#<= has been a pretty good anchor

[falling-mellow]

//Vent

So I’ve been dealing with some problematic sleep issues. Dare I say I might be turning into an insomniac, much to my distress.

For basicly this entire month, every single night, I hardly get any sleep. Some nights none at all. On a good night between 3-4 hours.

It has been very. stressful for me and I am pooped. Midnights have been stress hell and this one rn is no different and I’m sick of it ugh.

I found something on the internet that perfectly describes my problem, and it seems like I am stuck in a vicious cycle.

But I am going to ask for the help of sleep therapy.

In the meantime, my new main focus is to find other things to focus on to de-stress, get this heart-rate down.

[slippery-minghus]

okay!! i'm doing it!!!! first baby step towards a legal name change has been taken!!!!

[bratbby333]

satosugu & their favorite lady ♡ poly head cannons

`⭐︎ ˑ ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ bc who doesn't love when their two boyfriends are also bf + bf?

nsfw mdni; fem!reader, 3sum, anäl, dbl. penētration, oral, yaoi, use of pet names. banner fan art from pinterest

poor suguru, having to work overtime to keep the two of you in check—your unyielding energy bounces off of satoru's childlike enthusiasm, creating quite an unhinged environment. and of course geto switches into dad-mode when it comes to y'all, but he wouldn't have it any other way...not willing to give up what he has, loving how silly his lovers are.

satoru’s definitely the physical touch lover while suguru handles words of affirmation: they take turns showering you in praise in the form of soft touches and gentle kisses while they removing your clothes, two sets of hands running up and down your soft skin.

this dynamic also manifests in public, with satoru being your go-to for steamy dancing and drunken make-out sessions in the middle of the club, while suguru sits observantly at a table off to the side.

when he finally feels that it’s time to go, he’ll join the two of you on the dance floor, his chest pressed flush with your back as you continue to lock lips with satoru. you grind against him, assuming he's finally joining in on all the fun. but his hands pull at your hips before running up your body and cupping the underside of your jaw, quite literally having to peel your mouth away from satoru's. "hey...wha- i wasn't done," you grumble. suguru only chuckles in response. "let's get outta here, you two..." he mumbles. satoru attempts to reconnect his lips with yours before a stern "satoru," rumbles from suguru's chest. your blue-eyed lover pouts, of course, before reluctantly agreeing.

suguru loves hitting it from the back while you suck satoru off, the sloppy sounds of both your holes filling the heady air the room as the three of you chase your releases

and of course, satoru would get creative and suggest a challenge, a little competition to see who finishes first, just for funsies; "bet i'd last the longest". he'd be so fucking smug about it, too. and nine times out of ten, you and suguru would create an alliance and work together to literally break satoru; not only does he finish first but he cums over, and over, and over again. you and sugu take turns bringing him to his breaking point, and after his third orgasm, he's begging to switch so he can get one of you off instead. but you just can't stop. and why would you? he just looks so pretty as his hips buck off the bed, sweat glistening on his skin with his flustered cheeks and swollen lips, while his body trembles with every gasping breath. you swear he does this shit on purpose, plotting for this outcome because he's been feeling super needy lately.

they just love pleasing their precious girl

you're straddling suguru, your forearms resting against his chest as your nails dig into his skin. satoru is pounding into you from behind, his hands anchored on your hips. he tucks his chin into his clavicle to watch as your gushing cunt sucks him in so greedily. suguru pulls your head down, your cheek resting against his shoulder as his fingers reach under you to play with your clit, sultry words of praise leaving his lips and going straight to your listening ears, "feels good, doesn't it baby? uh uh, don't move. keep takin' him...y'doin so good." you whimper as toru’s impressive length reaches unimaginable depths inside you, the sweet squelches of your needy pussy spurring him on as he drives into you even harder. sugu’s fingers keep working at your throbbing clit while you bite and suck on his neck, interrupted by the symphony of soft ahh’s and ooo’s falling from your swollen lips. a few more rough thrusts and rapid circles against your clit and you’re falling apart on satoru’s cock, spraying all over the their thighs. you gasp and whine when you feel satoru pull out, only for suguru to lift you up and quickly take his place, sheathing himself in your pulsing walls. “you ready, baby?” you glance over you shoulder, watching as satoru sucks his fingers into his mouth, a cheeky smirk on his face, your cock drunk brain too dizzy to respond. you nod, groaning at the feeling of his long, slender digits playing with your ass, dipping in to the second knuckle. satoru works to stretch you out in preparation for you to take them both. your face contorts at the dull ache. "look at me...focus on me, princess," suguru rasps, redirecting your attention to him as he slowly pumps in and out of your gummy walls. your nails scratch down his chest as you rest your forehead against his, breathing deeply in an attempt to relax your body for the inevitable stretch. you already feel so full, your pussy absolutely drenched, your arousal dribbling out around sugu’s girth, but you grow even wetter in anticipation for your two boyfriends to take you at the same time

and if you thought it would be a peaceful transition into sleep after y'all finish fucking, you would be sorely mistaken...the three of you constantly fight for the middle spot in the bed. correction, you and satoru are the ones bickering. as the two of you argue, suguru finds his place and waits for y'all to follow suit, and more often than not, it's suguru in the middle, laying on his back, as you and satoru tuck yourselves under each of his arms and curling into his side, legs thrown over his waist.

it's a very balanced relationship. the three of y'all have your designated nights to cook dinner, your assigned spots on the couch (though you occasionally fight over what to watch), a copasetic routine for showering, going to work, running errands together. and when one of y'all is out of town for work, the two left over keep each other company. it's perfect, a home full of love and laughter.

y'all loooove having threesomes, but sometimes it's too much logistically. and that's totally fine...nothing wrong with some one on one action, whether it be you and toru or sugu and you or the two men having their fun alone.

you arrive home, expecting to be entrapped in a double bearhug by your two boyfriends, only to hear moans and grunts echoing down the hallway. you laugh to yourself as you make your way upstairs. opening the bedroom door, you're greeted by a smiling suguru being topped off by his blond counterpart. "hey baby, how was work?" he asks casually, not even acknowledging the fact that he's actively getting head. you smile softly, walking to the edge of the bed and placing a gentle peck on suguru's waiting lips. "mmm, it was a pretty rough shift...i'm gonna go take a long, hot shower," you reply, exhaustion evident in your voice. satoru sits up, continuing to jerk suguru off. with his free hand, he wipes the spit from his chin, grinning ear to ear as you lean in to kiss him, too. "you sure you don't wanna join us?" "not right now, toru, but i might when i get out," you smile as you walk to the dresser, grabbing a change of clothes before heading toward the master bathroom. you turn back around to face the two of them, giggling at the disappointed looks on their faces. when the door closes, the wet sounds and breathy moans fill the bedroom once more. but of course, not even five minutes into your peaceful shower, your back is pressed up against the tile wall as satoru's tongue laps at your throbbing clit. "this is the best way to decompress, baby," he says before his fingers dip into your core and his lips reattach to your sensitive bud. "f-fuck, toru...feels s'good..." as you surrender to the bliss, you hear the bathroom door open and close. seems like suguru was feeling left out. so much for your alone time, huh?

loneliness is no longer apart of the equation for you. after years of failed relationships and agonizing heartbreaks, you have finally found peace, your yin and yang. you have your boys, and they have you.

author notes: stsg has had me in a fuckin chokehold recently so i had to get this outta my head. i just rly rly want two boyfriends so so bad and i want my two boyfriends to also be boyfriends. ugh. is that too much to ask? ♡

©bratbby333 on tumblr. all rights reserved. please do not distribute. 2024.

[cu7ie]

💋 big mouth ☆ ～('▽^人)

⠀⠀✿`` content warnings : gojo can't shut up. cervix fucking. switch reader and gojo. (gojo gets dommy at the end.) porn w/o plot. dirty talking, throat fucking, handjob, face humping, a lot of cum bc i said so nyeh nyeh, oral (dick-sucking/pussy licking), big dick gojo (and he knows it), reader has experience, gojo a little less so. stamina, gojo has it, you don't. cursing (lots of it). name-calling (both sides), afab reader. raw sex minors do not interact! 3.8k words Y'ALL.

⠀⠀✿`` author note : gojo cock is good. based as fuck please talk to me about gojo cock <3 also i fr think hes so annoying hes never quiet!! in my mind he so blah blah blah blah blah during sex . even if he dont like u he blah blah blah. also if you like my porn, reblog it! oh yeah!!! and leave comments omg... this fic got so away from me, idk how long it is its just so much fucking porn- also! @enchantedforest-network partner! join us hehehe

Gojo has a bit of a talking problem.

He's a blabbermouth at the best of times, and maybe in any other situation would you appreciate his insight. He's good at making mountains out of molehills, take your nothing and make it something; even when it's as mundane as the weather, he'll draw up his own storyboard and play all the different actors - reporter, news anchor, cameraman and "Satoru, coming to us live with the forecast,"

and at first it's charming, right? It's what endears most people to him; what attracted you in some respects. Bordering on bit of a god complex, Gojo's always been effortlessly confident; disarmingly charming; handsome to the point of aggravation. He's never a dull moment, always gives it his all, extra even when he's lazy.

But you thought maybe, just maybe,

if you shunt his pants down till they bunch around his ankles, and licked his cock from shaft to tip,

would he shut up then? Would he allow you a moment of silence (relative, because the sound of you sucking all up on his dick is decidedly extremely loud) to let your hair down, let your head bob back and forth, tongue slurping on the underside of his cock while your lips are wrapped firmly round the middle of his shaft?

"You really like sucking my dick, don't you?"

No. The answer is no.

His face has broken out into a smile, and you don't know if he's giggling out of incredulousness or nervousness - but you are surprised that all his blood hasn't gone to his dick, cause his cheeks are red. His hand cradles the back of your head graciously, sweat sliding down his nose because he has to crane his neck to ogle you.

"C'mon. You can take more of it inta your mouth - suck. Fucking suck." His hips shifty as you work your way towards the base of his shaft, and you chose to ignore the comment, what with cock in your mouth and all. He's gotten mouthy before, not like this, but it's nothing you can't handle.

See, Gojo's kinda ... easy. He can act all hard to get - er, mysterious and what not, but he's like any other aloof man with a pretty face. Afraid of gettin' close and not knowin' what to do with it. It, you know, -

And you do, but he keeps fucking up your rhythm by trying to fuck your hand. You give full strokes, rotating your wrist and pumping steady and quick, trying to look Gojo in his eyes as you're doing it, where as his gaze is dead set on your point of contact. "You're just a dog aren'tcha? Hump, hump, humpin', away." Your smile curling at the corners, at how easily he's giving himself to you. He's dripping pre,

His fat fucking cock. Thigh clenching, pussy watering, eye-widening kind of fat. Shit is so big can't even hold itself up, so you tell him "I can hold that for you," and he pants out as he nods rapidly, "Yes, please do." You get to jerking his cock and he's a whiny little bitch. "Faster" this, "More" that, moving your hand up and down his cock like you don't know what you're doing.

"Back up Satoru, I got this."

"Look at you - you're fucking panting."

And you think you'll get away with it. Get just grunt or a sigh in response. But of course his motorboat mouth starts going on...

"Yuh ... you're good, but, " He attempts nonchalance in a cherry tomato cosplay. Red red red all over. "You're holding out on me..." His tongue lolls at you playfully, and you decide anything not singing your praises wasn't worth hearing. He opens his mouth to say something else.

Your stutter your stroke (effectively cutting him off,) working your way to the head and massaging it between your thumb and forefinger. Sweat is pouring from Gojo's forehead. He's hiking his leg further apart on the couch so you have more space to touch him, your body snaking over his thigh, getting close enough for him to be able to feel your steady breaths on his cock. "Fuck! Stop - haah.." He groans like you're working him. You most definitely are. "Stop teasing.."

"A blowjob?" You purse your lips, ponder it over. "Think you'll be able to make it to the fucking?" Your breathing gets closer, and you feel him throb in your hand. "You sure seem excited! Just don't blow your load down my throat, save it for my pussy." You're teasing, licking your lips and pressing a sloppy kiss to his mushroom head. You could swear it'd gotten a little harder than before.

Only in those moments could you have recognized you gave the man a little too much power. When your pillowy, spit slicked lips wrapped around his throbbing cockhead, licking up the pre on your eager tongue, looking down and breathing deeply through your nose. He can hardly keep himself from lifting his hips and trying to pop through the other side of your throat with the damn thing!

Now, he's just a boy too big for his damn britches. He knows you give good head because of the way you move your tongue and jerk off whatever you can't reach, but it's not good enough head. He's big, sure, but for someone who talks like they fuck n' suck on the regular, something about the performance is feeling a wee bit lackluster...

And while you're busy thinking about how you got here, he's impatiently jutting his hips against your face.

"You listening to me?" His finger teasingly taps at your forehead, getting you out of your train of thought. "Don't tell me - I've already fucked your brains out? Maybe you're just a lil' cock-drunk. Got a remedy for that..."

He thrusts his hips and the rest of his dick tucks itself snugly into your wet warm mouth, head brushing past your uvula and nestling comfortably in your throat. You can't see the way your throat bulged a little, but you most definitely feel it. You make a noise, half-choke-half-whine, and he laughs gaily at the way his balls pap your chin. "Ah? You said something?" He peers down curious, your nose mingling well with the fluffy little hairs at the base of his cock.

You don't forget to breathe, although your eyes tear a little from his size. Your jaw and throat are being stretched to capacity, but you remind yourself 'through your nose'. It's fine for a bit longer - you bob up and down in relatively uninterrupted peace, til Gojo's hand on the back of your head gets a little too comfortable. "Just a little more... suck a little harder..."

Your face burns and you clutch at it, staring at him your the gaps in your fingers as he tucks into your pussy like it's supper. He's alright at it. He doesn't do it like all he's seen is shitty porn - he's really ... getting in there, actually. Oooh.... Ohh..

He starts trying to take over your flow, his grip firm enough to start bobbing your head up and down all on his own. Like your throat is just some fleshy, tight hole to fuck. Kinda makes your pussy drool, but that's besides the point. "Oh fuck.."

You moan and take it. Let him hump up into your mouth as his musk sorta clogs your nose. He's moaning so loud it drowns out most other cohesive thoughts in your mind, the plumpness of his balls cushioning your chin a little every time he tugs your head down. He's muttering stuff you can barely hear over the sound of sucking.

"Pretty baby. Here's to hoping you'll never suck anyone else's dick this good again.... holy shit..."

Eventually his grip lets up a little. It allows you more freedom in your movement for a bit. Though your jaw starts hurting sooner than later, so you give his balls a little pinch and he finally lets you up to take in a big good gulp of air.

His voice is a little shaky. "That was ... fuck ... that was nice." Your voice is a little raw, more croaky when you respond, "Just nice?" flicking his balls in irritation as you take huffing breaths. His cock twitches, shiny and coated in saliva, your drool dripping down over his sack - altogether one of your prettier pictures. "Y'know... what'd make that blowjob just a bit better?" He breathes like he missed oxygen, his sigh half content and mostly wheedling as one hand creeps towards the base of his cock, and his other gets comfy on your ass.

