice the gasp that Emily let out as you urged your boyfriend to look into your eyes.

"I know you're worried, but I'm fine. I'm right here with you, and I'm okay." Aaron's shoulders physically collapsed at your reassurance. Every other noise in the hospital seemed to drown out in the aftermath. "The doctor's gonna clear me in no time, trust me."

"It still doesn't erase the fact that what you did was reckless." Aaron stepped closer towards the bed, overcrowding your senses as his thumb swept over your left eyebrow, just below the wound you had obtained from the crash. "Does it hurt?"

You shook your head no. The injury to your head was relatively minor. Your arm, on the other hand, was sustaining a quite sizable gash from your collision with the car.

Aaron's eyes followed your gaze that had meandered towards the gauze covering your arm. "How many stitches?"

Reluctantly, you answered, "Seven."

You heard his sharp breath before he turned around to face Derek. "Where's the UnSub now?"

Derek jerked his head to the right, where you reckoned the UnSub was being treated for their own injuries from the crash. The words of protest died in your throat as Aaron began to saunter to the other end of the ER with Derek hot on his heels.

With the two men's departure, Emily was the only one who remained.

"So—" she smiled knowingly, leaning against the foot of your bed, "—you and Hotch? When did that happen?"

You slammed your head back on the pillow, muffling your groan with your uninjured arm. "Shut up."

[papijean]

seven deadly sins

summary: the seven deadly sins are nothing but filthy 

warning: smut, 18+ content, overstimulation, oral (f&m), breeding, impact play, dracryphilla, all characters written are 18+

word count: 1.5k

a/n: surprise!! I found this in my drafts and remember that I was super excited about it. 

Gluttony

Yuuji Itadori is obsessed with your pretty little pussy. He can't get enough of shoving his tongue into that tight hole of yours until you're creaming all over it. He's hungry for you constantly, craving your taste to the point he can't focus on anything else until he satisfies his hunger.

He gets so hard when he's eating you - between your moans, thighs crushing around his head, and the oh-so-delicious taste you give him he can't stop his cock from bulging against his pants. It's a dangerous game he plays with himself, the longer he devours your dripping cunt, the more likely he is to cum all over himself.

Yuuji gets so pussy drunk every time you take your pants off for him. He loses all other senses besides taste. Blinded by his hunger, unable to hear your pleas for him to slow down, he can't feel the way your fingers tug at his roots so viciously. He falls into this state of drunken bliss the moment he gets a taste of you.

He's gluttonous for you. So hungry all the time it's almost painful when he goes too long without you. Yuuji needs his head between your thighs or he'll turn into a whiny mess before you.

Sloth

Megumi becomes so lazy when it comes to sex. He's not like his friends who actively search for a hole to sink into or to be filled until they couldn't take any more. Sure he loved the feel of you, but he never wanted to put in the effort to obtain it. He didn't lavish your body with kisses or eat you until you're crying for him to stop. He satisfies you enough by filling you up why would he need to go so far extra?

It's most days the lines blur between lazy and submissive. Megumi is fine to have his legs sprawled out, arms tucked behind his back and watching you bounce up and down on his fat cock until you're a babbling mess. Other days he's so willing to let you do whatever you so please to him, he's fine with taking it all.

Megumi becomes an utter mess when you suck him off for no reason. He'd body jerks with every touch, loud groans filling your ears with such beautiful sounds. He'll never offer to do the same for you, but fuck does he adore it when you get on your knees with a devious little smile.

The way you ride him is so much better than anything else. The way your legs tremble because they're past the point of exhaustion but you're so unwilling to stop because of him. He loves watching you use him to get off, begging for him to fuck himself further into you and never getting the satisfaction of it.

Pride

Nanami loathes when you're able to get the best of him. He loathes when you when these silent battles of who's going to break first. He's too proud to admit when you're able to pull more moans out of him than he can pull from you. It's a beautiful sight when he succumbs to you, a rare one too.

He never reveals how good you make him feel. The silent lover of types, never one to praise you, to let you hear those beautiful sounds of his, never to give you the satisfaction of how you crumble his pride. Never in your life would you hear him beg for you, he'd rather perish than let out a plea for more.

He gives you a constant reminder that he's the one to make you feel so fucking good, it's his cock filling you so deep it's hard to think of anything else, and it's his lips that make you shudder with every touch. Nanami is so full of himself when it comes to pleasing you, he'll go the extra mile just to hear your pride fall apart only to build his up.

Greed

Toji Fushiguro is never satisfied. No matter how many times he watches you cum on his cock, no matter how many different women he's slept with, no matter how many times you gag on his girth he always wants more.

He's never been faithful a day in his life, too needy for every pair of tits he sees walking by to think only of you. You've lost count of the number of times he's got himself in someone else's bed. It's like he constantly needs to be fucking someone to have a sliver of happiness in his life.

But when he comes to you? His favourite little toy? God, it's never-ending with him. Toji fills all your holes, pulling orgasm ager orgasm from you. He's needy to hear your moans and begs, a constant stream of them have to come from you or he's complaining it's not enough - or even worse he'll fuck you until you can't stop yourself.

Toji'll fuck you until you're bathing in his cum. He'll fuck you until you're begging him to stop because he gets so greedy when it comes to you. He doesn't want to stop because he knows you can handle more - more so he knows he can take more from you.

Wrath

Sukuna loves to see your tears. It's the only real thing he finds love in, truthfully. He doesn't care about your pleasure. All he cares about is fucking you until he sees those tears of yours stream down your cheeks. There's something about watching your eyes get all red and puffy that makes him undeniably hard.

He's so strict with you too. It's a constant layout of rules to follow - so many that are too hard not to break. He knows it too, he's setting you up for failure just so he can deliver punishment to you. Sukuna's filled with wrath when it comes to you disobeying his rules. It's different every time. Spanking your ass until it's raw and red, stuffing your hole until it feels like you're about to explode, shoving his cock down your throat until you're struggling to breathe.

It's impossible to leave him unscathed in some way. Sukuna gets filled with a new kind of anger when you don't listen to him and it's only calmed down when you're begging for him, tears dripping from your eyes and your puffy pussy all worn out.

Lust

Gojo is constantly horny. Every time his eyes land on you he wants to devour you. It's incredible really, just how a simple glance can make his dick hard and his heart ache for you. It doesn't matter where you are - public place, bedroom, even when he's out fighting curses he still manages to think of you.

He's a bottomless pit of desire. Gojo could fuck you for hours straight if you'd let him. He needs to be told when it's enough because his sense of exhuastion has been gone long ago. It's hard to tell him your body has had enough. He fills you so deeply with pleasure and content it's just as hard for you to tell when you're on the brink of exhuastion too.

Gojo's lips are enough. He pleases you with them alone - but it's the filthy words that come out of them that truly make him a good lay. He's filled with constant praise of you, even more so he's spilling out such disgusting words it makes you light headed. He's a slave for your hole, wiling to go to an extent just to fill you up.

His lust for you is never ending. More times than not he's pulled you aside, just barely out of eyesight before he's pumping his cock into you. Gojo doesn't care anymore, he's been caught so many times it doesn't matter to him if someone walks in on you - he'll fuck you through anything.

Envy

Yuuta is filled with envy when it comes to seeing you so pleasured filled. He hates how he can't let himself let loose like you. He never gets consumed in pleasure or truly lets himself enjoy the way your walls surround his cock. He can never bring himself to feel the way you do like he doesn't deserve it as much as you do.

He envies you for how carefree you let yourself be. All he wants is to succumb to his pleasure, to be able to let himself use you the way you beg him to without the fear of regret. All he wants is to fill your tummy with his cum, to force moan after moan out of you until you're the one envious of him for being able to go on for so long.

Yuuta is nothing but giving, but he envies the way you receive such pleasure. He wants to be treated the same, to be used as a cum toy until you're so fucked out you beg him to do the rest. He wants to be the one to be so high from his orgasms that he can't breathe or see or hear, all he wants is to feel the utter, euphoric high.

jjk taglist: 

@subtleappreciation​ @kewpiemeayo​  @ivoryeycs​ @itachissharingan  @satosuguslut​ @refrigerated-bread​  

[nxuvillette]

CLASS IS IN SESSION — DR . RATIO

synopsis : vertias decided to have a little bit of fun with you during one of his lectures.

❥- pairings : vertias ratio x fem!reader

❥- note : finally back out of my slump ! sort of.. LMAO. this post was inspired by this thirst, all credit goes to them :) ! i hope you enjoy and reblogs are greatly appreciated <3.

content warnings : nsfw [17+], fem!reader, ageless + blank blogs dni, use of a vibrator, reader is in class, mentions of hookups, teasing, cum mentions, professor!vertias ( they are around the same age ! ), reader is a bit shy.

It wasn’t smart of you to do, no. You should have shut down Vertias the moment he even thought of the idea, but his persuasion corrupted your mind and made you unable to say no. Then again, it was harmless fun! It’s not like anybody would actually be able to notice the beads of sweat that chased down your face, or how your eyes kept flickering at that damn clock that just couldn’t seem to move any faster.

Down below you was Vertias Ratio in all of his glory. He spoke nonsense about mathematics and how to do the proper formula in order to solve the problem written on the board. You knew he loved nothing better than teaching complete, well, idiots how to do things the right way. The man you had been sneaking around with always spoke negatively about the classmates you had. He said they would probably never obtain great knowledge like he did. 

He hadn’t bat even an eyelash at you the entire time. He was merely too focused on teaching the class he almost forgot about the little vibrating object that was tucked nice and snug between your legs. You, however, were fully aware of the toy that was buzzing away inside your panties. Although it was quite subtle, you were still feeling such a great wave of pleasure against your clit. You were convinced that you had soaked through your panties and were probably making a mess on the chair underneath you, but that wasn’t your biggest concern at all. Honestly, you didn’t know why you agreed to such a lewd thing. It might have been because thrill was something you were into, but then again, thrills came with loads of risk.

The scholar then turned to face the many people sitting inside his lecture hall. His amber eyes landed on you sitting in the third row. Vertias could feel his cock aching in his boxers, knowing that your pussy was probably dripping with arousal. He maintained his serious facade, and decided to have some fun.

He stepped towards the desk at his table, leaning over to hold the controller that went together with the vibrator inside you. Suddenly, the buzzing became more intense. It whirred against your folds and made you snap your thighs together almost immediately. Vertias could hardly hide the smirk on his features when he saw you trembling in your seat and shifting around uncomfortably. How fucking cute.

“(Y/N), do you know the answer?” he questioned, motioning his head at the equation written on the board. 

Your cheeks burned the moment his question registered inside your brain. You couldn’t fucking believe him right now. It was almost as if he was setting you up to embarrass the hell out of you. Not to mention, you hadn’t been paying attention the entire time. You really didn’t know the answer, and you were far too occupied with the burning pleasure between your legs to even think of the solution. 

The many eyes of the people sitting around you were felt. It was becoming an awkward silence given how long you had been quiet for. “N-No, I have yet to s-solve it!” the last few words almost came out like a gasp, because Vertias pumped up the pleasure. 

He didn’t seem to mind your reply. If it was any other person, he would have scolded them with some snarky comment that would have for sure left them feeling stupid. “Do try and work faster next time.” he then turned around, scraping the chalk against the board to begin another equation.

But, just as he finished, the bell signaling that his class was over rang in your ears. You felt immediate relief come over you, but once you caught his eyes looking right at you, you knew that it wasn’t really over for you anyway. 

You began to pack up your things while the other people inside of the room filed out into the hallway. This left you completely alone with Vertias. He was waiting for you down below. It didn’t take you long to reach the man you were secretly fucking for months on end. He could see the way your thighs were shaking and how your breathing was just a bit heavier than usual. He was so fucking thankful that this stupid class was over. Vertias couldn’t hide his bulge any longer.

The taller man pulled you against his body. Butterflies swarmed your stomach the moment you felt his cock pressing against your belly. It was painfully hard. You automatically knew what he wanted by the way his hands were exploring your body. Your hands rested on his muscular shoulders while his fingers traveled below to your skirt. A sigh left his mouth when he made contact with your underwear that were completely soaked through. 

Vertias’ digits pulled your panties aside. His fingertips brushed your clit, making you whimper into his ear. Oh my, you were just so fucking sensitive for him. He loved the way you were melting in his hands like putty. “How dirty of you..” he whispered. “Your pussy is so wet.. you must have been having the time of your life in your seat.”

Your eyes were focused on the ground before you. It felt almost embarrassing knowing what he was doing to you. “Vertias.. please.” you mewled as he played with your sensitive bead. 

He forced you to look at him. His eyes were completely blown with lust and you could just sense how turned on he was. “If anyone asks.. I’m giving you some extra credit, got it?” he raised his eyebrows, waiting for your reply. 

You nodded. “Y-Yes..”

“Good.. now sit on my desk. We’re gonna be here a while..” he whispered, squeezing your lips together.

