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#Light Has Weight But Darkness Does Not
madlovenovelist · 27 days
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Book Review – ‘Zero In’ (#6 S2 Nameless) by Dean Koontz
A psychic vigilante amnesiac pulls back the curtain like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz. Genre: Thriller, Mystery, Horror No. of pages: 66 This could be the most important mission of Nameless’s life. Because it’s putting him on a collision course with his own past and the nation’s future. The target: a fortified redoubt in the golden hills of California, the hub of a new world order that’s…
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loveindefinitely · 8 months
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task force 141 with a controversially young civilian girlfriend.
-> mentions of large age-gaps, referenced sexual content, alcohol use. afab!fem!reader. minor dubcon (everyone's drunk.)
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thinking that you're studying in uni. working on the side to try and afford rent and, if you're lucky, some noodles every other night. you don't really get seen compared to your friends, who go out clubbing and spend their spare time on dating apps.
one time, your friend drags you to a bar. not usually your scene, considering its clientele is more for tradies, and military-type men. not like the stuck-up blue collar boys at your uni.
cue you getting drunk off your ass, barely even standing, when you bump into one johhny mactavish.
he holds your elbows, your chest crashing into his. gentle with it, too -- kind and sweet and grounding.
"y'alright, lass?" he asks, a small smirk on his face, eyes darting across your frame greedily. he, in all fairness, looks nearly as drunk as you. he stumbles a little with your weight.
you giggle, tilting your head to look at him. say something stupid like, "you don't look like a student."
his brows raise, his dimples deepen. "aye, very smart, hen."
you preen with the compliment, a cheesy grin stuck to your face. you make no move to stand up and leave. you think your friend just left with a guy anyways.
johnny moves you, muscled arm around your waist as he takes you to a booth.
three other men sit in it, only one looking somewhere in a ten-year age bracket to you. they're all impossibly large, filling out the space with ease. your stomach swoops, but you easily blame the alcohol.
manoeuvring you so you sit in his lap, johnny's hand is a comforting weight on your waist. he huffs a laugh.
"didn't realise we were goin' for jailbait, soap," the youngest one chimes, dark features shining in the pub's dim light. his eyes trail your frame silkily.
you can't stop the roll of your eyes -- your inhibitions have made you senseless. "'m not, 'm completely," you drag out the syllables, "legal."
a hand on your thigh makes you jolt, and when you look over, a blonde man with a black medical mask raises an unimpressed brow. "got a problem, kid?"
you shoot him a weak glare. "not a kid. weirdo."
the arm around your waist tightens, as does the weirdo's hand encompassing your thigh.
"not scared of anythin', are you darl'?" the final man in the booth asks, hands folded together where they rest at the table. he looks at least double your age, and that simple fact along with his drawling words has your core tightening.
"what's there to be scared of?" you ask, stupidly. your head tilts to the side, unknowingly moving to rest on johnny's shoulder. he doesn't comment.
"miss bein' young and drunk," gaz sighs, hand softly gripping the gin sat on the table in front of him.
"you look young," your brows furrow, not understanding. how old could he really be, to act so nostalgic of your current predicament? "how old are you guys?"
it's an embarrassing question -- makes you feel like a child all over again. but your interest is quickly peaking, and your need for answers overpowers your need for decorum.
johnny's the one to answer, his lips brushing your ear as he whispers.
"gaz, the pretty one over there, he's twenty-eight," he murmurs, heat stirring low in your gut as you nod mindlessly, meeting gaz's eyes.
johnny stokes his thumb over the skin of your hip, and you curl into him further -- stranger be damned.
"i'm thirty," he hums, and god, he sounds so fucking sensual you're about to melt into his arms. if you aren't already.
"the guy in the mask?" said man's hand tightens impossibly against your skin, fingers just shy of grazing your aching pussy, "he's thirty-seven. got a lot of experience, aye?"
you shudder.
"what about you?" you end up voicing, shyly meeting the last man's gaze. he takes a slow sip of his whiskey.
he leans back into the cushion, eyeing you carefully.
"forty-three."
your thighs squeeze together, and fuck, if that's not a turn-on. no matter how unsafe you should feel, surrounded by four military-grade, older men, it only manages to have you wet beyond belief.
all you can manage is one question.
"take me home?"
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fanaticalthings · 5 months
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I really like the idea of the bat kids designating Dick and Jason's apartments as sibling gathering spots but for opposite reasons.
Sibling needs some comfort? Some eldest daughter advice? A shoulder to cry on or just a lil getaway spot from the chaos of Gotham? Dick's apartment is perfect.
But if a batkid wants to complain, maybe wants to talk shit about Bruce, or maybe even wants to discuss a lil felony in a judgement free zone? Jason's place it is.
And I like to imagine that while Dick readily keeps his doors open and reminds anyone that they can drop by anytime, it's the opposite for Jason.
Dude's got his place riddled with traps and locked up to the high heavens. He makes it obvious he doesn't want visitors, and vaguely insinuates that there are bombs rigged somewhere in his apartment so there's a always a 50/50 chance you might get blown up if he's feeling particularly bitchy one day.
But does that stop his siblings? Absolutely not. Unlike Dick (who assigns himself as the guiding older brother), Jason has been forcefully labelled as the older sibling you go to if you need to complain and stir up havoc. The hundreds of traps in his place mean nothing. And it's worse because Jason is never prepared for when someone drops in.
-----
[Jason, 3 hours into his sleep, blearily waking up to a weight on his chest at 4am]:
[Damian, perched atop him, eyes dead-centre locked onto Jason without blinking]: Hello, Todd-stop screaming it is unbecoming-I just came to tell you that father won't allow me to adopt another stray I found on patrol.
Jason, half-asleep and like 70% sure he's hallucinating: Wha-
Damian: I need you to blow up his car.
Jason:
-----
[Jason, arriving home after a 6 hour patrol, exhausted out of his mind, turning on the lights]:
[Stephanie, previously baking brownies in the pitch black darkness before Jason arrived]: Oh hey! Just thought I'd drop by, y'know, for fun.
Jason: Bruce yelled at you again.
Stephanie: Bruce yelled at me again.
And yes, while most of the time, it ends up as wholesome sibling bonding, sometimes the other batkids just feel like inconveniencing Jason just whenever, because what are siblings for?
[Jason waking up and seeing all of his traps and security systems disarmed and very deliberately broken in a way where he'll have to replace all of them instead of being able to reactivate them]:
[Jason, immediately dialing his phone angrily]: Tim, I swear to GOD-
-----
[Jason giving himself a rest-day and cooking some meals]:
[Dick somersaulting in through the open window unannounced (he missed his brother)]: Whatcha up to, littlewing? :>
Jason: GET OUT-
-----
[Jason casually reading a book, feeling a sudden chill up his spine]:
[Cassandra standing in the corner without so much as an exhale, watching Jason intensely. Who knows how long she's been there]:
Jason: Are you here to kill me
Cass:
Jason: Just make it quick.
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mide404 · 28 days
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Welcome everyone,
To those with compassionate hearts and a spirit of humanitarian giving,
I write to you today with a heavy heart and indescribable sorrow. I have lost my father in this cruel war that has left us with nothing but destruction and ruin. The pain did not stop at the loss of my father; the tragedy extended to claim the lives of my brother's daughter and my sister's daughter, who found no escape from the fires of war.
Today, my family is living a harsh reality. Our home was completely destroyed, and all we have left is a portable tent under which we live, facing extreme weather conditions and difficult days. Life has become harder than ever, and the simple shelter we cling to does not provide us with the minimum safety or comfort.
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We appeal to your kind hearts and all the humanity within you to extend a helping hand by donating to the relief campaign we are trying to launch to save my family from this ongoing suffering. Every donation, no matter how small, will help alleviate our plight and restore some hope to us.
We urgently need assistance, not only to secure a shelter to protect us from the cold of winter and the heat of summer, but also to regain some of the dignity we have lost in these harsh conditions.
We hope to see a glimmer of hope in your donations that will light our dark path.
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neckromantics · 8 months
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More creepy and unsettling, creature Astarion please.
I beg of thee. Vampires are meant to be an uncanny valley type of thing. An undead creature of the night that passes itself as just the right amount of living and mortal for you to let your guard down. I need more examples of his vampiric nature showing once he's grown comfortable enough, and I need it now.
~
An Astarion who is so silent in his movements that you often got jump scared by it in the earlier stages of your relationship.
You'd be lounging around on the sofa. Reading a book, lost in thought, all serene and cozy beneath a nice knitted blanket-- just having an all around nice, relaxing time when you see movement out of the corner of your eye. You glance up for just a moment, to the space before you that was previously unoccupied, and his entire face is suddenly hovering right in front of you.
Just waiting. Not moving. Pupils blown so huge that there's barely any color left to his eyes. Fangs are peeking out over the bruise-purple skin of his bottom lip. He's pallid. White as a corpse. Definitely in need of a good feeding.
His intentions were entirely innocent. He really only meant to ask you a question, and here you are being all dramatic and jumping several feet into the air and throwing your book off to the side in a panic. Thankfully, you're able to catch yourself before you full on shriek in his face.
(You love him and his ghoulishly handsome face, you really and truly do, but you sincerely thought for a moment that he was a spectre come to take you to the afterlife.)
~
Astarion, who routinely forgets to breathe. Yanno, like it's nothing.
You're well aware of the fact that vampires don't need to breathe. It's more of a force of habit than anything else, really-- something left over from when he was still mortal, he says.
Although, during bouts of intense emotion, or some sort of uh, stimulation, the focus on something so trivial gets put on the backburner for a bit.
The two of you will be sharing a particularly passionate kiss (or worse) when you feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest stop short. It's like all of the air has gotten caught in his lungs, and he ends up making these creaky grudge-like sounds in place of his usual low moaning. A clicking in the back of his throat in place of a sigh. If you play your cards just right, there might even be a rattling from deep within his chest that almost sounds like a purr.
When he finally does breathe, usually due to a well executed nip to his bottom lip, or the gentle brush of your fingers against one of his ears as you play with his hair, it comes out as an animalistic hiss. A sharp, choking gasp that sends goosebumps down the length of your arms.
~
How you catch him watching you sleep.
How you'll wake up in the pitch black of your bedroom in a cold sweat. Your hair is stood on end, a fearful shudder threatening to rattle your frame. A spike in your pulse that has your sleep addled brain doing somersaults in your skull. All of your instinctual alarm bells go off at once, telling you that something must be terribly wrong. Something must be watching you.
You try to blink away the bleariness-- try to shake off the fog of sleep for long enough to get your bearings, and catch a glint in the dark so ominous that for a moment you're scared stock still.
Something is watching you. Someone, rather.
Astarion's eyes gleam back at you in the dark like a wild animal's might. A bobcat, maybe, like the ones you'd often find stalking pray outside the tree line of camp all those nights ago. Pupils that glow a filmy, holographic orange despite there being no light to reflect off of them.
You don't notice until after you've taken a second to calm yourself that he's hovering over you. The bed just barely dips from his weight as he supports himself, and you'd be baffled by it all if you had any braincells left.
"Go back to sleep, darling." His voice is so soft, even over the pounding against your eardrums. Soothing. Tranquilizing. And though your eyes do begin to feel heavy, you're not exactly in the mood for rest anymore.
Especially not when he's pressing cold, feather-light kisses down the length of your throat not a moment later.
~
Please, I beg. Give me more.
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alexiroflife · 4 months
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sukuna would kill for you….
just a thought, mentions of assault, violence, but also fluff if you squint
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… and not just in the cutesy, romantic way that held no weight to the promise. no, sukuna will plot and execute someone’s death for you over and over again. as easy as it has been to kill for centuries, it only becomes easier when he’s killing for the sake of your protection
it doesn’t take much to get sukuna riled up on your behalf. he’s quick to jot down names and addresses when you approach him with tears in your lashes, upset over harsh, misogynistic words from your boss or frustrated over an acquaintance who constantly antagonizes you for no reason. it takes one look into your sad eyes and he’s off on a manhunt
you normally advise sukuna not to kill people who have done little things to push your buttons, but that doesn’t stop him from rousing them up a little bit for good measure. he’ll track a rude encounter down, corner them in a secluded area, and beat their ass to a pulp until they’re begging for mercy. only then, when they plead for their life, does sukuna decide he is done and returns home to you. though the fools are beaten so badly they can hardly see out of their swollen eyes by the time he is done, he hasn’t technically killed them so it’s fair game
there is a time, however, when sukuna ignores your wishes and acts on his own accord, and that is when any guy decides to hit on you and not take no for an answer
you’re fuming when you march into his room, face red and fists clenched tightly at your sides. sukuna looks at you with a cocked brow, asking what the hell happened to get you all worked up. you tell him that on your way to his place from work, a man stopped you in your path to ask for your number. you had politely declined, but when you tried to walk past you could feel his hand grope your backside. you were quick to spin on your heel and land a stinging slap to his face that sent his had snapping into the other direction, and then you ran off to sukuna
the king of curses stares ahead and says nothing for moments that feel like hours, then stands abruptly. “what did he look like?” “where was he going?” “where was he coming from?” you barely get the chance to detail his features and the area the interaction occurred in when he’s cutting you off and telling you that he will take care of it. you catch his arm, eyes glossy as you plead him to stay with you and not get himself caught up in too much trouble. he can only promise the former, as he lets you take him to bed for the night
the next day, sukuna finds your assaulter with uraume’s assistance within twenty minutes. your description of his face in addition to the location you saw him hanging around allowed him to discover his LinkedIn profile, which took him to his place of work. sukuna waits outside of the building all day in dark sweats until he sees the culprit leave. he follows silently from afar until he arrives at his nearby apartment. he watches from an alley as the man disappears into the building and minutes later a light flicks on in the third room to the right on the second floor. sukuna knows he’s got him when his face appears in the window to close the blinds
sukuna waits for him to leave his apartment again to go out to grab food, then seizes his opportunity. he scales the building and climbs silently into the home through the window, then waits for his return in the dark. when the front door swings open, it takes your assaulter moments of shifting through the darkness before he finds sukuna’s shadowy figure sitting in his chair, red eyes aglow. he yelps in fear, reaching frantically to flick on the light. sukuna’s teeth grind together, the sight of this scum before him making his skin crawl
“w-who are you?! what are you doing in my house?” sukuna stands and the man stumbles back, cowardice revealing itself. he presses himself against his now locked door as sukuna approaches with a blank face and dark eyes, glaring down at him over his nose. “please! is it money you want? you can have it all, just- just don’t hurt me!”
christ, how pathetic. sukuna watches him tremble, eyes wide and lips quivering as he shivers in the corner of his own home. sukuna clicks his teeth. “what I want is for you to keep your fucking hands to yourself.” he snatches the man’s wrist up in his tight grasp, claws sinking into his skin. the man writhes in horror upon seeing the blood drawn from sukuna’s fingers digging into him. “why don’t we start by getting rid of them, hm?”
sukuna leaves the now blood spattered apartment unit the same way he came, brushing a gunk of brain matter from his sweatshirt with gritted teeth. he wants to come home to you, annoyed with his day out
when he shows up at your door, he lets you wrap your arms tightly around him in relief. his cheek rests on your shoulder boredly as he 'tolerates' your affection. when you ask him where he has been all day, he shrugs and says: “out” and leaves it at that
sukuna would kill for you any day with no hesitation but bides by the one rule you have to keep his hands clean when it comes to insignificant matters. yet when it comes to someone threatening your safety, comfortability, and body all in one, sukuna thinks it’s only right for him to break his promise to you and slaughter the pathetic lowlifes who even so much as think about laying a finger on you
sukuna’s love language is violence. while he may be poor at refraining from making you mad or gaging when to give you verbal affection, he will put somebody in the ground for you in a heartbeat
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pochaccoups · 16 days
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hhu’s love languages (nsfw)
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seungcheol —; biting
oh, how he loves to sink his teeth into your precious skin.
he’ll admit it—it’s a little bit (read: a lot) of a possessive thing. it’s not enough for him to have you face down, ass up, writhing underneath him as he pounds you into tomorrow. he just can’t resist from leaning over you, pressing his broad, sweat-slicked chest to your back, and clamping down on the curve of your neck with his teeth.
it doesn’t help that you say his name so pretty when he does; a breathy, high-pitched moan of two syllables—“cheollie,”—that drives him to insanity.
and it’s not just your neck that falls victim to his bite. it’s his favourite, yes—it’s easily accessible in all of your favourite positions, after all. but no part of you is safe.
when his head is between your legs, he kisses up along your calf, mouths at the fat of your thigh before you feel the soft sting of his teeth sinking into it. only then is he satisfied. only then does he give you what you want: his mouth on your pussy as he eats you out so good it leaves your entire body shaking.
when you’re sat in his lap, bouncing on his cock like a bitch in heat despite the way your thighs burn, his mouth finds your tits like a moth to a flame. they’re sensitive, he knows that, so he’s considerate enough to go a little easier on them, nibbling at the soft skin. he’ll still leave his mark on them, of course, only instead of bite marks he litters your chest with dark little love bites.
he loves nothing more than seeing your reaction to his dirty little habit. when you waddle off to the bathroom and leave him laying there in post-orgasm bliss, a yelp of his name has him grinning and jumping to his feet.
he finds you glaring at the mirror, with your hair a mess and your features flustered from the sight of the perfect teeth indentation on your right shoulder.