"You wanna fuck, Satoru?" He feigns a gasp, his mouth popping into a little surprised 'o' shape. His face can't belie his excitement, his palms clasping together almost comically before he realizes what he's doing and stops.

"Where could you have ever got that idea from...?" He says, jerking his cock a little and pointing it up to the sky. "Get over here." He pats your cheek with it. You're not against the idea, but Gojo hasn't impressed you enough yet. You poke it away with your finger, sitting up and shuffling out of your underwear. There's enough space on the couch that you can flop onto your back, looking at Gojo from between your legs, pussy pretty and glistening with your arousal.

The way he looks at you makes you squeeze down on absolutely nothing. Flustered yet wild like an animal, apprehensive like he's never sucked a clit before.

"Head first, then we fuck."

"Oh?" Gojo starts fighting to get his shirt off his head, scampering forward so fast he nearly falls into your pussy lips. "Easy boy! Down, down..." You mutter, his fingers digging into your thighs and spreading them clumsily. The aforementioned effortless confidence of Gojo seems to break away into something more sincere and somber when he lowers himself down to kiss your clit. The way he chooses to maintain eye contact throughout makes your heart flutter, and you get a bit of slick on his lips on accident.

His tongue darts over it. "Itadakimasu."

"Oh my fucking god..." Your chest almost deflates at how serious he is, nodding like he's bowing before going in with his tongue.

"Mmf..." Your sigh flutters out of you, becoming a full blown moan as his mouth firmly suctions over your clit and little labia, licking firmly and decisively. Like all of a sudden he knows what he's doing. His attention is most often directed towards your clit, suckling on it and making your thighs twitch. You push them against the side of his head but he forces you to spread them wider again, just to fuck a finger or two into you first.

Your pussy makes a little schlick noise, readily accepting him in the hot warmth of your cunt. "That's a good sign.." He meanderingly strokes his chin. "Take dick that well too?" Your head perks up, teasing underlined with irritation.

"Course. Now suck please, I liked you more with a mouth full." You smile shakily and Gojo seems to laugh in kind. Your smile is cut off by a gasp and shudder as Satoru firmly presses his finger into your wall, lifting his mouth to get a better look at your pussy as he's stretching it open. "M'sorry, did I cut you off?"

He licks the remnants of you from his damp lips, two fingers slowly thrusting in and out. All you can do is sigh, one legs flopped off the couch and the other slung over the back of it. He's alright at this. Not as good as him giving head, but it's not terrible either. Maybe you just like seeing him be quiet for more than a second.

His fingers feel like they're looking for something. First he's pushing down, and when you only grunt in response, he starts gently feeling around for that little pocket of sunshine...

"Up." You whimper, aroused but irritated with his finagling. Your hand slides down the front of your stomach, pressing softly on a spot right before your lips start and where your hair would begin to grow. "Around th-there... You got thaat?-" If his grin is anything to go by, he most certainly does. First he presses up into it like it's a button, which makes you squeak and yelp and clutch the couch, bracing for impact. Then he slowly opts you into the pleasure, trying to apply the right kind of pressure to massage a couple moans out of you, your juices coating his hand and dripping to his wrist.

"Oh, oh.." He winks cheekily as you sling your leg over his lap, positioning his cock till it's brushing up against your pretty lips, pre-cum dripping from the head of his cock as your warmth beckons him further. "...save a horse..." He sighs happily as you sink down onto him.

"Hey - don't turn my couch into a slip n' slide now." You groan, clenching down on his fingers like you mean to squeeze the life out of them. "Need - I need more." You snort when he tries to go for a third finger. He clues in quick.

"Dick? I gotchu, don't even worry about that." He tries to slide atop you to complete this jigsaw, but you got a different idea in making these pieces all fit. You push him backwards with your foot a little, getting up off your back in one motion. He backs up to allow you space, clocked in to your movements just a tad.

"Oh my God Satoru." You groan out as the tip of his cock stretches you out, your pussy sucking him up so so greedily, like you'd been waiting all night. "What... don't like my banter babe?" Gojo grunts and your brows furrow, his hand jumping to your hips and steading you when you swoon.

"N-no... Just ... aaaah .." You squeeze his shaft and he actually honest to god chokes on air. "Just - oh fuck - just shut up for a sec. Let me have thissss..." You're halfway down now, Gojo gently coaxing you further and starting to rock his hips.

Pulling up with ease and sliding down further on his fat shaft with effort, Gojo stretches you open so good your legs keep trembling, your breathing hurried even after a couple minutes - and while Gojo seems to be enjoying himself (very, very much so), he's smiling up at you and your effort, very plainly amused. Sweat starting to trickle down your forehead, you're sat wondering what's so funny.

"Yeah yeah yeah. Go on - I'm definitely not stopping you." He sighs deep, his head lolling over the couch as you start lifting yourself up and down, your hand reaching up and going for your nipples. He's too focused on your wet pussy to pay you mind for a bit, but then he's drawn to them, hypnotized. He pulls on your left with his fingers, nibbles on your right with his teeth.

"Oh!" Gojo's blue eyes flick up, wrinkled at the corners. "Mno teef?" He says, still attached to your nipple. The vibration makes you laugh, more of his cock pressing into you as your muscles relax. "Teeth is ... teeth is fine." Gojo resumes his plucking. He lets you use his cock a little like a dildo. In fact, he kind of reminds you of a perfect Ken doll. Smooth muscles you can run your hands over, nice built shoulders, pornstar dick...

"Nuffin..." He mumbles around your areola, going back to sucking and scheming. Whatever. You focus on bouncing on this cock.

...

Opting to do most of the work probably wasn't the best decision. Your legs are championing through, but you're pretty tired, and after figuring out Gojo's dick is big enough to meet your cervix you've been having the time of your life. Sometimes you get too tired to lift yourself, so Gojo is oh-so-very helpful in grinding up into you, smearing his little pre-cum kisses up against your cervix.

"I'll even do all the work." His grin was smarmy, but you didn't clock it at the time. It's cute and still makes your pussy throb, so "Go," you say. "Go off, babe."

You're gonna cum soon. Gojo notices how tight you get when it's about to happen. His take over is a little subtle, but you're so interested in reaching that stiff peak, that tightening in your stomach, just chasing, chasing, chasing,

Gojo thinks, "like a dog." He smirks into your chest. Your cursing abruptly cuts into his thoughts, however -

"Shit! - fuck fuck fuck - ugh!" Every word is punctuated by a last effort of raising and falling, raising and falling, raising, and then being pulled. Gojo tugs your hips down and your pussy spasms as your body jerks.

"Satoru!" You yelp reflexively before something like a whimper weasels itself from your lips. You tighten around Gojo and it hurts a little because he's so thick, but you moan into his shoulder unbothered. A little broken, voice horse, but mostly unbothered. Til he starts moving his hips again.

"The fuck?" You stutter, a little caught off guard as you're suddenly shifted, up and down not from your own movement, but Gojo's rabid humping. "I'm almost there - soo close - can we keep goin', pretty please?" He grinds his hips into your orgasm terribly slowly, trying to get your brain to clock into overtime.

He carefully saws himself in, making your back arch at the sensation. He slides your knees apart and holds the back of them firmly, tugging you the rest of the way onto him. The meandering pace of sex before is tossed to the side.

And regret isn't quite the right word, but you'll feel something a little like it in a second.

"Whatever you say."

Your body is boneless, so it's pretty easy for Gojo to scoop you up, though it doesn't surprise you any less. Says there's not enough space on the couch for him to spread his wings, so he lugs you back to his cozy little room, and plops you onto his bed. Towards the edge of it, so your legs dangle off as he positions himself in front of you, holding his cock at the base - which now looks angrier than before. Instead of the blushy pink dusting it at the tip, it's a deeper, aggravated red now - slapping against your cunt like this motherfucker has places to be. "Open uppp~"

You were fucking Gojo before. Now he's fucking you. Any apprehension, slow-to-start bashfulness, gone with the wind. Once the head pushes past your entrance, a good five inches of cock go alongside it immediately after. Gojo's hiking your legs onto his shoulder's as he watches your eyes suddenly blow wider than saucers, laughing genuinely at the break in your nonchalance and worn facade.

"I should have answered you properly earlier." He says, brushing a stand of sweat slicked hair away from your forehead. He leans down so close, lips a little touch and go, the intention in his eye serious and cutting. With the movement, the last couple inches of cock fill you out, making you eep! But not breaking his focus in the slightest. "I want to fuck." He drags his hips molasses like, till the head is back at your entrance. He slides it back in smoothly, earnest chuckle overshadowed by your pitchy whimper.

"But I assume you got the memo - so," The sound of skin slapping against skin resumes, his pace almost breakneck. His balls slap against your ass with such ferocity it makes you yelp the first time, whimper the second, moan the third. Gojo seems more serious now, the balls in his court and the way you squeal and reach out for anything to hold only spurs him on further.

And are promptly cut off by a vigorous pounding, the sounds of your own moans, and an downright visceral embarrassment when you realize this is the second time you're cumming and in spite of all your fucking and sucking, Satoru hasn't even came once. And as if hearing your thoughts, Gojo's playful expression closes in - his brow furrows as each roll of his hips gets more decisive.

"Pussy tryna close up shop?" He mutters near your ear when you clench on him a little too tight. "You tryna break my dick or something? I know it's good, but you can't keep it -" You don't know if your sigh is from pleasure or exasperation.

"Gojo, please." He tweaks your nipple and makes you squirm.

"Ohhhh, I see how it issss. It's Gojo now?" With every drag of his words he slows down dramatically, dragging his cock along your walls so painstakingly sensual it makes you want to scream. "What happened to Satoru?"

You start placatingly. "Satoru, I-"

After a moment, his hand comes over yours, your fingers weakly folding over his. His pumps grow harder, but slow down, his eyes clamped shut as he looks up, and -

"I'll try to make this one a two-fer." He speaks with that same smile in his voice, and you're two far gone to offer a groan or snap in response. "Y-yeah. Cum, Satoru - I wanna, I wanna cum," His eyes dart up to yours, and it's a little hard to hold his stare, but you manage.

"Yes yes pretty baby. You'll - we'll cum. Soon... real s-soon."

Your muscles feel tired, used from your last orgasm and forced to prolong operation just to take more dick. It's harder to take the full length of his shaft, your tummy flipping and your mind beyond fuzzy and fucked out. But you hold out. Just a little bit ... longer.

His thrusts start getting sloppy. The bruising piston of his hips edge off their intensity, and -

You're cumming again. Your legs are shaking and your ass feels a little numb and you're clenching so so so hard, for dear fucking life-

"Fucking hell!" Gojo bites his tongue, and pumps into you for the last time.

"Good." You gasp. "That was good." Satoru runs a thumb over your clit, teasing.

He heaves sighs like he's moved mountains, but really he's just offloading hot cum from his throbbing nuts, pressed into you very closely before going entirely still. You thought you were full before? Now you're kind of... bursting. Is that the right word? Feels that way. Gojo does a full body shudder and stretches his back out, trying to fuck his load you before he's even came it all out.

There's so much that it spurts around the sides of his dick and you can feel some of it slip out, run down your thighs, and you quiver one last time before feeling strength leave your body. Satisfaction blankets over you, a nice, full-bodied comfort. When Gojo slides out, he spurts a little cum on your tummy, the rest of it oozing out of you slow.

"Haha," His voice is a little raspy, like yours now. He arches a brow before he bends down, planting a loving kiss on your lips.

"Just good?"

[rafeandonlyrafe]

the beginning

words: 1.4k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, pretty fluffy and cute tho, male masturbation, kinda creeping on reader by masturbating to pics of her?, p in v sex, brief male receiving handjob, unprotected sex, a bunch of different scenes with time gaps this isnt one continuous fic if that makes sense?

“your bikini is so cute.” you tell your friend, looking at your own swimsuit in the mirror.

“i have another one in a different color, you wanna borrow it?” julie offers.

“girl, yes!” you squeal as she digs through her closet before tossing the small material to you. you were invited on rafe camerons boat, and while you chose your best swimsuit, you just moved to the outer banks from new york city and don’t have a ton of options.

you put the swimsuit on before standing next to your friend. “we look good.” you nod.

“damn girl, the boys are gonna be all over you.” “hopefully including rafe.” you say, a slight blush coming to your cheeks. it didn’t take you long to learn that rafe was the it boy of the outer banks, the kook prince, and that all the girls wanted him. you didn’t get the hype until you met him at a party and instantly became attracted.

“there’s no way he’s gonna be able to keep his eye of you.” julie encourages you, before glancing at her phone. “we better get going.”

you nod, looking one last time in the mirror before putting your coverup on and following julie out of her room.

--

“hey rafe.” you smile at him, letting him sling his arm around your shoulder. you’ve been flirting a lot, its how you got invited onto his boat along with a few other friends, but you haven’t progressed past just talking.

“hey.” rafe tugs you into him, making you press against his shirtless torso, in just his swim shorts. “wanna come up and drive with me?”

“yeah.” you nod, briefly looking to julie to make sure she was good, but she's already twirling her hair and batting her eyelashes at kelce.

you follow rafe up to the stairs to the second story of the yacht where the captains helm is. you sit next to him on the bench as he steers the boat out of the marina. 

“this is a really nice boat.” you comment. “maybe you should give some advice to my parents on what to buy, my dad is looking but has no clue what is good.” you say without thinking, before cringing at your words, worrying rafe might mistake your small talk as wanting him to meet your parents.

“ah yeah, didn’t have much opportunities to own a yacht in new york, huh?” rafes says as his arms move the wheel, making your attention shift to his muscles.

“nope.” you shake your head. “but i’m glad we moved, i love the city but its really nice to be somewhere… calmer.”

“i’m glad you moved too.” rafe says with a smile, making you blush as you nod at him. you manage to make the small talk not overly awkward as he drives the boat out towards the ocean before finding a place to drop anchor and hang out for a bit.

“wanna swim?” rafe asks as you both head down the stairs, rejoining the group.

“yeah.” you nod, pulling your coverup off over your head. you toss it onto a soft before turning to rafe, who is staring down at your body, blatantly checking you out as he pulls his lower lip between his teeth.

he doesn’t snap out of it until topper claps him on the shoulder. “i got the ladder in for us, man.”

“yeah, yeah thanks.” rafe nods, eyes finally flicking up to meet yours.

“y/n! jump in with me!” julie calls.

“lets go?” you tilt your head, looking to rafe.

“wait before you jump in i want to get a picture of everyone.” rafe shouts out, pulling his phone out of his pocket and handing it to topper. “you'll take it?”

“yeah, sure.” topper says, looking at his friend a little strangely.

you all group together on the front deck, rafe moving so you’re in the center, his arm around your waist as you smile at the camera. you change your pose a couple times as topper continues to snap pictures, including turning towards rafe and placing your hand on his abs, still grinning as you pose.

rafe eyes up topper as he leans and picks you up, topper getting the message to record as you let out a shriek, wrapping your arms around rafes shoulder as he hurdles towards the water before jumping off the back deck, sending a spray of water as you let go of him and swim towards the surface.

you push the hair out of your face before sending a splash in rafes direction, scrunching your brows to show your anger at getting tossed in, but you can’t help the smile that stretches over your cheeks.