© NXUVILLETTE ┆ all rights reserved, do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.

[lunaritex]

CHASING REDEMPTION. . .ᐟ — kinich.

᱖ content: modern+spiderman au, established relationship, reader is gender-neutral, both reader and kinich are in college, reader knows kinich's true identity, angst with comfort, happy ending dw.

᱖ from hye: ever since i saw this one edit of peter parker jumping down to save gwen… i knew what i had to do, except there is a small twist at the end. @kazuhaiku

Kinich swore he had planned the entire process in his mind. Everything was in place and all he needed was to be mentally and physically prepared to tell you the truth. But no matter how many plans he came up with, he did not take into account how a sudden robbery happened, resulting in him having to leap into action. He did not take into account how the robbery was not what it seems, with the robbers more than prepared to stand their grounds. They were armed with dangerous weapons that one could only obtain through illegal means. 

One thing led to another and he ended up arriving hours later than the agreed time. Kinich arrived at the agreed venue for your date and he was not surprised to spot no sign of you. He pointedly ignored the pitiful look the staff threw his way when he left in a hurry. Not wanting to waste anymore time, he used his spiderwebs to zip across the sky, turning a blind eye to how some people stopped to glance at him. 

It took him exactly five minutes to arrive at the balcony of your apartment. He nimbly landed on his feet, peering through the windows as his eyes furiously scanned your room. He swore his heart shattered when he saw a lump laying on the bed, covered with a blanket from head to toe. 

Knock knock. Knock knock. 

You raised your head when you heard someone knocking on your window, revealing your swollen eyes and tearstained face. You frowned when you realized it was your boyfriend. A part of you wants to leave him outside but you knew he was too stubborn for his own good. Surrendering, you unreluctantly crawled out of bed and moved to the window stand, unlocking the lock and slid it open. Shivers ran down your spine when the freezing wind grazed your skin. 

“What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be busy saving the city or something?” You asked, the sarcasm dripping in your tone made Kinich winced. 

Normally, you would have felt remorse at how you snapped at him but you have had enough. Clenching and unclenching your fists, you looked at him with narrowed eyes. “Look, I’m not in the mood to talk to you right now. You can come back another time-”

“No, I know you’re mad at me and I want to talk about it now,” he interrupted.

And that was the final straw. 

“It’s always all about you, you, you! When have you ever thought about me!? I bet the thought of me sitting in a cafe or restaurant, waiting for my boyfriend for hours, only for him to never turn up has never crossed your mind! Do you know how downright humiliating it is for me to leave and how I have to tolerate the sympathy glances thrown my way, as I walk out of the place? I know you’re doing a good deed by saving the city but sometimes, I wish you could set aside some time for me.” 

Your voice cracked like a whip, startling Kinich into silence. The fire in your eyes was undeniable, a mix of betrayal and exasperation. He tried to respond but you didn’t let him. 

“I don’t know how much longer I can do this. It feels like you don’t even care about me anymore and this relationship is starting to feel one-sided,” your voice grew a notch softer, exhaustion evident in your voice; as if you had already given up trying to fight for something that was no longer there anymore. 

“If you’re not going to say anything, then I think it’s best to end this. Goodbye Kinich and I wish you the best of luck,” you forced a teary-eyed smile at him, sliding the door closed and pulling the curtains, not wanting to see him a second longer. 

Kinich on the other hand, was rendered speechless. He wanted to talk to you again but since it was clear you had cut the line, he had no choice but to respect your decision. After sparing your window one more glance, he zips away into the dark sky. 

~

The next three weeks passed slowly. Both of you were busy preparing for your final exams of the semester. No matter how hard you try to focus on your studies, you just cannot seem to stop thinking about Kinich. Random thoughts like ‘is he doing fine?’, ‘has he eaten?’ and sometimes ‘I hope he’s not hurt again…’. You have not consulted your group of friends about your relationship but judging from how he was not constantly by your side, they already knew what happened. 

Currently, you are heading home after spending hours cramped in the campus library. You were too exhausted to be mindful of your surroundings. You had no idea that you were being followed, until it was too late. 

“Mphmf-!?” 

Your startled shout was instantly muffled when a gloved hand covered your mouth. Your sight turned blurry after you accidentally inhaled something. The last thing you heard was a man saying something along the lines of using you as bait for Spiderman, before everything turned black. 

When you regained consciousness, it took all of your willpower to not scream at how you were dangerously dangling in the air. The only thing supporting you was the rope tightly tied around your waist. Your wrists were tied and held behind your back. You didn’t dare try to move about, not wanting the rope to snap into half. You looked around, squinting your eyes as you tried to make sense of where you were through the darkness. 

All you could see was long and rectangular-shaped steel bars and you knew you were on a construction site. The pockets of your jeans were empty, meaning your kidnappers must have taken your phone after you were knocked out. There was nothing much you could do, except to play the role of a waiting duck. You sighed, lowering your head to look down at the ground and for a split moment, the thought of death flew through your mind. 

“Look who’s awake? Are you getting anxious that Spiderman isn’t here yet?” A sinister voice pierced through the silence. 

You raised your head to see two armed and masked men approaching you, coming to a stop at the edge. One man has a muscular build while the other man was as thin as a branch. Not wanting them to know they have the upperhand, you merely remained silent and looked at them with a bored expression. 

“I won’t rely on him that much if I were you. I doubt he knows that you guys are waiting for him,” you replied. 

The muscular man laughed. “Hah! Nice try, kid. But we’ve managed to drop him a nice little text using your phone, telling him to meet us here at nine sharp. And if he doesn’t, then I guess you can say bye to that boyfriend of yours.” 

Your blood ran cold at his words. 

“I’m here now, let them go.” 

A familiar voice interrupted your brief conversation. The two men turned around and there he was; Spiderman in his glory. You knew Kinich was seething with rage, judging from how his fists were clenched tightly the moment he was informed that you were held hostage. The men smirked in triumph as they slowly approached him, leaving you there to observe the scene unfold by itself. 

“About time you show up. It’s time for revenge for what you did to my face,” the muscular man said, pointing at his masked face with his thumb as he pulled out a gun. You gulped when you saw how dangerous they looked. 

“I don’t remember doing such a thing to you, but perhaps it might be a good thing for you,” your ex(?) replied, and you would have snickered if not for your current situation. 

“How dare you! I should have killed you when I had the chance!” He roared, enraged and started running full speed at Kinich, with his fellow partner-in-crime hot on his heels. 

From your vantage point, you watched with bated breath, heart racing as Kinich faced off against the two heavily-armed men. The tension crackled in the air, thick and electric. Kinich moved with a mix of agility and determination, dodging a flurry of blows while keeping his focus sharp. You could see the muscles in his jaw tighten as he assessed the situation, calculating his next move.

Each clash of steel rang out, echoing in the stillness around them. The men were imposing, their weapons gleaming menacingly in the light, but Kinich stood his ground, a fierce intensity in his eyes. With every punch and counter, you felt your own pulse quicken. You could only watch, willing him to outsmart his opponents and to emerge from the intense battle unscathed. Just when the fight was about to hit the climax and the two men were on the verge of being defeated, the skinny man turned to you. 

You watched in pure horror as he raised his weapon, aiming at the rope and fired. Whatever happened next was in slow motion. Your vision made an abrupt turn to the right, as gravity took over your body and pulled you down. The high-pitched scream you let out was not enough to describe the pure fear pumping through your veins. You made eye contact with Kinich and you could imagine the look of disbelief mixed with horror behind the mask. 

“Kinich!”

You screamed his name at the top of your lungs as your body began its descent to the hard concrete ground at lightning speed. Kinich forced himself to move, dodging the poor attempts of the men trying to stop him. Just for good measure, he shot a few webs aimed at their limbs to prevent them from moving. He jumped off the edge without hesitation, reaching out his hand as he tried to grab you. 

“Hold on, I’m coming!” He shouted, pure desperation heard in his voice. 

With a swift, fluid motion, he shot his web toward you, the silken strands glistening in the air before they wrapped securely around your stomach. Before you could even react, he yanked you towards him, the world spinning as you felt the force of his pull. Just as you landed against him, he swung into the air, the rush of wind whipping past you. Your heart raced as he propelled you both over the danger, each swing taking you away from the chaos below.

He landed gracefully in a safe area, setting you down gently. Your breath caught in your throat as you met his gaze—eyes fierce yet filled with concern. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, urgency in his voice, the adrenaline still coursing through him. You nodded, shaken but alive, gratitude swelling within you.

Your entire body was trembling like a fallen leaf. Kinich gently placed you on the ground, still holding you as your legs gave way. You remained still, the adrenaline and fear of experiencing close death still pumping through your veins as he removed the web from your frame, wincing at how some were still stuck on your clothes. None of you said a word after that, unsure of what to say to break the silence. 

“I-”

He wanted to speak, but you threw yourself at him, hugging him with a vice-like grip as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. Kinich fumbled about due to your combined weight but he managed to catch himself before he could hit his head against the ground. He removed the gloves and pulled the mask off, placing them on the side as he returned the embrace. Your sniffles and sobs were the only thing occupying the silence and Kinich knew you were beyond terrified of what you had just gone through. 

“Hey, it’s fine now. You’re safe, don’t worry, I got you,” he murmured, speaking in a soft and gentle tone as he reassures you. He ran his hand through your hair; an action he knows you love by heart. 

“I was so scared… I thought I was going to die…” You whimpered through your tears as you moved away from him, resting your hands on his shoulders. 

“Kinich, I’m sorry for snapping at you. That wasn’t nice of me, especially when you are doing something good which is saving the city and people,” you apologized, but he shook his head. 

“You don’t have to apologize. You weren’t in the wrong, in fact, it should be me. I shouldn’t have neglected you to the point where you felt like the relationship had become one-sided. I promise you that from now on, I will give you more of my time,” he gave you a small smile, reaching out to wipe away the stray teardrop on your cheek. 

“But, I don’t want to get in the way of your duty,” you protested. 

He merely shrugged his shoulders. “I’m sure the police can handle the troubles themselves for a day or more.” 

You chuckled and his features softened when he heard your laugh. You flinched when he suddenly carried you bridal-style in his arms after he stuffed his gloves and mask into his pocket. 

“Now that we’re done here, it’s time to go home, shall we?” He asked, looking down at you with a loving smile. 

“Indeed, we shall, Spiderman.”

[thesightstoshowyou]

Don’t Overthink It

John Hancock (Fallout 4) x F Reader (NSFW)

Summary: Hancock invites you back to his place for a drink and some fun.

Warnings: Implied that reader is a sex worker, talk of drug use, sexual tension and silly flirting, Hancock is a cunning linguist and a gentleman, some goofy moments, some sweet moments, mild exhibitionism, multiple orgasms.

Rain drips from the torn awning of the Hotel Rexford when you emerge. The streets of Goodneighbor glisten from the recent storm, the neon sign above giving the surrounding space an eerie red glow. Little streams of rainwater flow in the gutters to rinse away the refuse littering the street.

Your heels click on cracked concrete as you sidestep a puddle. The bag slung over your shoulder rattles with newly obtained caps when you adjust your dress. You’re set for the week now with what you made tonight.

A cool breeze rushes over your skin and a shiver skitters up your spine. You hadn’t thought to bring a coat; it had been much warmer earlier in the evening. Shaking out your hair, you sigh and steel yourself for the walk home. Your feet are already killing you.

Across the street, two Triggermen send shy glances in your direction. You wink and waggle your fingers, a coy wave. One quickly turns away while the other offers a tentative greeting. Quietly, you chuckle, amused by how quickly even gangsters can turn into teenage boys.

In the distance, a familiar, gruff voice calls your name. A smile stretches across your face. “Aw, if it isn’t my favorite ghoul,” you greet as Hancock strolls down the lane toward you. “Hi there, Mr. Mayor.”

“Favorite, huh?” he replies, sidling up next to you and slipping an arm around your waist. You’re grateful for his body heat, a respite from the chill, but his clothes are damp, like he’d been waltzing carefree through the storm. The caustic scent of ozone typical of a ghoul hangs heavy around him, made more obvious by the rain. Hancock’s head tips back and lolls to the side a little, telling you he’s sailing on chems.

Your fingers hook into the collar of his jacket and you reach up to adjust his hat before it takes a tumble. “Mmm hmm. You’re at the top of my list,” you purr, a grin pulling at the corners of your mouth.

A drop of chilly water drips from his hat onto your cheek and you flinch and laugh, only to squeal and attempt to wriggle away when Hancock shakes his head to shower you. “You’re all wet!” you chastise, playfully smacking him in the arm.

“Heh, not wet enough,” he murmurs, raising rad-scarred brows.

“Is that an innuendo, Mayor?”

“Could be. You working, babe?” he questions, shamelessly allowing his dark gaze to rove over your body.

“I was. Just finished.” A pleased hum rumbles in his throat at your response.