“i look like a shark attack survivor! how am i supposed to cover this?” you ask, exasperated.
and the worst thing about choi seungcheol is how hard it is to be mad at him. when he presses himself against you, snakes his arms around your waist, and drops his head to dot kisses all over the mark in question, you find yourself melting into him with an ease like it’s ingrained in you.
eventually, he speaks up, muttering his words into your skin: “don’t cover it.”
wonwoo —; hand holding
wonwoo, your sweet wonwoo. so shy that he gets flustered when you hold his hand in public.
in the dim lighting of your bedroom, though, he’s not so shy. in fact it’s you who’s flustered, your body searing hot, your head spinning from the weight of your boyfriend on top of you.
he’s got you manhandled onto your stomach, kneeling between your spread legs, fucking you like he’s trying to carve the shape of his cock into your very womb. what’s worse is the way his hands, lithe and pretty, take yours, pinning you to the mattress so he can drive his hips harder into you.
“w-wonwoo,” you sob, squeezing and grasping at the fingers that are laced with yours.
“hmm? what’s wrong, pretty girl?” he asks, practically cooing into your ear. “can’t take it?”
“i can,” you whimper, clenching around him, pressing your hips up into his thrusts. to show him.
“yeah, there you go. fuck, take my cock so good, don’t you?”
if you were to try and tell anyone that jeon wonwoo was capable of speaking like this, you’re sure they wouldn’t believe you. the wonwoo who can barely hold your hand in front of others, let alone kiss you? that wonwoo?
it’s the same wonwoo who fucks your face without remorse, who fingers you until you squirt, who eats you out until you can’t feel your legs—that wonwoo. and the best thing about him is that he’ll hold your hand through all of them, even as he abuses your poor cunt, like it’s reassurance. a touch of mercy to remind you he’s still your boyfriend who loves you so much even if he fucks you like an ex.
after all, he is a romantic. what’s more romantic than your pretty boyfriend holding your hands when he’s fucking your brains out?
mingyu —; choking
it may or may not be his habit of playfully grabbing his members by their neck that floods your mind with the idea of being in their place.
you’ve always had a thing for mingyu’s hands, even before you’d started dating him. the sheer size of them, the thickness of his fingers—all of it would have you squeezing your thighs together at just the thought of what he could use them for. (to make you see heaven and above, as you came to find out).
but mingyu is a gentleman in the most literal sense of the word. he’s big, he’s strong, and he compensates for that by treating you like glass. not that he doesn’t fuck you hard when you ask, but putting his hands around your neck is not something that even enters his mind. he’d let himself be struck dead before he’d use his strength to harm you.
fortunately, you’re good at getting your way with him—especially when he’s got his dick buried inside you. every last shred of his rationality goes straight out the window the moment he feels the hot, wet embrace of your pussy around him.
he grabs at your hips, your thighs, your tits; his fingers cling to every inch of your skin to keep himself from falling over the edge of insanity because you’re so fucking tight around him that it’s dizzying.
“gyu,” you moan, and he’s alert in an instant, like a dog called on by its owner, ready for his next command. “choke me?”
his thrusts falter and his features are questioning, yet you don’t miss the way his cock throbs against your walls at your words.
“baby, i don’t know if i should-”
“please, gyu?” you plead, gazing up at him, tightening your thighs where they’re wrapped around your waist. “for me?”
and kim mingyu is many things, but tenacious is not one of them.
when it comes to you he’s hopeless, nothing but a weak fool in love. it’s why he doesn’t stop you when you take him by his wrist and guide his giant hand to sit just above your clavicle. you don’t make him squeeze or anything, you leave that up to him. you just want him to see it, to feel it. to get a glimpse into the fantasy you’ve been keeping from him.
his hips slow, his eyes darkening as he gazes down at you with an affection you’ve never seen from him. gently, his fingers, which almost wrap around the entire circumference of your neck, start to press. it’s barely enough pressure to tickle, but fuck, it’s so hot it sends your eyes rolling back.
suddenly mingyu gets it. adrenaline flushes through his body and goes straight to his cock—it’s a sight he wants etched into his brain forever. your eyes hazy, a tiny, content smile on your kiss-swollen lips, his massive hand gripping your neck as he fucks you with a new kind of fervour. he gets it, and he can’t believe he didn’t get it sooner.
you can see it clearly—how, in just a matter of time, he’ll have his forehead pressed to yours, his cock grazing the spot that has you seeing stars over and over while his hand cuts off your airflow, choking you hard, the way you’ve always wanted.
vernon —; spitting
is it cliche and predictable to assign him this? maybe. but what if he’s not the one doing the spitting?
he’s a little bit obsessed with letting you do what you want with him. it’s not a dom or sub thing—vernon’s an easygoing guy in all aspects of life, and if you feel like sitting in his lap and making out with him until you’re both gasping for air, the last thing he’ll do is complain.
his favourite thing of all is when you ride him. fuck, everything about you is mesmerising; the way you grind your hips over his cock so expertly, the way you brace your hands against his chest, letting your nails rake into his skin ever so often, the way your head tips backwards and your moans spill out in the sweetest song.
vernon gazes up at you like you put the stars in the sky, like you brought about life itself, like he can’t believe he’s the one who gets to see you like this. his eyes, dark, round, and glimmering, are a picture of how enamoured he is with you. he has no idea how crazy it drives you.
it’s natural the way your hand reaches for his cheek, the way your thumb moves to glide over his lips, soft and puffy. vernon falls in love for the millionth time when you dip it inside his mouth, push it gently against his tongue, gathering up his spit on the tip of your finger. it makes his dick jump to be at your mercy like this. his hips buck up into yours, desperate to drive himself even deeper into the addictive heat of your cunt.
you press his mouth open, just slightly, just enough, and lean forward. a pearl of your saliva, of you, lands in the centre of his tongue, and he doesn’t have time to swallow it before your mouth finds his, kissing him with greed. it’s messy—lips smacking, your moans mingling with his, but the thing about vernon is that you cannot get enough of him. even though he’s inside you and you’re skin to skin with and your mouths are connected.
you pull away, your grin cat-like, your attention shifting back to the stretch of his cock as you bounce up and down him with a newfound desperation.
“god, you’re hot,” he whispers, his own lips quirking into a fucked-out smile.
“yeah? you like it when i spit in your mouth, hansollie? so dirty,” you reply.
he doesn’t last much longer after that.
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ervotica · 6 months
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MDNI pairing; simon "ghost" riley x fem!reader warnings; smut (18+ ONLY), rough rough sex, heavy choking, breathplay & asphyxiation in a controlled environment, loss of consciousness, multiple orgasms, simon is mean but in a sweet way, pre-established consent, subspace (may write a part two of the aftercare if that's something you lot would be interested in!) a/n; this is my first cod fic so go easy on me please!! my cod requests and thirst discussions are wide open (like me for simon ngl) so if you have anything you want to talk about or request PLEASE don't hesitate to pop it in my inbox!
Really, you did this to yourself.
You're the one who asked Simon to be rough, to manhandle you, to fuck you hard and deep until you forget your own name.
He does just that.
He's got your back anchored to his firm chest by means of a thick bicep curled around your throat, restricting your airways just enough until the world tunes out around you, everything a little fuzzy as he pistons his hips into your soft cunt; all you can feel is him, the way the fat head of his cock nestles deep against your cervix, the drag of it against your walls as he pulls out only to force you wide open again for him.
You're far past forming coherent words, eyes rolling and lashes fluttering when he hikes you further up by the soft column of your throat until you arch against his chest, limp and pliable like putty under the control of those experienced hands. Your cunt drools with each rocking movement, excreting more of the milky fluid as the vein that runs against the underside of his cock- purple and angry with his arousal- creates a delicious friction against your pulsing insides.
You garble something entirely unintelligible when that corded arm tightens around your neck, your mouth hanging open as you drool like a leaky tap, kiss-bitten lips gaping when you halfheartedly attempt to form something that isn't completely inarticulate.
You can't even warn him before you're cumming on the length of him with a silent cry, your muscles pulling tight like a bowstring as you quiver under his expert touch before you're falling limp, dead weight in his arms. His spare hand reaches up and over to deliver a firm slap to your cheek in an effort to rouse you from your haze, but you only sink further into that blissful headspace where nothing matters except the way that he's fucking you.
You're not sure you could beg him for more if you tried despite so desperately wanting it. Your sticky cunt weeps over his cock, running in a stream downward until his heavy balls are saturated in your sweet juices, your body twitching weakly when the pleasure washes over you once again.
"There you go, baby," he murmurs, fisting your hair into a ponytail at the back of your head until he's snapping your head up, those eyes hungrily surveying your wrecked expression– eyes blackened with mascara from crying on his cock, lids barely open in your daze, lips swollen and flushed dark with colour. If he were to release his bruising grip on you, you'd crumple, entirely unable to hold yourself up. "My good, good girl. You gonna let me give you one more?"
You whine something that neither one of you understand, but the nod of your head and the way your eyes light up as you drag yourself from bliss just enough to affirm has him resuming his movements, hiking his knee up and over your hip to give him deeper access to fuck you; his pace quickens and you're damn near wailing by the time he grabs your bobbing throat, all hulking six foot four of him tipping forward until your airway is near completely cut off and your noises are silenced by the flexing muscles.
"Easy, love, take it easy," he murmurs, demands really, cadence gravelly but saccharine sweet, a stark juxtaposition to his cruel touch; you're barrelling towards another orgasm, entire body alight and burning with a pleasure that's damn near unbearable; your arse is slick and bruised, branded by his touch as his hips slap lewdly against you.
It hits you like a freight train, every muscle pulling tight and then suddenly liquifying all at once– and as the pleasure ebbs away, you're hit with the frightening realisation that you truly can't breathe. You force a limp hand up to claw at the tense muscles clamped around your neck, a pained, gasping little noise breaking free of the confines of your chest. But still, he doesn't let up. The room spins and shrinks around you, darkness creeping in at the corners until it's consumed you. His voice is dark and unyielding against the shell of your ear.
"Let it happen," he says. "'ve got you. Don't fight it."
It's not like you have much of a choice anyway as your head drops, hair hanging loosely around your face when you fall headfirst into darkness.
When you come to, you're flat on your back, no longer speared on the thick length of him as he lazily pumps his cock, pressing your knees upward against your chest in order to have ample room to torture your throbbing cunt with calloused fingers.
"There she is." Simon grins when you whimper and reach up for him, gazing through sticky lashes with those teary eyes he adores. He indulges you, coming forward to smear a quick kiss to the crown of your skull before he's gathering your slick with the head of his cock, breaching your sore entrance once again.
That night, you're sure you meet God.
And he looks an awful lot like Simon Riley.
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peachesofteal · 4 months
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Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader - warnings: panic attack, PPD
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"Does tomorrow morning work? I'll be heading to base immediately after. Want to make sure I have enough time to say goodbye."
"Yeah, we'll see you then."
Simon goes to bed early that night.
He's good at clearing his mind and willing himself to sleep, hovering just barely there on the surface, never dipping too deep, and has done it for years. It enables his ability to rest in even some of the most uncomfortable circumstances (and that includes Johnny's snoring). It's compartmentalizing at it's finest, something he's tried to impress upon the sergeants too, over time.
Learn how to do this. It may save your life.
The pendulum swing keeps him somewhat aware, connected to a very small piece still tethered to the conscious world.
It's how he hears his phone ring at twenty hundred.
The caller ID flashes your name and he picks up immediately, sitting straight up. "Hey-"
"Hi, um..." You're crying. He flips himself out of bed, already partially dress, and manages to locate his shoes in a millisecond.
"What's wrong?"
"Can you... can you c-come- take the baby for a little while?" Your exhale whistles through the phone sharply. "P-please. I know you- you're leaving tomorrow but I-"
"It's alright, I'm on my way. I'll be there in a minute. Are you okay?"
"I- I... don't know wh-what to do." You're hyperventilating, caught in the grip of something, scared and alone. The sidewalk stretches for miles, his lungs burning as the oxygen stays trapped in his chest from the weight of his fear, and the line goes quiet, call ending as he makes it to the lobby of your building and up the stairs.
The copy of your key he never returned gets him inside, and the first thing he notices, or realizes, is Orion's screaming. He calls your name, yells it, beelining for the nursery where the baby lays on his back, hands and feet wriggling wildly in the air, tears coursing down his cheeks as he wails. "Alright, Ry, alright. C'mere, I've got you." You're not in here, not anywhere in sight, and his stomach flips.
You have to be here. He just talked to you.
But you wouldn't know how to signal him if something was really wrong, would you? He didn't prepare you. If something happened, how would you tell him?
He tucks Orion into his arms, cradles him to his chest, and bounces him gently. "Hey, you're okay, you're okay. What's all this crying about, hmm? What is it? Where's your mama?" The crying gentles, barely, and Simon holds him at a distance, quickly, checking him over. He's not overheated, he doesn't seem to be hurt, he's freshly bathed and in a clean onesie. His nappy is new and doesn't need to be changed. "Mama took good care of you, huh? You're all clean, fresh nappy, ready for bed, aren't you bub? Yeah." Simon paces in a circle, trying to settle his cries, before lowering him back into the crib. "You stay right here, little man, alright? Close your eyes. Daddy's gonna find mama and he'll be right back."
You're not in the living room, and he finds your bedroom dark when he opens the door. For a very brief moment, his panic blooms into paralyzation, before he spots the light from your bathroom.
His heart breaks when he opens the door.
You're on the floor, back against the vanity, sobbing with your palms covering your ears. You look like you haven't showered in days, and your light blue t shirt is soaked, slicked to your breasts and belly.
There's no distance between the two of you in this moment, no barriers, no time, no need for space. He kneels, and you look up, tearful eyes telling him all he needs to know. "I'm here, mama. I've got you."