--

rafe gives you a tight hug, not caring that your hair is still wet and smelling of salt water. “i had fun today.”

“i did too.” you nod, getting on your tip toes to press your lips to his cheek. 

“what are you doing tomorrow?” rafe questions.

“why, wanna take me on a date?” you ask, biting your lip as your eyes glance between his eyes and his lips.

“and what if i do?” rafe smirks.

“then i’m definitely free.” 

“pick you up at 6:30 then.” rafe says, pulling you against him again before letting you go, watching you get into julies car.

--

“fuck.” rafe groans, hips thrusting forward as he fucks his fist, phone pulled open to the pictures he had topper took. he doesn’t give a shit about anyone else, he cropped everyone out but you, in your tiny lilac bikini.

rafe groans, wanting to squeeze his eyes shut as he squeezes the head of his dick, imagining it was you instead, either your mouth on him or you spread out below him, moaning as he fucks into your cunt.

rafe thinks about texting you, about begging you to come over, but he remembers your date tomorrow, knows what is going to happen after if things go well. he doesn’t want to seem too desperate, but you’re too pretty, too enticing as he swipes to the next photo, the photo of you turned to the side, hand on his bare abdomen.

he looks at the curve of your ass, the way the bikini hugs your hips. rafe strokes faster, imagining his hand making impact with your bum, watching the skin ripple.

“y/n.” rafe groans out your name as he cums, releasing over his stomach as he squeezes himself until he’s satisfied, smiling as he swipes again, this time to the video of him picking you up and running into the water.

--

“this is easily the best first date i’ve ever had.” you say as rafe drives you home. it was surprisingly simple, a picnic on the beach all set up by rafe, and then some live music on the pier.

“mine too.” rafe says, placing a cautious hand on your thigh, relieved when you smile at him.

“you know…” you begin as rafe pulls up to your door. “my parents are back in new york this weekend.”

“really?” rafe hums, bringing the car up the driveway.

“if you’d like to come in for some… tea.” 

“tea, sure.” rafe nods, turning his truck off.

you move quickly inside. while you made up the tea excuse to get him in, you both know what the intentions are as rafe presses you against the wall of the entrance as soon as the door swings shut behind you, his lips meeting yours.

--

“good morning.” you mumble, turning over in rafes arms, both still naked from the night before.

“morning.” rafe says, his voice gruff from just waking. he moves a hand to your hair, brushing it out of your face. “you look beautiful.”

“not too bad yourself.” you smile, pressing your lips against rafes.

the kiss instantly wakes him up as his hand moves to the back of your neck, deepening the kiss as he turns so he’s over top of your body, your hair flared out on the pillow.

you smirk into the kiss when you can feel rafe growing against your stomach. you reach down with one hand, grasping his shoulder to keep him close and kissing you with the other while you stroke his cock, getting it to full hardness quickly.

“when are your parents home?” rafe asks suddenly when he pulls away.

“um-” your brain briefly doesn’t work at the randomness of the question. “monday evening.” “i say-” rafe says, reaching down and grasping his cock, pushing your hand out of the way as he rubs the head of his cock through your pussy. “we spent the entire weekend in bed then.”

you gasp as rafe thrusts into you, filling your cunt in one swoop. “sounds good to me.” you say, before pulling him back into a kiss.

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @rafecamerongirl @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary

[yeyinde]

Fuck please tell me captain price gets to go first! After all, he's the leader, and he has more experience? Gotta teach her right her first time, yea? The others get to watch, maybe get to touch...if the captain lets them..

Fuck I'm foaming at the mouth.

as captain, i think he def gets to go first. if only just to get that outta the way so the others can show you what you've been missing out on.

he doesn't put a lot of weight on first times, but he's a generous Captain and is willing to let Soap and Gaz both have at you, prepare you for him. them. he holds both by the scruff of their necks, too. in full control. always.

and with your legs thrown around Gaz's shoulders, he makes you hold his cigar (don't drop it now, love, or there'll be hell to pay) in your trembling hand for him, keeping it close to his mouth to take a puff whenever the urge strikes.

his are busy, after all—

—busy pushing Gaz's face into your cunt first, letting him feast as Soap palms his bloody hand over your body, punching your nipples. whining for a taste. cock dripping all over the place. like a sloppy, drooling dog.

takes his turn when you're buzzing after being denied so long. poor pussy forced to endure both Gaz and Soap eating you out, sucking on your clit, slipping their fingers inside. but never allowed to cum. they're always ripped back the moment he thinks you might be there, on the edge. you're only allowed to cum on his cock, sweetheart. (and maybe, maybe, if you've been good, he'll let you sit on his face after.)

when he does fuck you for the first time, he makes you feel every inch going inside of you. has Gaz hold your fingers against your rim, feeling for yourself how wide he stretches you, how deep he goes. makes you whine and beg for all sorts of lewd things—his cock deeper in your pussy, Soap's tongue on your clit, Gaz's cock in your mouth, Ghost's hands around your throat.

you're worn out before he even finishes. a shame, too, because Soap barely waits until Price has pulled out before he's shoving his fingers inside of you, cooing in your ear about how messy you are. how badly you must want his cock next. hungry little thing, aren't ye?

Price will probably go last, too. but it's not even really about sex this time when he sits you on his lap, humming at the whimpers you make, overstimulated and sore, as his cock slips inside again. warmed. soaked. you're all messy with each of them, and he rubs it into your skin, makes you suck it off his fingers. with your back flushed to his broad chest, damp curls sticking to your skin, matted from sweat, he holds you like this. big arms anchored around your front, over your belly, holding you there. and just lets you feel the rumble in his chest when he purrs in your ear about how good you've been for them, taking them all, satiating them. how pretty you look all fucked out and sloppy like this.

(and really, love. you belong like this, don't you? the perfect place for you has always been sat, balls deep, on their cocks, taking them. it's about time you learned that, mm?)

[justsayyes1]

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[caraphernellie]

── 𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐜𝐞𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬.

your blood spills like a glass of fine wine.

pairing: vampire!ellie williams x fem!reader.

summary: Those ice cold hands ghost over your skin, rousing goosebumps in their wake, and your interest piqued from the moment she had proposed her idea to try something new while feeding. But this doesn't feel at all like a mere experiment, no, she's turned you into a feast—and it couldn't just be a coincidence that one of the many dirty fantasies you've had seems to be coming to fruition tonight, could it?

for your information: vampire!ellie, fem!reader. SEXUAL CONTENT. absolutely zero plot - straight up porn. messy, depraved, no decency. utter filth. established relationship. mind reading + dirty thoughts, allusions to reader masturbating. dom!ellie, sub!reader. reader wearing pretty panties. bleeding + blood (a lot of it), bite marks/bruises described - not in appearance/colouration, but the feeling of them. masochistic!reader. dacryphilia. biting. fingering (r!receiving), vampirism makes ellie very strong. there is an instance of face slapping. slight overstim. tribbing. reader gets very lightheaded and tired but still present and in clear mind. a little bit of aftercare. pet names used: good girl, baby, babe.

dear reader, you know i love me some vampires. i don't participate in kinktober because i don't have that kind of motivation + i'm picky with some of the prompts but i randomised some prompts to make something 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 for the start of this month. mostly written by candlelight. i honestly don't like this very much, but i'm sure someone will so i'm posting it anyway. beware, 'cuz she'll make you bleed ౨ৎ

　　WC: 3.9K | ELLIE'S MASTERLIST | BOYCOTT TLOU

Rain falls from the tenebrous sky outdoors, the perfect soundtrack to the book in your hands and the cosy bed you lie in. You haven't felt the need to get up all night, instead opting for a quiet, pleasant moment to catch up on reading. 

Since Ellie's turning last November, you dropped everything to be able to spend more time with your revenant girlfriend—even if it meant losing daylight to adapt to her newfound lifestyle as a nyctophiliac.

But still, you remain comfortable with the thunderous outpour, finding solace in the constancy of the noise and the safety of your bed. Escapism is necessary to your survival, as it's been difficult to navigate the changes, even now, nearly a year later. You'd turned your life nocturnal so suddenly, your family left to wonder why you and Ellie made the switch with no definitive reasoning. 

What exactly could you tell them..? The last thing you needed was their concern. 

God knows what they'd think if you told them who Ellie had become.

It's quiet nowadays, you and Ellie working nights and sleeping in days. Little time to see family or friends, the closeness you once had with them dwindling. You work from six to eleven o'clock most nights, and there's no chance of companionship in the office—you're treated like an outsider.

Life can feel drab with such little socialisation, but your setup is alright. It's comfortable. You can dream life away, easily ignore the loneliness and get lost in mystery novels instead. 

And that's the thing: mystery and doom has never been something that scared you. It is instead something that fills you with curiosity and interest. It was nothing short of intriguing to you when Ellie turned. It was devastating, and yes, it was a fearful time—but the changes she was going through were mystifying before anything else. 

It was fun to document the development of her fangs and play with mirrors. It was hard to get used to the touch that was once so warmly inviting, but now freezing. 

It was mildly disturbing to see her learn the ways of the undead now that her life had taken a turn.

It is, at times, unnerving when she becomes hungry. Purely animalistic is the way that her eyes glow in the dark of night, verdant and snake-like, dressed behind dense lashes. They anchor onto you, more specifically your neck. You had to laugh when a few weeks after her turning, she began senseless rambles about your pretty neck, how your pulse drums against your chest, wrist, or nape in a sweet rhythm.

She might catch a whiff of something coppery when you suffer any minor injury, and she'll be there in under a minute under the guise that she'd like to kiss your wound all better.

It's startling at times, turning around to find she had stalked you through the house without a sound, all in the name of requesting a feed. She follows only to beg for it like a puppy to people-food.

As far as Ellie has ever been concerned, she doesn't need to taste the blood of any other. It would be adultery of the worst kind, a pure betrayal not just to you but to her own interests; your blood is dulcet and delectable, the greatest thing Ellie has had the pleasure to taste in her life. 

Why should she need anyone else? Nothing could make her happier than you. 

Ellie truly has a deep appreciation for you. Everything you have done for her, especially in the past year since her rebirth, has been without hesitation nor the consideration of yourself. Never would she let you go unloved for such a thing. Only a vampire can love you forever, and although her immortality burdens her everyday, she intends to prove that statement true.

There are things she's never told you before, abilities she'd discovered on her own after her turning that she'd decided were better to hide from you, just to preserve your peace of mind. 

It's hardwired in her now—she can become easily overwhelmed just from being able to hear your tender heart beating rooms away. The constant, steady ba-bum, ba-bum. There are urges she gets from the sound of warm, delicious blood pumping around your body. Of course, this is all to be expected, but the extent of it is where the disconcertment lies, unbeknownst to you.

Pangs of hunger hit her like a kick to the stomach, vision zeroed in on the source of feed. Her feet feel inclined to walk her toward you themselves. It's a lucky thing that she tried her best to learn control.

Ellie's biggest kept secret, though, are your own secrets. Who wouldn't toy with the idea of living inside their partner's mind for a day? For a vampire, it's possible, under a specific circumstance. Just like one's resting place, a vampire can only enter under invitation, and each thought bearing her name is exactly that. 

It's advantageous for Ellie. She can hear when you think kindly of her, she knows when you're mad at her—and she can always right her wrongs, make it up to you when she has unintentionally acted like a douche. She somehow always knows just what to say.

"Hey."

"Fuck!"

She flinches at your curse, found crouched beside the bed and resting her chin against the edge of the mattress. She carries herself so silently. Once uncalculated and clumsy, her movements are now faint, unpredictable. Her presence is so startling, though it's partly your fault for losing track of time. She would have finished work in the last half-hour.

"Tch, sorry." Ellie snorts, reaching out to drag a finger down your wrist, up to the crease of your arm. She lets a delicate sigh fall from her lips, head tilting to the side to study you. "I'm home."

"Yeah, yeah, I can see that." Marking your book, you set it down on the nightstand. Her touch sends a rush through your mellow composure, so cold it's sometimes akin to the prick of a needle. You can see it in her eyes, the amusement she finds in your reaction to all her icy touch. "Hi."

Your hand adjusts a wayward strand of hair clear of her face, a gentle petting she hums for. Her grin is laced in mischief, but it's only the calm before the storm. 

Tonight is for Ellie to execute an elaborate scheme she's been preparing for weeks. 

Initially, when she discovered her ability to see into your mind, she had thought it was cute, if anything deeply flattering, that you thought in such lascivious ways about her. As months went on, it became amusing. 

Mundane moments of your shared life were overshadowed by your thoughts, how they could often be so clouded in lust. She's taken note of it all on plenty of occasions.

With her grip soft on your shoulders, Ellie pushes you against the mattress slowly and crawls onto the bed herself. All your brewing questions burn into Ellie's lips as she kisses you, as if she had known she'd need to hush you.

"C'mon." Her words are whispered against your lips, touch so eager she can't resist interrupting herself to place more and more indiscreet kisses now against your jaw. "Lay down."

"Mmh," you hum, watchful eyes peering down at her as she delves deeper into the crook of your neck. "You want a feed? It's early..."

"Oh, I know," Ellie murmurs, "more than that, babe. Just thought about tryin' something a little different, you know, if you're up for it..."

Her nose teases your neck, nuzzling close to take in your scent. Old bruises bitten into the skin pound with a dull sting when given attention, Ellie's hand joining her to rub over the small marks. She quickly takes notice of your heart beating a tad faster and before you can even say yes, she's laying a kiss on your collarbone and a hand over your breast.

"Mhm, so you're… experimenting?"

"I guess, yeah," Ellie purrs, her tone filled with the remnants of a smile. It's hard to keep said cocksure grin off her face at this point, hand trailing down to cup your mound. She eyes the dark, damp patch that grows beneath her hand, the white fabric mauled by desire. Lounging about in panties and a long-sleeve, so characteristic of you in the long nights in which you seek to be comfortable, yet so tantalising to Ellie. "But we can stop it if you don't like it. You tell me what you think."

There is just one particular fantasy you've had, and it stuck with Ellie the minute she heard your thoughts. She'd been having her routine feed many nights ago when you'd let your thoughts wander elsewhere. An idea of a concupiscent manner arose in the midst of a dreadful, painful situation. 

Feeding has always been an unpleasant process. Teeth breaking skin, your lifeblood sucked out of you and leaving you tired for days. 

What if she could make the pain feel good?

It spurred days of planning. After all, it was coming up to be a year since her turning, how else could Ellie celebrate? Is celebration the right call, even? One year of being dead? The morbid idea doesn't exactly spark joy for most. But it's almost like a new birthday, she can't do nothing at all or she'll run stir crazy. Perhaps this—over-analysing your dirty secrets, putting them to good use against you, would be the drop of much needed rain in the current self-proclaimed desert of her life.

"Think you should settle down," Ellie suggests. Her fingers fiddle with the elastic of your panties, pulling the band taut, only to let go and watch it snap against your skin. "You're in for a long night."

Settle down? You wonder just how long this is going to take—what's so special about this experiment? Knowing Ellie, she doesn't take kindly to the idea of waiting for a feed. It's most certainly interesting to see her transform this into something much bigger of a spectacle than the usual. 