“Where you headed?” His other hand joins its twin around your waist and he pulls you flush against him. He’s handsy today, always is when he’s flying, but you don’t mind. Hancock has never laid a finger on you that you didn’t want.

“Depends on who’s asking,” you quip. As you speak, your pointer finger smooths down a divot in his neck. You feel his chest lift against your palm, a quick intake of breath at the contact.

“Your favorite ghoul’s asking, sweetheart.”

“I don’t really know what it is he’s asking though.” You bite the inside of your cheek to keep your giggle contained. Hancock narrows his eyes in what would be a menacing gesture if not for the dopey grin plastered on his face.

“He’s asking you to come have a drink with him.” You hum in feigned enlightenment.

“Sure, I’m up for that. The Third Rail?” you ask, half-turning to make your way down the street. Hancock tugs you back against him and shakes his head.

“Nah. My place.”

You quirk an eyebrow. The Old State House? That’s new.

“Just what are you hinting at, Mayor?” you tease, a scandalized look crossing your face.

“Getting real tired of your questions, doll,” Hancock jokes. He clears his throat and leans in closer, so close you can feel the warmth of his breath ghosting across your lips. “I ain’t hinting anything, baby. I’m asking if you wanna come back to my place, get drunk, and fuck.”

“Oh,” you squeak, all playfulness leaving your expression as your cheeks heat up. You weren’t expecting something so straightforward, though you suppose Hancock is never one to beat around the bush. The chems have emboldened him, you guess. Though, does he mean—

“And just to be clear,” he continues like he can read your mind. One of his hands raises to cup your face so a rough thumb can stroke your cheek, “I ain’t talking about a business arrangement. I wanna fuck you cuz I like you.”

The air suddenly feels much warmer than it had a moment ago. You wonder if this is just some impulsive, chem-induced fancy. Perhaps he happened upon you and decided, in the moment, he wanted some company for the evening. Hancock is an instinct driven guy, after all. Or is this something that has been on his mind for some time?

And…does it matter?

You like Hancock. He’s charming, funny, and a hero to the people here in Goodneighbor. Going home with him sounds like a much better way to spend your evening compared what you had planned. It seems like a no-brainer, so why are you hesitating?

“You’re thinking too hard, doll.” You huff a laugh when Hancock brushes a damp strand of your hair out of your face.

“You caught me off guard,” you tell him honestly.

“I could sober up a little and take you on a date first, if you’d rather do it that way,” he comments with a shrug. You can’t suppress the surprised sound his words bring. He’s serious about this.

All at once, that constricted feeling in your chest evaporates and you give his jacket a little tug. “Maybe next time. I’d love to join you for a drink, Mr. Mayor.” The overjoyed expression that takes over his face makes your heart flutter like bird wings.

“Right this way, love.”

**

The two of you don’t even make through the door.

The drag of his gnarled lips against yours raises goosebumps along your skin. He holds your face and backs you up against the doorway to his room. The tricorn hat topples off his head and lands somewhere behind him, forgotten. Your fingers tighten around the ruffles of his shirt and a breathy moan slips from your mouth when he sucks on your bottom lip.

“You smell so fucking good,” he rasps as his lips move to your neck. One hand tangles in your hair while the other slips past your waist and over your hip. Hancock palms a handful of your ass, grunting when you brush your thigh between his legs. Teeth on your pulse make you gasp and arch against him.

Suddenly, he drops to his knees. Already breathless, you watch as he scoops up one of your feet to peel your heel off and toss it over his shoulder. “Bet that feels better, huh?” he rumbles, grinning up at you as he slips off your other shoe. You’re so endeared by the thoughtful gesture you can’t help but laugh as you nod.

Hancock winks and turns his attention to your legs. Rough hands catch on your stockings when he smooths his palms over your calves. Inching higher, he pushes the hem of your skirt up to your hips, but stops short to groan at the sight of your garter belt.

“You’re killing me, babe,” he purrs. He plants a kiss to the welt of your stocking, then trails his lips higher. He only pauses to quickly yank your panties down and off. Hooking one of your legs over his shoulder, he dives right in, the flat of his tongue laving through your folds and over your clit. You suck in air through your teeth and your head falls back against the door with a muted thud.

Hancock moans, open-mouthed against your cunt like a starving man digging into his first meal in days. The vibration of his husky voice combined with enthusiastic way he wiggles his head and nurses on your clit has you all but humping his face in minutes. Your nails dig into his shoulders as you mewl and bow forward, pleasure coiling tight in your belly.

“You’re gonna make me cum,” you whine as you tense, toes curling. Hancock responds by sucking harder and grabbing your ass with both hands to pull you closer. A high-pitched, breathy, “Fuck,” escapes you as your eyes roll back, the coil unwinding and sending rolling waves of heat cascading through you.

“Give me another one, baby,” he orders before resuming his ministrations. This time, he slips two fingers into your fluttering cunt and curls them, rubbing circles until you see stars.

“S-s-shit! Han—

You can’t finish, a cry overtaking your vocal cords when you cum again. Your hips twitch as pleasure surges through your belly, up your back, and down your thighs. “Ohhhh my god,” you groan, sighing contentedly when you slump back against the door.

“That’s my good fucking girl,” Hancock praises, wiping his mouth on the back of his arm. You taste yourself when he jumps to his feet and crushes his lips to yours in a heated kiss. Giggling and near drunk on pleasure, you push his jacket off his shoulders before moving to work open his pants.

A strained sound sticks in his throat when your fingers trace the hot flesh of his cock. You hum and nibble on his lip as he hastily shimmies out of his pants. They get caught on his boots, but he doesn’t seem to care as he lifts you clean off the ground. You wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck.

“Mind if I ruin that pretty pussy?” Hancock questions against your lips, the corners of his own curling up in a smirk.

“Don’t make me wait anymore,” you whisper, bucking to grind against his length. Hancock wastes no time in angling his hips and easing his girth into your slick channel. The stretch is mind-numbing, the texture of his cock flawlessly stimulating every single trigger within you.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” he slurs. His mouth falls open and you both moan in unison when he ruts into you. The door bangs against the wall when he does it again. He pins you there to keep it open before starting up a feverish rhythm, and soon the room fills with repetitive slaps and wanton sighs.

Your lips find the gnarled flesh of his neck and whimper against it, every thrust driving more and more pathetic sounds from your throat. Hancock groans deep in his chest and shakes his head. Fingers grip your hair to pull your face out of the crook of his neck.

“Not loud enough. Nobody down on the street is gonna hear how sweet you sound at this rate.”

You snort and meet his half-lidded gaze. “Isn’t it your job to make me scream though?”

A throaty chuckle greets your words, then, “That a challenge?” Even though it’s phrased like a question, you know he isn’t asking. Clumsily, he kicks off the pants pooled around his ankles and nearly drops you, which sends you both into a fit of laughter.

“Hang tight, we’ll get there,” he jokes as you carries you into his room and collapses onto a sofa. Your tittering is cut off when his lips find yours again. He rolls you into your back, tosses your legs over his shoulders, and gives one harsh thrust that forces a noisy keen up and out of you.

“That’s more like it,” he growls. His hands grip your hips to hold you in place so he can hammer you into the cushions. It’s not difficult to give him the screaming he wants.

A third climax blindsides you. You writhe and shake, seized by euphoria and Hancock’s embrace. He utters a pinched, “Fuck, fuck, fuck-“ before leaning back to rip his cock from your cunt. Through your daze, you barely register the wet clicking of his hand as he pumps his orgasm, warm and sticky, all over your belly.

Heavily, Hancock sighs and drops his forehead to your sternum to catch his breath. The heaving of his chest mirrors your own. You smooth your hands down his nape and gently rake your nails back up again, content to just bask in the afterglow.

Gradually, Hancock works his way over to your side so you can rest your head on his shoulder. He’s quiet for a long while and you open your mouth to tease him about it until he suddenly says, “I’ve been thinking for a long time about doing exactly what we just did.”

Curious and surprised, you lift your head to look into his black eyes. A little grin tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Really?” you ask. He nods, his fingers tracing up and down your arm. “How long?”

“Remember when you kissed me at the New Year’s party?” You blink in shock and chuff out an incredulous laugh.

“I almost forgot about that. That was, like—

“Eight months ago,” he finishes for you. Baffled, you stare at him and wonder why your heart is beating so fast.

“Why did you wait so long?” you question finally, a bewildered smile on your face.

“Dunno. Overthinking it, maybe. You seemed happy doing your own thing. I didn’t wanna fuck that up.” His chest rises and falls with a deep breath before he continues, “But then I saw you standing there tonight and I just…. You looked so beautiful with the rain and the light and…you know, the chems.” You giggle which makes him grin wider. “Just felt like it was the right moment, you know?”

You smile softly while Hancock groans and drags a hand down his face. “Sorry, doll, I guess that last hit turned me into a fuckin’ sap.”

“It’s sweet,” you murmur.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you whisper with a nod. Gently, he strokes your cheek and pulls you in for another kiss. Your lips part to allow his tongue to swirl against yours while your palm smooths across his chest.

Suddenly, he breaks the kiss with a, “Fuck, I’m hard again.” You bark out a laugh and Hancock moves to sit up. “I should probably get that drink I promised.” You grab his arm to stop him.

“I don’t need it.” Your teeth tease your bottom lip. A wolfish smirk greets your words.

“Then I’m all yours, love.”

[rizsu]

gojo's somewhat nonchalant attitude will soon be the death of him. he does care, really, but if something isn't deemed worthy of his attention, he's going to treat it like nothing.

and that's the reason why you're so upset. he never listens. he thinks of your arguments as nagging. your worries to him are useless. why do you bother him when you know he loves you and you only? how many times must he show this? it's getting tiring.

like a lamp for moths, gojo's eye-catching appearance attracts men and women alike. he's an art that they want but can't. like a museum to the general public: you can look but you are not permitted to touch.

tonight you've both agreed on a date. it was nothing too extravagant—just two adults walking through their city, enjoying the night markets and bars. tonight was beautiful, the comforting feeling gojo brings you can't be placed into a sentence. his aura, for you, feels like a gift from above. a gift to you. but alas, not everything can escape the prison of jealousy. at the end of the day, human's crave what they can't have. they crave others' belongings. they feed off the feeling of obtaining something that'll never be theirs. simply filthy.

as if gojo was the newest toy on display, many wanted him. slowly, they consumed him and completely directed his attention away from you. to say you were offended is an understatement. you found yourself seething coming to the end. perhaps it was the alcohol's effect but gojo sure did enjoy the touches of the ladies. the suggestive way this one lady would slide her fingers up and down his bicep as if it's some kind of fidget toy. maybe the alcohol's working on you too but witnessing someone touch what's yours left a sour taste lingering.

you tried to tell him how you felt. you both always agreed that communication is the better option if any felt that an argument is creeping up. but to your dismay, not everyone's going to abide by the set rules. gojo just wanted to get home and he had no patience left to deal with your insecure nagging. with a headache swirling in him, he wanted nothing more than the soft mattress to engulf him.

“satoru, please just listen to me!” “quit it now.”

you're taken aback. his tone lowered. he did not dare to raise his voice yet it felt as though he yelled that he's sick of you. you know it's just your mind twisting his words but it stings. you wish he'd hear you—or rather, you wish you can turn back time and keep your words to yourself. is your concern really nothing but buzzing in his ears? sure, you admit, you're being stupid but still. you know and you don't need to be told that. as of right now, all you need is reassurance from him. all that's needed is for him to radiate his body's warmth on you. nothing more, nothing less. almost like a fixed law, humans are unable to get all their wants. you weren't able to get him tonight.

exhaling a shaky breath, you walk past him without a glance. swallowing hard to prevent the tears from ever dripping down. gojo watches you until your silhouette became one with the shadows from his view. the altercation from last night until now upgraded his headache. he needs some water.

gojo knows what's wrong with you. he knows you didn't like the way others mingled around him but he didn't do anything. again, he knows you know he loves nothing but you. loyalty is what gojo admires the most; he'd be damned if he ever became a cheater.

swirling the glass of water, he slouches on the chair, sighing at the unwanted replay of your reactions. just by the way you tottered past him he can tell you were close to crying. maybe you really were crying. but he can't—he just can't feel guilty. his headache is too far in for him to care about anything but getting rid of this godforsaken thing. he swears he'll apologize later. bouquets, sweets, money—anything you want as an apology he'd get. just wait for him, he'll be there.

[serotonins-stuff]

NAUGHTY LIST | Choso *. '-♡︎

♥︎ . • ° • . • ° • . •°♥︎

♡︎Sypnosis: Your bofriend is supposed to be helping you decorate early for christmas but instead he gets distracted (wink) ` °.*

♡︎Warnings: Praise, Ass slapping, Penetration, Finger usage, praise. (very nsfw |mdni)

♡︎Includes: Choso being a whimpery dom.