You go into his arms willingly, diaphragm heaving with tiny hiccups and sobs, unable to catch your breath. Your entire body shakes, and wraps himself around you, holding you tight where you've buried your face in his chest. "I- I'm s-sorry." You're hoarse, voice cracked and broken. "He w-won't stop."
"Shhh, don't worry about that right now, just take a deep breath." You shake your head.
"I can't."
"Yes you can." You're frozen, panicked, and he smoothes his hand over your head. "You can do it, honey. Try f'me." The baby is still crying, and with the bathroom door slightly ajar, it bounces off the tile, all around you. Simon grimaces.
He's fine, he's safe. He's in his crib.
Simon shuts the door.
"Breathe with me, alright?" he maneuvers you so that you're in his arms, laying on his chest, face tipped back to his. "Just follow me," he pulls the hand that's gripping onto his forearm like rebar away and places it over his heart, "like this." You try and try to sync your breathing with his, and once you finally get there, evening out slowly, he kisses your hair. "There you go, good girl."
Simon keeps you close, happy to hold you, even if it was in these circumstances. It's so selfish, so wrong, but he can't find it in himself to let you go, waiting long past the point when you've calmed down to finally speak again. "Can you tell me what happened?"
"He... he wouldn't stop crying. For hours and I... I tried everything, but I felt like I couldn't breathe and I felt... dizzy, and when I went to feed him he didn't want me and I was crying too, but I felt so- so mad at the same time, and I didn't know what to do so I j-just put him in his crib and came in here and c-called you. I don't kn-know what I did wrong-" your breathing slips into shallow territory again, and he rubs your back.
"You didn't do anything wrong. He's okay, he's safe. He's even got a fresh nappy on. You made sure you took care of him, which is all you need to do, okay?"
"I feel awful," you whisper, drenched in shame, "he needs to eat, and I just- I abandoned him."
"No, you did the right thing and took a break. There's nothing wrong with taking a break." You sniffle, pulling the sopping shirt away from your body, shivering with discomfort. "Do you want to try again? See if it goes any better?" You give him a frightened look, unsure and nervous. "I'll be right here with you."
"Okay."
"Let's go see your mama." Orion has worked himself into a state, and it tears Simon to pieces, guilt about leaving him in here ripping through his heart.
He feels responsible. He is responsible, at the end of the day. If he had been upfront with you from the beginning, this might have never happened. He would have been here. You would have the support you need.
He was supposed to take care of you, but all he did was make it worse.
He kisses Orion gently. It helps quell the anxiety growing like a plague inside him, worry and fear about leaving you on your own for weeks, or more, chipping away at his resolve. He tells himself you'll be okay, that you did it on your own before he came along, and that you can do it again, but the admission of another dizzy spell doesn't make him feel any better in the long run.
"Don't worry, she's okay now. She loves you so much, you know that? She takes such good care of you, all the time. Even when she doesn't feel good, doesn't she?" He doesn't turn the lights on to your bedroom, and finds you on the bed, sitting up, wet shirt discarded on the floor. He doesn't rush it, doesn't push you, even though the baby cries at the top of his lungs in Simon's arms.
Finally, you hold your hands out. He helps get Orion settled, stroking his cheek over and over until he starts to instinctually seek you out, latching after a few long minutes.
Your eyes slip closed at the silence and you lean to the side, nestling into Simon's chest.
He holds you. You hold his baby.
How it was always meant to be.
He whispers above your ear, working his fingers into the knots of your neck, your shoulders. "You're doing great, mama." You hum but stay quiet, head down, fingers stroking over Ry's cheek, again and again.
"Thank you... for being here. I know things are complicated but it means a lot that you would come. I'm sorry I freaked out, about your job. I just... it's a lot to take in. I don't really know how to feel. I need some time." That's good, he thinks. Better than last week, when you asked him to leave with tears in your eyes. There's hope. He can fix this.
"You can have all the time you want sweetheart, but... I need to ask you a favor." Orion's body full relaxes, little fist clenched in the swell of your breast falling away, and you sigh.
"What is it?"
"When I'm away... I can turn my phone on every now and then, in specific places. D'you think you could send me some pictures? Or maybe I could call, when I'm able?"
"Of course."
He stays most of the night, until the sun comes up. Gets Ry back down, stands watch while you're in shower, helps you get settled in bed. There's a special place in his heart for you when you're soft and sweet and sleepy, a tiny kitten, curling up in the palm of his hand, purring. His moon. His everything.
"You be good for your mama, okay? I expect a good report when I get home. And try not to grow too much, alright little man?" He kisses his head, holding it there, walking around in the kitchen with Ry in his arms. "I love you, Orion. You and your mama. I'll be home real soon."
You turn the corner, something clenched in your hands, what, he can't tell, and you smile sadly. "I uh... I have something for you." He cocks, his head, shifting the baby to one arm, and you hold your fist out. "It's kind of dumb, honestly, but I thought you might... I don't know. I thought you might like it. I made it myself." It's a small fabric square, embroidered with a constellation, Orion's, he recognizes now, and a compass. "It's so you can always find it in the night sky. If you're in the northern hemisphere it should be south west, and if you're in the southern, it's in the north west. I didn't know like, what you could take with you but I figured this is small enough..." You look embarrassed, and all he wants to do is pull you into his arms and kiss you.
But he can't. He can only whisper your name, thick with emotion.
"It's great. I'll use it every night. Thank you." You blink, eyes wet, and then nod. He glances at his watch.
"Time to go?"
"Yeah," he hands you the baby, and picks up his duffle, the weight foreign now but still familiar. "Take care of yourself, alright?"
"I will."
"Promise me." He's stern, pushing a little bit of lieutenant into it, and you agree again, quickly.
"I will." You follow him to the door, holding Orion up for him to kiss one last time, and then he presses his mouth to your forehead, pleased when you don't pull away. He's dragging it out, the reluctance too ripe, and finally hangs his head in defeat after the too short minutes tick away.
"I'll see you soon." He gives you one last look, memorizing your face, Orion's, as much as he can, before heading down the hall.
"Simon," you call, turning him on a dime, "be careful, okay? Make sure... make sure you come home." Home.
"I will. I promise."
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sttoru · 10 months
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‘your lover may not be the best in showing his affection for you, but when he does try, it’s always in the ways you least expect.’
☀︎|tags. toji fushiguro x female reader. fluff, slight angst, suggestive. subtly implied age gap (reader early 20’s, toji early 30’s). size difference. mentions of hickeys. reader gets called ‘princess / little girl.’ based on an anon request.
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“am home.” toji announces under his breath after locking the front door. he kicks his shoes off and makes a beeline towards your shared bedroom. as expected, you were there, body wrapped in a thick blanket to protect it from the recently cold temperatures.
you smile and toji’s fatigue becomes nonexistent. it was like he hadn’t just fought for his life for almost two hours straight — making money to quite literally survive. and to provide for you in the best way he could.
“ah, hi, babe! welcome hom—” your sentence was cut short by a heavy weight settling down atop your chest. toji’s body presses you back into the mattress, big hands instantly searching for their desired destination; that being your waist.
his warm breath - the heavy sigh that carried his worries - instantly softens the look in your eyes. it was this vulnerable side of your lover that you adored most. it wasn’t a sight you got to see often after all.
toji wordlessly attaches his lips to your exposed neck as he withdraws the blanket from your body. even though he has yet to utter a single word to you, his actions told you all, “missed you, toji.”
he mumbles something incoherent in response which you could guess were words of acknowledgement. you were ticklish, your skin tingling with every peck left by the dark-haired man whom you loved dearly.
“were ya waitin’ for me?” toji’s voice was muffled, his mouth busy kissing and sucking your skin. his rough fingers move under your clothes and run up to your shoulders—freeing them from the straps of your top.
you tilt your head to the right so he could gain more access to your skin. you didn’t protest nor said anything about toji’s sudden display of affection. you rub his back and allow a hum of satisfaction to escape your throat, “mhm. was waiting for you all night.”
your voice sounds like a soothing lullaby to the older man. a heavy breath leaves his lips and his sloppy kisses on your neck and shoulder blades abruptly come to a halt.
toji rests his head in the crook of your neck. the pad of his thumb travels up and down the marks he had left—his saliva subtly glistening under the light from the bedside lamp.
“tsk. i told ya not to stay up f’me, princess.” your lover grumbles with his tired eyes half-closed, fingers not stopping their rubbing motion, “but i guess there’s no point in tellin’ you that right now.”
toji still can’t understand why you go to great lengths to show your love for him. he’s a cold hearted assassin, a man whom is feared by many including his own clan and yet you love him unconditionally.
despite it all — he still appreciates the fact that you stay up to welcome him home. even if he may not directly show that said appreciation.
“‘i told ya not to stay up for me,’” you teasingly mimic toji’s deep voice and can only laugh at your own antics afterwards. however, a sudden pinch to your side makes you squirm and yelp. it didn’t stop there; toji took the opportunity whilst you were caged underneath him to remind you of who’s boss.
soon enough your high pitched squealing and broken giggles is all the noise that fills the room.
“whadd’ya say there, little girl?” toji grunts as he blocks your futile attempts to escape. he could see the tears gathering at the corners of your eyes, your body writhing around the best it could and your little hands trying desperately to push him away.
you shake your head and continuously apologise between loud giggles, vision blurry from the tears of joy. there’s a triumphant smirk on toji’s face once he notices how quickly you gave up your act of confidence, “heh, that’s what i thought.”
one of his hands gathers both of your wrists and effortlessly pins them above your head. with a grin, your lover kisses his way down to your neck again — this time being more passionate.
you take the chance to calm yourself down, chest still heaving with each breath. a pout forms on your lips, but was swiftly replaced by a content smile due to the giddy feeling in your chest.
it’s playful moments like these that remind you of the many reasons why you’ve fallen in love with a man like toji. to others, he might be nothing but a monster—a ruthless and cruel individual—but to you, he’s everything you need and vice versa.
toji’s lips were soft, yet lightly rough to the touch. they’re chapped from the cold temperature he had to withstand when he was outside. you felt bad; you had been laying in bed all night, wrapped up in multiple blankets whilst your lover was quietly suffering.
you know that if you tell toji your current worries, he’ll brush it off with a simple ‘tha’s just how it is’ or a ‘don’t worry ‘bout stuff like that’. still, you cannot help but be concerned about the way he easily disregards his own health.
“toji,” you call out his name as his kisses reach the curve of your breasts. the older man lifts his head in response, eyebrows slightly raised at the sound of his name leaving your lips.
you push down the lump in your throat. your warm hands cup his face and you could feel his stubble prickling your palms. you lower your gaze to the rest of his body — finally getting a good look at his worn out physique.
there were faint droplets of blood hidden right under the collar of his shirt. ones toji probably forgot to wipe away after his mission. his black shirt clings to his torso, the dark spots of sweat subtly evident and the small tears in the fabric proof of his hard work.
you could care less about the fact that toji hadn’t taken a shower before cuddling with you. the first thing he did when stepping into the apartment, was to search for you. that alone told you enough: he needed the comfort your presence brings him — he just didn’t know how to convey that message.
“kiss me.” you whisper and your lover immediately complies with zero hesitation; that’s exactly what he had waited for you to say. his lips crash down onto yours, his large hands hold you by your waist and his tongue brushes against yours like it was the first and last time you’d kiss.
toji’s breath hitches the moment he feels you tenderly scratch his arms with your nails. you always do that to calm his nerves after a stressful day—grazing the tips of your nails back and forth against his bare skin. and it works wonders each time.
“fuck,” the dark-haired man curses in a low tone. his grip tightens on your body and his lips detach from yours. you notice the look in his eyes once he opens them; the look of pure love for you, “i missed you so much — so fuckin’ much.”
you softly giggle at his passionate words and steal another kiss from him before settling back against the pillows. your hands travel upwards to play with his damp hair whilst your legs wrap around his waist.
toji gladly accepts your affection and settles down on top of your body again, careful not to completely crush you with his weight. his face was buried between your breasts, taking in the familiar scent of you which calms him down even more.
“i’m glad you’re back home.” you whisper lovingly whilst continuing to massage his scalp. your tired lover answers with a curt nod and a sigh — this time one of content instead of exhaustion.
“yeah, home.” toji wasn’t referring to your shared apartment. he was referring to you; his forever home. there was an overwhelming amount of love in his heart for you and only you.
if only he could properly express those feelings to you. if only he could express himself.
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pucksandpower · 3 months
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Insomniac
Toto Wolff x wife!Reader
Summary: you’re tired of falling asleep in an empty bed due to your workaholic husband’s sleepless nights
Based on this request
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You rub your eyes and blink a few times, adjusting to the soft glow of the lamp on the end table as you lift your head from the couch cushion.
2:17 AM.
Again.
This makes the fifth night in a row that you’ve fallen asleep alone on the living room sofa, having given up on the hope of Toto joining you in your shared bed upstairs. The cashmere blanket wrapped around your legs does little to ward off the chill of the night, and you suppress a shiver as you sit up.
With a sigh, you slide out from under the afghan, the plush carpet soft under your bare feet as you quietly make your way out of the living room and down the hall. The sliver of light peeking out from underneath the closed door of the study confirms your suspicions — Toto is still awake, still working at this ungodly hour.
Ever since the news broke that Lewis would be leaving Mercedes for Ferrari at the end of the season, Toto has been unable to relax. He barely sleeps, poring over stats and projections deep into the night as he tries in vain to figure out how to move forward.
You know he feels responsible — for building the team into what it is, for leading it to seven constructors’ titles, for creating an environment where Lewis could thrive. Letting him go feels like a monumental failure in Toto’s eyes, even though rationally there was nothing else to be done. Lewis’ mind was made up.
But knowing how reasonable a decision it was does nothing to quiet the ceaseless chatter of Toto’s anxious thoughts. He second guesses himself constantly, running through hypotheticals and what-ifs over and over.
What if he had offered more money? More freedom? What if he had anticipated Lewis’ wandering eyes and somehow convinced him to stay? But you know better than anyone that his hands were tied — Mercedes’ board of directors simply would not cooperate with his suggestions.
You understand Toto’s anguish, but his sleepless agonizing is starting to take a toll. The dark circles under his eyes are more pronounced than ever, and the weight of his responsibilities hangs heavily from his slumped shoulders. His embraces are no longer as warm, his kisses no longer as tender. He retreats into his own head, consumed by doubts and regrets, and you feel him slipping away day by day.
Enough is enough, you decide. If Toto won’t take care of himself, then you will have to take matters into your own hands.
You tiptoe to the kitchen and quietly replace Toto’s usual late-night dark roast with decaf. It won’t stop him from working, but at least it won’t add fuel to the fire of his racing thoughts.
After preparing for bed yourself, you head down the hall, suppressing a shiver as your bare feet meet the cool wood floors. Pausing outside the study door, you turn the thermostat down just a couple degrees. It’s a subtle change, but you know Toto will notice, and it just might make him long for the warmth of your shared bed.
Taking a breath, you gently rap your knuckles against the door and let yourself in. Toto is exactly where you expected, hunched over his desk with his brows furrowed, staring fixedly at his laptop screen.
“Hey,” you say softly so as not to startle him. “It’s getting pretty late, I’m going to head to bed.”
“Mmhmm,” he murmurs absently, barely glancing up.
You stifle a yawn, stretching your arms over your head. “Are you coming?” You ask hopefully.
“In a bit,” Toto mumbles. “I just need to finish this analysis.”
You sigh, walking over to him and sliding your arms around his shoulders. “Toto, please,” you plead, nuzzling into his neck. “Come to bed. You need to rest.”
He reaches up to give your hand a quick, distracted pat. “Soon, liebling. I promise.”