Pert goosebumps rise along your body while knife-like fingers cut into your hips and elicit a shiver down your spine. Ellie's lips trail along your neck as she drags your shirt up your torso, revealing your soft breasts to her.

She rests her head in your caressing palm, her own hands sat over your sides. It's almost nonexistent at first, but then you feel it; wet kisses peppered over the swell of your bust, keen fangs grazing over your skin just enough for you to squirm, yet not enough for it to hurt.

The shaky sigh you give incites Ellie to continue, only this time her act is crueller, and she nips at the soft bud at the centre of your tit. Your hand grips her hair then, nipple growing firm at the attention. And Ellie offers nothing but a chuckle to fill her silence, clearly feeling herself responsible to not lose sight of her plan.

"Ah– Ellie." You gasp, her lips latching onto you. With her tongue rolling your nipple in her mouth, Ellie's eyes lock onto yours with a pleased sparkle in them, her thumbs rubbing your sides ever so gently—the starkest contrast to the way she's currently toying with you.

"What?" Ellie asks in the lowest murmur possible, pulling off for a moment before switching to the other side. A careless shrug of her shoulders accompanies her statement of the same tone. "Barely even doing anything to you yet, babe."

Her hands slide down your waist as she loves on your other tit now, fingers tugging below the waist of your panties. Finally, she has given you something to look forward to, and your hips lift all too eagerly to assist her. Ellie pulls back for a fleeting moment to slip the cotton down your legs and expose your wanton core to her. 

"Aw, look at that…" Ellie coos, hands pulling your thighs apart to take a look. You're glistening beneath the lamp-light, a sight not only so beautiful but so tempting to the vampire. Your heart is beating so fast inside your chest, so much so that for Ellie, your heart is louder than the thunderous weather outside. "What's all this about? Is there something you want, baby?"

"You."

"No, what do you want?" Ellie repeats, laughing quietly. The rubbing of her hands on your thighs is only to keep you present, her cold palms jarring enough to keep you from shying away. "Not who."

She knows exactly what you want. If it weren't for the way your thoughts echo in her head, it'd be blindingly obvious from the way your eyes flit to her hands. But being able to know what you want from her is only half the fun. 

It excludes the best part: seeing you shield your gaze out of humiliation, whispering your responses in order to keep everything hush-hush. 

"Your fingers," you mutter, looking at Ellie with your brows knit to the centre of your face. "Seriously, Els, stop tea–"

"You want my fingers?" She questions you now, taking in the puzzled look on your face. Her fingers press against the folds, tips teasingly dipping into your entrance but not quite, only to see it clench and weep. "You want them here? Or maybe here..?" 

Her thumb flicks against your clit almost as though it's a button, each circle her thumb makes around the bud evoking a tiny moan from your lips.

Teasing is where Ellie has always felt she was skilled. She's playful, always a fan of the occasional practical joke here and there, and without a doubt, it shows the most when she's in the bedroom. The reward for it is like no other; you turn into putty, begging her to give it a rest and take things your way for once. And she's certainly committed to giving you what you want tonight, but that won't mean she's going to be any less mean than she feels like being.

"I want–" God, you just can't get a word out, at least not without interrupting yourself with a broken moan every time you try. You swear on your humanity that you aren't that sensitive, but her fingers are so cold. The contrasting temperature of her hand compared to you is startling.

"Hey." She leans closer to you, dark hair falling into her face. She whispers against your neck, and finds it hard to distract herself from it now, knowing what awaits her patient tongue. But she has to remain controlled. "Tell me. Do you want them in here?"

Two slender fingers prod at your entrance again, and you nod. In fact, with little shame in it, you helplessly plead. And so she obliges hastily, slipping the digits in with ease. 

Her calloused fingertips prod at your inner walls, roughly thrusting in and out. Your hand reaches around her wrist, only to be pushed away within seconds. The once silent room is now filled with obscene squelching sounds and moans from your lips, all that accompanied by Ellie's quieter murmurs into your neck.

It should be mentioned that she is not yet biting you, but so meanly sucking your soft skin into her mouth. It can be hard to do so without those large canines pricking you—they get in the way far too often—but Ellie makes an effort just to keep you on edge.

Ellie knows that you're waiting for it, trying to anticipate the bite, and that's not good enough for her. She wants it to come as a total surprise for you. She wants you distracted, embracing the pleasure, only to daze you when you least expect it.

She is usually the spontaneous type, but she's proven herself meticulous when she wants to be.

Plump lips seek the last place she fed from, a small bruise felt in the shape of her teeth right at your pulse point. The thumping of your heart against the very spot leaves Ellie almost tempted to abandon her plan whole, give in to her hunger, but she refrains. Instead she litters harsh kisses over the spot, tongue laving over it desperately.

A loud yelp befalls you as she sucks the very spot, and she chuckles against your skin. "Oh yeah, you like that, baby?"

It should serve as a warning of what's to come later, but you're too far gone to comprehend it. Lost, lost in the speedily building high. Ellie's demeanour changes none, she continues until you can't take it anymore and finally pulls her slicked fingers from your cunt. It seems so final for a second that once you regain your bearings, you question her.

"I thought you were gonna f–"

"Oh, I'm not done, silly girl." Ellie laughs at you softly, pulling her shirt over her head in one fell swoop. She lets you have this mere moment to recuperate, stripping herself fairly quickly. "I'd quit questioning if I were you, and just relax."

She's leaning over you, meeting your lips as gently as she can. She spreads your legs again, wordlessly manoeuvring herself atop your pussy. Bare skin against bare skin, shiny and soaked cores kissing. 

She grunts a short curse, beginning to roll her hips back and forth against you. She's really not sure why she had never thought of this whole feeding-and-fucking thing before you did, but she's wholeheartedly thanking the stars above that she was able to get this idea from you.

"Mmh, Ellie, n- it's so much," you say between breathless moans, unable to muster anything else. That oversensitivity kicks in hard already, with you pawing at Ellie and trying to catch a break.

"Sh-shh, you can take it," Ellie quickly reassures, and she's trying her hardest to keep her composure, but it all goes out the window once you start writhing, pointlessly rambling because you aren't sure if it's too much or if you want more, and now getting handsy. 

At first, she isn't proud of her reaction—bringing her palm down against your cheek, that is, and slapping you hard. "I said, you can fuckin' take it."

Pathetic. The way your voice breaks and lets out a honeyed whine, it's pathetic, but Ellie's conscience feels guilty no longer. She's almost satisfied—and she'd been able to hold back, insisting upon not getting too far ahead of herself here, but she's lost her patience. Her hunger must be sated.

Ellie cages you between her arms, once again finding home in the crook of your neck. This time, she bares her teeth against your throat, finally sinking them in. She's hit with the most addicting flavour on the planet: your blood. A syrupy, warm, and delectably sweet liquid. 

She groans, beginning her feast far too eagerly. She isn't too focused on drinking it yet, still grinding her slippery cunt into yours and nipping all around your neck. Blood spills out of every little bite and trickles down your body. It stings, of course, but the feeling is far away. Underwater.

"You like that?" Ellie asks, voice gritty and yet a little more subdued now. The way that you look, shirt stained wine red and body a quivering mess, is entirely enthralling. Ellie is more than just a little proud of her work here. 

"It hurts."

"That's not what I asked, is it?" Ellie takes your chin in hand, facing you towards her. Shining teardrops streak your cheeks and pill against her hand. Since when were you crying? "Do you like it?"

"Yes." 

 "Good girl." The words are forced out of her throat at this point, struggling, because she's so close. It's filthy, watching you get so worked up over being turned into her very own living blood bag. "Good girl, I'm gonna– gonna fuckin' cum, baby, you feel so good."

She holds you still as she rubs herself over you, clit rolling over yours one last time before she snaps. Ellie moves faster as she rides out the high, glowing eyes rolling back. 

You're growing lightheaded, watching Ellie so intently. Her lips are stained with blood, her cheeks beginning to turn a more lifelike tone—one matching in colour to the elixir trickling from your neck.

And she seems to wait a moment. You think it's over. You sit against the headboard and spot the simplest grin on Ellie's face as she begins to lick up the mess on your collarbone.

"Better than a normal, boring feeding, yeah?" She murmurs, once again slithering her hand to feel the sodden spot between your legs. You attempt to close your legs around her, but she laughs, forcing them open.

It feels all too familiar now, her fingers rubbing your puffy clit in circles and tongue slurping up the blood on your body. She doesn't care to take it from the source, letting you bleed all over yourself so she can lap it up.

It seems so similar to a time you felt lost in your head, the girl of your fantasy off at work. You had been forced to resort to nothing but your imagination, rutting into your own hand—you couldn't help thinking about what would happen if Ellie were there to assist. 

You couldn't stop yourself from wondering what she would do if she let her instinct take over. Your mind overran itself with images of her penetrating gaze, face covered in a smattering of the blood she's so obsessed with, watching her play with her food. It would feel so fulfilling to be at her service in this way. And yet, it seems that it's coming to fruition.

"Oh!" You gasp, restlessly moving against her. "Ellie, Ellie, why're you–"

Never usually do more than a few red droplets spill and stain. Tonight, the ivory sheets are covered in them like a splash of paint.

"I'm just trying to make you feel good." Ellie hums lowly, licking a stripe from collarbone to the bite that's now beginning to clot. "It's working, yeah?"

Voice riddled with tremors, all you can do is reply half as loud as she. "Yeah, fuck, yeah."

"Good." 

Ellie's teeth repierce the nick in your throat, and this time she stays close, gulping down mouthfuls of your blood. You writhe less and less, head gaining that floaty, fluttery, dream-like sort of lightness the more that she leeches off of you. 

Days will be spent recharging, resting, and earning back your strength, but that's the price you're willing to pay. Ellie is a great caretaker.

"Close," you whisper, clear enough for Ellie to hear and pepper sweet kisses up to your jaw.

"You're a dirty-minded girl," Ellie murmurs, finally explaining herself. None of this was her own innovation. It was all you. "But so clever, aren't you? Now I don't have to worry about it hurting you when I feed. Isn't that smart, babe?"

You want to ask how she knew, but simultaneously, you don't really care—this experience is so overwhelming. You can barely lift your eyelids to look at Ellie, can barely speak or do anything but nod anymore. But you feel safe. You know you're in reliable hands, the strong-willed woman sure enough to control her darker urges.

The only words to escape you now are breathless murmurs of her name, and at last your body seems to calm itself after a final release of built-up pleasure makes its rounds through you. 

You are given moments to steady your breathing. A wet washcloth wipes the dried blood off of you, and she's soon encouraging a glass of water and a few sugary snacks into your hands. 

The healing process will be the same as it always is—but perhaps she might have to give you a little more grace this time round.

[loudclan-clangen]

The World Ender by Lord Huron would be perfect for this moon

Anon you're so right and also I'm losing my mind over this song rn.

I had been imagining "God's Gonna Cut You Down" by Johnny Cash for this moment but this song has all the vibes I loved from that one plus lyrics that are literally perfect for Wildfirecry, this is such a good pick!

Okay, SO: 7 farm cats attacked Fiercestripe's patrol. 4 of them were killed (Coal, his two sons, and one of Bee's sons), and 3 of them survived, but were wounded (Spider, Bee's other son, and Butterfly's son). These 3are the cats that Wildfirecry tracked down and killed in Moon 29 Part 3. He didn't kill anyone but those 3 toms!

No artistic liberty here! Wildfirecry committed at least three real life war crimes!

Absolutely! There's not a whole lot more to them than what is shown. I haven't put a ton of thought into Forestclan because they're already gone, but I imagine that they were a lot more religiously focused than Loudclan is. Their Starclan literally lived in the stars, and thus they were almost everpresent during the winter, and absent in the summer, when they were believed to hide underground. For this reason, if a cat died in the summer their body must be buried in order to join Starclan, and if a cat's body could not be buried, then they would be lost to wander until the sky darkened again. On the other hand, if a cat died in the winter, they would be left out to decompose in the open air, so that their spirit could ascend up to join Starclan in the sky, and burying them would leave them lost until Starclan returned underground. The rites that Wildfirecry performed doesn't allow for either of these fates. It traps a cat's soul somewhere in the middle, suspended in the air too low to escape into the sky and to high to shelter underground. I don't know if I've talked about it before, but I don't think the valley territories have a dark forest or equivalent "cat hell", so this is truly the worst punishment that Wildfirecry can bestow upon them.

It's Fiercestripe we're talking about here, she didn't waste time with some lovey-dovey good bye. She wants vengeance just as much as Wildfirecry does, if not more, and she only has a moment to speak to him. They'll have time for softness later, for now Wildfirecry has a job to do and she's here to help him do it.

I imagine that Rosehiptree would have been the one person Wildfirecry told that he was leaving. Quietly, before he excused himself, he told her that if he hadn't returned within a moon that she needed to go to the Black Water Pool and get her lives. While Wildfirecry didn't intend to lose all of his lives, he didn't want to promise to come back when he couldn't assure it, and honestly dying and passing his lives on to his only remaining daughter to make sure she outlives her illness is not necessarily a total loss in his book. Rosehiptree did that math, and considering everything she knew about her dad, decided that he was definitely not coming home. She relied a lot on Songpaw after their conversation, and even now that Wildfirecry's back and she's doing a little bit better, she still treats him as her anchor. She knows that Wildfirecry HAD to go do what he did to be able to live with himself, she's even thankful that he did it so that she doesn't have to fear Spider coming back, but he still left her when she needed him, and Songpaw didn't.

Thank you! That's a great compliment! I think it's pretty likely that you've spotted at least one of the ships being foreshadowed in Moon 30, but the real question is did you catch them all???

[certaimromance]

𝜗𝜚 Hide & Seek.

Post prison Reid x Reporter!reader

Read part two here!

Summary: The night with your boyfriend is going perfectly, and you couldn't be happier, until he receives an unexpected call telling him that information about an important case has been leaked to the press, and many doubts about you appear.

Words: 2,5k.

TW: mentions of crime. established relationship. angst without a happy ending. mistrust and lack of communication. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: Again I apologize in advance for this, but I love exploring Spencer's character and his changes. It's so funny to know that the one from the first seasons would never do this but I love him anyway.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

Your smile couldn't have been bigger at that moment.

After several weeks of work and no time to see your boyfriend or send him more than two text messages, you finally find yourself humming cheesy love songs next to him and hugging him whenever you want. You had only been in his apartment for a few hours after the universe and all the stars had aligned so that neither of you had to work that night and you could have your long-awaited quality time together. It was certainly much needed for both of you and could be a bit of a celebration for finally getting a raise.

The sweet smell of the candles you both had placed on the table mixed with the ingredients on the countertop, creating a much more homey atmosphere. After much thought, the two of you had decided to make some homemade cookies with different fruits to eat yourselves and give some to your friends. You had always loved baking, especially when it came to desserts, and being able to do it with Spencer was even better. Although you knew he was only doing it to make you happy because he was pretty clumsy in the kitchen.

“I think you have some flour here, sweetheart.” You could feel him running his finger over your face, laughing as he smudged you, then stepping back a little to look proudly at his handiwork. “You look so cute.”

“Really? You want to play, Dr. Reid?”