° . • . °. • . • ° • °. '. . *. °♡︎

You never thought that setting up the Christmas tree with Choso would be this difficult.

The man could hardly keep his hands to himself while watching you decorate the tree in your cute little pajama shorts. He stared at your ass without shame, getting more excited when he saw the curve of your cheeks peeking out whenever you bent over to grab something.

"Baby, are you gonna help or just feel me up all night?" You huffed from where you sat between his legs, your back against his chest with his hands on your waist, right above the waistband of your shorts as he fought the voices telling him to just pick you up and have you right there.

You were so cute like this, so focused and set on spending quality time with him.

Meanwhile, you were untangling the lights that were supposed to go on the tree, pouting as your boyfriend was no help at all considering he couldn't keep his hands to himself. Though you had to admit that having him there was comforting, but also distracting.

"C'mon beautiful don't get all serious on me now" he teased, fiddling with the hem of your shorts and placing kisses along your neck. "There's still like another month till Christmas"

"It doesn't hurt to get into the Christmas spirit early" You scowled, trying your best to focus on the task at hand which was impossible with him touching you like that.

"In that case" he hummed, rummaging around the box beside him before pulling out mistletoe and holding it above you both. He didn't even give you a minute to process anything before turning your head to the side by your chin, pulling you into a deep and needy kiss that had you feeling dizzy.

Your soft lips fit so perfectly in his, accepting the rough kiss he had pulled you into.

While one hand was on your jaw, the other slid up your stomach and attached itself to your nipple. Pinching and fondling the soft flesh, as it slowly started to harden in his grasp. He was amused at how quickply your body responded to his touch.

You didn't stop him, instead you just melted into the kiss, letting your tongue mingle with his as a small trail of saliva dripped from the corner of your mouth. You let your worries about the tree slip away momentarily and moved your ass against him, earning a very pleased groan. He responded by grinding into you which made you aware of how needy he was when you felt the hard bulge against your skin.

One hand slipped into the waistband of your shorts, and he cupped your pussy in his palm before curling his fingers to make contact with your soaked clit. You twitched from the contact, grinding yourself onto his fingers to obtain further friction. He didn't stop you from grinding onto his fingers, instead, he just let you do your thing and watched you hazily as your hips rolled seductively. Putting him in some sort of trace that he did not mind being entangled in.

The fact that you were oozing with arousal must mean that you've been feeling just as needy as he did, but you didn't want to show it. Its looks like all his teasing had worked after all, because here you were, a writing and whimpering mess beneath him and he didn't even have to move a finger.

When he started rubbing your sensitive clit in fast circles, shivers went up your spine from the contact. Your toes were curled, feet restless from the motion. It felt too good, and your legs began to close.

"I want you to spread wide" he lured in your ear before hooking his legs around yours and separating them manually. Having you spread wider than you had before. He loved how pliable you were beneath him, how he could just move your body into any position he wanted and you'd comply just like the good girl you were.

His hands felt magical against you, every touch sending you into a deeper wave of pleasure.

You were squirming even more, your breath quickening from the feeling building up in your abdomen. He rubbed your clit faster, burying his face into your neck to encourage you.

"C'mon sweetheart" he cooed, looking down at the dark spot beginning to form on your pants. The lewd act of his fingers being hidden by the material.

"Cho~ I'm gonna-" you gasped, writhing and shuddering in his grasp as your orgasm hit you like a truck, tingles coursing throughout your body as you felt your sense of self slip away. You arched your back and gasped, a pair of lips catching yours as the pleasure subsided and became overstimulation which caused you to pull his hand away.

Your pussy was still aching with pleasure, clenching with delight as you imagined what would happen to you next. How Choso was now probably going to have his way with you.

"Aww tired already?" He teased, "But we just got started"

You didn't say a word, you just sat there breathless and aroused. Whining when you suddenly felt his warmth move away from your back.

He was on his knees behind you and you could just feel the intensity of his hooded gaze without having to look at him. In an instant his arms were around you, lifting you slightly so that you were also on your knees.

"You did this..." he breathed in your ear, slowly pulling down the material of your shorts "Just to tease me didn't you?"

Your breathing got heavier when the material was discarded, leaving your lower body bare.

"These shorts" he said in amusement "The constant bending over and fidgeting in my lap"

He reeled his hand back, pausing before bringing back to land a harsh slap on your ass. You jumped from the contact, hissing as you could feel the stinging pain lingering on your asscheek. You loved it when he manhandled you like this, when he decided to use you in whatever way he saw fit.

"Bend over" his deep voice sounded in your ear. Goosebumps littered your skin, and you wasted no time in following that order. Your face was down against your arms and your ass lifted high up into the air.

Choso could've swore he was enjoying Christmas early.

Your cunt was glistening with arousal, your clit swollen from earlier and your hole throbbing, just begging him to fuck you.

The unbuckling of his belt could be heard, and right after that was a thump, which you were guessing was his pants. You couldn't contain the wiggle of your ass from the fate which was about to be bestowed on you. He sighed when his dick sprung to life after being freed from its confinement. It was pulsating, veins clear as he lined his tip at your entrance.

He groaned from the simple contact, finding it pleasurable to just slide it up and down your wet slit.

"Cho-" you sighed from his relentless pleading "Please I-Ip need you"

He couldn't say no to that sweet voice of yours, so just like you asked him to he filled your hole in an instant, and you moaned in unison because it just felt too good. For a second, he relished the feeling of your warm walls spasming around him, and he just couldn't help but almost completely pull out and slam into you repeatedly with no warning. Sending you and himself into an overload of pleasure with every thrust.

Your pussy welcomed him with warmth, and he wanted nothing more than to feel you clench around him while screaming his name.

You were a whining mess beneath him, not even being able to form a single word from the intense euphoric ride. Just as you thought it couldn't get better he held you up so that your chest was against his, putting one of his hands down to your sensitive clit while the other busied itself with your breast.

His mouth was right next to your ear, making you even more arounsed as you listened to the soft whimpers leaving his lips.

"Say my name pretty" he whined "Tell me how good you feel"

You were dazed, vision hazy as a smoldering feeling built up once more in your stomach. It was good, the way it built up slower with his thrusts and ministrations.

"Cho... feels so-" you gasped, struggling to even form a coherent sentence

You let your mouth fall agape as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, the feeling was too good, getting stronger as your body started burning up with the heat of passion, searing you with the sensation before it exploded.

"That's my pretty girl" he whimpered, cursing at the tightening of your pussy around his cock "Going dumb on my cock like the good girl you are him?"

"Fuck" he cursed as a thick stream of cum shot out of him and filled you up, the white liquid streaming down your leg as Choso chanted your name over and over again.

The both of you stayed in that position for a while, and if your boyfriend wasn't holding onto you, you were sure your legs would give out on you. You could feel his heart pounding against your back, his chest moving up and down in a heavy manner.

He kissed the side of your forehead and smiled.

"Looks like we'll be making it on the naughty list this Christmas" he panted and you smiled softly.

"Uh huh" you giggled "Looks like it"

• • • • • •

A/n

Thank you so much for 400 followers, you guys are seriously the best.

Tomorrow's the last day of my exams, so be prepared for more stories!!

Likes, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!!

√•^•√

[nxtaliaistyping]

Just Cooper Adams putting cameras in your apartment <3

18+ nsfw, non consensual filming

He's always looking out for your safety, he's a gentleman in that way. Never lets you walk next to the road, always is alert and on the lookout when you both are in a public setting, always having a firm grip on your waist when you go anywhere together.

So when he pays for you to have a nail appointment, you're gushing over him for being so kind, so sweet, so gentlemanly. With a smile he returns the hug, his expression unbroken and unfeeling as he waves you off. With you occupied, he can let himself into your apartment easily, rolling his shoulders before getting to work.

Obtaining the small surveillance cameras had been easier than he expected, the perfect size to be hidden in plain sight. He rigs them up, some in your living room, your bedroom, your bathroom. Connecting them all to his phone, he grins as he sees the live feed of himself on his screen. Perfect.

And of course you don't notice when you return, settling in as he explained he was busy tonight. Going about your routine, your mundane activities, not knowing you were being watched.

"Look at her, isn't she just a doll?"

The terrified man squirms, tied to the chair with tape fixed over his mouth as he glances at the phone thrust in front of him. Cooper grins with a selfish pride, forcing his victim to watch you as you sat on the sofa on your phone, pajamas showing your thighs in a way that's so tantalizing to the butcher.

"Come on, you agree don't you? Nod if you agree."

Scared beyond belief, the man nods quickly, sweat dripping from his forehead. Cooper looks at him before glancing back at his phone. You adjust yourself on the cushions, laying back a little which gives him a better view of your chest.

"Yeah, she's a similar age to you. Maybe you would have been friends, not that you'll ever know of course."

Oblivious to what your lover is currently up to, you stay sat on the sofa, time passing by pretty quickly as you doomscroll idly. However a text message from Cooper cuts through the noise of social media, and you tap to bring it up. You swear your heart beats faster immediately as you see the picture; his obvious bulge in his black jeans, with his big hand holding his belt.

You squirm immediately, panties dampening as you hurriedly text back a response. When you both started sleeping together, he didn't quite understand the art of sexting. But you'd explained what you liked, and how it could be fun for the both of you when you had to be apart (and even sent a lot of photos of your own to prove your point).

Cooper smirks, watching your reaction in real time, his hair damp with sweat. Killing really can take it out of you. He notices how you haven't commented on the stain present on his jeans, maybe you didn't notice or thought it was something mundane. He'd tried to rub most of the blood off, but unfortunately the mark remained.

It was aggravating him to not be able to clean, to wash and get himself back to looking presentable. But the ache in his cock needed to be fixed, as he hurriedly sought to free himself. His phone vibrates with a call from you, and he answers and places it on loudspeaker, so he can continue to watch you on the camera feed.

"Oh honey, did that picture make you all hot and bothered?" he coos, and at your confirmation he continues, "Was thinking about you, that's why. You always get me like this."

You bite your lip, phone to your ear as your hands go down your body. But Cooper can't have that just yet.

"Are you touching yourself?" he asks, feigning ignorance.

"Not yet." you say, your hands stopping at your thighs. Oh good girl.

"Do you want to? I can give you permission."

You beg eagerly, which he delights in hearing and seeing. Once he does, he watches closely as you tug down your shorts and eagerly dip your fingers between your legs. He groans, fisting his cock to the sight.

"Aren't you gonna ask what i'm wearing?" you tease, to which he laughs.

"Of course sweetheart, what are you wearing tonight?"

You tell him, rubbing circles on your clit as he smirks darkly at your image. He tells you how much he misses you, how much he needs you while he jerks his cock to how you desperately squirm on your own sofa.

A part of him does feel like a pervert, but how could he deny himself such a delicious view? Besides, he's really keeping you extra safe. He more than anyone understands how dangerous the world really is, how cruel it can be to such a pretty young thing. Why shouldn't he take extra precautions when it comes to you? And if gets something out of it well...surely that's just a bonus.

"Doing so good for me honey, so so good. Always a good girl f'me, isn't that right?"

He can observe how his praise makes you move your fingers faster, whimpering into your phone. Feeling his orgasm build, he demands you to touch your chest for him, delighting when you obey. Your smaller fingers groping at your tits, pinching your nipples at his instructions to make you gasp.

"Yeah, gonna make me cum baby. God you look so fucking pretty."

If you weren't so close to cumming, you'd have picked up on his word choice, but it's hard when it feels like your brain is leaking out of your cunt. You orgasm with a breathy whine, tipping him over the edge as he spills all over his hand. Wincing a little at the mess, he looks at you for a final time. God you look so pretty, lips parted as your breathing returns to normal, pulling up your shorts.

"Clean up sweetheart, i'll be home soon."

[anantaru]

YOU MISSED A SPOT

— ꒰ synopsis ꒱ — kaveh loves to be intimate with you, yet in his eyes there's nothing that's possibly better than cleaning you up real good afterwards.

— ꒰ word count ꒱ — 1.4k

— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — [ex]plicit, fem! reader, unprotected and a bit rough, messy, oral (fem! receiving), cum eating, a little feral kaveh, he's just feeling himself

"y-yes.. this feels good."

two large palms generously shifted you in a most flaming direction while you began to archly choke upon your own boiling hot pants at the dizzy impact being placed on you, "please faster!" and not a single tender inch of you had been untouched because it was him who was sensibly handling you this night.

when kaveh closes the space and brims you half way, a twisted moan pries off his very lips, but he leaves his crushing cock inside of you because he requires you to taste him— each pivotal twitch of his veins or how your soft walls had been settling around his girth, the pumps he'd fill you with were so unbelievably skilled that it had you squeeze unawarely around him, once, twice, truly countless.