Accepting that you won’t sway him now, you kiss his stubbly cheek and head for the door. “Don’t stay up too much longer,” you implore, then make your way back down the hall.
Once in your bedroom, you go through your regular bedtime routine, brushing your teeth and washing your face. But instead of climbing into your big empty bed, you find yourself wandering further down the hall to the nursery.
Pushing open the door, you pause to gaze at your sleeping infant daughter in her crib, her little chest rising and falling with soft even breaths. The corner of the room holds a cozy cushioned rocking chair, and you sink down into it with a yawn, the lateness of the hour finally catching up to you. Your eyes drift closed as you let the gentle motion lull you towards sleep.
You’re not sure how much time has passed when you feel strong arms sliding under your knees and behind your back, lifting you from the chair. You let out a soft murmur, still more asleep than awake, as Toto carries you from the nursery. Resting your head against his chest, you breathe in his familiar scent as he brings you down the hall to your bedroom.
Gently, he lays you down on your bed, brushing a wisp of hair back from your face as he pulls the covers up around you. Through bleary eyes, you see him cross to the dresser and begin shedding his clothes, swapping his button-down and slacks for a t-shirt and pajama bottoms. Finally, he climbs in beside you with a weary sigh, and you immediately nestle against him, seeking his warmth.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your forehead as his arms encircle you.
You lift your head to meet his tired blue eyes. “It’s okay,” you murmur. “I know this has been hard for you.”
He shakes his head slightly. “That’s no excuse. You shouldn’t have to deal with my restlessness.”
You reach up to cup his cheek. “We’re in this together, remember?” You remind him gently. “For better or worse.”
The corners of his mouth twitch in a hint of a smile. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”
“Hmm, I don’t know if it’s come up,” you tease.
He gives you a playful little squeeze. “Well I do. So much.” His voice grows more serious then. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m thankful for you every day.”
You grin and snuggle impossibly closer. “Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr. Wolff.”
His low chuckle rumbles pleasantly against your cheek. “I mean it though. You’re my rock. My safe place. With everything going on ...” He trails off with a heavy exhale.
Reaching for his hand, you lace your fingers through his and give a supportive squeeze. “I know. But it’s going to be okay. Mercedes will find their way again, with you leading the charge. You’re the heart and soul of this team, Toto. You brought them this far, and you’ll bring them even further.”
“I wish I had your confidence,” he admits softly. “I just hope I can live up to it.”
“You will,” you say without hesitation. “You’re the most driven, passionate person I know. Your commitment is unmatched. If anyone can navigate these changes, it’s you.”
Toto is quiet for a moment, his thumb gently caressing your knuckles. “Thank you,” he says finally. “Just … thank you. For believing in me. For supporting me. For loving me, even when I’m being a stubborn arschloch.”
You grin. “Well, you’re my stubborn arschloch. And I wouldn’t change a thing.”
He laughs then, the sound warm and rich, and you feel some of the tension leave his body.
“No more working until sunrise though, okay?” You implore, threading your fingers through his hair. “You need to take care of yourself too.”
He nods, eyes shining with affection. “Okay. I promise.”
Satisfied, you nestle against his chest once more, comforted by the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. His lips find the top of your head in a tender kiss.
“I love you,” he murmurs into your hair. “So very much.”
You smile softly, already drifting towards sleep in the safety of his arms.
“I love you too,” you whisper. And with a contented sigh, you surrender to the pull of peaceful slumber, the two of you wrapped up in each other as you should be.
No more empty beds or sleepless nights. Just the comforting nearness of the man you love.
Your partner.
Your home.
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madlovenovelist · 2 months
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Book Review – ‘Corkscrew’ (#5 S2 Nameless) by Dean Koontz
A peek behind the curtain for vigilante Nameless and his mysterious handlers…. Genre: Thriller, Mystery, Horror No. of pages: 54 A terrorist attack in the news leaves Nameless reeling from a disturbing vision. But it’s not a glimpse of the future. It’s a recovered memory that’s opening a window into his mysterious past. Uncharacteristically forthcoming—and unexpectedly personal—Nameless’s…
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stevieschrodinger · 4 months
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This is not how Steve wanted to spend his afternoon.
Actually, he’s found himself doing a lot of things he hasn't wanted to since Starcourt burned down but, honestly, this is probably right up there.
God it’s disgusting.
But he had to try. All the kids had looked at him with their stupid hang dog faces, so he said he’d try. Which is why he’s at lovers lake, freezing his ass off in the water and nipple deep into the shrubbery, ripping slimy crappy weeds and grass out of the muddy lake bed.
At least Robin got in with him. She’s shivering in her bathing suit, but she’s gamely holding onto the cooler as it floats in the water, so at least there’s that.
The bin full Upside Down vines next to the tank hadn't made much sense at the time, but it became apparent pretty fucking fast when the fish creature in Steve’s pool hadn’t eaten for forty eight hours, and Steve was now, finally, sober enough and not concussed enough to put two and two together.
Hopefully this works though; all the kids have, obviously, become immediately like, fucking pack bonded with the thing. Man. Fish Man.
El and Max keep insisting he’s a mermaid – Merman? Merdude? - like he’s something out of a fairy tail and is all magical and shit.
Steve takes a breath and ducks down again, having felt something hairy and frond like with his exploring toes.
“You think this is enough? Like as a fair test?” Robin rocks the half full cooler forward and Steve peeks in.
And alright, Steve just doesn’t want to fucking be here at all, so he says, “yep, looks good,” as they share a lightly guilty look.
It might not work at all, of course, so their wanting to give up is legitimate. They can always come back when it’s warmer if the fish man does eat this shit.
He certainly isn’t interested in the raw fish the kids have been trying to feed him – Steve’s going to be eating fish for a fucking month with what’s in his freezer now, and don’t those reprobates realize the price of fucking prawns??
The fish man wasn’t interested in meat either, not raw, not cooked – even though Dustin insisted that because of his ‘forward facing eyes’, ‘claws,’ and ‘slightly pointed teeth,’ he must be a predator Steve! The vines must have just been for, in his tank, or whatever, Steve!
Whatever.
Steve’s here to prove them wrong, and Robin’s backing him up.
The kids have gone home when they get back, which is a fucking relief. Even with the heaters in the car on full, Steve still feels cold in his bones. His skin warm and tingly, but the shivers still locked inside; him and Robin head for separate bathrooms without even really talking about it, fishboy has survived this long, he can do another twenty minutes.
Steve finds the biggest sting of kelpy weedy seaweedy stuff from the lake, and drags the tip of it in the pool. It’s dark out, the light from in the house reflecting on the surface of the pool, making it impossible to see where the creature might be hiding; until he disturbs the surface, a few seconds later.
Steve splashes the end in the water, “here fishy fishy fishy.”
“Steve,” Robin elbows him.
“What, it’s not like he has a name,” Steve doesn’t look at her though, he’s watching that strange pair of eyes come closer. They reflect the light strangely, like a wild animal in the headlights. His dark hair is plastered to the top of his head, being wet, and everything else is submerged.
Steve knows he can breathe fine for at least an hour out of the water though; that’s how long the rescue took. And then the bathtub; he was fine in there for a day while they drained the pool of chlorinated water and refilled it with fresh. And it was easy enough to get him in there; if he was human, Steve would say that fish dude was starving to death. Concave stomach, all his ribs clearly visible, pale flesh pulled too tight over the knobs of his spine. Steve had lifted him easily, the sad curl of his dull black tail hardly adding any weight to him. He felt frail, breakable; like a bird.
If there’s any lingering chemical in there, it doesn’t seemed to have hurt fishguy, but then a creature from the upside down must be tolerant to plenty, Steve thinks, imagining the constant fall of ashy dust from the dark sky.
The creature cautiously approaches, and when he’s near enough, there’s a gentle tug on the weed, like the most cautious of bites on a line. Steve lets go, and both fish guy and weed disappear under the water.
“Do you think it worked?” Robin whispers, like they’re viewing a skittish wild animal. Which, they kind of are.
“Don’t know,” Steve whispers back, unable to stop himself. There’s just something about someone whispering to you that’s irresistible; it’s like an unavoidable instinct to follow suit.
“How will we know if it’s worked?”
“Dunno. Try another? See if he takes it?” Steve’s just about to break open the cooler again when the head pops up. All of it, this time.
He has dark hair. So dark it looks black; thick and ropey, it kind of reminds Steve of the vines of the upside down. His face is...pretty much human; just very pale. When he’s got his mouth shut, hiding the slight point of those teeth, nothing would give him away.
He lifts a hand out of the water, offering something to Steve who, gingerly but reflexively, takes it.
It’s the stalk of the weed. The leaves are gone, and the fleshy green of the outside has been carefully stripped off; use for those pointy teeth. Steve guesses all the plant material of the upside down is actually probably quite sturdy and quite hard to eat. It probably also has the nutritional value of wet cardboard.
Steve offers another weed, and the fish dude doesn’t leave this time. Steve watches as he eats; quick, practiced movements, trimming leaves with his claws, rolling them, eating them, then just as Steve suspected, using his sharp teeth to strip the outer stalk of all it’s fleshy wet goodness.
Steve doesn’t shudder at the thought of the mud at the bottom of Lovers Lake.
“Steve one, Henderson zero,” Robin says quietly, the fish man tipping his head to the side, as if he’s listening. Steve’s seen it a lot, the amount that the kids chatter at him, but the fish guy tends to stay at the other end of the pool to them. Watching. Nervous, and frightened, if Steve had to put a label on it.
But then, wouldn’t anyone be? Stolen from your world by unrecognizable creatures in hazmat suits. Shoved in a tank. Probably experimented on.
The whole thing sounds shitty.
Steve offers another weed, and the fish guy repeats the process, floating closer still, “Robin, humor me, go and see what’s in the crisper drawer.”
She follows his logic immediately, “on it.”
Steve watches the creature, the fish man, and the fish man watches Robin warily, moving away from the edge again a little, but coming back when Steve offers another frond.
He takes it, strips it, hands it back.
“We need a name for you man, I can’t just keep calling you ‘fish dude’ and ‘creature’ in my head.”
Steve looks over at the house, figuring he has another minute before Robin comes back, he taps the middle of his chest, fishguys strangely gimlet eyes tracking to movement from his too thin face, “Steve.”
Nothing. He tries again, pointing to himself and tapping, “Steve,” and then pointing to the creature, trying to get him to understand.
Fish guy swims a little closer, raising a hand out of the water. Steve sees the stubby but pointy black claws, like little ovals on the end of his fingers. His webbed fingers, Steve sees next, webbing stretched between them up to the first knuckle. He hesitates for a moment, but Steve doesn’t move, wanting to see where this is going.
Fish guy points cautiously at the center of Steve’s chest, close but not touching, lifting far enough out of the water to reveal protruding collar bones. He opens his mouth, and Steve watches with baited breath, fish guy frowning like he’s concentrating, such a human emotion on his face.
Footsteps, then, and he drops back into the water, backing away into the middle of the pool, sinking down so only his eyes are visible. Steve remembers to breathe; he’s not imagining it, something was about to happen. But he can try again tomorrow, once Robin has gone.
“I got some lettuce and some frozen peas,” she whisper hisses at him as she sits again, handing them over.
“Gimme the lettuce,” that seems like the next nearest thing to Steve.
Part two
2K notes · View notes
sirenhub · 4 months
Text
LEON'S GUILTY PLEASURE
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SIREN IS TYPING . . writing debut! :33 this is my first ever leon fic, so please be nice! 3: i accidentally went a bit too far and made the word count 9.4k words..um..enjoy! reblogs and replies are really helpful & help me stay motivated so if you have any kind words to share, please do! i would love to hear them! i’m sorry for the really long delay in posting this but UHHH!!! idk ;(( my bae 3k helped me with the plot for the call & i hope i tagged everyone ^_^ i did my best to proofread so hopefully it’s good!
CONTAINS: older man leon! x pornstar! reader — age gaps, alcoholism, mutual masturbation, leon is co-depended with your content, he adores you, hinted erectile dysfunction, leon is lonely and sad, reader is there to put on a show for him, video call sex, dildo use, etc!
SYNOPSIS: a lonely man copes with two things, alcohol and porn, one night he comes across a video that catches his eye, pushing him down a spiral of coping through you. he adores you and your work, his only want in life is to get closer to you, and when you make a contest and offer the winner a chance at a one on one call with you, leon jumps at the opportunity.
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slumping down onto his bed, a drunk leon kennedy, sat back.
a small groan left his lips as nausea swirled around inside his stomach, he didn’t have food in his system, and his stomach was full of whiskey.
aerial shoot, his favorite.
but, fuck. he overdid it, throughout the whole evening he had been nursing a new bottle of the bitter whiskey, drinking it down like it was water, not caring about the way it burned his throat. by now it was empty, the drug seeping into his system like a blanket, making his body feel hot.
slipping down onto his bed, leon stared blankly at the roof, the room was dark and quiet.
he wasn’t tired, he was drunk, but not tired. another groan came from him, his large calloused hand moving to his face. he rubbed his forehead, trying to ease the throbbing sensation in his head. he had always been tolerant of alcohol, but tonight his body couldn’t take it anymore. he thanked a higher being for not being insanely nauseous, he wasn’t in the mood to spew up the alcohol.
he let out a deep breath before he reached out and grabbed his phone.
hitting the power button, his eyes shut immediately as the blinding light of his phone hit his eyes. “jesus, fuck—“ he grunted, quickly turning down the brightness.
looking at the screen, he wasn’t surprised when he was met with an empty inbox. no texts, no calls, no emails.
a sigh left his lips, the reminder of his loneliness brought a heavy weight inside his chest. looking to his side, there was an empty spot next to him, the bed was cold.
he was lonely.
despite what he tried to tell himself, he craves romance, he craves stability. the idea of living a happy married life was something he dreamed about when he was younger, before 1998, before he became what he is now. now he scoffs at romance because deep down, he knows no one would want to be with an alcoholic old man. his prime is gone a distant memory. he feels like a shell of himself, he doesn’t have much to live for now.
the cycle of self-hatred and self-loathing was part of his daily routine, at night, he gets lost in his thoughts.
he can’t go a day sober, it would kill him. at least that’s what he thinks.
the memories of the people he had lost haunt him, no matter how much time passes, the vacant space he has in his heart doesn’t go away. no matter what he does to try and get rid of it.
the dating scene wasn’t for him, not anymore, not at this age.
he could go and pay for hookers and prostitutes to fulfill his sexual needs, but it was never enough. the pleasure was temporary.
he wasn’t happy.
leon hasn’t been happy in a long time, so long in fact, he doesn’t remember how it feels.
his gaze focused on his phone, he wanted to stop thinking. he needed to forget everything, his grief, his anger, his loneliness. that’s why he relied on alcohol, but tonight he didn’t want to drink himself to sleep.
so, that left him with one more option.
opening the internet on his phone, his dull eyes focused as his fingers typed.
pornhub.com
this was pathetic, leon thought to himself. he was pathetic, and he knew that, but that didn’t stop him from pressing on the top link.
his thumb tapped against the glass screen, entering the website.
he was quickly met with the thumbnails of various sexual acts. from girls with a cock shoved down their throats, to girls getting folded while a man is on top of them. leon was uninterested.
he never liked porn videos made with high production, it was fake, unappealing. the bright lighting, the obnoxious moaning, and the stupid faces the girls make. it was ick worthy, leon always preferred amateur porn. it was charming when a video was poorly produced, with bad quality, and crooked angles. he liked that over other porn videos.
opening the search bar, he typed the word amateur. after clicking search, he scrolled down various videos before he found one that caught his attention.
it was a masturbation video, the title wasn’t crazy either.