You raised an eyebrow and gave him a menacing look, and made a quick move to smear some flour on him and get on the same terms. But you barely managed to mess him up a bit when he gently grabbed your wrists and planted a kiss on your lips, pushing any thoughts of revenge from your mind.

“You cheated, it's not fair.” You murmured against his lips as you both pulled away from the kiss.

“I didn't do anything.” He replied in an innocent tone, kissing you briefly before pulling away to feed the cat. “I think this kid has been eating cookie dough because he doesn't want to eat his food.”

“He's an unruly kitten, just like his daddy.” You said as you watched Spencer pet him and laugh at your bad joke.

The two of you had officially been together for almost a year, but you had known each other for much longer. A coffee shop tucked away in the middle of town was the best place for an FBI agent and you, a news reporter, to meet and start talking. From the beginning, you knew there was something different about Spencer, and it was much more than the fact that he was the only man in the country who didn't know you because he didn't watch television and therefore the news you had anchored for years. He didn't care that your face was what people saw every day and that put you in the spotlight, he liked you for who you were and how you thought about the world.

“I think they'll be ready in a few minutes.” You reported after putting a tray of cookies in the oven.

You were about to ask your boyfriend where he kept the dishes, but when you turned around, you noticed he was still playing with the cat and you couldn't help but smile at how relaxed he seemed. It had been a good idea to convince him to adopt the animal that always followed you home and peeked out of the fire escape. Nothing made you happier than seeing him happy, so you followed your instincts and noticed that the kitchen was still organized as usual. You may not have lived with Spencer yet, but you spent more time in his apartment than yours and had already memorized how a couple of things worked, though you were afraid to tell him because you knew he had trouble opening up too much and taking such big steps in a relationship so quickly.

All your attention was on picking out the prettiest plates and pots for the cookies when his phone rang over the counter. Your hands were still dirty with flour and dough, so you didn't hand it to him and could only read that it was Penelope before you saw him answer.

“Yes, I'm with her now. We're making cookies, and yes, I'll bring you some. Yes, she says hello to you too.” You listened as Spencer repeated into the phone with an encouraging tone.

You barely listened to his conversation because you were nervous it was about work and that he would have to leave so soon.

“You're out of milk, I'm going to the supermarket downstairs.” You informed him quietly after checking the fridge, not wanting to interrupt his conversation. “I won't be long.” You finished, giving him a chaste kiss on the lips before leaving.

He couldn't help but smile like a fool at the kiss and stopped listening to his friend's voice on the other end of the phone for several seconds.

“The full profile was leaked to the press, along with details about the crime scenes.” Garcia's voice brought her feet back to the ground.

“What? How?” He asked blankly, needing to sit down to process the information. “We were very careful.”

Spencer thought the case was already closed, he had filled out the profile himself, they had everything they needed to make the arrest, and Emily had insisted on giving him the night off for it.

“We don't know, but it was on the evening news.”

Wait, the evening news? They were the ones you presented every day. It was strange that you hadn't mentioned it, since you'd just come home from work a few hours earlier, happy about your raise.

“Which channel was the first? Who gave the scoop?” His voice trembled slightly, as if he was a little afraid of the answer because his mind was telling him something he didn't like.

There was a long silence for a few seconds and his anxiety increased.

“You need to calm down and not jump to conclusions.” Penelope tried to be the voice of reason at the time and sugarcoated things a bit. But he insisted that he wanted to know. “She said so...she broke the news a few hours ago and I think that was the first network to do it.”

His whole world seemed to crumble before his eyes again and everything was a blur amidst the feeling of betrayal and bitterness that gripped his body. Every thread in his mind began to connect in just a few seconds, and for the first time in a long time, he hated having that ability.

“Reid, listen, I don't think it was her. Emily said we'd fix it, but you should know before you watch the news.” She tried to defuse the situation, but his words only made them feel more betrayed. “I forgot to tell you before because I didn't want to ruin anything, you looked so happy.”

Since meeting you, Spencer had watched at least a minute of the evening news every day just to see you, and everyone knew it. Only today he hadn't because he'd been busy trying to finish the damn profile so he could get off early and spend some time with you.

“We don't want you to jump to conclusions, we all know her and I don't think she would do this. Maybe it's a mix-up or...”

“Don't do that, don't try to make me feel better when she's the only one I tell about the cases.”

And about absolutely everything. He always talked to you about his dreams, his deepest fears, his hopes for the future, his worst moments, and even things he never thought to say out loud, even to his therapist. All his life he had felt silenced until you showed up to listen to even the most complex thought and his mental discussion of possible names for the cat you both shared and treated like a son.

Since his release from prison, his view of the world and himself had changed. He no longer felt worthy of love or anything good until you came along and insisted on entering his heart and saving him from the emptiness he faced every time he woke up in that dark, lonely apartment that you came to fill with light and the smell of cookies.

It weighed heavily on his heart that the bad thoughts that always haunted him made sense.

“I'll be there soon.” He finished, not paying attention to the thousand and one possible explanations and theories Penelope had given him so as not to blame you for everything.

He ended the call and walked quickly to the bedroom to find your computer for answers. You had been staying with him for several days and always used it for work, so it was on the nightstand. He was about to turn it on when the sound of the front door startled him and let him know you were back.

“Spencer? Where are you? Do you want to play hide and seek?” Your voice echoed through the apartment, coming closer and closer to the room.

There was no movement or sound from him, just silence, until you entered the room and saw him sitting on the bed with your computer in his hands. You couldn't help but be a little startled by his expression.

“Are you okay, love? You scared me.” You spoke as you approached him and took his hand lovingly. “Do you need to use my computer? It's out of battery, but the charger is in my bag.”

The strange thing was that Spencer didn't return your affectionate squeeze, he didn't even kiss your hand like he always did. He just froze in place and looked at you as if he was waiting for you to confess to a crime.

“Is something wrong?” You sat down in front of him and grabbed his chin to force him to look at you.

He looked at you for a few seconds and clenched his jaw, pulling away from your touch as if it burned him. “You tell me.”

Confusion washed over you and you bit your lip, trying to think of something that could have changed everything so suddenly. For a second you thought that maybe something had happened at Spencer's work and he had to go now, but his expression and his teary eyes said much more than that. Something serious had happened, you even thought it might be his mother and your heart shrank.

“I know what you did.”

You frowned at his words, trying to find some trace of a joke in all this. “What have I done?”

Once again, the room was filled with silence and his piercing gaze. You made a feeble attempt to approach him to give him some comfort as he looked like he was about to cry, but he rejected you and moved further away from you. He got up from the bed, put the computer down and looked at you as if he expected you to be the one to give the explanation.

“I don't understand this, baby. I really don't know.” You got out of bed and tried to get closer to him.

At your action, he backed away from you.

“Don't call me 'baby'. Don't pretend you don't know what you've done.”

The problem was, you didn't know what you'd done to give him that attitude. It had only been a few minutes since you left and everything was fine, so it didn't make sense that he was suddenly angry.

“I should have seen it coming before, how could I not, why would someone like you notice me? You obviously wanted this, you wanted to use me to get that raise and have all the fresh information.” Finally he seemed to react and started to blurt out everything that was on his mind without any filter. “I was an idiot to think you loved me.”

The confusion in your bright eyes only made things worse for him. His defense mechanism told him that you were an actress, that you must have known him well enough to manipulate him for so long and not even flinch. It made all the sense in the world that the whole perfect relationship you had was a sham, because he never understood how you, who had the fame and beauty to be with any man in the world, could have chosen him, a former addict who had spent months in jail and had more trauma than happy memories, to be your partner.

You took a step toward him, trying to process what he had just said. “I do, you know I love you.”

“Come on, you don't have to pretend anymore, I already know that you leaked the information I gave you about the profile.” He said after pacing the room a few times, trying to control his anger. “And maybe how many times you did the same.”

“Wait, you think I'm some kind of spy or something...you're joking, right?” You tried to make sense of his words, wanting to believe again that it was a joke. It had to be, or the pain you felt in your heart at his rejection would definitely kill you.

The silence that followed his words was enough to know that he was serious.

“You're the only person outside the team I talk to about cases all the time. And you magically get a raise when there's a big leak.” His every word was like a knife in your heart, digging deeper and deeper. “You even broke the news a few hours ago, you're unbelievable.”

That was too much, and it was the move that pierced your heart with the knife.

“Do you really think the only way I can get a raise is to betray you? That I've been pretending for almost a year that I love you for my own benefit? Do you really think I can stoop so low and that my job is worth so little?” You asked him almost pleadingly, as if begging him to tell you no, but in vain. “Tell me it's not so, please. Tell me you don't distrust me.”

Silence. Lots of silence.

“Please...”

He said nothing again and that was answer enough for you. You loved Spencer Reid like you'd never loved anyone before, but you weren't going to let this go. You weren't going to keep begging him to believe you when you told the truth and never gave him reason to doubt.

“Fine. I hope you don't have to come back to me when you realize you made a mistake and ended up with the best you had.”

The pained look you gave him and the tears streaming down your cheeks stayed in his mind as you left your apartment keys on the table and walked away, closing the door behind you at the same time as the oven beeped.

His smile could not have been more nonexistent at that moment.

[sundrop-writes]

Protective

Isaac Lahey x Fem!Reader

Summary:

During his first full moon, Isaac needs to think of something to ground him - to keep his newfound powers from getting out of control. Derek suggests that he use anger, and he knows that Scott grounds himself with his love for Allison.

Isaac finds something in between - thinking of the anger he feels when you get hurt.

Isaac Lahey x Fem!Reader. Pining Best Friends. Hurt and Comfort. Set during Season 2, Episode 9.

Word Count: 2,300

Teen Wolf Masterlist | AO3 Link

Full list of warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: canon level violence - mentions of Isaac, Erica, and Boyd having to be chained up on the full moon (to avoid hurting themselves and others), mentions of Isaac's abusive father (somewhat graphic descriptions of the abuse that Isaac experienced); Isaac has a self deprecating inner monologue because of the psychological effects of his father's abuse; mentions of Isaac being injured by his father's abuse; the reader also has an abusive father and it's a point on which they related and bonded (and how they became such close friends); at one point the reader describes her abuse as being 'not as bad' as Isaac's abuse (but that is psychological trauma speaking); mentions of the reader experiencing physical and emotional abuse; reader is described as 'pretty girl' at one point in the fic (again, this is very self indulgent); Isaac has a crush on the reader but has never voiced it (it's implied that the reader feels the same way); Isaac and the reader exchange friendly physical affection; emotional angst - Isaac feels powerless for not being able to stop the reader's abuse; I think that's it for this short fic? The themes are on the darker side, but it comes from a personal place for me.

A/N: If you've been following me for any amount of time, then you know I have a thing for sad, abused characters. If you have read my Ellie fic 'My Heart Is The Worst Kind of Weapon' - then you would know why. Isaac is the kind of character I immediately connect to for deeply personal reasons, so watching the entirety of Teen Wolf through for the first time, I couldn't resist writing a fic about him. There will likely be more to come about him, but for now - here is this deeply self indulgent moment inspired by Season 2, Episode 9. If you don't relate to this, I hope you can enjoy it as a distant whumpy fiction, and if you can relate to it - I hope that Isaac can bring you some comfort like he has for me. Much love, happy reading.

...

While the chains rattled against the abandoned subway car and Isaac tried to ignore Erica’s groans of pain from having several large bolts bored into her head, he couldn’t help the question that was rattling around inside of him. 

“How do you do it?” Isaac asked Derek as he arranged the chains around his limbs. He was trying to push down the sickly familiarity of it - being restrained. He was trying to tell himself that it actually was for his own good this time, not just a sick punishment given to him by a powerless, unhinged old man. “How do you keep it under control?” 

“You have to find an anchor.” Derek told him, firm, determined. 

It was nice to focus on the conversation instead of the anxiety rising in his chest, so Isaac pressed on. 

“An anchor?” He questioned, unsure what Derek meant. “Like what?” 

“Yeah. Something else for you to focus on. For me it's anger.” Derek paused. “But it's not like that for everyone.” 

It was immediately obvious to Isaac who Derek was speaking of. 

“Scott.” 

He had Allison. It was some dreamy romantic bullshit - using his love for his girlfriend to keep from wolfing out. But apparently, it worked well for him. 

Derek gave a subtle nod. 

Isaac didn’t have anything like that. He didn’t have some cheesy romance to fall back onto. He didn’t have someone declaring a love for him so openly - because he wasn’t worth loving. Even with his father gone, the world had made it very clear that he was just a piece of shit stuck to the bottom of someone’s shoe - a problem being passed around that nobody could seem to solve. 

“It just has to be something strong enough to keep your mind present. A strong feeling you can hold onto. Anger, love, resentment, regret, rage. Just find something that works for you.” 

Isaac nodded, and Derek went to check that Erica and Boyd were secure as the moonlight came to its full brightness. 

… 

It got Isaac thinking about you. 

You were probably the one person in his life who didn’t think he was a problem. The one person in his life who loved him, even if you didn’t say it out loud. 

He had felt all of those things - anger, love, resentment, regret, rage - the last time he had been with you. When he had been sitting in your bathroom, perched on the closed toilet seat lid after an argument with his father. Naturally, the argument had ended with Isaac having a black eye, and a large cut on his cheek from his father's ring colliding with his face. 

You were the only person he ever went to. No matter how bad things got, you were the only person he ever told. You were the only person who ever understood. Isaac had found out the hard way that your own father was much the same as his. On the first day of freshman year, he had seen you wearing a sweater when it had been a balmy, sunny day, and he had volunteered to be lab partners with you - partially to get closer to a pretty girl and partially because a gnawing feeling was going off in his stomach. 

Even back then - even when he was scrawny and powerless, his instinct to protect you had still been so strong. Even if all he could offer you was a shoulder to cry on and the chocolate bar out of his lunch, he looked at you and he felt the world turning on the simple hope that he could make your day just a bit better. Because he knew, even without words, by the tiredness in your eyes - that you suffered like he did. And he wanted so badly to make it better. 

When the two of you were doing an introductory experiment of baking soda and vinegar to cause the classic foaming volcanic reaction, the rubber gloves you had been wearing caused your sleeve to ride up, revealing a menacing purple bruise on your wrist. Isaac spotted it instantly, and when you locked eyes with him, he held nothing but deep understanding there - not shock or even pity. Nothing but deep understanding and warmth. 

He held your hand under the table for the rest of class, and you had never wanted to pull away. You felt a unique kind of mourning when the bell rang and you had to part ways. 

At lunch that day, you found him under the bleachers by the lacrosse field. Without so much as a word, only a cursory glance around to make sure that nobody else was watching, he pulled up his shirt, revealing an array of horrifying bruises to you - some purplish, some green, some faded yellow - all collected from different points throughout the summer. The time when he had been trapped at home with his father, having nowhere else to go as the man got more aggravated with his presence. 

You ran a gentle touch along the wounds - the most gentle touch he had been greeted with since his mother's death, something that easily brought him to tears. And from that moment on, the two of you had a silent understanding. You spent the rest of the lunch hour exchanging ‘war stories’ and laughing with a tainted dark humor about your separate twisted patriarchs. And the next time he was bloodied and bruised, he texted you to meet him under the bleachers in that same spot, and you didn’t hesitate to rush out of bed at three in the morning to get to him. 