"fuck— so pretty." he laments unmindfully and drags himself deeper with the filthy squelching sounds of your cunt growing by a tenfold, much to his own keening pleasure. Kaveh admires you, all of you— his crimson eyes? they were so considerate, humane, peacefully cruising over your thumping chest where he followed your fingers playing with your stiff nipples.

"please, kaveh." you giddily mewl at him and keep your serious attention to where your warm bodies webbed into one another, deliberately emerging embarrassed by how increasingly smudged his leaking cock had gotten from your dripping liquids alone. "i'm so so close."

the outflowing sight of you was so unquestionably lewd and dirty, he essentially needed to gulp his budding saliva down additionally to get proper rid of the awful tie sprouting deep in his strained throat. Not at all was kaveh solely burning and hungry for your pretty figure or dominating shadows, but your weeping pussy that was made for him— he had been sure that this was the single case at hand.

from your acquired intimate position now— with handsome kaveh overpowering you from above, he eminently presses himself in your cunt. Little do you realize, you had gotten an immaculate view on his well carved stomach, his flawless firm muscles and how each curve was settled with sweat. Your glassy eyes roll back when he further forces his swollen length into your walls— an inch faster, more unparalleled, hotly sinking into your undiscovered places you never were able to guess could be reached in the first place.

at bottom, your glossy cunt took him flawlessly, like an obedient darling, guzzling him in without a single thought being wasted— because truthfully speaking, no words couldn't possibly describe this moment. Yet, humorously enough, in a way it was simple, being intimate with each other, but it wasn't the same experience when it's with someone who inhaled each and every square of your beauty, markedly when he too, viewed you as unconditional perfection in his glowing vermillion eyes.

"now, now." kaveh deeply hums into his sizzling chest and made sure to devilishly emphasize his falsely innocent words with a fastened push against your plump cunt, daringly obtaining all the slicked arousal on his lower area when gifting you another pointed shove in your core, one more, kaveh desired to be drowned by the honeyed sense of listening to the mess you made— which, evidently, he was the cause of it. "fuck— there!"

remarkably fueled by the inner burning lust, kaveh declines into your perspiring skin and heaves you to himself, his sizable hands swiftly trawling your face to him so he could sloppily kiss you while crowding you— jamming his milky whites into your insides within a brimming embracement as he dug his tip in greater.

you whine out in packed bliss, your frame fervently shuffling on all ends when you chargingly clinched onto him with your fingernails digging straight dagger like pain into his delicate back.

kaveh leaves you to it— he baths in seeing you so stimulated by his cock when boundless butterflies crossed your stomach as you released on his member.

you appeared fucked out with your eyes hanging low, even more eminently when your dampened back vaulted off the soiled mattress to accessorize the twisted movements of your body— it had a significant hold on you, the tasteful overstimulation of the somewhat fluttering sensation catching you in the best possible way.

those exposed and biting moments after, when kaveh keeps himself locked inside of your stretched hole. A ritornelle of ponderous pants were traded by you yet none of you decided to bury the silence for a minute— you settled to carry on and rest into each others comfort, hugged close and intermeshed in your arms.

you lean into his soaked neck and his little hair strands tickle your nose, severing out a feebly smile form your lips, "i'm not done yet." kaveh states bluntly, tracing his tender hand over your hips to pull himself off you— though keeping his cock buried in the mess, knowing that if he were to pull out of you now, all the tasty sweetness would just go to waste, really, "wait, you already want to go for another round?"

"no, don't worry love, not now at least." you laced your eyes on your boyfriend with a lost assertion. "you need to rest." kaveh was cautious when he dragged his— still part erect cock, out, next expertly squeezing your sore thighs into your chest to have a much finer view of your fluttering hole.

"i hate seeing it leave you." he shamelessly admits without moving a mere muscle on his face— you didn’t know if he meant his cum or his cock, maybe it’s the hatred of both of them leaving your sensitive cunt. He humorously places his cock on your clit to tap his red tip on your inflamed pussy, handling you daintily.

"it's too good to be wasted, don't you think?"

you lock your lower lip in between your teeth and watch kaveh decline his face down south, firstly planting a wet kiss on your sweaty chest, next keeping his attention there to trail down your pretty cleavage, lowering once further to your stomach until his head was finally in between your parted legs— his exhaled breath ghosting right above your slicked up core.

unbeknownst to anything that was currently happening, you look at him in straight disbelief, "what are you— ah!" and abruptly whine with your entire body uncontrollably jolting up when he experimentally licked a sloppy line in between your puffy folds. "wha— kaveh!"

"closer, i want you closer." he whispers into your pussy, you knew exactly what he was referring to and kept your hips lifted up. He squeezed your thighs in his palms and obediently cleans up the oozed out arousal of your hole, yours and his own mixed up milky liquids stretching on his tongue. "fuck— you're crazy." you let your hand fall on the back of his head to shamelessly grind your clit into his nose that was repeatedly nuzzling past the flesh.

"no i‘m starving." kaveh mutters with the lower vibrations of his voice webbing a newfound pleasing into your core. He glares up at you for once to watch your shy expression, you wouldn't know but you looked absolutely sexy in his eyes, when you nervously wetted your lips and heaved in short trembles, still exhausted but additionally aroused by this.

the sharp taste of his own cum with your juices was just as he expected, newish but driven with burning hunger. His eyes roll back when you moan out his name in stitched together letters, mewling out babbles, which you weren't sure what you were trying to voice in the first place.

kaveh's tongue kept up on proficient tempo and smoother down on your entrance where the most slick was gathered at, quickly fizzling his slimy muscle in and relaxing his jaw, dragging his tongue in circles while almost forgetting to breathe out properly, turning his eyes watery from both lust and a foggy mind.

you bite back the upcoming moans unthinkably while holding his head soundly in between your legs with his end goal being exposed now.

he’s shuffling his tongue on all the right places until you're entirely cleaned up and ready to go on for yet another round, so he can later drop another thick load into you, grounding his whites into your insides until his ribbons of white settled around you completely, covering you in his seed.

after that, kaveh will repeat the new, yet sinfully intriguing and perverted motion once again.

©2023 anantaru do not share, copy, translate any of my work

[kentosovertime]

(n.) a homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of your past

➳ reformed fuckboy!gojo x afab!reader - 3.8k

➳ a/n: just got done saying how fun it is to write gojo platonically but fuck that he's my little slut~

➳ cw: explicit content, explicit language, multiple sex scenes, choking, unprotected sex, longing, reader leaves gojo in the dust, one night stand or so he thinks, mentions of alcohol, snowed in trope

✨Masterlist | Tag List | Ask Box | Open Request Event | AO3 | Ko-Fi✨

“Do you want to get out of here?” The white haired sorcerer leans into your space where you’ve been nursing the drink he purchased for you, not wanting to seem too interested. 

Gojo Satoru, you hum to yourself in thought. Notorious fuck boy of the jujutsu world. There was a dark, predatory promise in his eyes and you knew that the scratch you came out to itch would be satisfied if you went home with him but… You were up for consideration of promotion from a Grade 1 sorcerer to a special grade. You didn’t want to ruin that or make it seem like you slept your way there, especially given how few obtain the title. 

“I don’t know…” You shoot him a sly smile, swirling the liquid around your glass. “Is it my turn in line now?”

“Come on, baby girl. It’s not like that.” His smile doesn’t drop as he gently grabs you by the wrist and lays a teasing kiss on your open palm. “I can’t help myself when I see a beautiful, strong woman who’s so pent up. You need to blow off steam.”

Goosebumps race up your arm where his lips brush against your palm again before nipping at your skin, sending the sensation straight to your core.

“What makes you my best option?” You lean forward, playfully trailing a finger down his black casual t-shirt before tossing your gaze over to Nanami sitting across the local bar. “Your light haired friend has been looking at me all night. Maybe I’ll go home with him instead.”

“Because…” He crowds into where you’re standing, making your face tip back to meet his gaze as he purrs down at you. “You’re not rubbing those lush thighs together with anyone here but me.” 

Your breathing stutters out as he leans forward and trails his nose up your neck, his heavy breaths panting against your sensitive skin. 

“I bet this is making your little cunt drip.” His touch meets the side of your breast, thumbing you through the fabric of your dress. “You can be greedy, baby. I won’t complain.” 

“F-fuck-” A whimper escapes your mouth despite your determination not to react. “You’re so crude.”

“I don’t hear you disagreeing with me.” He only grins wider when your words come out with no bite to them as you choke them out. You wish the rumors included that he was terrible in bed but that was never the case. 

“I’m not…” You chew on your cheek, making the worst decision of your life as you knock back your entire drink and meet his gaze directly. “Your place then?” 

Gojo’s eyes light up as he nods excitedly, half expecting to have to fight you further on this. 

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

A moan rips from his throat as you break from his lips to shove him to the surface of the bed, already flush with the multiple highs he pulled out of you by the time he shut the apartment door behind you. There was one in the cab ride home from his fingers and another in the elevator from his tongue alone. Your bare legs part as you straddle him, your pants lost somewhere in the journey to his bedroom.

“Sweetheart-” He hisses, his hips bucking as you take a hold of his slacks, unzipping them and shoving your hand into where there was a painfully obvious bulge. “Fuck, slow down. I want to take my time with you.” 

Your hand pumps the hard length of him, your thumb rubbing and paying attention to the tip that’s oozing globs of pre-cum as you settle yourself to hover over him, primed to sink down at a moment's notice. 

“I thought you brought me here to fuck me.” You smirk down at him, being your turn to gloat, basking in the impact you had on him. You circle your hips slowly, pushing just the tip of his cock into you, moaning softly as you chuckle at his low whine. “You should let me get on with it. Someone wanted me to be greedy.”

“Well yes, b-but- oh my fuck-” His head tilts back with a throaty moan as you suddenly sink down, taking his length in one motion before you’re grinding at a steady pace to build up your high as he grapples to hold onto your hips, his fingers digging into your skin, leaving crescent moons in their wake. 

“Shit, Sa-Satoru- Ah!” Your hands find their way to his chest, bracing yourself as you lean forward to bounce your hips to slide his glistening cock into your sensitive walls. A whimper escapes your lips each time he uses his grip to push you back down onto his cock harder, meeting your thrusts in the middle so you can feel the vibrations ricochet through your center, sending lightning up your spine. 

“Fuck, baby.” His muscles tense with the need to cum, but fuck he wants to enjoy this first. Your skin ripples with the squelching slaps that echo through the room as he braces his feet under him and fucks up into you hard, forcing his cock to bottom out each time. “You can hear your pussy sucking me deep.. B-bet it wants my cum… fuck.. I bet you want it more.”

“N-not yet.” You stammer breathlessly, your fingers dig helplessly into the pillow next to his head. “Want this to keep going.”

“Oh, really?” His hand flies out to grip you by the chin, to get your attention before he smacks your cheek and moves his free hand to smack your center harshly, pulling a rough scream from you that turns into a desperate sob as he continues the movement in his hips while zeroing in on your clit with terrible precision. “I say it's time to cum, baby girl… and make sure to scream my name when you do it. I want the neighbors to hear.”

“P-Please n-no-” You squirm wildly in his hold, as he grunts in frustration, ready to pin you to the bed to pull more out of you, overstimulating you as punishment. Your legs tremble, squeezing shut to prevent him from thrusting into you so harshly and he growls in need as he swaps your positions, holding you to the mattress by your neck and not missing a beat in his thrusting. 

“You think you’re the one in charge here?” He grits his teeth and doesn’t hold back as he brings you right to the edge, his fingers tightening as you get closer to make spot dance around your vision. “Fuckin’ give it to me baby. I want another one from you.”

“S-Satoru-!” Your hands claw at the wrist pinning your throat as a particularly hard thrust slams into you just right, making your vision go white. He watches with a satisfied grin as your eye rolls back and your breath stutters out in ragged whines as you soak his waist. 

“Nuh uh-” He grapples with your hips, pulling you back into him as he fucks you through your high, bullying himself past the vice grip of your cunt. “God you’re pussy so perfect for me. So f-fucking tight.. Where do you want it, baby girl? You gonna let me finish inside?” 

“Please-” Your voice cracks as you sob out for him needily, locking your legs around his waist so he’s forced to trade his long thrusts for a grinding motion. His pace stutters with a low whine before he slams himself into you one more time, burying himself deep as he shoots ropes of cum into you. 

You swear your ears are ringing with how long it's taking you to come down. What you don’t expect from him is how he gently rubs the side of your hip as he pulls out of you or how he removes your legs from around him before he dips down a leaves soft kisses on our inner leg before he disappears into a room attached to the bedroom. 

You start to shimmy yourself up, looking for where your clothing got thrown before he reappears with a hot washcloth. 

“Lay back down.” He grumbles with a slight pout, taking you by the leg to tip you back onto the mattress. You whimper out in embarrassment as he cleans your center and thighs and he simply chuckles at your distress. “Stop that… I can tell you’re about to pass out. Let me help before you go to sleep.”