college girl masturbates solo :)
it was cute, the little smiley face felt so out of place on a site like this, but it piqued his curiosity. in the thumbnail your hands were between your thighs, and the position of your phone was up — like you were taking a selfie. he didn’t see much of your face, by the angle he could only see your soft lips as you bit your bottom lip. you were wearing a cute set of lingerie, too.
there was something so cute about you, from the cutesy title and your pretty lingerie, his curiosity lead him to click on the video.
the video loaded and the first thing he saw was your breasts as you adjusted the camera down. you were holding it yourself, the camera facing you. as the camera moved down, he saw your hands slipping down to your panties.
he couldn’t see your face, seems like you were shy.
he watched with anticipation as your fingers pressed against your clothed cunt, rubbing slow gentle circles on your clit. turning up the volume of his phone, he heard the way your breath hitched. he could see as your tummy moved up and down with every breath you took.
leon’s stomach tightened as blood began to rush to his cock, his hand moving to palm against his pants as he got hard.
after a minute of teasing, you put the phone down against your bed, leon heard fabric shuffling. after a few seconds, you grabbed the phone again. the angle stayed the same, but now he could see your pretty pussy.
it was slick, glistening.
his mouth went dry as he took in the sight, your manicured fingers gently pressed against your perky clit, your touch was light, and you were savoring the pleasure.
leon heard a soft moan leave your lips, his hips squirmed as he grabbed his cock through the fabric of his pants. his hand moving to slowly grope himself.
he continued to watch with eager eyes, his hand moving to unbutton his jeans and unzip his pants. eagerly, he slipped his hand under his underwear, his hand pulling his cock out.
it was standing tall, pre-cum leaking from the slit.
he shuddered, he hasn’t been this hard in what felt like forever. he genuinely thought he lost his spark, he was in his late thirties after all.
his hand wrapped around his cock, a shaky breath left his lips as he squeezed it. his cock was thick, it wasn’t the biggest there was, but it would leave girls dumbfucked. or well, it used to. he hasn’t gone that hard in a while.
his cock was pretty, his tip was reddish, veins adorned it. the ones that made the girls mushy and whimpery.
the mental image of the girls he’s shoved his cock into filled his head. truthfully, he doesn’t really remember faces, but he remembers how they reacted. their bodies trembling and loud moans.
oh, how he missed it.
as he stared at your pretty pussy, all he could think about was shoving his cock deep inside you. have you whimpering and gasping his name as he kept you folded.
his cock twitched, fuck.
you were getting him so hard, he didn’t even think it was possible given his track record in the last few years. biting the inside of his cheek, he let out a breath, he was this hard over a girl on a porn website, but he couldn’t get this hard when he was balls deep inside a hooker’s cunt. god, this was pathetic.
pathetic, pathetic, pathetic..
you’re pathetic leon.
even as the words repeated in his head, his hand was still working on his cock, jerking and tugging on his shaft. his eyebrows were furrowed and his lips parted slightly, keeping his gaze on you, he watched as you rubbed your clit faster.
he could hear your small shaky moans, you were close and so was he.
his balls were tightening, his breathing was heavy, small pants leaving his lips as he rubbed his cock raw. chasing for a high he hasn’t felt in years.
a choked groan left his lips as he came, cum spurting out of his tip in amounts he hasn’t had since he was in his twenties. his cum was milky and thick. he continued to gently jerk his cock as he rode out his orgasm, another groan leaving his lips as his head leaned back.
his eyes fluttered shut as he felt his cock softening in his hands.
holy fuck.
his mind was fuzzy, he had almost forgotten about his phone until he heard a moan come from it. he moved his gaze towards the screen and watched as your hand stayed between your thighs before they slammed shut and you began to ride out your orgasm.
leon watched with eager eyes as you rode out your high nicely.
he squirmed and let go of his flaccid cock, his cum staining his hand, his stomach, and his pants.
he moved his hands and they gripped his phone again, he tapped on your username and watched your profile. your profile picture was a shy picture of your chest, a different set of lingerie holding your tits up.
looking at your bio, he shuddered as he read your information.
your name was pretty, it suited you. he saw your age listed, twenty-one, he just had the cum of his life to a video of a twenty-one-year-old? a feeling came to him, he didn’t know how to feel. staring at his screen, his mind still processing that information, should he be disgusted? guilty? ashamed?
he sucked in a breath and gulped.
him, a man in his late thirties, almost forty, just came to a video of a twenty-one year old girl.
it felt wrong, right? she was almost two decades younger than him, when the racoon city incident happened you weren’t even born yet. this had to be wrong.
but it wasn’t, and he knew that.
sure, the gap was questionable, but it was legal. yet, he felt so..wrong.
the worst part was that even after he realized this, he still watched your other videos.
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choked moans left your glossy lips, your eyes shut and eyebrows furrowed up in pleasure. your mouth was slightly agape, forming an ‘o’ shape. leon’s cock slamming down into your cunt, his hand was placed on the small for your back as he held your upper body down and kept your ass up.
he let out small pants, his eyes shutting in bliss.
your walls were warm and snug, sucking his cock back inside your cunt with a wet squelch. you were so wet, your cunt practically drooling. it was driving him mad.
his free hand was gripping your ass, holding onto the fat like his life depended on it, his dull nails digging into your skin. he let out a guttural groan as he felt your pussy tighten around him, squeezing, milking him. he didn’t have the self control he had back then, he was edging himself to try and last longer.
it was hard, his balls were heavy with cum, cum he wanted to stuff deep inside you.
his eyes shut tightly, he bit down onto his bottom lip, his thrusts got sloppily — fuck, fuck, fuck. “s-shit—“ he choked out, his head leaned back as a whimper slipped past his lips. his cock throbbed no matter how hard he tried to stop himself, his cum spurted out of his tip.
he shook as it spurted in waves, his eyes fluttered open and he panted. “sorry—“ he said, feeling bad for not letting you cum first and filling you up without any form of protection. you hummed in reply, your ass still in the air as he pulled out. his cock getting softer, his lidded gaze watched as his cum slipped out of your puffy pussy, falling in glops onto his sheets.
he felt hot as he watched it, he was about to say something when—
his eyes opened and a shaky breath left his lips, it took a moment for him to adjust to his surroundings. quickly sitting up on his bed, leon was met with the saddening realization he was alone.
you weren’t sleeping next to him, his bed was cold.
not only that, but his pants were wet. he pulled the blanket off his body and groaned when he realized he had cum inside his pants. rubbing his forehead, he slipped off his bed groggily.
it was still dark out, his bedroom was completely dark aside from the natural light of the moon that entered through his windows.
leon hastily took his pants and underwear off, throwing them across the room to where he thought his laundry basket was. he walked to his cabinets and dug into his underwear drawer before he put them on, stumbling a bit before he finished.
running his hands through his hair, he stalked over to his bed and laid down.
reaching out for his nightstand, he grabbed his phone, this time he was mindful of the brightness so he adverted his eyes and quickly lowered it before staring at the screen.
no new messages, he frowned, except an email. it was an advertisement.
he scrolled through his apps and found one, the one you’re most active on.
instagram.
leon was rather clueless about social media, but the only reason he had it was to stalk your account. he opened the app and saw that you had uploaded a new story. he quickly tapped on the bubble and watched through your posts.
you were out that night, you took photos and various videos of the night. wearing a little black dress, your tits were practically spilling out, one wrong move and your panties would be exposed. you looked beautiful though, he adjusted himself in his bed and stared at the picture you captioned ‘fit check! :D.’ he couldn’t get over how cute your little captions were, it was humorous. a cute little emoticon at the end of a text while the picture behind it was you in the sluttiest outfit you could find.
biting the inside of his cheek, leon took a screenshot of the story and continued to scroll by your posts.
you looked so happy, so pretty. leon loved the way you smiled, all teeth, it all seemed so genuine. you were with your friends in the videos, giggling and dancing along to whatever song the club was blasting.
after he finished going through your story, he clicked on your account, no new posts. a deep sigh left his lips as he put his phone back on his nightstand and turned to his side. pulling the blankets up, it didn’t take long for him to fall asleep once more.
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leon wasn’t sick.
he wasn’t a bad man, he wasn’t a freak, he was just lonely.
he was lonely and desperate, that’s what he told himself. he had this lingering guilt that manifested in the back of his head, you’re a sick man, leon. that’s what it repeated, every night, while he re-watched your videos and looked through the photos he had saved, it spoke.
sick. you are sick.
leon swore he wasn’t, he was just a broken man. one that found solace in you.
the age gap was eating him up inside, he had never thought of himself as someone who would find girls in their twenties attractive. yet, where he was.
he didn’t want to imagine what people would say if they found out he jerked off nightly to the thought of you. not just your videos, but the thought of you. he found himself daydreaming about you, not just in sexual situations, but romantic ones.
at the store he finds himself looking at the flower display, thinking about getting you flowers, trying to guess what flowers you would like the most. in public, when he saw couples, a bitter swirl churned in his stomach. jealousy, he was jealous that he couldn’t do the same with you.
this was developing into more of a followership, it was slowly seeping into the realm of obsession. delusion was his best friend.
occasionally, you participated in live streams.
it was cute, you were more talkative there, and you interacted with your followers happily. he was a quiet supporter, he didn’t use the chat room. you were too intimidating, he didn’t want to say something that could make you uncomfortable. he mostly gave you gifts, sending in money for you, he didn’t say much when he donated. occasionally he would type a small message for you to read with each donation, but it was rare.
that didn’t matter though. being able to hear you say his name, albeit his username, made him happy.
in these live streams, he’s been able to learn a lot about you. he knows you’re a college student, he knows you’re studying literature, he knows you’re a good student, he knows your favorite food, your favorite animal, how you like to spend your time, and much more.
he knows more about you than the people he knows in his life.
tonight, you had scheduled a livestream. posting about it on your instagram story.
‘i’m gonna be live tonight at 8 p.m. come by to talk, and i have a surprise too! >_<’ leon was curious, a surprise? so, of course he entered the stream after you started it. he needed to know what you were planning, maybe he could be part of it.
you sat in front of your camera and greeted all of the people coming in.
leon stared at you, you were so pretty, he thought. god, he felt like a teenage boy.
get a fucking grip.
your eyes focused on the screen where the chat box was opened, he watched as your eyes lit up, “welcome back, kennedy!” you said, looking back at the camera. looking straight at him.
his mouth went dry when you addressed him.
he clicked on the chat box, looking through to see if there was another kennedy, he didn’t want to jump straight to conclusions and embarrass himself. but there was no one else with the display like that.
SKENNEDY001
okay, he wasn’t very good at making usernames. he stared at his screen, unsure of what to do. you addressed him, should he say hi back? he’s never spoken in the chat room before. what if this went wrong?
slowly tapping on the keyboard, he replied with a simple. ‘hello, how are you?’ — best he plays it safe, right? his face feels hot, and he feels embarrassed. he’s always been more of a silent admirer, honestly, he never expected you to actually notice him. all sorts of different thoughts filled his head, from negative to positive. what would people think, what would you think if you found out that the biggest reason you’re paying your bills was because of some man in his late thirties who watches your content like it’s the news.
but what if you were into that? he’s heard stories about girls thinking older men were attractive, were you that type?
“i’ve been good!” you replied, snapping him out of his flood of thoughts. “i’ve seen you around, i think you might be my biggest fan.” you winked.
leon’s heart was practically beating out of his chest, he knew you meant it like a compliment, but it felt like you were pointing out how much of a lonely loser he is. “i just wanted to say thank you, your donations really help.” you said with a smile, that same pretty smile that drove him crazy, the smile he adored.
he didn’t know what to say, if he wanted to, he could write a detailed essay about you and how much he admires obsesses over you.
‘you’re welcome.. i like to support you.’ he typed back, after hitting send, he squirmed. did that sound weird? staring at your face intensely as you read through the chat, you let out a small laugh. “thank you, kennedy.” you replied, looking back at the camera. seeing how full the stream was getting, he decided that this was the end of the conversation.
his chest felt fuzzy, a feeling he hadn’t had in years, a feeling he had completely forgotten about.
he was obsessed with you.
the stream continued smoothly, you teased the camera, showing off your body and tempting the men, like him, who watched. by now he needed to rub one out during your streams, who would he be if he didn’t?
the stream was coming to a close, but before you spoke. “oh! the surprise from earlier, i almost forgot.” you said with a small laugh as you leaned back against your chair.
“basically, i was thinking, why not have a little contest.” you said, smirking at the camera. “imagine this is an auction,” you said, “the highest bidder gets to have a private, on one, video call with me.” you said, looking at your camera. “who knows, maybe that call can lead to something else.” you hummed, winking at the camera as you slid your hand down your chest.
leon blinked, a call with you? it was a dream come true. the only thing this lonely man could ask for.
you continued on, opening a gift box for anyone who wanted to get a chance with you.
he ignored how this could lead to poor financial decisions, he needed that call. he needed you for himself, he needed you to address him — to talk to him, he needed your attention like a lost puppy.
the gift period was only open for about fifteen minutes, first come first serve type of thing.
luckily, unlike the other people in the stream, he’s a government agent. with that title comes money, so as a way to secure that call, he sent you thousands.
he watched as you read the screen, your eyes widening as you saw the notification come in that you had received a few thousand dollars from your shy admirer. “holy shit.” you gasped, “okay— we have a winner! we have skennedy001 that donated over a thousand dollars!” you said, stammering as surprise filled your bones. “i’m closing the bid, that’s way too much money!” you said, giggling as you shut the bid off.
the people in the chat were going crazy, some were taking the loss like losers while the others congratulated the mystery man.
not too long after the stream ended, leon shut his phone off and stared at it. a deep breath left his lips, he didn’t know what to expect after being called the winner, but when he got a notification someone had messaged him through the streaming app, he opened it.
what he didn’t expect was to have a message from you in his inbox.
‘hey, kennedy! omg, that donation was insane! i didn’t expect that much money, please let me give you some money back! i really don’t deserve that much!! :,,)) you’re so sweet, and i appreciate it sososo much!!’
leon stared at the screen, double-checking that it was really you that had contacted me, his face got hot, did he overdo it? was that too desperate? oh, definitely it was, but still.
running his fingers through his hair, he began to type back, trying to brainstorm what to say, but after a solid five minutes of debating his options, he finally replied.
‘hello, i’m glad you appreciated it, but no. it’s okay, you can keep all of it. that’s the reason i donated it. spoil yourself.’
he typed back, his icy blue eyes hyper focused on the screen, he watched as in the span of a few seconds a small text bubble popped up as three dots bounced around. you were replying.
‘aww! are you sure? like, a 100% sure? i’m just making sure!! i just don’t wanna feel like i’m stealing from you, or something LOL!’
your text was cute, lighthearted, and warm, you were so considerate. he liked that, and his thumbs began to type out a reply.
‘no, no. it’s okay, really. just enjoy yourself.’
he replied he was trying his best to not seem uninterested. he has been told many times before that he was very “dry texter” — he had been told how uninterested he sounded with his texting habits and how it could make someone want to stop replying, and he didn’t want that. he just wasn’t sure what to say.
‘omg i am so grateful for your kindness! i’ve seen you in my streams a lot, i have honestly wondered about you. i’m glad you won the bid, tbh i wanted you to win LOL it gave me a reason to talk to you!’
oh my god. leon’s eyes widened slightly at your text, you were bold, is this how it feels like to get butterflies? he blinked, how was he supposed to reply? he’s never texted a girl in her twenties, what do girls like? what will keep you interested?