It became a sacred place for the two of you to escape to when you needed it. 

The two of you became a sacred comfort to each other - knowing that there was little escape in telling the police or a guidance counselor, because you had nowhere else to go. 

Today, when Isaac called you, you found your house luckily empty. Your mother and your father were away visiting relatives in another state, so when Isaac told you that he needed you, you texted him the all clear to come over to your house for a reprieve. He was lucky to be able to spend the night somewhere else - to get to sleep in your bed, cuddled up close to you for comfort, without fear. 

He tried not to wince with pain as you dabbed disinfectant on the large cut across his cheek. He hated seeing you flinch with empathy every time his expression wavered even slightly. He could handle the pain. He could be better than this. 

“Isaac.” You sighed his name pitifully, clearly on the edge of tears. 

Both of you knew the thoughts that were pulsing thickly through your head, even without you having to speak them. 

Isaac didn’t deserve this. You wanted to hurt his father in return. You wished you could take away his pain, you wanted to help him escape from it. 

It was a ‘wishful thinking’ conversation that the two of you had dozens of times before. It always ended with you both more upset than when it started, so you swallowed up those thoughts now. But Isaac knew them too well, written across your face and swollen on your lips like the tears brimming your pretty eyes. 

You put down the cotton ball you had been using and turned your back to him, poorly hiding your crying as you stiffly wiped off your cheeks. 

“What do you want me to say?” He replied, hating that this whole thing had to upset you. “You know how it is.” 

To an extent, you didn't. Your father was a screamer. He yelled loud enough to shake the walls, but he rarely escalated to physical violence. You found that you were lucky if you escaped a fight with death threats and tears rather than having hands laid on you. Isaac came to school with fresh bruises every other week - you had to feel that he was worse off than you were. 

“We should just go.” You said, feeling bold in your suggestion. It felt obvious - escaping. “We should just run away. Get the hell away from all this.” 

You whipped back around, still feeling a terrible twinge of pain and sadness inside you at the bruising across his face, the fact that his cheek was definitely swelling up now.��

Isaac frowned. It was a nice dream, and he hated to be the one to dash right through it. 

“You know we can't do that.” Isaac sighed. Ever the realist. Of course. “Where the hell would we even go? With what money? No offense, but the couple hundred dollars you have saved up from babysitting isn't gonna get us anywhere.” 

“It's over fifteen-hundred.” You told him honestly. 

It was a nest egg that you had been sitting on since middle school, hoping to escape your father and never look back. When you met Isaac, you had another thing anchoring you to Beacon Hills, keeping you from buying the bus ticket you had always wanted. 

“But you're right. That'll get us - what? A couple of nights at a motel?” You let out a harsh, dry laugh. Trying to relieve some of the tension. “Well… we could go on a vacation? Escape for a few days?” You suggested, sounding hopeful. 

The idea of spending time alone with Isaac - a getaway where the two of you could pretend none of it was happening, even for a few days - it sounded like paradise. 

Isaac’s mind went to a dream-like vision - having you alone in a hotel room. A bed just for the two of you. Even just getting the chance to sleep peacefully with you, cuddle you, it sounded like a dream. 

He had to pull himself back before his mind went to places a friend shouldn’t stray. 

“A last hurrah before my dad kills me for running away on him.” Isaac sighed. 

The consequences of it would be inevitable. The two of you would have to come back home eventually. He knew that your father would likely feel much the same. He would never forgive himself if you ended up bruised and battered because of something he had encouraged you to do. 

You let out a sob then - the thought of Isaac dying by his father's hands had been all too real to you at times. A horror you imagined in your mind over and over again, especially after times he had come to you with half his torso nearly bruised black and he had been unable to move properly for days. His father was a monster, and you didn’t doubt that he would be capable of murder. 

Isaac rushed to stand up, and pulled you into a hug. His warmth, his arms surrounding you tightly - it was the only place you ever felt safe. You eagerly gripped him back, missing the wince he let out when you squeezed a bit too hard over one of his bruised ribs. But no - he would never fault you for holding onto him too tightly. 

Holding you like this - he felt like he had the world in his arms. Something tight in his chest, telling him that if anything ever happened to you, he would become the same kind of monster that his father was. But in the same way any threat to you made him boil over with rage - you made him gentle. You made him soft and loving. You were the only person in the world who made him feel okay to weep. 

He kissed the top of your head, not a stranger to comforting you with affection even though the two of you remained strictly as ‘friends’. As much as he yearned for more - you were a life vest while he was drowning and he wouldn't risk fucking that up just to kiss you and call you his girlfriend. He wouldn't throw any messy feelings into the mix. 

“It'll be okay.” He told you. 

Coming from his lips, you had to believe it. 

“Thank you, Isaac.” You sniffled. And then, something hit you. “You came over here for my help, and now you’re comforting me.” You let out another dry chuckle, clearly resisting the urge to scold yourself. 

“This is helping.” He told you, hugging you tighter. “This always helps.” He said the last part quieter, a dropped whisper that you could barely hear. 

It was a truth he was afraid to confront just yet. 

… 

But in the present, it was a truth that was helping him more than anything. 

Isaac hadn't spoken to you since he had gotten the Bite. He had been terrified of hurting you somehow. The last thing he ever wanted was to become the thing that you feared. It would have been his worst nightmare to be the one to make you cower in a corner and cry rather than to be the one giving you comfort from it. 

As the moon came to a full wane overhead, and the mighty rage and power pulsed through his veins, Isaac thought of you. He thought of using that power to tear apart anybody who had ever hurt you - to finally free you from those tears. He thought of giving you the same relief he had felt when his father died. He thought of his love for you, even if it was a silent love that he had never gotten the chance to voice. 

“I see you found your anchor.” Derek remarked to Isaac later, after he had gotten Erica and Boyd back in their chains, tightening Isaac’s binds once again, if only as a precaution. 

“I did.” 

Derek looked at him with intrigue, as if waiting for him to explain. 

“Well, you said that you use anger. And Scott uses love.” Isaac told him. “I guess that mine is… some combination of both.” 

“Protectiveness.” Derek explained. “That's what wolves call it.”

...

A/N: This is a oneshot, and I wrote this to be a closed off story/its own little moment inspired by the show. This is a complete story, however, if there is enough interest, I might turn this concept into a longer oneshot and expand on the idea. It would not be me writing a 'part 2' of this, it would be me using this concept and writing a longer oneshot. I do have a personal vested interest in writing about powerful characters defeating abusers, but currently I don't have the time to turn this into something longer, so this is all I wrote. Please do not harass me about making this longer or posting something more, and if you're going to leave a comment asking for a continuation, please also tell me what you liked about this current story. Though I have something else in mind, I do consider this to be a completed story on its own.

[tqmies]

ZB1 + Jealous Sex

ZB1 after one of you is jealous!

note: legal members only (not including gunwook or yujin!) & as always, minors dni!

JIWOONG's eyebrows just furrow because, really? Did you seriously think any of these run-of-the-mill men at this party could make him feel insecure? They don't but they do manage to piss him off. Why were you so close to them? You were just being friendly? You're a liar.

You babble incoherently as he held the vibrator to your abused cunt, having climaxed more times than you could count before having it ripped away by his hands. All he did was crudely laughs at your expense. "What's wrong baby? Earlier you had no problems acting like a slut. I'm just treating you like one."

You knew ZHANG HAO was cute, everyone knew it. Doesn't mean you appreciate everyone flirting with him though.. And his seemingly oblivious act to it all has you seeing red. God, you had to teach him a lesson.

"Babe, s-slow down." He lets out, cock already spent, your eagerness to get him to cum again has him tearing up. His face red as he bites his bottom lip, letting out low whimpers. You continue bouncing on him though, fingers digging into his shoulders as you use them as an anchor. You scoff, trying not to let any moans slip out. "Think any of those girls out there could have you like this baby?"

HANBIN knows that it's not your fault, but it doesn't stop him from getting a little jealous! His friends had crashed your beach date, catching your body in its full glory in the cute bikini you donned. He swears one of them even popped a boner from it!

"You're mine," He growled, your leg thrown over his shoulder. He hadn't even managed to slip your bikini off, only pushing it to the side enough to enter his fat tip into you. Could you blame him? You just looked so good in it! "Only I get to touch you like this, right?"

MATTHEW had been begging you to join him at the gym for months and you finally gave in. Things were fine until you managed to catch a group of girls giggling at your boyfriend in a compression shirt. Leading to an argument that he found himself determined to make up for.

His tongue licked the stripe up your clit, placing light kisses on your thighs to tease you afterwards, before tongue fucking you. "Don't act silly my love, you know you're the only one I want. Those girl's can look all they want, but you're the one that get's me this way."

TAERAE felt the familiar green monster rear its ugly head into his life the minute he spotted you being asked out at the coffee shop he was here to meet you at. You immediately declined the other, but he still couldn't help but feel a little insecure. It was up to you to show him he had no reason to worry.

"Hmm," You mumble, jerking him off as you prepare to deepthroat. He whines, holding your hair into a makeshift ponytail as you press kisses to the flushed tip. "Prettiest cock in the world attached to my pretty boy. No where else I'd rather be then here taking your load down my throat." He can't even manage to stutter a response before you're gagging on his shaft.

You can't blame anyone who hits on RICKY, people flock to him like bee's to honey. But two can play at that game, and you played it quite well, but Ricky doesn't like sharing.

"Gonna fill you with so much cum that it leaks out," He has you folded into a mating press, your walls sucking him in as you jolt from how rough he was fucking you. He was determined to drill into you until your pussy was molded for only him. "Lets see you talk to the guys with it dripping down your legs."

He doesn't get jealous, or at least that's what GYUVIN tells himself. He likes that you get along with his friends! No he doesn't mind one of his friends offering you a jacket. Or saving you a seat by them! It's all perfectly fine.

"Please, please don't leave me. I'd cry every day and- haah - I promise, none of them can treat you like I can." He begs, too busy caught up in his own ministrations that he can't even notice you're fucked too dumb to properly respond. Your back arched as his balls hit your ass with every stroke as you try to keep yourself propped up. "I'm promise I'm good enough, I'll be the best boyfriend- shit - you could ever ask for."

[runawrites-blog]

Past (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Summary: You and Bucky's five-year-old son learns about his father's past as the Winter Soldier and has mixed feelings about it. While you wrack your brain over how to handle this situation, your son's fear of thunderstorms leads him back into his father's arms and gives you all an opportunity to talk. (Female Reader) Word Count: 2,628 Warnings: Angst. Emotional Hurt/Comfort. Past Mind Control/Abuse. Crying. No Y/N. Petnames (Sweetheart) A/N: I'm so sorry. This is pretty sad but it came to me when I saw this gif.

---

“Carry me, please, Daddy.”

Bucky smiled softly and quickly obliged, bending down to pick up your five-year-old son and setting him down on his hip, holding him securely with his arm. Your son Samuel smiled happily and leaned his head against Bucky’s shoulder, cradling his favourite plush to his chest as he let his father carry him. Making his way to the kitchen, Bucky passed through the living room, finding the television still going and realising he must have forgotten to turn it off which his son helpfully pointed out.

“Daddy, you forgot to turn it off!”

“You’re right, buddy.” Bucky nodded before looking at his son, widening his eyes dramatically and making Samuel chuckle. “Don’t tell your Mommy. She’ll give me a lecture on leaving it running again.”

Samuel grinned back at his father before nodding and cuddling back to him. “Promise.”

“Not good enough, little buddy.” Bucky grinned and held out the pinky finger of his free hand to Samuel. “You have to pinky promise.”

Samuel quickly grabbed his father’s pinky with his own and nodded. “Pinky promise.”

“Now let’s turn off the television and then go see if your Mommy needs help with the dishes, alright?”

Samuel nodded and cuddled back to his father while Bucky approached the television and grabbed the remote from the coffee table, keeping his son securely in his free arm so he wouldn’t slip from his grip. Just as you appeared at the door and Bucky feared a lecture on leaving the television on, the topic on the news changed and he felt his blood run cold. He would have preferred a lecture from you over what was shown on the news.

“After the recent hostage situation turned bomb threat and the subsequent intervention of a group sent out by SHIELD, there has been a renewed spark of unease that swept the nation. The subject of this unease is one of the members of the group, James Buchanan Barnes or as America knows him better, the former Winter Soldier. Barnes has--”

You quickly swooped in to grab the remote from Bucky’s hand but his grip was tight as a vice, leaving you trying to pry his fingers off it while the news anchor kept talking and your son’s eyes grew wide as the news coverage dragged on.

“Now as my co-host has so kindly reminded me, Barnes was found innocent after a long trial and was cleared to go on these missions, but people are now asking the question of whether or not a former assassin, responsible for the deaths of countless people, is the right choice of--”

Instead of trying to get to the remote you quickly got between the two of them and the television, spreading your arms to cover more of it. But your son had heard enough and he turned to stare at his father in what you could only describe as betrayal and fear. Bucky saw his son’s head moving and turned to look at him. As soon as he saw the look on his son’s face you could practically see his heart breaking.

“Did you hurt people, Daddy?”

Knowing that lying would only make this situation worse Bucky gave a curd nod to which Samuel reacted almost immediately. With tears in his eyes, he tried to wriggle out of Bucky’s grip, using his hands to try and dislodge himself from his father’s arms.

“Put me down! I want Mommy!”

You quickly swooped in to take Samuel from Bucky’s arms, not wanting the boy to hurt himself as he wriggled out of his father’s grasp. Once he was in your arms, Samuel started crying, burying his face in your neck and clinging to you with his tiny fingers.

“Honey, try to calm down.” You cooed gently, rocking from foot to foot in the hopes of calming him down a little. “It’s alright to be upset but I promise we can explain this to you.”

“I don’t want you to!” Samuel screeched, clinging to you as he sobbed. “Daddy hurt those people. The people on the news said so!”

You were about to answer when movement from Bucky made you turn, finding him with tears rolling down his face as he looked back at Samuel. Then he turned to leave the room, making his way to your bedroom and shutting the door behind himself. But you couldn’t go after him because Samuel was still crying in your arms. Deciding that a change of scenery might be a good idea you left the living room, walking over to Samuel’s room.

There, you spent the better part of an hour calming your son down until he eventually fell asleep in your arms and you gently tucked him in. Then you made your way to your bedroom, unsure of what to do about this whole situation but vowing to comfort your husband. Bucky rarely ever cried and seeing him do so now made your heart ache for him and you couldn’t even begin to imagine what he must be feeling right now. He had been through so much and now all of this was coming back to haunt him once more.

When you opened the door you found him lying on his left side on top of the covers, staring out into the rain. In the dim light of the bedside lamp, you could see tears still running down his face even though he was perfectly still otherwise, not sobbing or shaking at all, still trying to stay collected despite how much he was hurting.

You knew he’d heard you enter, his senses keen after years of training, but he didn’t react when you sat down by his side. For a few seconds, you remained quiet, thinking of what to say and when you figured it out you tried to keep your voice as gentle as possible.

“Bucky, do you want to talk about it?”