You don’t have it in you to argue. You’re certainly not planning on staying here until the morning, but he doesn’t need to know that. 

You don’t argue when he picks you up bridal style to settle you in the soft array of his bed’s blankets. You find your eyes drooping almost immediately, drifting closed as you wrap your arms around a pillow that smells comfortingly like him.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Three years, four months, twenty-three days, and 13 hours since he woke up with you gone. Not that he was counting. 

That morning Gojo had woken up more satisfied than he had been in ages. His hand slid across his smooth sheets to wrap his arms around you and pull you to his chest only to come up empty. The purse he had set on the night stand with your clothing neatly folded next to it were gone from their place as well.

He frowns at the memory, expecting that you would have at least said goodbye. 

All this time must be penance for all of the women he had burned through and pushed out the door after their hookups. That was in the rare instance that he invited someone to his place, much preferring the ability to slip out someone’s front door in the dead of night like you had. Were the sheets that cold when the women had searched for him in the morning? 

Had it been hard for you? Did he make up how good that night was? He tortures himself by thinking about the what-ifs. He imagines that nothing like that has ever been difficult for you. You were so unashamed in taking what you wanted from him. In his deepest thoughts, he fantasizes you’re just as haunted by the memories you made that night and how perfectly your bodies fit together.

And later that day he thanks whatever higher power is out there when he receives a mission assignment for a special grade curse that had cropped up in Siberia and listed under his name was yours. 

He reminds himself of this joy as the two of you trudge through the snow of a blizzard after you had successfully landed a killing blow on the curse. They certainly got your promotion to a Special Grade correct.

On the way back down the mountain a snow storm had hit, leaving you stranded until the weather cleared.

“We should have asked the village for clearer directions back.” You snip at him, squinting against the onslaught of white in your vision. “Face it, we're lost.”

“I can teleport us…?” He suggests unhelpfully, happy to sit back and let your brain do its beautiful brain thing. 

“Not if you don’t know where we are first.” You sigh in exasperation. “Kill a special grade curse only to die from cold exposure. The higher ups certainly have a sense of humor.”

“What about that cabin?” He points over his shoulder to a mass he spotted in the snow, though he doubts you can see it without the Six Eyes.

He snatches your hand and pulls you along, not waiting for a response. He knows your shivering is starting to slow down which is never a good sign. 

“Oh thank fuck-” You groan and hurry inside as he hips the door open, quickly closing it to prevent the snow from entering the small space. 

You wrap your arms around yourself, rubbing your arms until they heat up enough to focus on the space around you. It was quaint, but fully stocked. The surface you were currently sitting on was a mattress covered in fur pelts and flannel blankets. It was shoved into the corner to make space for the wood stove that Gojo was currently crouching in front of, already getting the fire started.

“You’re g-g-good at that.” You shiver violently as you shed your soaked outer layer, trading it for one of the large flannel blankets. The second it's wrapped around you for cover you kick off your shoes and your pants, quickly pulling your legs underneath you so none of your skin is exposed to the air. 

“I think you give me too little credit in general.” He mumbles loud enough for you to catch it. 

You blink at him in shocked silence. Everything had been tense for your trip, the flight here was almost unbearable, let alone trekking through the snowy wilderness together. 

“You know…” He starts softly, tracking the sweat that drips down your neck as the hut quickly heats up. “Sometimes I’m convinced I hallucinated it all.” You don’t respond, but when he looks up, the flush on your cheeks is enough to confirm to him you’re thinking about the same thing. 

“I don’t think it was fair to leave like that…” He frowns, looking intently at his hands. “You didn’t even ask me what I wanted.”

“I know your reputation… this all seems a bit hypocritical if you ask me. You wanted to hookup and that’s fine. I wasn’t looking for anything-” You start before he cuts you off with a lost look.

“Maybe that’s how it started but… I was content to wake up with to you the next morning and you were gone before I could ask if you wanted to go out to breakfast.”

“I don’t know what to tell you…” You gulp, your heart hammering in your chest. You draw the blanket tighter around you, sweltering in the heat but needing the barrier between you and his blue gaze. 

Your cheeks only grow warmer at the memories of that night. How you would have loved to stay if he hadn’t been who he was. Not that he was Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer in hundreds of years, but that he went through women like a child who grew tired of his new toys.

You had never begged a man for anything in your life and you had decided that the night with him would be no exception to your rule. Leaving the bed where he had passed out had been one of the hardest things you had done in your adult life. You’d rather fight a thousand curses than have to do it again, but life wasn’t always fair. 

“Tell me you felt something between us. Tell me it wasn’t just me who felt right being near you.” He stands suddenly, walking the short distance to stand in front of you, his eyes pleading. 

“I… I c-can’t. You’re not going to change who you are for me-” Your voice cracks, betraying the storm of emotions swirling within your soul. 

He moves closer to you, leaning over your frame far enough to force you to fall back against the mattress and planting his hands on either side of your head. 

“I would if you gave me the chance.” His eyes are serious and you find that the look is strange gracing his face. 

“You’ve said that to a dozen women, haven’t you?” You feel yourself starting to shake, wanting his words to be true but you’re not going to let him hurt you. “Including the ones after me.”

“Never.” His voice is steady, as serious as his gaze as his brow furrow. “There hasn’t been anyone else since, baby. Please.”

“It's been over three years. You really expect me to believe that?” Your chest rises and falls faster as your breath picks up, shifting the blanket to fall open, exposing your chest to the air. 

“No, I don’t expect that. But I could convince you it’s actually true.” He leans in further, ghosting his nose up your jaw as he breathes in your scent with a low groan. “You could let me show you what you’ve been missing out on all this time waiting… Please.”

A breath hitches in your throat as he nips at your earlobe, his heavy breath hitting your skin, pulling goosebumps down your spine. Your words fail you, but your body doesn’t, acting on autopilot to take what it wants. 

Your hands let go of the blanket entirely, letting the flannel open entirely to expose where you had stripped down to just your bra and panties while you grip the back of his neck, pulling his lips to yours. 

Gojo moans low in your mouth, climbing fully on the bed to crawl over your prone form. He braces himself with one hand and sinks the other into your hair, tugging your head back to get a better angle to deepen and slow the kiss. 

His pace is worlds different from your first night together. The grip his hands have on you is firmer, more purposeful. Despite the time you had spent apart, he wasn’t rushing this like one the quick fucks you thought he favored. When his tongue pushes past your lips, eliciting a whimper from your throat, he doesn’t greedily lap at you. He swirls his tongue with careful precision, savoring the taste of you. 

“Satoru-” You whine as he leaves open mouthed kisses down the column of your neck. How could you properly convey to him how you were burning alive with the need for him to give you just a little bit more? 

“So greedy.” He chuckles into your neck, calling back to when he told you to be greedy that first night. “But I wanna take my time with you after waiting so long.”  

Any response dies on your lips when he makes his way down to your bra, tugging it to the side enough for your breasts to pop out, immediately latching onto one while his hand kneads the one he’s neglecting. 

“N-Now you’re just teasing me, Satoru.” You huff out a moan, pressing your legs together as you feel him smirk against your skin; the little shit. “At least take these off…” 

He helps you strip him bare, tossing the shirt into a heap across the hut, quickly followed by his pants and boxers after he kicks off his boots. You take the opportunity to shed your bra and panties, leaving you as bare as he is. Needy hands search him out as soon as he joins you back on the mattress with a chuckle. 

“Ya know… a little please and thank you will get you a long way, baby girl.” Shivers wrack your body as he trails his tongue down your stomach to the apex of your thighs, using his fingers to spread your folds, exposing you to his gaze. 

Your body squirms at the light touch, screaming for more friction. 

“Please fuck me.” You bite out, knowing he’s not going to listen to your request.

“Nice try.” A playful laugh rips through him before he leans in and licks a large stripe up your center before expertly flicking his tongue against your clit, pulling a string of curse from you as your body jolts and your hands fly out to grab him by the hair at his scalp. “That’s it, grind this sopping little cunt against my face baby.” He growls before diving back in, sucking down on you hard the second he shoves three fingers into you without warning. 

“Oh my fucking-! S-Satoru- ah! Fucking shit, pl-please-” Fingers bully into you, past your fluttering walls to find the spongey spot inside where they hammer into you until your eyes cross and your ears start ringing. “Satoru- pl-please can I- can I cum please?” Maybe begging will get you what you want at this point. Maybe it will break him down enough so he’ll shove your cock inside of you. “Good fucking girl. Cum for me baby…  make a mess out of this face.” He purrs deep in his throat. The vibrations work through you until your muscles shake with the effort of tensing before they snap inwards, making your back arch off the worn mattress, a hoarse scream ripping its way through your throat before the aftershocks start working through your body. 

You’re so deep in a subspace that you don’t feel him unlatching himself after he licks your cum clean and he’s shoving his cock into you without preamble. 

“Mmmph-! Fuck!” A cry leaves your mouth as you claw at his lower stomach, leaving angry red welts in your wake as you try desperately to get him to slow down so you can breathe, but you already feel another high building. 

“Ahhh… Not too much for my baby now is it?” He goads you on, grabbing at your thighs to push your legs closer to your chest. “You take me like you were born for it. Bet you’re still desperate for my cum aren’t you?”

“Fuck, please.” You pant out, trying to catch your breath as his brutal thrusts knock the air out of you each time. “M-missed your cum, ‘Toru. W-want it all.”

“Then you better give me one more baby…” The thrusts don’t falter in pace as his hand sneaks between the two of you. His hand presses into your lower tummy and his thumb reaches to rub quick circles into your bundle of nerves until you're thrown over the edge for the last time. 

White, blinding light floods your vision as Gojo moans low and lets your cunt squeeze him, pulling him deeper as he presses as close so he can to explode inside of you. 

When you come to, you’re gathered in his arms, his hands grazing carefully across your face as he wipes the sweat that formed there, tucking your hair behind your ear with a soft smile gracing his features. 

“You’re even more beautiful than that first night.” He hums to himself. “I didn’t think it was possible, but you always have had a way of crashing into my life and breaking down my assumptions.” 

“I think it's my assumption you’re destroying…” You lean into his touch, soaking up the attention you never thought you’d receive. 

You both lay there, enjoying the quiet moment you’ve carved for yourself out of this mission by happenstance. You let the storm rage on around you, letting yourselves forget what lies outside these mountains.

tag list: @sugarbooger513 @sugarmapoops @roughwithfluff @severelytalentless @yelzoldyck @silversslut @aazaard @dreamyyholland @wobblewobble822 @vantastic210 @rafzaha @tirzamisu @chososhoney @littlemochi @bebechinas99 @firdaoz @saoney @meromelo @pelicanpizza @sukunassoulmate @damncakie @katgalle @honeyyjems [[ if your blog name is crossed out i couldn't tag you]]

[hp-hcs]

(Fine, I’ll do it my damn self: part 5 of my silly lil mlm stories <3)

tmr is just babygirl i don’t make the rules

Watercolors (Chapter One) — tom riddle x male! artistic! hufflepuff! reader

he could manipulate and possess me thus irreversibly changing my trust in people despite it never being mentioned again and i would thank him

yk, i absolutely love chamber of secrets, but who starts a new diary (obtained under questionable circumstances) with ‘my name is’?

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Tom Marvolo Riddle had been stuck inside of his diary since he was sixteen years old.

The diary itself, inside, was a perfect replica of Hogwarts, the boundaries stretching out well into the Forbidden Forest. Perfect, except for the fact that it was made solely of parchment and ink, and was completely devoid of color or life.

Tom hated the color of parchment.

The diary passed hands many times over the five subsequent decades. First there was the pathetic, sniveling man—the Malfoy sycophant—who all but groveled at Tom’s feet (metaphorically, of course).

Next was the littlest Weasley, the redheaded girl who bored Tom to (again, metaphorical) death. He could only pretend to be interested in how Dean Thomas held the door open for her so many times before he wanted to bash his head into one of the walls.

(He tried, once. The parchment just ripped and left him with a nasty paper-cut on his forehead. Tom missed the red of blood. Now, he bled only black, dripping ink.)

Then, Harry Potter, the boy fated to defeat him, (or whatever) who turned out to be really quite sweet. As a last fuck you to whom he became in the future, Tom aided Harry in coming out to the littlest Weasley’s mother.

That’ll show Lord Voldemort, the dipshit, Tom thought gleefully.

Eventually though, even lovely Harry became more distant, his newly rediscovered godfather being the rightful center of his attention. Tom supposed he might have been jealous of the acquitted Black in another life, but after fifty years of loneliness he understood the yearning for living, breathing friends rather than just paper that writes back, as Little Weasley once called him.

Then, out of nowhere, came the Hufflepuff boy with a tin of watercolors and an eye for the overlooked.

The first thing this wondrous creature made for Tom was a little stone cottage, complete with a warm hearth, a garden of pumpkins and berries, and an idyllic curl of smoke from the chimney. The cottage sat near the edge of the forest, wonderfully secluded and alive.