‘oh, yeah?’ he replied, reverting back to his usual dry texts, but you were lively, you knew how to keep the conversation going.
the conversation was sweet and lengthy, you ended up suggesting you move to your instagram messages so she could talk to him more often.
leon’s heart was practically going to explode out of his chest, he was giddy yet nervous. you had told him that you guys could arrange the video call for the next day at night after you finish some college work.
he was stressed, leon wasn’t sure what to expect. he’s seen your pretty face, but you haven’t seen his. his instagram profile is of an old landscape photo he took a while back, what if the camera isn’t flattering for him? he did warn you that he was in his late thirties? he didn’t want you to get your hopes up for a younger man. maybe he should just keep his camera off.
nonetheless, that night, he went to sleep happier than he has been in a while.
≻ the next day, leon was practically counting down the hours, the minutes, the seconds, until he got to see you. in the morning, he had been excited — the people around him noted his giddy attitude, but when asked why, he didn’t say anything.
he couldn’t expose himself.
but as the clock ticked and the hours passed by, leon found himself much more nervous than he’s ever been. he doesn’t want to fuck this up, in his delusion. he thinks that if this goes well, maybe, just maybe, this could evolve to something more.
you were so sweet to him last night, but the more he thinks about it, perhaps it was flattery.
he hadn’t thought about it now, this might just be all an act. something to keep him wrapped around your pinky finger, but he decided to push those thoughts down so he wouldn’t spoil his night.
once he reached his place, leon was angsty, the sun was slowly going down. the sky was a beautiful mix of warm colors: orange, red, and yellow. he could also see a hint of blue mixed in as the night sky began to slowly settle.
entering his apartment, he slipped inside the door and shut it behind him. locking it, a person could never be too safe, right?
he kicked off his shoes and slipped off his jacket, he haphazardly threw his jacket on his sofa before he made his way over to his room. he plopped down onto his bed and slipped his phone and flask out of his back pocket. opening the flask, he raised the metal container up to his lips and took in a quick shot of whiskey.
he couldn’t go into this sober.
letting the flask rest on his lap, he opened his phone and opened instagram. he looked at the messages he had with you. oh, he forgot to reply to your last message a few hours ago. he pursed his lips, fuck he feels bad, leon wasn’t an avid texter, so it was easy for him to forget.
‘sorry for the late reply, i was working.’ he hit send before he could register how “dry” that sounded, he quickly scrambled to text a bit more, so he didn’t seem too boring. ‘i’m nervous for the call.’
why would he say that?
leon shut his eyes, he was really bad at this.
after a few minutes of leon anxiously waiting for your reply, a ping came from his phone. quickly looking down at the screen, he saw that you replied.
‘aww, don’t be nervous! i don’t bite, unless you want me to ;)’
he let out a breath at your words, it felt like you always knew what to say, the number of times you’ve said something sly during the conversation that had his chest fuzzy must be over ten in the span of twenty-four hours.
leon started to type back, but he stopped mid-sentence. he wasn’t sure what to say, he was fumbling over his words, and no sentence he tried to type up made sense.
he saw your text bubble pop up, you were typing.
‘what? did i make you nervous? ;p’ — yes, yes you did.
he felt like he was in his early twenties, stumbling and stammering when a pretty girl gave him attention. jesus, has it really been that long since he’s felt something like this? god, that’s so sad.
leon ran his fingers through his hair, pushing his dark hair back, ‘yes, i don’t know how to behave when a pretty girl is talking to me.’ now it was your turn to blush, leon leaned against his headboard as he stared at his phone.
‘ohhh? is mr. kennedy getting bold? ;)) i’m excited for the call, just give me one more hour ♡’
‘take your time.’
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during that hour, leon decided to try and freshen up, at least a bit. he knew he wasn’t going to turn on his camera, but maybe getting refreshed would make him feel more confident in himself.
he changed out of his work clothes and took a quick shower, he slipped on some comfortable sweatpants and a black compression shirt that he typically used when he was working out. as he looked at himself in the mirror, he noticed the eye bags that hung under his eyes and the stubble that covered his cheeks and chin.
moving his hand up to his face, he ran his fingers through his stubble and sighed as he felt the facial hair scratching his skin. should he have shaved this morning? he didn’t know, he hadn’t been bare-faced in a few years now, as he aged the clean look he used to have didn’t fit him anymore.
reaching over for his flask that he had left on the bathroom counter, leon quickly took another swing of his flask and then sighed as he put it back on his counter.
he was so fucking nervous and for what? he’s been face to face with death before, he’s encouraged over thousands of zombies in his lifetime and yet he’s so nervous at the idea of talking to you.
feeling his phone buzz in his pocket, leon scrambled to take it out before looking down at his screen. it was you.
‘okay! i’m ready, are you? ;)’ — no, he doesn’t think he’ll ever be, but he replied, ‘yes. how does this work?’ he replied, unsure of what you were planning.
he watched as the text bubble popped up from your end as you typed again, ‘its suuuper easy! i’ll set up a voice chat and send you the link, then i’ll turn my camera on so you can see me!’ biting his bottom lip, leon moved out of the bathroom and sat down in his bed, his back resting against the headboard as he stared down at his phone.
‘okay, i’ll wait for you.’ he replied as he tried to relax, letting out a deep sigh, leon shut his eyes for a few seconds before he felt his phone buzz again.
looking back at the screen, you had sent him a link.
‘here it is! ;)’ the text said, his thumb hovered over the screen as he bit the inside of his cheek and hesitated before quickly tapping the link. the link opened up another website, the same one you use for streams. it took a few seconds for it to load, but he could tell his camera was off and his mic was muted.
okay, good.
eventually, the screen loaded and he saw you, you were wearing a cute tank top of a band, he’s seen the band name around before. it was popular back in the early 2000s, you didn’t have any sexy clothes on, it was actually cute. it made you feel even more real.
“hi!” you said as you waved at the camera, “let me know if the camera and audio are working properly, sometimes the app gives me issues,” you said with a smile as you stared at your screen. leon went to open the chat box, but he realized that if he wanted to make the most out of this call, talking to you would better.
taking in a deep breath, he cleared his throat and unmuted his microphone. “..it works,” he said, his face feeling hot as he spoke.
leon had always been rather charming and talkative in real life, so why was he so shy? it wasn’t anything like him, did his loneliness really ruin him? your eyes lit up when you heard his voice, surprised he spoke.
he watched as a smile curled on your lips, “i’m glad!” you said, leaning in closer, giving leon a full view of your cleavage, he noticed a black lace bra underneath your shirt. tilting your head to the side, you hummed, “soo..how was your day?” you asked curiously as you stared up at the camera with a small smirk. leon hated how quick it was for him to feel pressure growing in his pants when it came to you.
why was it so easy to get hard for you?
“it was good..you?” he asked softly, his hand slipping down his body to grip his cock through his pants. your smirk turned into a smile, “my day was good too! thank you for asking,” you hummed, “so, what do you want to do?” you asked, leaning back against your chair as you moved your hand to hold your tit, squeezing the mound playfully. “it’s just you and me, no need to be shy.” you winked.
leon squirmed in his bed, “..i don’t know actually,” he muttered, “i never got to decide how i wanted to approach this.” he said, squeezing his bulge and sighing. “..i wanted to just talk and get you know you more, but..” he trailed off, unsure if he should tell you that his cock was hard at the mere sight of you.
you seemed to get the hint when you heard the shaky breath that left his lips, “got too excited, didn’t you?” you teased, biting your bottom lip as you batted your eyelashes to the camera. “it’s okay, let me help you.” you offered, that pretty smirk of yours coming back to your lips.
leon’s eyebrows furrowed as he felt his cock throb inside his pants.
“..a-are you sure? i don’t want to ruin the call.” leon murmured, his voice uneven as he tried to resist the urge to slip his hand under his pants' waistband.
a small laugh left your lips as you shook your head, “of course not,” she said playfully, “you won this call, you get to choose whatever we do.” you said, “what’s your name?” you asked, moving to press your arms together to have them push up your tits.
leon let out a sigh and watched with a hazy look in his eyes as you pressed your chest together. “it’s leon.” he replied quickly, now eager to have you say his name.
humming, you smiled, “okay, leon. should i take off my shirt? i have a new pair of lingerie just for you.” that whole sentence could’ve made leon cum right there without any friction. the way you said his name, it was smooth, like honey. you were hot and you knew it, “y-yes, please.” leon mumbled out pathetically as he stared at his screen intensely.
you nodded and reached down for the bottom of your shirt, slowly pulling it up and discarding your shirt to the corner of your room. once your shirt was removed, leon got an eye full of your tits being held up by the new lingerie, it was a push up bra. your tits were rounded and plush, the black lace that surrounded the fabric was real pretty.
“do you like it?” you asked softly as you adjusted your bra strap, leon gulped and shuddered. “yeah, it’s pretty..it suits you.” leon said, you were so fucking hot. he wanted to jack off and cum right there, but that would just show how much of a pathetic man he is.
you only took off your shirt and leon came? embarrassing.
so, he edged himself. deciding to play it safe with palming himself through his pants. his hand moving slowly to not get too eager and fuck it up.
“you think so?” you mused, looking at the camera as your hands moved to squeeze your tits and push them closer. fondling yourself for his pleasure.
leon groaned and nodded, he knew his camera was off and that you couldn’t see it, but he couldn’t help it. “mhm, black suits you.” he said, shifting in his bed to adjust his position. “want me to take it off?” you asked curiously, looking at the camera with an amused smile. “i think my tits are pretty, it would only be fair for you to see.” you teased as you squeezed your mounds.
leon’s throat felt dry, he felt parched.
“yes,” leon shuddered out, looking down at the screen. you laughed and stood up, you adjusted your camera for it to catch your body as you stood. leon saw you were only wearing some cute little panties that brought out your ass.
turning around, your back faced the camera before you moved your hair out of the way and moved your hands to the clasps of your bra.
you were quick to unclip your bra and take it off, throwing it off to the side, to a place the camera can’t pick up. by where you threw your shirt, leon assumed. your movements were always so smooth, hypnotic almost. leon was convinced you were perfect, made with no flaws.
turning around, you held your tits up in your hands before you stepped closer and let your mounds drop. leon got a screen full of tits, you let out a laugh and moved your body in a slow sway, your tits moving around as you did so. “like ‘em?” you mused playfully before reaching up and squeezing your nipple.
leon’s head leaned back as a small groan left his lips, his hand moving down to grip his dick through his pants. “yes, fuck.” leon said with a pant.
you moved back from the camera and sat down onto your chair before adjusting the camera stand so leon could see you better.
“are you jerking off?” you asked, smirking at the lens, leon let out a small whine. “no, n-not yet.” he mumbled, his voice straining as he tried to sound level headed, but of course it didn’t work given how he stuttered. leon cursed at himself mentally, he sounds like a fucking pussy right now.
you let out a small laugh at his stutters, “what? you don’t wanna jerk off to me? you’re hurting my feelings.” you said softly as she tilted your head, leon’s eyes widened. oh shit, no, that’s not what he wanted to do.
“wait, shit—“ he tried to explain, “i didn’t mean it like that..i just want to savor the moment.” he said, shutting his eyes in embarrassment.
you smiled, “yeah? why not savor it while jerking off? i have my tits out just for you.” you teased, pouting as you did so. leon paused, you were right, your tits were out and you were willing to do anything for him and he was just edging himself?
a small groan left his lips, “yeah..okay.” he mumbled, his hand slipping under the waistband of his pants before he gripped his cock. his large hand wrapped around his shaft, his cock throbbing again due to the pressure, leon put his phone down and used his other hand to shimmy his pants down. once the waistband was wrapped around his knees, leon leaned back against the headboard and sighed as he gripped his dick.
reaching out for his phone, leon fumbled with it with one hand before finding the right position to hold it. unbeknownst to him, while he fumbled with the phone, he had pressed against the camera button.
his camera turned on and he had no idea.
you, on the other hand, were met with the sight of the mystery man that had been supporting you the most.
he was hot.
like really fucking hot, your interest on this man peaked after you saw his pretty face. he was resting his phone on his thigh was he held it up, you could see the stubble on his face, his dark black hair. he was older than you expected, but if anything it added to the appeal.
this man seemed to be seasoned, he was staring down at his phone with his eyebrows furrowed as a small sigh of bliss left his lips. he was jerking his cock, you noticed by the way his body moved, there was an arm that wasn’t getting picked up by the camera that worked on rubbing his cock raw.
you noticed how his icy blue eyes focused on you, staring at the screen of his phone with a lovesick look on his face.
he looked so pathetically hot, it wasn’t something you thought you’d find attractive, but seeing how desperate this older man was for you made you unbelievably horny. you squirmed in your seat before your hand slipped down, you moved and slipped your hand under the fabric of your panties. letting out a sigh, you felt your middle finger gently toy your clit.
“leon?” you mused, leaning your head back and spreading your legs for the camera to pick up how your hand was shoved under your panties. you reached over to your desk and grabbed a dildo, showing it to him. “wanna watch?” you offered, moving the silicone cock in a playful manner.
leon’s eyes widened in surprise, but nodded.
he gulped and you watched as his adam’s apple bopped up with the swallow.
leon watched as you slipped off your panties and grabbed a bottle of lube. you quickly coated your pretty pussy and dildo with the thick cream and leaned back once more.
your pussy was on full display as you pressed the tip of the dildo against your puffy folds. “ready?” you asked softly as you bit your bottom lip.
this whole scene that was unfolding in front of leon felt like it was going to kill him. he’s seen your pussy before, he’s seen you fuck yourself before, but there was something different this time. it was all dedicated to him.
only him.
“yes,” he shuddered as he gripped his cock tightly, you smiled at him and slowly slipped the dildo inside of you. a soft sigh left your lips as your warm pussy sucked in the silicone, leon watched eagerly. like a kid in a candy store, he would kill to be the one inside you.
your squirmed and rolled your hips against the dildo, looking into the camera as your free hand moved to grip your tit. “oh, leon.” you moaned out, smirking as you watched your screen to see his reaction. “you feel so good..” you teased.
leon’s eyes widened when he heard you moan out his name, were you pretending it was him fucking you? did you want to send his heart into cardiac arrest?
this cock throbbed against his hand, begging for attention, pleading for leon to let it cum.
leon’s balls were heavy with cum, it was unbearable to keep teasing, but he couldn’t help it.
a small whine left leon’s lips as he slowly stroked his cock, watching as you fucked yourself with your dildo. “you think so?” leon replied back, his face felt hot as he spoke, he’s never done dirty talk through the phone. he was embarrassed, was he doing it right?
you nodded, smiling hazily at the camera, “mhm..” you trailed off as a small gasp left your lips, the dildo focused on fucking your pussy. your eyes fluttered shut as you savored the filling feeling of your dildo, the silicone ridges and fake veins pressing and molding your walls. your pace was steady, your head leaning to the side as you continued.
leon was getting the perfect view of your pretty face and your stuffed cunt. he could hear the soft squelches coming from your cunt as it sucked the dildo back inside eagerly. he watched as your pussy glistened with slick, his body aching, he wanted to be there with you. he wanted to feel you.
but the world was cruel towards leon, and all he could do is watch and pretend he was the one fucking you.
“you’re so big.” you babbled softly, watching your computer screen, watching his reaction. he shuddered and trembled, moving on his cock slowly.
leon shut his eyes and grunted, his head leaning back desperately as his body ached. he occasionally looked back at the screen, looking at you with such admiration behind his gaze. like he was admiring a beautiful painting.
he was so cute.