But he just shook his head, right hand cradling his vibranium hand to his chest, knuckles turning white with how tightly he was holding onto it. Gingerly, you reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder, your thumb gently stroking his skin.

“Then I’ll talk.” You concluded, sighing deeply and scooting closer to him. “This was a lot for Samuel to take in but I know he still loves you.”

“My son is scared of me.”

“Sweetheart, he isn’t--”

“Don’t lie to me.” Bucky said, voice stern but strained with emotion as he shook his head mournfully. “I saw the look on his face. He was terrified of me.”

Your face contorted in sympathy and you slowly lay down behind him, arms coming up to wrap around his middle and your right hand covering both of his where they lay on his chest. “He is confused, James. He isn’t scared of you. He thinks we lied to him but I promised him that we’d explain everything tomorrow.”

Bucky was quiet for a few seconds before he released a deep sigh. “What do I say to him? What do I do now?”

“We will talk to him together. We explain what happened in a child-friendly way.” At Bucky’s silence, you leaned up to press a kiss to his tear-stained cheek, gently stroking his hand with your thumb. “I will think of how to explain this to him. We can figure all of this out together like we always do.”

Bucky didn’t answer but you felt his hand move to hold onto yours so you just inched closer, arms wrapped around him tightly. The two of you stayed like that, only moving so you could pull the blanket over your bodies. As you watched lightning crack across the sky outside your window you thought of how to approach this subject for a long time, thought of how to explain all of this to a five-year-old but you knew you had to do it somehow because both your husband and son were miserable. When Bucky spoke up again, over half an hour later, you couldn’t help but flinch, so deeply caught up in your thoughts that his sudden noise startled you.

“He used to feel safe with me.” He sounded nothing short of devastated, voice coarse and quiet but you still heard him, his words making your heart shatter. “Whenever he was scared, he used to come to me and I used to be able to calm him down, to make him feel safe.”

You remained quiet for a few seconds, once more at a loss of how to comfort your husband because while you were sure Samuel would still feel safe with his father you also knew that Bucky wouldn’t believe you if you told him as much. Gingerly, you pushed yourself up and from your new position you reached out to gently stroke Bucky’s hair, trying to comfort him at least a little.

“We will talk to him tomorrow and we will do it together.”

“Thank you.”

Lightning flashed across the sky once again and hit somewhere close by judging from the loud bang not far from your home. It made you worry for Samuel, knowing that your son was scared of thunderstorms and you were sure he would have been woken up by the loud noise of the lightning striking, followed by thunder rumbling across the sky.

“I will go check on Samuel.” You proclaimed, leaning down to press a kiss to Bucky’s cheek before sitting up on the bed. “I’ll be right back, Sweetheart.”

But before you could even get off the bed you heard Samuel’s small footsteps running down the hall, followed by him barging into the room, tears running down his cheeks as he sobbed in fear. From the corner of your eyes, you saw Bucky sitting up, worried about how distressed his son was. You got onto your knees and opened your arms, ready to catch Samuel and comfort him.

To your surprise, Samuel passed you by, all but jumping onto the bed and crawling onto his father’s lap instead where he quickly clung to him. Bucky stared at you in nothing short of shock but his son’s sobs quickly broke him from his stupor and he embraced him tightly, rubbing his back and shushing him.

“You’re safe, Sammy. It’s not dangerous, I promise.”

“But it-- it’s so loud!” Samuel shrieked when another crackle of thunder rolled across the sky, fingers digging into the fabric of his father’s sweater. “Daddy, it’s so loud!”

Bucky nodded along to his son’s words, hand still rubbing his back in soothing circles. “I know, Honey. But it’s just loud, not dangerous. You’re safe. I will keep you safe.”

“Even if I made you sad?”

“Always.” Bucky promised sincerely, pressing a kiss to Samuel’s hair. “You were scared and-- and confused. I don’t blame you for wanting some space from me.”

“But I made you sad!” Samuel protested, looking up at his father with teary eyes. “You cried about it. I can see it. I made you cry!”

Bucky quickly shook his head, supporting his weight with his left hand and using the right one to gently rub his son’s arm. “Remember when we talked about boundaries? About how it’s alright to for example tell someone you don’t want to be with them for a while?”

“Uh-huh.” Samuel nodded, reaching out to wipe at his eyes. “Daddy, why did you hurt those people?”

You watched as Bucky froze up a little, knowing that he was not only unsure of how to explain everything that happened but that it also still triggered unpleasant memories and feelings to talk about it. Gingerly, you placed your hand over where Bucky's lay next to him, squeezing it tightly and making him look at you. At your questioning look he nodded and you took a deep breath, having to now quickly come up with a way to explain.

“Samuel, we never told you this because you’re still very young and it’s a pretty scary thing to talk about, especially for your Daddy, but he had a really bad past. A long time ago he used to fight bad guys with your uncle Steve. And while your uncle Steve got his superpowers from the good guys, your Daddy got them from the bad guys against his will.”

“What does ‘against his will’ mean, Mommy?”

“It means he didn’t want it to happen. But they did it anyway and then when he got into a bad accident while fighting bad guys, they found him and took him with them. And then they gave him a metal arm and they made him fight for them.” You explained, biting your lip as Samuel looked back and forth between you and Bucky, waiting for you to go on while you wondered how to explain brainwashing to a child. “They used some technology to take away all your Daddy’s memories and did other bad things to make him do what they wanted.”

Bucky’s hand tightened around yours and you gave him another questioning look, worried that this was too triggering for him, but he gave you a tight nod, urging you to go on.

“It was your uncle Steve that found him and made all his memories come back. Then he took him in, helped him get better together with all his friends and now they work together for the Avengers, fighting for the good guys.”

Samuel looked back at Bucky, tears running down his cheeks again before he dove in to hug his father. “Daddy, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Honey.” Bucky promised but you could see how hard he was trying to control his breathing. “Your Mommy helps me a lot and so do your uncles Steve and Sam, your auntie Natasha and everyone else, like my doctors.”

“But you look so scared!”

“The things the bad people did to me were very-- very scary and when that happens to someone, sometimes-- sometimes when they think of the bad things they get scared again.” Bucky explained shakily, hand squeezing yours impossibly tight. “But I want you to know that I would never ever hurt innocent people again.”

“I know, Daddy.”

Gingerly, you got onto your knees so you could embrace both Bucky and Samuel. Releasing a deep breath Bucky leaned his head against your chest, whispering a quiet thanks at you to which you only kissed his head. Samuel looked up at you then, blinking against your tears.

“Mommy, will the bad people come back to hurt Daddy?”

“I wouldn’t let them. Steve, Natasha, Sam and all of our friends wouldn’t let them, either.” You promised to both Samuel and Bucky. “We keep each other safe.”

Samuel nodded before looking back at Bucky. “Daddy, are you still sad?”

“I’m fine, Sammy. I just hope you still feel safe with me.”

“I feel really, really safe with you, Daddy! You’re a superhero and-- and really strong and you love me and-- and I feel super safe with you!” Samuel exclaimed, drawing back from the hug to look at Bucky with wide eyes. “I promise.”

“And I promise to keep you and your mother safe.” Bucky said genuinely, holding out his pinky finger to Samuel. “I swear.”

Samuel looked at him for a few seconds before hooking his finger with Bucky’s and shaking their hands once and then he went back to hugging his father. You smiled, relieved that this issue had been somewhat resolved. Samuel would have more questions as he grew up but what was most important was that he knew none of the had been his father’s fault. When you looked up from Samuel you found Bucky looking at you with a teary but grateful expression, giving you a genuine smile.

“Thank you.”

“Always.”

[biting-miguel-ohara]

Asshole - Logan Howlett x ftm!Reader

A/N: You all asked for more dog hybrid!Reader and here we are. Be prepared for the next few stories to feature a hybrid!Reader

Let me know if I missed any warnings

Written for this request

CW: PiV sex; multiple orgasms; overstimulation; Reader is in heat; Reader’s arousal is called slick; Reader’s parts are called dick and hole, with several mentions of Reader’s asshole; rough sex; biting pillows; dirty talk; Reader is called mutt and pup; mentions of breeding; cum play; ass play; fingering of the ass; very slight rimming (only for a moment); Logan cleans up his own cum with his mouth; head kiss

567 words

He’s been fucking you for over an hour now. Pounding his fat cock into your hole and making you cum over and over.

Really, it’s your fault. You begged for this. Swore up and down that your heat would account for the brutal fucking. And you were right, in a way.

Your body is soaked with slick and cum, a literal puddle underneath you on the sheets. Your dick is aching, the nerves rubbed raw.

There’s no resistance from your hole. He just thrusts his cock in and out, fucking you as hard as he wants. The squelching sound is obscene.

He’s gripping your tail, using it as an anchor as he switches up the angle. Forcing your ass higher up as he continues to pound into you.

You’re moaning in between breaths, your mind swimming with nothing but hazy pleasure. It feels so good.

Logan lifts your tail, holding it up and running his thumb over your other hole. You whine, sensing he’s about to do something.

And he does. He spits onto your asshole and smears the saliva around. Rubbing the pad of his thumb against the pucker of your hole.

You cum hard around his cock, howling at the sensation. You’re clawing at the sheets, hole clenching tight around Logan. He groans and thrusts a little harder, speeding up.

“Fuck, you got tight. You liked that, huh? Bet you’d like it even more if I fucked that pretty ass of yours, wouldn’t you?” He growls out his words, thrusts getting sloppier.

You can only cry at the overstimulation, clamping your teeth down on a pillow to keep from babbling.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Logan grunts. “Dumb little mutt like you, bet you’d love taking it up the ass. Bet you’d let me breed you then. Fill you all up with my pups.”

You grip the pillow so tight, biting so hard, it rips. You’re sobbing at the pleasure, getting impossibly tighter around him as he spits filthy things at you.

He growls, gripping your tail harder. “Yeah? Use your words, mutt!”

“Yes! Yes, Logan, please! Breed me! Use me!” You babble mindlessly, arching your back further and pressing back into him. Your mind is blank with pleasure.

With a snarl, Logan thrusts into you once more, then pulls out. He cums hard on your ass, spilling thick ropes of hot seed against you. It drips down, spilling past your hole as he smears it against your asshole. Using it to finger you open for him,

You can barely even moan. You’re literally drooling, face smushed to the sheets. Your brain feels hazy, all dopey and mushy. You barely feel aware of what he’s doing.

It’s not until his tongue licks at your asshole, cleaning his own cum from your body, that your brain jolts into action.

You squirm away with a whine, tail wagging. “No more!”

Logan chuckles, but doesn’t pull you back to him. “Alright, pup. No more.”

You relax and collapse onto the bed. Logan climbs up next to you, pulling you into his side. “Was that good?”

“It was so good.” You nuzzle into Logan’s side. “We need to do that again.”

Logan smirks and presses a kiss to your head. “Next time, we’ll try fucking you in the ass, alright? See if you can handle me in your other hole.”

Just the thought has you shivering with excitement. “Deal.”

[aventurineswife]

Can I ask for aventurine with an s/o who looks really giddy and excited except they're actually really nervous and depressive inside to the point they randomly stop acting happy one day and tell Aventurine that he can break up with them anytime he wants since they don't feel sufficient for him? Like they don't think they can compete with the pretty ladies he must see at the casino?-

“You're Everything”

Summary: Aventurine has always been able to read people, but the one person he can't quite figure out is you, his partner. Though outwardly cheerful, you've been hiding insecurities beneath your bright demeanor. One evening, during a quiet moment at home, your walls finally come down as you confess your self-doubt, feeling unworthy of Aventurine’s affection. This revelation shatters the illusion that everything is fine, and Aventurine takes the opportunity to reassure you of your worth.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Romance, Emotional Support, Insecurity, Reassurance, Vulnerability, Tender Moments, Established Relationship, Confessions, Trust.

Warnings: Mild emotional distress, Insecurity/confidence issues, Mild mentions of self-doubt.

A/N: shit why does that sound like me...? 😕💔

Aventurine had always been able to read people, to sense when something wasn’t quite right, when the masks people wore didn’t match the truth lurking beneath. But there was something about you—about how you always wore that giddy, almost dizzying smile—that kept him second-guessing himself. You never seemed to show your hand, always too busy hiding your true feelings behind that infectious energy.

It had taken time, but over the months of your relationship, he’d come to know you better, catching the subtle hints when your laughter wasn’t quite as bright or your movements just a little too stiff. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t worry—his strategic mind always assumed something was amiss, but you had become his anchor. He’d convinced himself that he didn’t need to dig deeper, that everything was fine as long as you looked happy. But deep down, that little seed of doubt always lingered, nestled in the back of his mind.

And that day... that day it all came crashing down.

It started with a quiet evening at home. The two of you had shared a meal, laughed about something trivial, and as always, you had worn that bubbly, almost too-exuberant smile. But there was a shift, a subtle drop in the energy that only someone who had spent so much time with you would notice. The tension in your shoulders, the way your eyes darted away when he met your gaze—it was like a veil had dropped, leaving a raw vulnerability behind.

You didn’t say anything at first, as if waiting for him to notice, to say something. But then, just as he was about to speak, you broke the silence.

"I don't think I'm good enough for you." you muttered, voice strained. Your hands trembled slightly, though you tried to keep them hidden in your lap.

Aventurine’s heart twisted. The moment you said those words, the mask shattered, and the heavy truth hit him. You hadn’t been your usual self—hadn't been genuinely happy—and he knew it was time to uncover the secret you’d been holding in.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, studying you carefully. “What do you mean by that?” His tone was soft, but there was a depth of concern behind it.

You swallowed, trying to compose yourself, but the words kept slipping out in a rush. "I—I don’t know, I just feel... like you could do so much better. I see how you are at the casino, surrounded by all those beautiful, confident women, and I... I can’t compete with them. I don’t even feel like I’m enough for you. You can... break up with me anytime you want. I wouldn't blame you."

The words hit Aventurine like a sucker punch. He froze for a moment, his usually steady hand twitching as he fought the urge to reach out and pull you into his arms. But instead, he stayed where he was, keeping his distance, allowing the weight of your words to settle between the two of you.

His gaze softened, his eyes fixing on you with an intensity that left no room for doubt. “You think I’m with you because of how you compare to others?” he asked, his voice a little more stern than usual. But underneath it was something deeper—something fragile, as if he was trying to keep his own composure intact.

Your head hung low, and you nodded, unable to meet his eyes. “I don’t know… It just feels like... I’m not enough for someone like you. You deserve someone who can make you happy without all this baggage."

Aventurine let out a small sigh, shaking his head slightly, as if processing the sheer weight of your words. His lips twitched upward into a soft, bittersweet smile, the kind that spoke of knowing something far deeper than surface-level impressions. He stood and walked over to you slowly, his movements calculated, but not with the usual sharpness of someone managing a deal. No, this was different. His steps were careful, as if afraid of shattering the delicate balance between the two of you.

Reaching out, he cupped your chin gently with one hand, lifting your face so you would meet his gaze. "You really think I care about comparing you to other people?" His voice, though steady, held a quiet intensity that resonated through you. "Look at me. Look at me, and understand something."

You blinked up at him, your heart thundering in your chest.