Tom had watched as gentle sweeps of a brush, suspended in midair, created a home. One that existed in both the physical diary and the hellish paper prison Tom resided in.

Everything existed.

The warm, brown thatched roof, the colorfully patterned bedspread, and even a fireplace.

When the masterpiece was complete, Tom, although he would never admit it, gorged himself on the garden’s sweet huckleberries and sour raspberries. Afterward, he explored his new house, even going so far as to stick his hand into the flames of the fire.

(They weren’t real. They felt like nothing more than a faint warmth against his skin. Disappointing, Tom supposed. But probably a safety hazard.)

Then he curled up in the big bed, under the vibrant bedspread, and closed his eyes.

For the first time in fifty years, Tom slept.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Chapter Two

i need you all to know that the original title for this was “Tom Riddle is a man-whore(crux)??? (NOT CLICKBAIT)” so-

[tavs-tressym]

Delicious Denial - Chapter Seven

(AO3 Link) | Master List | Ko-Fi

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Tav (You)

Word Count: 5010 (approx)

Tags: Fluff, eventual smut, domestic fluff, camp life, slow burn romance, sexual tension (A LOT).

CW: Sexual content (dry humping, whoo!), self-harming behaviour (to feed Astarion), knives, heavy descriptions of dissociation, references to abuse, gore.

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A reimagining of the game's events if Tav had zero magical or fighting ability. But she's still pretty fucked up. 👍

(Lots of comforting camp life content)

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A/N: Remember when I was uploading these chapters regularly? HAHAHAAAA... As a gift to say sorry for my absence, here is an extra long one, plus my first ever shot at writing smut. Feedback is always appreciated, my lovelies. Hope you enjoy xxx

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Chapter Seven - Yes

The sweetest of dreams are always in reach, but never obtained, blocked by unwelcome intrusions that if you were conscious, you’d have no trouble swatting away. But here, with nowhere to run? Nothing to look at? They hold you. They caress you in the only way you know how: Brutally.

I’m so… Tired…

__________________________________________

Eyelids snap open, her hand is no longer gripping your wrist and you don’t see it, but it’s there: the mark she burned into you. And like so many others, it’s now healed and concealed from view. Just the way she liked it.

Forget… Please…

You slip out of your bedroll and throw on your green robe, fixing it to your body in the way that everyone seemed to enjoy. After all, you could do with the pick-me-up after those dreams. Sweet, fresh air fills your lungs as you step out, into the open. The first one awake, as always.

Stepping in front of your station, you take in the ingredients before you. The colours of vegetables, fruit and meat begin to blend together until you can’t recognise them anymore. But you’re calm, you’re stable, you’re just… Not here… “Tav? Are you alright?”

You nod, barely, not breaking your gaze on the fuzzy, watercolour mess before you.

“Are you sure?” You flinch as a hand touches your shoulder, bringing you back to reality.

“Hm? Oh, Shadowheart, y-yeah, I’m fine. Breakfast will be ready soon.” You don’t know how long you were standing there, only that now you have to get on with your duties before someone starts asking questions that you aren’t ready to answer. You begin selecting ingredients and taking them to the counter.

“You’re not sick, are you?” She asks, following you.

“No, no. Just need to wake up a little.”

She inspects you for a moment before shrugging and choosing not to press you. “Alright, I’ll leave you to it.”

Eggs, bacon, sausages. You prepare each but don’t feel your arms move. In any case, food is presented on plates, ready for consumption. You turn away, hearing the plates scrape against the surface as they’re eagerly taken away, coupled with echoed murmurs of gratitude.

Wrist. Cup. Knife. Skin. Breath.

You wonder if you’ll feel it, sitting all the way back there in your mind.

You wonder if you want to.

Blade moves. Flesh opens. Red spills.

A sharp inhale, but it’s not yours. “Is that mine, darling?” Your first smile of the day. You take the cup and keep it under your wound as you turn to face him.

“If you ask nicely.” You smirk. His gaze is fixed on your wrist as it leaks with the most delectable substance he’s ever tasted. His half-lidded eyes watch the liquid rising in the cup, his breath growing heavy. For a moment, you think he might actually beg, and why not indulge? You could use the distraction. A moment of feeling desirable to numb everything else.

“What?” He asks, smiling eagerly, mind clearly elsewhere.

You take it a step further. “Say please.” Feeling the warmth of your blood growing closer to the rim of the cup, you remove your wrist. Precious drops drip to the floor as you reach for a cloth, and Astarion mourns each one.

As you’re distracted, he reaches for the foot of the cup and slowly drags it closer, but you catch him and place your hand over it, stopping it in it’s tracks. His fingers absorb the heat from your palm, but you don’t mind, you just hold on tighter. “Ah, ah, ah! What’s the magic word?”

He scoffs. “Please.”

“Good boy.” You slide your hand away from his.

“Cheeky little pup.” He grins as he takes his gift. “Are you going to humiliate me every time we do this?”

You laugh. “Until I get bored, yes.”

He laughs too. “Ha! Something tells me that won’t happen for a while. At least you’re honest.” You shrug, knowing he’s right. Watching this beautiful man squirm is quickly becoming one of your favourite pastimes. He smiles and resists the urge to tip the entire contents of the cup into his mouth immediately. “Thank you, my dear.”

You sigh and nod with the knowledge that soon he’ll leave and you’ll be forced to take a seat in the back of your mind, once again. Your smile fades and you turn away to properly dress your wound. He does begin to leave, but something tugs at him, convincing him to stay. “You don’t seem like your usual self today, darling.”

You chuckle nervously, trying to cover up the emotions that he’s clearly spotted. “Don’t I?” You slow down, taking extra time to dress your wound so you don’t have to face him just yet.

“No, you don’t.” Silence. You expect him to say something else: A question, words of comfort, maybe even a joke. But no, it’s silence. It’s unlike him. You raise an eyebrow and turn around to see him looking down at his fingers, tracing circles around the rim of his cup. You shrug and take a deep breath, ready to move on, but he speaks first. “Would you like to have breakfast with me?”

Yes. Gods, anything to take my mind off this…

“I suppose so.” He lights up and takes your plate, you follow him, expecting another forest clearing or the lakeside. But no, he takes you to the outside of his tent, where everyone can see. He shuffles a cushion to the side with his foot.

“Here, take a seat.” You do so, eyebrow raised. He hands you your plate and sits beside you with a sigh. A moment passes, you avoid looking at him, he confidently gazes at you. You eat, keeping your mouth occupied so you don’t have to speak.

“Do you…” He fights with the words, trying to get them out despite the resistance. “Ugh… Do you want to talk about it?”

You laugh at his reluctance. “Well, with such an enthusiastic offer, how could I refuse?” Your sarcasm isn’t lost on him, he chuckles back and shrugs. It looks like this is the best you’re going to get.

“Well?” He asks again, softly.

Your smile relaxes. “It’s hard to explain… I’m just having a rough morning, that’s all.”

He nods, understandingly. “Bad dream?”

You’re taken aback by his accuracy, can he really read you that well? “Y-yes. How did you…?”

He smiles, looks ahead and takes a moment. “I just… I just know how it feels, that’s all. Plus, those little bags under your eyes don’t give the impression of a person who gets a lot of sleep.”

You feign shock and rub your fingers under your eyes. “Okay, first of all: Rude…”

He laughs. “I meant no offence, dear. I actually quite like them.”

Smirking, you dismiss the compliment. “Secondly, you’re right. Gods… What I’d give for a full night’s sleep…” You lean back on your hands and close your eyes, imagining how it would feel to drift away without fear, to wake up without urgency.

Astarion brings his cup to his lips. He inhales your scent and takes his first sip of the day, eyes darkening as he watches the body it came from relax in his presence. He tastes you, and you’re perfect. He lets it sit on his tongue, savouring every note of flavour before swallowing with a groan. A groan that he quickly follows up with a concealing cough, but you catch it anyway. Peering through one eye, you watch him as he shifts his position, using a pillow to cover himself. He tries to drink the rest slowly, but as usual, his hunger takes over, causing him to devour every drop in seconds. Then, the inevitable, insatiable sigh once it’s gone.

Facing him, you can’t help but feel sympathy. “Is it enough?”

“Hm?” He returns his eyes to you.

“The amount I give you each day, is it enough?”

“No, it is absolutely not enough. Nowhere fucking near.” He thinks to himself. “Y-yes…” He says, much to his hunger’s dismay.

“Are you sure? You never seem satisfied.”

“Darling, if I was satisfied, you’d be dead. Trust me, it’s enough.” He sets the cup aside.

“Come on, soldiers! We gotta’ go!” Karlach yells from the other side of camp. Astarion sighs and stands up, offering you his hand. You take it and lift yourself up. Without a word, he retrieves his armour from the inside of his tent and begins to put it on over his clothes. You look over at the rest of the group and see them gathering, fully equipped with their usual gear. He’s late.

You turn back to him. “Hey, let me help, it’ll be faster.” You lift his chestplate, inspecting it to see how it should be attached. He hesitates but nods, tying his boot as you fix the straps around his shoulders. He feels your body heat move around his torso as you continue to help, never touching. He’s hyper-aware of your proximity, enjoying the closeness and only wishing to be closer. As you finish up, you step back, checking it all, one last time. He watches you, admiring the way your brows furrow when you’re concentrating. “All done. I’ll see you later.” You smile and walk behind him. With a subtle, deep breath, he walks away from you, forcing himself not to watch as you bend over to pick up the dishes.

__________________________________________

As they leave, you collect the other dishes around the camp and wash them. It’s a typical day of cleaning, organising, laundry and food preparation. Tonight, it’s vegetable risotto.

Carrot shaved into neat curls, butter gliding through solids as it melts, thinly sliced onion softening until reduced to translucent shards, a liquid gold stock caressing rice and a flux of flowing cheese to bond the components.

Without distraction, your mind is free to wander to difficult places. It pushes you back, forcing you to watch your sight from afar. Body present, self absent. It’s a hazed, strange view that doesn’t feel quite real, and your arms aren’t quite your own as they work diligently. You can’t hear her words anymore, but your body feels them. It feels the way your muscles tensed, the way your breathing quickened, the way your heart stopped. You’d think you’d be able to see it, but being so removed, your face hasn’t caught up yet.

Time passes, the risotto is covered and kept warm by the fire. You don’t remember making it. Footsteps approach. The midday drop off must have arrived. You continue cleaning the surfaces and don’t look to see who it is before saying. “Hey, you can just leave it over there, I’ll get to it in a minute.” You gesture towards an empty space near the fire and continue cleaning. You hear a thump as the backpack is set down, then the footsteps get closer. Closer. Closer. There’s breath on your neck. “How are you feeling?” You pause and turn to face them.

Astarion towers over you, yet again covered in blood, personal space reduced to inches. “I’ve been worse…” He nods, but doesn’t move away. “So, you ‘pulled the short straw’ this time, huh?” You ask, attempting to break the tension. He doesn’t allow it, he holds you there, thickens it.

“No, dear. I offered.” You release a breath, stepping backwards and pressing the small of your back against the food station. Feeling the string of distance between you tug at his chest, he follows it, closing the distance once again. “You don’t mind, do you, darling?”

You begin shaking your head before you can form the words. “Not at all…”

“Good.” He moves forward, placing his hand on the surface behind you and resting his weight on it.

He breathes in, scented air travelling through his nose, eyes drifting to the covered risotto. “Gods… I wish I could taste the food you make…”

You chuckle softly. “I wish you could too. Does it smell good?”

“Divine, as always.”

“Why, thank you. You’ve never commented on it before.” You smile, his eyes return to you, somehow darker.

“I try to ignore it, mostly. My ‘condition’ comes with a lot of disadvantages. This one, I found to be somewhat manageable, until you came along and made it positively torturous.”

Laughing, you relax your posture. “You know, I was thinking about what you said earlier…”

“Oh? And what was that, darling?”

“About feeding you… I’d… I’d like to try something, if that’s alright with you?”

He raises his eyebrow, his eyes betraying his calm demeanour with undeniable excitement. “What is it?”

You understand why he must be cautious, but you want this to be a surprise gift for him. So, you won’t reveal the details just yet. “I think you’ll like it. Do you trust me?” He almost scoffs at the question but then he finds your eyes again, takes note of your sincerity, then matches it with his own, nodding. “Then come with me.”

You take his hand and lead him to your tent, lifting the flap for him. Smirking, he ducks under, sitting on your bedroll. Before you even make it inside, you hear the clinking of buckles and the thumps of discarded armour. Now clad in his simple, ruffled shirt and leather pants, he leans back on his arms, watching your every move as you sit opposite to him. “A bit presumptuous, don’t you think?”

“Is it? I’m just making myself comfortable, darling.”