“y-yeah,” he groaned, his body feeling hot, it was overwhelming. he felt the thinnest sheet of sweat coat his body, a swirling feeling coming to his lower tummy, it felt like a tight pressure. “—am i making you feel good?” he whispered out, his eyes shutting as his hand continued to jerk his cock.
each jerk felt like a rush of electricity went through his veins, an electric shockwave whose only purpose was to bring pleasure.
you moved your hand down and gently began to toy with your clit, pressing on the puffy bud as you fucked yourself. “no one has ever made me feel like this, leon.” you teased, moaning out his name softly. it was like music to his ears.
he couldn’t take it anymore, he physically couldn’t hold back, he should’ve gotten a cock ring to try and make him last longer.
“m’gonna cum, i’m sorry—“ he babbled, feeling bad for cumming so fast, he just didn’t have the self control he used to have on his prime. his hand began to jerk his cock in a fast, sloppy pace. his chest was rising and falling rather quickly, unable to catch his breath as he chased his orgasm.
leon moved his phone, he kept it by his lap, but by the position you could see his aching cock.
“it’s okay, baby.” you mumbled out, watching as he neared his orgasm. his dick was pretty, the size was okay, the thickness was there, and his tip was bright red. his hand gripped his shaft, he had pretty hands. large and masculine, you even saw an expensive watch wrapped around his wrist. you knew he had money, how else would he be sending you such high donations, but something in your stomach fluttered when you noticed.
you continued to fuck your dildo into your pussy, trying to match his sloppy pace. “cum for me.” you hummed, your tone playful and laced with lust.
this was so hot.
leon shuddered and moaned, his hand continued to rub his cock raw, he clenched his jaw and shut his eyes tightly as he focused on cumming.
the pressure in his lower belly was so tight, but after a couple of more harsh jerks, the tight knot inside his stomach burst. his balls strained and tightened as cum began to spurt out of his tip. it was thick and milky, staining leon’s stomach and hand.
while he came, leon’s body trembled, his toes curled, and his back arched slightly as a loud moan left his lips. he didn’t mean to moan out like that, but with the circumstances he couldn’t help it. this was pure bliss, his body felt lighter and his head felt fuzzy. he continued to slowly stroke his cock as it throbbed, he rode out his orgasm, his cum still spewing out of his cock for a few more seconds before his body relaxed.
leon shuddered as his cock began to go soft in his hand, he grimaced as he looked at the cum that stained his hand before wiping it off against his sweats.
panting, leon looked back at his phone, his face was red and his whole body was hot.
“shit, i’m sorry, i wanted to wait for you.” leon said breathlessly, you shut your eyes and continued to toy with your clit as you shook your head. “don’t apologize, it was really hot.” you moaned out, fluttering your eyes open as you looked at the monitor, eyeing him up as he laid back panting.
your clit was puffy and slick, aching for more.
rolling your hips up, your hands continue to work against your cunt, making your legs twitch and tremble. putting on a show for the lonely man in front of you.
biting the inside of his cheek, leon watched desperately, if he was younger he probably would’ve gotten hard again as he watched, but his cock didn’t have enough strength to stand. it didn’t matter, now leon could finally appreciate you, your pretty face, your pretty body, and your pretty pussy.
he loved the faces you made, they were so genuine.
if he was fucking you, would you be making those faces too? god he hoped so.
by now, a specific heat blossomed by your clit as your finger toyed with it. your touch was gentle and light, it felt like your clit was burning in the hottest way as the nerves went on overdrive.
“fuck, fuck, fuck—“ you whined, your voice strained as you focused on breaking the tight knot inside your lower tummy.
leon shuddered, seeing the way your eyebrows furrowed as you bit your bottom lip, you were so cute. leon wanted to say something, but it was like his brain was a blank slate. he couldn’t think, he couldn’t speak, he just watched as your glistening pussy throb.
it didn’t take long for the knot to snap, and once it did, your body jolted as a loud whine of his name left your lips. your thighs clamped together while your hand stayed pressed between your legs, the silicone cock was nestled nicely inside you, warm and sticky.
your body trembled as you panted, your head leaning back against the seat as you regained your thoughts.
god.
leon has seen you cum various times before, sure, but there’s something so different about it here. it was mind boggling and his head felt dizzy, a shiver going down his spine.
this was all a private show, all of this was only for him. no one else was as lucky as he was, he felt like he was getting spoiled.
watching you unravel and cry out his name had leon’s brain oozing, he felt demented, like his brain had melted and he was left as a zombie. he could tilt his head over right now and watch as his melted brain would come spilling out.
metaphorically, of course.
you reveled in the afterglow of your climax, your pussy felt like it was pulsating and throbbing. slowly, your hazy gaze focused back on the screen and you locked eyes with leon.
he let out a breath as he looked at you, it felt like you were really looking into his eyes.
he still had no idea his camera was on and you could see how enamored he looked.
slowly, with a long, soft squelch, you pulled the dildo out of your sticky pussy. you moved the silicone up to your lips and leaned in closer to the camera before you licked off the slick that coated the toy.
your tongue moved slowly, and occasionally you would glance at the camera, making eye contact with him as you cleaned up your dildo and the only thing that ran through leon’s head as he watched was: i wish that was me.
squirming, leon felt like his mouth was salivating at the sight.
eventually, you finished licking off your dildo before you placed a gentle kiss on its head before you put it away, hidden away from what the camera could pick up. “liked that?” you mused, tilting your head to the side with a cute little smile. it was almost funny how cute you looked after you fucked yourself in front of him.
“yeah.” leon said quickly, gulping back saliva as he looked at you so dearly, “um,” he began, clearing his throat awkwardly, “..is it okay to talk more? if you have the time.” leon mumbled, because deep down, he still wanted to talk to you — to carry a conversation with you, to try and charm you.
looking at the time displayed on your monitor, you hummed, drawing it out to tease him slightly. after a few seconds that felt like an eternity for leon, you looked back at the camera and nodded. “of course, i have time.” you said, winking at the camera before you stood up and slipped your panties on. you left the chair for a second before you picked up your band shirt off the floor and slipped it on.
plopping back down on the chair, you smiled and looked back at the camera.
“so, tell me more about you, leon.”
≻ the call ended not too long ago, leon rested his phone down on his bed as he let out a sigh and rubbed his forehead. his chest felt fuzzy and he felt giddy.
the two of you had spoke for a few hours and now that the call ended, leon yearned to hear your voice again.
he felt silly like this, but he couldn’t help it.
he missed your voice, your face, the way you moved your hands when you spoke, the small gestures you made when you talked about something you were passionate about.
he missed you.
reaching over for his flask, leon quickly popped it open and took another long swig. swallowing back his beloved whiskey like he was a dehydrated man drinking water, throughout the call, he hadn’t drank to try and not get drunk and ruin the moment. but now that the call ended and he had time, leon was happily swallowing back the whiskey.
hearing his phone buzz against his bed sheets, he reached out for it quickly, a swirl of excitement coming to him as he saw it was you that texted.
it was two attachments, a photo of your perky tits and another one of your computer screen — that’s where he saw it. he was on the screen.
the photo you had taken was when he had his phone down, getting a good angle of his side profile from the bottom. for the eyes of someone else, it was a good picture and he looked good. his hair was messy in just the right way, his adam’s apple was on display and given the fact his phone was down, the picture also captured his waist, chest, and shoulders. showing off his body underneath the shirt he wore.
it was a good photo, but leon’s heart dropped to the floor when he saw it.
had his camera been on the whole time? is that why there was a small red dot next to his selfie camera? clicking out of the photos, he read your text nervously, but after reading it, his face flushed.
taking back another swing of his flask, he shuddered.
‘you looked really good today ;)) wanna call again tomorrow? <3’
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charliemwrites · 26 days
Text
Unfamiliar Nobody
You are a witch preparing for winter. Luckily, you have an extra set of hands - if they'd ever help.
Content: Possessive behavior, Semi-Safe/Semi-Sane/Consensual Intimacy, implied (pseudo) cannibalism, Violence and Death, Unhealthy but Happy Relationship
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You haven’t been the same since the ritual.
Souls are tricky things, somewhere on that rickety fence between the Seen and Unseen, a bit of practical magic so common that people don’t think much of it.
Souls are like stones or plants. Abundant, but varied. Some are rare and precious, some are beautiful, some are poison. One soul does not weigh the same as another, and the beings that deal in their collection and sale value them differently. Souls aren’t rare and only some of them are powerful.
It’s a narcissistic misconception of humans - even the ones that can perceive beyond the physical world. That a soul is considered precious and coveted and powerful by all things of heaven, hell, and beyond.
Not so.
That said, like a bit of gold or a well-woven blanket, a soul can be commodified. Reshaped and displayed, butchered for parts, sold…
The selling of a soul has its merits, though not many. High risk, high reward sort of gamble. Tempting for clever witches - or desperate ones.
You were neither when you built the summoning circle that night.
You weren’t looking to forge any contracts or make deals beneath that moon. Didn’t expect to invoke any infernal beings or heavenly apparitions with the stars.
Well, best laid plans and all that - not that it had been an especially well laid plan anyway.
Baring your soul that deep into midnight had not yielded the results you intended. Or maybe it had and your expectations were just skewed. Souls are tricky things.
And yours hasn’t been the same since.
You always rouse as the sun begins to set. Late afternoon at the earliest, when most everyone else is finishing their suppers.
You can manage stark daylight, but poorly. It hurts your eyes and prickles your skin. A deep hood and long sleeves does the trick when required, but you don’t make a habit of it if you can help it, if only for the teeth that bury in your throat when you return.
Tend the garden in the dying rays, light the shop candles before night nestles in. Say your blessings, leave your offerings, wriggle out from beneath clingy weight to secure any provisions or materials from the town.
As the temperature cools and the shadows deepen, you settle into your work.
The shop once belonged to an apothecarist. Died in a plague some four decades ago, or so you’ve been told. No one of any skill or natural talent replaced them afterwards. Too frightened, perhaps, of what could be lingering within.
It wasn’t haunted until you (and your shadow) occupied it.
You’ve stocked it up quite nicely now. Herbs and spices, vegetables and fruits, roots and seeds. Thistles hang from the ceiling and bones rattle in the drawers. Mortars and pestles line a wall, weights and measures beneath the counter. Not a single thing labeled or organized, the latter of which disconcerts your… companion.
Fickle is not the word for him, but it’s the one you use.
(And he is a he, at least according to the long, thick cock he crams into you every chance he makes for himself. Though you suppose such trifles as gender are superfluous to nonhumans. A categorical fallacy for your own ease of reference.)
You told him once, that if he did not like the disarray of the shop, he was welcome to rearrange as he saw fit. In response, he left teeth rings around the base of each of your fingers, telling you how easy it would be to bite them off. He didn’t, of course - wouldn’t - but you spent a good portion of that evening updating the inventory logs (sat on that long, thick cock.)
The shop was never reorganized.
Tonight you wake to his tongue, a dark and wicked thing, improbably dexterous, lapping at your thighs.
“Winter comes,” he drawls into your skin. His voice is dredged up from the deepest pit in his chest, scrapes against his throat before nuzzling into your ears.
“I thought so,” you sigh, sleep laden and languorous. “Felt it on the wind yesterday.”
He hums. Or maybe it’s a growl. It’s hard to say when he’s sinking his teeth into the plush of your thigh, though he does it without hurry. 
For a creature without definite expiration, there is little need to be hasty.
You click your tongue when he threatens to break skin. His jaw locks like that, just on the verge of taking without being asked. This is his price for greeting the evening with you - or so he claims.
“We’ll have to begin preparations,” you muse to the inky ceiling. “I’ll make a list over tea. You’ll help, won’t you? What kind of winter will it be?”
He relaxes his bite, laps at the iridescent fluid left on your skin. His saliva, or what passes for it in this vaguely human form.
“Long,” he drawls. An unseen thumb rubs circles into your calf. “And frigid.”
You hum, can already see it in your mind. Howling winds and a silent earth. Still and peaceful, little creatures huddled down and hibernating. It was a good, warm, lush summer that promises a sweet, abundant harvest.
“A lot of snow?” you ask, fingers buried in something almost too coarse to be hair. 
He unseals his mouth from a fresh, livid mark on your hip. “Da. Snow.”
Your fingertips trail over the gnarled, raised topography of long-healed wounds. Marks that go beyond flesh, wounds of essence. No matter his appearance, he will always be scarred - disfigured, even.
Sometimes you fancy that he was some fearsome fae king or warlord of hell before retiring to become yours.
Sensing the direction of your thoughts, he nips at the meat of your thumb. Draws blood the time. You hook your index finger around a too-sharp canine and shake a bit. He grunts and slides his tongue over the pinprick of blood.
“Any storms?” you ask.
“Two,” he rumbles around your finger. “Maybe three.”
You didn’t used to love winter so. But this will be your third with him. As the climate chills and the nights lengthen, he comes into his patron season. It’s helpful to have a thing of the cold and dark when times are lean and everything (even people) lose their pretty foliage.
“Shall I expect more pelts, then?”
You balked the first time he brought (more) death to your door. Thought him cruel and ruthless. Perhaps he is without you to metamorphose the slaughter into necessity.
Furs for warmth, meat for food, bones for your work. Nothing gone to waste under your care.
“Pelts,” he agrees, “skins, down.”
You trace your thumb over the bridge of his crooked nose, press between his brows when he tries to tilt his head into the warm apex of your thighs. He bares his teeth against your wrist but cannot defy you.
“Tea for that drop of blood,” you bargain.
He sighs deep and vexed. “Mistress.”
Before slithering from your blankets, though, he buries his nose against your pubic mound and takes a deep, noisy inhale.
“Nikto!”
A village girl comes a little after the sun has fully set.
You finished your tea (and bread, for the price of a wet, filthy kiss) while making a list of preparatory chores. Have started grinding up rosemary to replenish your stock.
Nikto senses her before you do, pthalo eyes flicking up. She hesitates at the closed door, poised to knock, then decides against it and simply pushes in.
You pretend as if you’ve just glanced up from your mortar, an easy smile at your visitor.
“Good evening,” you call.
“E-evening,” she replies, lingering in the door.
While you’ve taken measures to keep the air of the shopfront clean and light, it’s something of a fruitless endeavor when Nikto’s made his den here. (Or more accurately, in the room behind the shopfront, where you dwell.)
Still, she only wavers another moment, finding nothing immediately alarming or perilous. She can’t see him lounging on the back counter like a lazy cat.
“Have you need of something?” you ask.
Your easy, friendly tone loosens her shoulders, coaxes her from the doorway.
“I’m here for something for my grandmother?” she says.
You tilt your head. “Anna?”
She blinks. “How did you know?”
Because Nikto grumbled it just now.
“You have her eyes,” you lie. “I have her medication just over here. One moment.”
You turn away to collect the little parcels that make up Anna’s bi-weekly order. Brews for her tea, ointment for her joints. You’ll mix extra as the chill sets in, fewer trips while seeing her through the harsh season.
“Usually Alexei comes to collect these things,” you say.
She rocks back and forth on her heels, a more curious eye trailing over your wares now.
“Mama and I have come to take care of nana. She’s getting older, you know. And this town has better prospects than our old village.”
You hum in agreement, neatly bundling all the items in a cloth and tieing a length of twine to secure it.
“Uncle Alexei is away with papa to finish sorting matters back there.”
“So you and your mother have come ahead, then,” you summarize.
“Mhmm!”
“Well, Anna is lucky to have you. She speaks fondly of you and your mother,” you say.
The girl lights up, cheeks rosy with pride. You slide her grandmother’s order across the counter.
“Anything else?” you ask.
“No, thank you!” she replies, dropping coins into your palm.
You glance at them (overpaid as usual, oh Anna) and sigh fondly.
“Hold on,” you call, “here.”
You pass her a little jar sealed in wax. She accepts it with a bemused smile.