Aventurine exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “What matters to me, what’s always mattered to me, is you. Not the ‘pretty ladies,’ not the ones who look perfect on the outside. I’ve never cared about that. Not when it’s you who can make me laugh when the world feels like it’s closing in. Not when it’s you who makes me feel... human, not just the strategist, not just the Stoneheart. I don’t need anyone else."

You felt a pang in your chest at his words, but it only deepened when he continued.

“You think you're not enough, but you're everything. The fact that you’re here, sharing this with me, means more than you can imagine. You want to know why I chose you?” His voice was softer now, coaxing, as if breaking through a dam that had held so much back. "Because you're you. You don't have to pretend to be someone you're not. You never have to compete with anyone else, not when I’ve already chosen you."

Tears welled in your eyes, but you didn’t wipe them away. His words felt like a balm to wounds you hadn't realized were so deep.

Aventurine gave you a small, sincere smile, his gaze unwavering. “I’m not going anywhere. And if you ever doubt it again, I’ll remind you. But I’m asking you now, don’t doubt yourself. Not for a second. You’re exactly what I need, exactly what I want.”

The weight that had been crushing your chest seemed to lift, and for the first time in a long while, you breathed a little easier. You couldn’t help but let out a shaky laugh, your lips curving upward despite the wetness still on your cheeks.

Aventurine laughed with you, the sound warm and full of tenderness. “There’s that smile again. I’m never letting go of it.” He wiped a stray tear from your cheek with his thumb, his eyes glimmering with something you couldn’t quite put into words.

In that moment, you understood. You weren’t just his partner. You were his, completely and irrevocably, no matter what the world outside thought or how you felt inside.

And with that, you finally let the real smile break free, one that didn’t feel forced, one that was only for him.

[ghouldtime]

Celebrating Halloween with the TF141 Men

Happy Halloween!!! 🎃👻 My absolute FAVORITE holiday so you know I had to do this because SPOOKY TIME HELL YEAH

Captain John Price

He's never really been one for it or most holidays. He's usually far too busy to celebrate them and days fly by without him realizing. They're usually something that sneak up on him, seeing as he is preoccupied most of the time and the last thing he's worried about is partying or doing something special

He only really notices it because Halloween has mainly been his busy holiday, especially for more messy missions or times when he needs Intel. In countries that celebrate it, it makes for an extremely easy get away and is a great opportunity to be less covert and more direct. Man covered in blood? Which? Everyone is, it's Halloween. People can look at a corpse and wouldn't even question it, they'll just think it's really good special effects. The screaming? Oh don't mind that, just a soundtrack :)

He's not one who exactly celebrates it in a traditional way. He never really had the time for that - for sitting down and handing out candy or dressing up. That's too much time out of his day and he usually doesn't have that luxury - nor does he feel its sensible. He's far more on the side of tricks over treating, or going to Halloween events instead of participating individually

On Halloween, it's pretty much a guarantee he's going to pull something or do a relatively harmless prank. He's got quite the sense of humor underneath his stern facade. It's usually something harmless like "Did you see the leek in the bathroom?" And as you investigate, it's a literal leek (the vegetable) and he's holding back laughter

If you try to one-up him, he'll just come back stronger next year. You'll be playing a dangerous game but it should always be expected. His team learned that the hard way. It doesn't help he can get others in on it

That doesn't mean the day is without treats. If it matters to you, he'll happily take you to a party or any Halloween themed event that you want to go to - his only thing is that he won't host those, too much clean up and headaches as far as he's concerned

He'll only dress up if you pick out the outfit. It's nothing personal, it's just not something he's particularly interested in, but he will happily oblige. He usually thinks most costumes are a bit ridiculous but what's the harm of getting in the spirit? Besides, it's very much worth it to see you smile

It's hard to get him to slow down and enjoy things like holidays, but with you by his side it feels a lot more natural. He's a stubborn man stuck in his routine of all work, little play, sometimes he needs someone to boot him out of it and get him to live a little. It's difficult yet he'll always make it worth it

No matter what you decide to do or where you go, he'll be holding your hand, keeping you close to him. His attention will always fall right back on you throughout the night, no matter what else is going on. Whether it's watching a scary movie or hanging out at a bar hosting a costume party, he'll always be turning to you

Having someone like you by his side is really what he needed to remind himself that he is human too and anchors him onto the humanity he can scarcely find some days. It's easy to forget the smaller things in life unless you have that within your reach. When his day is all weight-of-the-world stakes, he sometimes loses the smaller picture. Seeing your smile is a reminder of what and who he is fighting for, and why he must keep doing it

He'll be holding you a bit closer, his gaze lingering more so than usual, and the lines around his eyes will be that much softer as he steals yet another glance at you. Halloween might be a night of frights but the scariest thing in that moment would be spending another minute without you :)

Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley

It would honestly be weirder if he didn't like Halloween. He's dressed like a damn skeleton year round and you can't tell me he doesn't play into the bit (it would be absolutely hilarious though if he just dressed like a regular guy on Halloween. That's a real scare amirite)

He actually wasn't a fan of it growing up, mainly due to the association with all the frightening outfits and his brother Tommy taking the opportunity to up the ante on scaring the living daylights out of him. But now that he's reclaimed the mask and his brother has long been gone, it's a bitter sweet thing and one of the few things that actually help him remember his brother in the best way (seeing as they repaired their relationship when they were older)

Except the difference is Halloween is meant for plain ol' good scary fun. The kind where people can opt in if they want to participate. He's not looking to create traumatic experiences or give someone a bad association, he would rather not pass his own childhood on in that way

That being said, Ghost isn't one to go out and actively wander around or party. He's still his usual introverted self. No holiday will ever change that for him

He still decorates for it, he's having fun with it because it ties right into his aesthetic. Spookiness is literally in his name. He will mainly decorate with skeletons and skeletal animals doing goofy things - it's different each year. The cowboy skeletons were a hit, as was the undead petting zoo, full of those anatomically incorrect skeletons

Yes, all the skeletons DO have names. And yes, they're all puns - he finds them humerus ;)

His ideal Halloween is more of a classic night in. He will still dress up to hand out candy, but also he is spending most of it by your side for a slasher movie marathon. Spending time with those he values on arguably his favorite holiday is his preferred way to celebrate

And yes, he usually will dress to match the part. Most years his costumes are reflective of said slashers or notorious movie killers. He has the right build and stature to make for an utterly killer Jason, Mike Myers, Ghostface - you name it, he probably has a costume for it

He personally loves old slashers because of how bad most of them are, they have a sort of nostalgia to them that he likes. If you're not able to watch those or are too squeamish, he will happily put on other genres of Halloween movies

Anything stop motion is usually fair game! But if you'd rather watch a TV show instead, he won't contest. The Twilight Zone is a classic series OR you can even watch those Halloween baking shows

He will get ridiculously invested in them if you do. Prepare to watch the entire season that night if you make that choice, and he WILL have commentary (Lemon curd? Really? Everyone knows raspberry pairs better with it and it's Halloween themed. Why aren't you making it bloody??)

Usually he isn't much of a candy eater, but he naturally has a fair Halloween stock so feel free to swipe some if you're feeling up for it. He's more of a baked sweets kind of guy, which he has absolutely made SURE to stockpile with other snacks and drinks for your movie marathon. Naturally he makes sure to have your favorites there too, that goes without saying

You won't have to get up to answer the door if you don't want to, he will happily do it. He is, however, never going to be the person to just leave the bowl outside. Halloween being his favorite holiday means he IS participating to some degree. It brings him happy memories. He usually isn't gone for too long, though. After all, he can't miss his favorite scenes (or his favorite person for too long )

Expect to spend most of the night bundled under a fluffy skeletal patterned fleece with all the movies (or shows) you pick all that much more interesting with his commentary, his arm around you. He won't mind if you fall asleep like that or hide into him if it gets scary - don't worry, he's the only ghost you'll have to worry about

Sergeant Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

If you want someone to have fun with and truly celebrate, he is absolutely your guy. He loves Halloween, mainly because it's a great community holiday and is one of the few that's not centered on familial stuff or love alone

Not to mention, he has good memories of Halloween growing up. He remembers being a kid once, wanting to dress up and be his favorite super heroes and the fun that came with it. He wants to be one of those people who absolutely made kids' nights with a generous bounty of candy, the same way that others did for him

He prefers decorating with a more retro vibe. Modern decorations just don't cut it for him and he feels they don't have the same magic. Call him particular but he finds far more charm in the older decor than the new cheap stuff. Anyone can get the newest trendy thing but that display? All vintage (he's got great taste)

He is ALSO the one who has the king size candy bars and the GOOD stuff. He's also considerate - he accounts for kids with peanut allergies and has a trinket bowl they can pick something from if they can't have candy or just want something a bit different!

He absolutely lives for seeing all of the costumes and the creativity that goes into them. He's already looked up the hottest outfits and media so he can know just how to compliment them to make them smile.

He's 110% enlisting your help to pass out the candy and to keep things going. He needs someone to keep him company through the chillier part of the night and someone to talk to, not to mention - he needs a distraction

It's trick or treating - what would it be without a bit of a trick? Granted, he waits til the later part of the night when the older kids are roaming and darkness has fallen. He loves laying in wait in a ghillie suit. No one sees him until it's too late and he's popping up, scaring the living daylights out of them

He's in his element there. Stealth, using his great sense of humor, and having fun? Yeah, he's having a great time. And he'll make sure you are too. You're welcome to join him in his endeavors. He's got a second suit somewhere - you can both surprise those who try and swipe a whole candy bowl they think was left unattended

Needless to say, they learn their lesson fast. It takes everything in him to hold it together and keep a stern face as they slink off. The second they round the corner, he's cracking up. Works every single time - and he changes locations and tactics each year, good luck

He's got enough candy to go around and in the quiet moments, help yourself, he'll enjoy some right by your side too. Have to keep fueled up for the night ahead. He'll make sure you're staying warm (or cool, if the climate happens to be miserable this time of year) and will be happily tell you scary stories if you feel so inclined to listen. He has plenty in store that he learned from when his siblings were little - and ones his older brother told him too

There's many things that can haunt you in this world, and before the night is up you'll be adding his laugh or the warmth of his hands adjusting your costume, letting his touch linger for a bit longer than normal - in the best way, of course ;)

Sergeant John "Soap" MacTavish

Contrary to popular belief, holidays or celebrating them aren't particularly his thing. Like Price, he's usually quite work focused and can be a bit too absorbed in it for his own good. He didn't become the youngest member of TF141 for nothing, this man has dedication

He's still very much learning the balance between work life and personal, it's a thin line he tends to forget about because of how driven he is. Usually all he needs is someone to instigate, maybe distract, and get the ball rolling. He'll be all for it after a nudge in the right way

Like anything he does though, when he commits he COMMITS. He's going all out. He's particularly fond of the artistic aspect of most costumes and having fun with it. It's the one time of year you can wear nearly whatever you want and no one will (particularly) judge you for it

If you want to do a couples costume or duo's costume, he's your man. He's pulling out all the stops for it. He's actually got a decent eye for the arts and he CAN sew. It's a practical skill and it's made him plenty of friends (especially with those who are a bit too big for their uniforms, or who are accident prone and seem to wear holes into their gear like it's their job)

Just say the word or idea and he'll be right on it, looking into inspiration and doing what he can to put it together. He'll even do the SFX makeup if you want (he's seen enough gore that he'll be able to get it right, trust him on that)

If you go to any event, you'll probably win the costume contest. He's putting in all the details he can. Or he can keep it low-key, if you'd rather not have the attention and just want to have fun. Either way, he'll be matching your energy and vibe

He's not really going to want to spend the night passing out candy alone. Sure, you can do some of that - but it only comes once a year. Why not take advantage of the spookiness and the ambiance of the holiday? He'll be the one who would rather attend things like haunted houses, even if they are ineffective against him - he'll spot most scares from a mile away. At least it's fun to see them try, most times he'll just stand and stare or even laugh if they try really hard. Luckily, it means he'll protect you

Another option is ghost hunting, and he doesn't just mean chasing after ghost. He's all for ghost tours or going to abandoned places to see what all the fuss is about. Don't worry, he can keep you safe. He knows how ghosts work, after all, he works WITH one. It might be eerie but it'll be a Halloween you won't forget

If you really, really don't want to go - he'll settle for one of those fright nights that they have at some amusement parks or other local places where you can opt out of the scares. As long as he gets to do something with you and have fun while the night lasts, he'll be happy to do it

The night will likely end with you both nearly passed out on the couch, costumes half thrown off as you sprawl over each other, with some B-grade cheesy horror movie running in the background. Though you're both so tired after all you did so it doesn't really matter what's on or what monster or ghost they're talking about. After the night you've had, you're the only boo he cares about

BONUS

König

For some context, he never grew up WITH Halloween. As in, it wasn't really celebrated or much of a thing in his hometown, aside from maybe a few gimmicky commercial things. With him being so far away from others and growing up in a rural community, it wasn't ever really a choice. His parents certainly weren't participating nor would he

He was made aware of it in school but it never particularly appealed to him or was an idea that crossed his mind. He simply shrugged it off most years or downright ignored it. He didn't see why it would be something he would celebrate or participate in himself - interacting with strangers and loud children to give them candy? No thank you. That was until you came around.

Truth be told, he didn't really exactly see the appeal of Halloween. He's surrounded by death, skeletons, and gloom all day - why would he want more of that? Plus, children these days have too much candy, all that processed crap can't be good for them. He's someone who has to be convinced and have it shown from a different point of view. Such as the aspect of being able to be whatever you want to be for a night and not having others judge you for it, but rather encouraging it

Now THAT appeals to him. Despite the fact he's got his social anxiety under control in an iron clad grasp, the trauma of his childhood and being targeted for being different - for simply being himself still have lingering effects to this day. The idea of potentially being accept for just being himself is still something he struggles with and is part of why he's so closed off. Having an entire holiday where people can be who they want, dress up like who they want to be, and have fun with it is greatly appealing

He'll take some time to get used to it but you'll have to get him out there for him to truly feel the spirit(s) of it. He's someone who needs some push when it comes to social things or holiday events to get out of his comfort zone. Just get him to wear a mask (easy, seeing as he does that all day when he's at work), throw on a jacket, and take him out by the hand and show him the wonderful things of it and he WILL warm up

Seeing all the kids having actually happy childhood moments, laughing and running with their peers in ways he could have only dreamed of when he was their age, softens something inside of him

And it only works more when they don't look at him in fear or cower but rather in awe, because he's a big guy - he knows it. And in a costume of any kind, he blends right in and is JUST who kids want to see on Halloween

The blow that finally struck through right to his heart was when you took him by the hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze as you walked with him down the street to take a look at all the decorated houses as trick or treaters ran about. The warmth he felt wasn't just from you being tucked against his side, but rather deep within as you smiled up at him and asked what he would like to be next year. It's not from you being physically there with him alone, it's from the fact you cared enough to BE with him and to show him what he was missing far beyond the surface level alone. It's the fact you even bothered to try and the fact you cared about him enough to try and bring him some joy in a usually bleak world

That's all he needs to hear to already be planning it out in his head as his face flushes. Thank goodness he's wearing the mask. He certainly doesn't know himself but he does know one thing - it's going to be a couples costume. And he's going to be celebrating with you :)