You playfully roll your eyes. “Uhuh…”

He sighs and looks around the tent, taking in all the knick knacks and decorations you’ve hung. ”Now, you have me, all to yourself, in your own little piece of nowhere. What do you intend to do with me?” He may as well have purred the words as the deep rumbling sound vibrates in your ears, so perfectly.

You laugh, cross your legs, and secure the flap back down. The sun pushes the bottle-green shade of the tent onto your faces, bathing you in it. With nothing left for your hands to do, nothing left for your eyes to focus on, his curious gaze becomes your entire view. You don’t say anything, just smirk at him, and he returns it. The longer you watch him, the sharper you feel his eyes pierce your skin. Your smirk fades and eyes widen, eyebrows twitch, threatening to knit. He isn’t phased by the look on your face, the way your chest seems to rise and fall deeper than before. He just tilts his head, watching you intently, presumably to gauge your desires. You think if someone were to look at you this way, you’d feel naked, you’d ask questions. But he doesn’t, he’s used to this. He’s used to eyes, like this.

Before you turn to stone, you hold out your arm, offering your bandaged wrist. “Here.” He looks down. The dry, maroon spot pokes through linen, inviting him closer. He takes a deep, shaky breath and obliges. “Just, don’t kill me.” You laugh and expect the same from him, but there’s a deadly solemnity when he nods in agreement. Sitting to full attention, he gently wraps his fingers around your forearm and with his free hand, removes the bandage. He reveals a sticky, sweet mess of a cut, barely knitting itself together. Dried, crusted crimson adorns the masterpiece before him: A physical testament to your generosity. He traces around it, gathering flakes on his fingertips and gazes up at you: A silent ‘Are you sure?’. Biting your lip in anticipation, you give him a subtle nod.

He brings his fingers to his parted lips, closes his eyes and savours the taste of your red on his tongue. Unable to wait any longer, he leans down, baring his teeth in preparation, but he stops. He felt the shift as you winced and flicked your face away. Inspecting his meal once again, he takes in the redness of your skin, the way it’s swollen and irritated from repeated cuts. It hurts, and it’s only going to hurt more. It takes all of his willpower, but he manages it, covering it once again with the bandage. The pressure and softness of the fabric isn’t the sensation you anticipated, you open your eyes in confusion.

“Tav… I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I-it’s fine. I want this.” You reach for the bandage, attempting to discard it but his hand stops yours.

He sighs. “Alright… But not here, darling.” He slides his fingers up your other arm and turns it to face him. Fresh, clean skin. He can’t resist pressing his thumb into your wrist, searching for that delicious pulsing of your veins. Once he finds it, he bites back a groan.

“Is this okay?” He whispers.

“Yes…” You whisper back.

You feel his lips first, cold and soft. They suck on your skin in a way that you could almost mistake for a kiss. Then it’s sharp, it’s deep, it’s ice. Sucking air between your teeth, you lean your head back, trying to control your breathing, repeating his words back to you in your mind.

“It hurts a fair bit, but only for a few seconds.”

Taking drag after drag of your essence, he grips your arm tighter, unable to hold back from groaning into your wrist. The sensation is desperate, it’s insatiable, but no longer painful. Now it’s a tingling, coursing fire, igniting goosebumps and warming your reddened cheeks. Somehow, although the pain has gone, your breathing is harder to control now than it was before. It’s shaky and intimate. He matches his swallows to the rhythm.

“Then… Well, I wouldn’t want to spoil the rest…”

A familiar feeling: The pooling of desire between your legs. You know this well, and there is comfort in that. But, somehow, it’s tinted in a different shade than usual. It’s primal. Reducing all other wants and needs to secondary. You find your fingers carding through his hair, gently guiding his fangs further into your flesh. Feeling the eager pressure, he obeys and whimpers into your arm. The sound shoots through your veins and you find yourself scooting closer to him. He’s entirely lost in your taste, eyes squeezed shut, brows raised in pure pleasure. Your eyes drift lower and you gasp at the sight of the seams in his leather pants, strained over his aching erection. You need more.

You tug on his hair, but he latches on harder. You try prying away his grip on your forearm with your fingers, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “Astarion…” You whisper. He flicks his eyes open, pleading with you to let him stay. Smiling warmly, you lightly take his chin between your fingertips, guiding him away from your arm. You watch as your flesh clings to his fangs, as though it wishes to stay connected to him. Once he’s removed, the wounds spill over and drip down your arm in a steady stream. He takes it, collects the mess on his tongue and suckles on the source, adding enough pressure to stop the bleeding. His eyes close and he stops, lingering his lips on your damaged skin.

“Was it too much?” He whispers against your wrist.

“No...” Although there’s nobody around to hear you, you whisper back. It feels right, intimate. He sighs and pulls away, meeting you with a lidded gaze. You can only imagine how you must look, as flustered as you are. Leaning in, you feel his bated breath mingling with yours in what little space there is between your lips. You look down at a neglected drop of your essence, running from the corner of his mouth to his chin. Catching it with your thumb, you bring it back up and smear it across his lower lip. He opens his mouth for you with a hitched breath. You continue to paint him with it, admiring the rich colour against his pastel skin. Though, you do notice a new, rosy tint to his cheeks that you’ve never seen so strongly before. It earns another warm smile from your face.

“Darling.”

You watch the word form in his mouth before languidly dragging your gaze up to his. “Yes?”

“You want me to kiss you, don’t you?”

Yes.

You release a short, breathless laugh. “Would you like that?”

He grins. “My dear, let’s not play coy. We’ve been waiting long enough...”

Yes.

You cup his face in your palms and stare deep into his eyes. He hears something: The pulsing echoes of a voice. Your voice. In his mind.

Yes.

It’s all you can manage, but it’s more than enough. He releases restrained breath and slides his hand under your hair to cup your jaw and pull you closer. He waits for you to close your eyes. You do. He leans in and meets his lips with yours. It’s perfect, rhythmic… Rehearsed. To his lips, you are anyone, you are no one. It feels and tastes good, but it isn’t right. You feel yourself drifting away again.

No. You can’t. You refuse to witness this from afar. You need to save it.

You lean in further, taking control of the pace. His motion falters in the sudden shift and you take advantage of it: Tilting his head into a better angle and massaging the tension out of his kiss with your own. Once he accepts it, it works. And in sliding your hands down, towards his shoulders, you encourage them to soften. Sensing his free hand inching closer, itching to touch you, you find it and bring it to your waist.

The moment you let go, something within him snaps and he snakes his arm over your curves, grabbing and grounding himself on the fabric of your robe. Your body is pulled, flush against him with a fervid groan. You reward him with a soft noise of your own longing into his mouth. He parts his lips wider to taste it. Taking the invitation, you slip your gentle tongue over his bottom lip, seeking his. He eagerly presses you further into him and before you lose your balance, you slide yourself into a straddling position on his lap, pressing your breasts against his chest. He gasps as your weight sinks into him, grounding him in reality and locking him down as your infectious taste coats his tongue. With what little movement he can muster beneath you, he tilts his hips, craving your touch against his desperate length.

Smirking against his lips, you pull away and take hold of his chin, forcing his lidded eyes to meet yours. Together, you pant. There are no words, because there are none needed. His hands are stretched to their widest span, eagerly groping as much of your flesh as he can. They slide down your waist, slip over the dips and curves of your hips to find your thighs. He travels further until he finds the hem of your robe with a flash of challenge in his eyes. That’s when you roll your hips.

“Gods…” He breathes.

He liked that.

You couple each heavy breath you release with the same motion. You study his face, adjusting your weight slightly to tailor your body for him. His hands push the robe further up your thighs as he grabs your hips, guiding them. It’s not the stimulation that does it, (with all the clothes in the way, it’s hard for this to feel as good for you as it does for him) but the way he’s looking at you causes your underwear to soak.

You’re only just far enough apart to see his full face. His tousled hair, the new, intense rouge tinge to his cheeks, his eyelids fighting the urge to close, his eyebrows canting, groans and gasps that match yours so perfectly.

“Th-that’s good, d-darling… But…” He grunts the words before attempting to slide a hand down your front, towards your centre. You stop it. As phenomenal as it would be to feel his dexterous fingers stroke your folds and make you keen to the heavens, it’s too much. You’re not ready for him to see you like that yet. To have you like that yet. It’s too… Vulnerable.

“Please, just let me do this… Just for a little while…”

He gazes up at you in a mix of pleasure and confusion. You roll your hips in a particularly long motion, dragging your aching, wet heat over his full length, causing him to throw his head back.

“Ah! Fuck…” He takes a moment to compose himself as you continue your ministrations. He catches his breath and brings his focus back to you. He nods, earning a passionate kiss from your lips.You capture his eager whimpers as you increase the pace, and savour each one.

“Do you like that?” You breathe the question into his ear. He nods. You kiss his neck and gently suck on the skin before bringing your lips up to his earlobe. You scoop it into your mouth with your tongue and nibble on it. His breath hitches. “And that?”

“Fuck, darling… Yes…” You begin to guide his hands under your robe but the moment he senses your invitation, he takes over. He immediately starts groping at the supple flesh of your ass. He brushes against the hem of your underclothes and whimpers with longing, itching to rip them off. But he resists, he won’t push you, no matter how tempting you are.

He digs his fingers into your skin, pushing, pulling. Back and forth, back and forth. You oblige, increasing the pressure, increasing the pace. You notice his breathing and moans reaching a desperate level, he’s close. He must be. You swipe your hair away from your neck and lean into his ear once again, reducing your voice to a whisper.

“Bite me…”

He looks up at you in shock and arousal. Once he’s sure that you do, indeed, want this, he wastes no time baring his fangs and sinking them into your neck. You yelp at the initial pain and grab onto him, gritting your teeth and waiting for it to pass as it did before. And sure enough, it does. You match your hips to the rhythm of his ravaging tongue against your skin as it devours any trace of your nectar it can find. You feel your veins pulsing for him, your essence gushing for him. He brings one hand to the nape of your neck, holding it still. His touch isn’t cold, it isn’t warm, it’s hot. It’s a familiar heat, because it isn’t his. It’s yours. And it’s coursing from your body to his.

“Tav… I… I’m…” He clamps his hands down on your body, gripping you tightly. Whimpering urgent, sweet vibrations into your flesh as he shudders beneath you. “Ohhh ff-fuck…” He thrusts his hips up a few more times, his wetness mingling with yours through his pants. You move in languid strokes, gently kneading the final few drops out of him until he has to stop your hips, himself.

He unlatches his teeth from your flesh and gasps for air. His face: Painted with crimson and temporary bliss. He leans back, stumbling into a relaxed position. You breathe heavily and look down to see the mess you’ve both created. You lift up your, now barely tied together, robe and observe the large dark spot on his pants. Your underwear is completely soaked through; rendering the white fabric translucent. Scooting backwards, you can see just how large that stain on his pants is, you bashfully clear your throat. You notice Astarion’s eyes are open again. His hungry, vermillion gaze locked onto your underwear, but most notably: the glimpses of colour that he can see through it.

You drop your robe, covering yourself again and slide off his lap, to his side. “So… That happened…” Scratching your head, you try to overcome the awkwardness between you. Though, it seems like you’re the only one who feels it.

Astarion admires the glossy sheen that covers his pants and grins at the knowledge that it’s mostly your doing. “Yes, it most certainly did…” As he sits back up, his grin falters into a more defeated expression. “But you didn’t…”

“No, I didn’t.” You take a deep breath and avoid looking at him.

“Don’t you want to?” He reaches out his hand to touch your leg.

You let him, but don’t take your eyes off it, noting it’s every movement. “N-no, thank you. I’ll sort myself out later…”

He furrows his brows in confusion. “Sort yourself-...” He laughs at the thought. “My dear, I’m hurt! I assure you, I’m more than capable of-”

“I’m sure you are… But it’s still a no. Thanks anyway.” You take his moment of silent disbelief to adjust your robe and primp your hair, attempting nonchalance.

He blinks away his shock and scoffs. “Well… This is a first for me…”

You don’t look at him as you finish up your ponytail. “Hm?”

He slouches, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “Well, I’ve… I’ve just never had someone leave before being… satisfied before…”

“That you know of…” You smirk, you can’t resist teasing him, even now. He’s too fun to mess with. He takes it lightly and laughs.

You exchange glances and share his laugh together. It feels good.

“You should probably change your pants before you head out again.” Grinning, you lean over him to undo the flap of the tent, pulling it to the side and tying it.

He gazes at your soft form draped over him as he pieces together what you’ve said. He’d completely forgotten about the rest of the group and has no idea how long he’s been here for. “Shit.” He remarks to himself.

You climb over him and crawl out of the tent, turning back to help him up. “Come on, they’re probably worried sick about you.”

He sighs, gathers his things and takes your hand. Once stood together, he tilts your face towards him by your chin and leans in. “Thank you.” He whispers before pressing his lips against yours once more in a final, slow, tender kiss.

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