“What is it?”
“For travel sores, when your father and Alexei return.”
She absolutely beams. Any apprehension she had when entering your shop is long melted away.
“Thank you, Miss!” she chirps, waving, and sweeps out the door.
Niko pounces in an instant, arms so tight around your waist that you don’t even stumble from the force.
“What’s gotten into you this time?” you ask.
“You were thinking of those men,” he grumbles. You’d call it childish if he wasn’t damn near mauling your neck.
“They’re well-paying customers,” you scoff, “and more good will is never remiss.”
He snarls, but moves on quickly. “You were so kind to that little girl. She had stars in her eyes.”
You hum in question, surprised.
“Makes me think of you with little ones. Younger ones.” He’s near rambling, drool soaking into the collar of your dress. “My brood. Clinging to your skirts and your hips. Getting sticky hands in the beeswax.”
You huff out a startled laugh. “You’re thinking of babies?”
He moans into your ear, pressed tight to your back. Broad palms knead at your lower abdomen.
“Little voices calling ‘mama’. They would all adore you, want to be just like you. Mother is god in the hearts of children.”
“All?” you repeat, twisting to stare owlishly. “How many is ‘all’?”
“As many as you will let me breed into you.”
Another laugh escapes you, a bit bewildered. He’s never spoken like this before, never seemed interested at all by the women (or their husbands) that come to the shop to ease their pregnancies or births.
“You couldn’t stand to share my attention,” you scoff. Which is to say nothing of it even being a possibility. You’re not sure that you and he could produce viable offspring.
He pauses, nose in your hair, considering.
Finally, he grunts, “Maybe.”
You’d thought so.
It’s not just the change in your natural sleep rhythms. You crave the iron of raw meat and inhale deep the burn of black smoke. Sometimes, you’re too preoccupied with the spill of ink on parchment, or the length and depth of shadows.
Subtle things, perhaps. A change beneath the skin, in the dark parts of your eyes.
You used to ask your questions in the sun, and look for the answers in the bloom of flowers or swirls of clouds. Now you whisper into abyssal shadows and they whisper back with a man’s rasp.
Not everyone can see it, the unusual glint in your eyes or the sharp edge to your smile. For those that do, it’s something of an open secret - that you provide more than helpful tonic and tinctures for common ailments.
A serum against pregnancy. A syrup for unkind spouses. Cut cords for bad friends and bent coins for poor business partners.
Tonight it’s the smith’s daughter. She’s just come into adulthood this past spring. A crown of youth on her brow, vitality draped around her shoulders. Darkened, this eve, by deals made with her as the currency. You see it beneath the sweep of her skirt, a chain of her father’s own making, a key in the hand of the mayor’s son. It drags her step in your doorway, rattling along the wood floors.
“Irina,” you greet.
She doesn’t admit it right away, demuring to purchase her father’s usual burn salve. You don’t pry, instead taking your time to spoon the thick, cloudy mixture into a small jar.
“You’ve…”
You tilt your head to show your attention, expression open. She clears her throat, smooths her skirt, tries again.
“My father designs to wed me to Boris.”
She blurts it like the words escaped between the gaps in her teeth, looks shocked in their wake You flick Nikto a reproachful glance.
“Is that so?” you reply mildly, as neutral as you can manage.
“I don’t want to,” she whispers, as though it is a shameful secret. But there is little shame to be found in your presence, and when your expression only reflects polite interest, she repeats herself, stronger. “I don’t want to. Boris is a coward and his father is…”
Mean. Lascivious. A bastard with a heavy hand and wine for blood, kind only to coin.
You don’t make her say it all aloud, you’ve heard it just fine.
“Is it an ear you’re after?” you ask. “I’ll listen.”
You do not offer more. It is something she must request of her own will. For your sake as much as hers.
It only takes another breath for her to gather the courage.
“Would you help me?”
“I would.”
You don’t jump as Nikto pours himself over your shoulders, teeth already scraping the nape of your neck. He’s hard and insistent against your spine, where scars of his teeth have begun to blossom. You sense that you’ll have a new notch for the collection soon, already feel slick and achy with the promise of his maw.
“What will it cost?” Irina asks, fidgety.
Your cunt three times over. Your blood on my tongue. Your juices down my throat.
“That will depend on our solution,” you say over Nikto’s sibilant entreaties.
Irina’s brow furrows. “Not coin?”
“Maybe coin,” you correct. “Do you want any of these three men dead?”
She startles, pales. Nikto groans in your ear, hips jerking hard, cock catching on the laces of your corset. Irina mistakes the sound for your shop settling, eyes flicking nervously around as if either of you will be caught.
“N-no!” she answers. “No, that’s too - I just want papa to change his mind. O-or for Boris to… to wed someone else. Is that wicked of me?”
You shake your head, soften your smile to ease her conscience. Once upon a time, you stood on the other side of the counter like she is now.
“Then coin won’t be necessary. I have a different price.”
Her shoulders lower, just a bit, curiosity where she should be wary. Coin is a paltry payment in comparison to things a creature like you could request instead. 
“What is it?”
“Scrap from your father’s forge, as much as you can manage, and whatever Boris gave you for your hand. Bring them to me tomorrow night.”
You fish a shirt button from beneath the counter. Prick your thumb on a needle and press the droplet of blood that wells into the smooth surface.
“This is a contract of my services,” you explain as it dries in the open air. Nikto inhales deep and ravenous, tongue flicking over the shell of your ear.
“If you take this, there is no going back. Do you understand?”
Irina hesitates; she’s always been a smart girl. That’s why she knew to come to you.
“What happens if I don’t come back with the payment?”
You flick a glance at Nikto, but he’s too busy toying with the ribbon around your throat. Patience fraying with each beat of your heart.
“Even I don’t know, but I’d rather neither of us find out, yes?”
“Alright. I understand.”
She accepts the bloodied button and drops it into the pocket of her frock.
“Tomorrow,” she promises, and steals out into the night.
Nikto bends you over the counter, heavy body flattening you to the polished wood. It’s unnaturally warm beneath your cheek. You suck in as much air as you can while he paws at the hidden parts in your skirts. He growls to find you wet and willing (always, regardless of what your mouth says) between your thighs. 
“Tithe,” he rasps, sinking to his knees.
Massive arms snake around your thighs as he finds his home between them. Buries his nose in the soft crop of curls so that his tongue and lips and teeth can partake in the sweet offerings below.
“All this for a severed tether?” you gasp, hips twitching in a bid to escape the too much, too fast, too good of it all.
His grip does not relent. On the contrary, it only tightens, dragging you down to smother himself in your cunt.
“Yes,” he hisses.
He takes and takes and takes. Sucks your clit until it’s throbbing at the slightest touch. Licks at the rim of your cunt, forcing his tongue deeper and deeper. Impossibly deep, until you feel the tip of it curl against the hard wall of your cervix, the root of it as thick as two of his fingers.
Your knees have long given out, your voice but a weak trill in your throat. It’s only when he hears you sniffling that he wrenches himself away.
“Give me,” he demands, surging up.
Laves that slick, black, inhuman tongue up your jaw, over your cheek. Doubles back to swipe at half-dried tears that dripped down your neck and onto your hands. He makes an obscene sound when the salt mixes with the dried blood on the pad of your thumb.
“I want to eat you,” he snarls, baring his teeth against the tender veins of your wrist.
“Maybe one day,” you pant, “when I’ve passed on. You can have my corpse.”
His eyes snap open, a manic rage burning so hot it feels cold. 
“Never,” he snarls, cruel fingers plunging into your tender cunt.
You cry out and grip onto his shoulders, fresh tears sliding down your hot cheeks. There is no mercy in Nikto, not even for you. He strokes and pets your walls relentlessly, abusing all the sensitive places he’s long mapped out. Brutal as the muscles in his arm bunch and jump with the pace and force of it.
“Never,” he repeats. Teeth in your throat but you can still hear his voice. It’s so loud and rough that glass rattles. “Just like this. You stay just like this for me. Mine, all mine. Always. My little witch.”
He makes you cum on his fingers, then jerks his angry cock using your release to ease the way. Spends himself in burning, sticky ropes directly onto your clit. As you drag in ragged breaths, he draws his sigil inside your cunt with your mixed fluids.
The bond has long been formed, there is no need to renew it. Your soul is no more or less his than before. You still shiver with the memory, an echo of the sublime sensation of your soul taking new shape. Making room for something else to lace through it.
“S-someone is coming,” you whimper, weak in every sense.
“Dmitiri,” Nikto answers. You knew who it was, of course, but you don’t think he would abide you saying any other name right now.
“Leave his order on the counter and make sure he pays,” you sigh, limping away in search of water.
Nikto may be a bastard, but he manages to follow your orders most of the time.
Irina returns the next evening with all that you asked. A bucket of metal scraps and shavings. In a little velvet pouch, a simple gold engagement ring.
“The button too,” you request.
Nikto, raven-shaped this evening, swoops in to snatch it from her fingers. She yelps, moon-eyed as he perches on a tall shelf and swallows the button down his scarred gullet.
“Should… should it eat that?” she asks.
You don’t even glance at him. “Too late now, isn’t it?”
She doesn’t look amused so you laugh softly and assure her, “He’ll be alright. He’s done it before.”
You turn away, scooping up the items for the spell.
“Now then, take this pin. Carve your name into one candle, and Boris’s name into the other,” you instruct.
“Which one is which?” she asks, a green candle in one hand.
“Your choice,” you reply simply.
When she’s done as you ask, you tie a piece of twine between the two, about halfway down. Set them on a metal plate facing each other and light first Irina’s, then Boris’s.
“Pull up that stool. Watch the candles burn down to the wick.”
It takes nearly an hour. You keep half an eye on it. Watch the candle meant to represent Boris start to eat at the twine, a slow encroachment towards the midpoint. Only for Irina’s flame to latch onto its end of the tie and scorch through the knot, the remaining length falling away.
Irina gasps softly, glances up to find you already watching. Studiously turns back to observe the remainder of the melt.
In the meantime, you continue forming the other half of your spell. Irina has been too preoccupied to notice the raven’s disappearance. Nikto is behind you again, guiding your hands to carve the woodblock in neat little peels. His fingers are threaded between yours, dripping raw power that you shape with intent. If Irina were to look, it would just seem that the candlelight casts strange shadows down your forearms.
When the candles have burned down to nothing, and Irina turns to you expectantly, you press a finger to your lips.
“Do not speak again until sunrise. When you get home, throw this into the hearth, as deep as you can get it. No trace of it will remain, rest assured.”
You press the carved wooden key into her palm. Her eyes trace the unfamiliar runes in wonder, but she keeps her silence and takes her leave with one final, grateful nod.
It is only just past midnight, but you yawn. The connection between Irina and Boris was not a strong one, but severing the covetous teeth of the mayor’s greed was tedious.
He has a weakness for fair hair and light eyes - both qualities passed down to Irina in lovely spades. Qualities his own wife doesn’t possess, but he would gladly see in his son’s if he had his way.
“Nikto.”
“All for a severed tether,” he purrs.
You tsk at him, shove his face away when he tries to steal a kiss.
“Finish the spell and then you will be rewarded,” you huff, waving him off. “Useless thing.”
He moans softly, eyes burning into you. “Useless,” he agrees, sharp teeth grazing your cheek. “Worthless.”
“Out with you. We’ve not all night,” you chastise.
He sinks slowly into the shadows; his eyes are the last to disappear.
Winter preparations are well under way.
A small mountain of firewood is steadily accumulating in the backyard, stacking higher and wider by the day. You’ve already finished harvesting the last of the garden, drying, preserving, and pickling by the jar. Have knitted half a dozen more shawls and socks with thick wool yarn.
Cough medicines, warming tinctures, lotions and ointments. You’re accumulating your winter remedies along the back wall and in crates beneath the counter, well-stocked for the town and smaller surrounding villages that frequent your shop.
Thus far, Nikto has brought you two pelts, and promised two more before the season truly sets in. A new pillow has also been added to your nest bed, a puffy, heavy thing of feathered down and cotton.
You like it so much that you bounce on Nikto’s cock until morning when he brings it to you, spitting into his mouth whenever he opens it in supplication. You drop lavender buds into the casing and breathe it deep as he lays you down after daybreak. It makes an excellent throne for your pelvis when you’re too worn (or over-pleasured) to hold yourself up any longer.
Still, as promising as your preparations are, you need items unavailable even in town. The journey to the nearest city is one day's (or night’s) walk there, and another back. Well worth the trouble.
Nikto has no particular affection for any dwelling, so long as it’s yours. He’s just as eager to travel as you are.
Before nightfall, you drop off any orders expected in your absence, and receive well wishes from your customers. No one asks why you are traveling alone at night. No one warns you that it would be too dangerous.
Nikto accompanies you along the well-trod road, a hooded figure more likely to be mistaken for the grim reaper than your familiar. He’s human enough if you don’t look at him for too long. A tall man thick with muscle, broad-shouldered, built for labor. Likely malformed beneath the scarf hiding his features below those blue eyes - or perhaps just shy.
Just don’t try to peer into the depths of that hood, or ponder that mysterious scarf for too long. The moon acts as a strange prism, waters down the light into eerie refractions. One might start to imagine sharp teeth peeking through ripped lips. Or glimpse poorly sewn hills of flesh, nothing but dark, empty space between the seams.
Luckily, there are no travelers on the road this late into the night. Any errant gaze is that of night creatures, and those know well to avoid the shadow at your side - and you by extension.
The trip into the city is no great adventure, but you weren’t looking for one. Nikto, you sense, is something almost like disappointed. You arrive in the small hours of the morning, just as the earliest risers have begun their day.
The innkeeper seems surprised by such an early (or late) guest, but is happy enough to welcome you in. Bread has yet to be bought from the baker, but there’s stew that’s been simmering overnight. It’s warm and hearty and thick. You eat two bowls with a cup of peach wine, pay for food and board for the next two days, and retire to the second story of rooms.
The bed is not nearly as comfortable as yours. The blankets are thin and woven, though they are layered enough to be warm. The mattress and pillow are both straw - comfortable by most standards, but a poor substitute for your cotton and wool and furs and down.
You make due on Nikto’s rumbling chest (prideful that you miss what he has so diligently provided) and let yourself drift into slumber.
At midday, you wake. City merchants aren’t accustomed to your odd hours, and you don’t want anything to be out of stock - you’re not the only one that’s made the journey for winter.
Luckily, it’s an overcast day and the sun isn’t too obnoxious when you venture out. You get a sweet bun from the bakery to tide your hunger while you shop. Follow Nikto’s whispering for directions, or to pick the best items of any selection. Spoil yourself a bit on honey from abroad and a new grimoire.
Return to the inn at the brightest part of the day for a nap. Rouse again in the late afternoon for more exploring and shopping, as well as a drink at one of the alehouses.
You’ve no friends in the city - or anywhere, really, for that matter. But being surrounded by good spirits and bright noise provides an unusual source of energy. There’s a band to watch and strong drink, some gambling that you amuse yourself meddling in from afar.
There are eyes on you, but there always are in such a busy place. You tend to attract very few gazes, but the ones you do will return time and time again, musing at the lone figure by the wall. None are brave enough to approach - especially not when it grows dark enough for Nikto to reveal himself.
Even he is in unusual form, telling you stories of a bygone time. A time when perhaps he was more finite than he is now. He uses names you’ve heard before, in passing, and chuckles at exploits more mortal than he deigns to participate in now. You like to hear it, like to provide him with the excess buzzing in your veins.
When the crowd begins to thin, you take your leave. He stays at your side (always too close, nearly underfoot) all the way to the inn, and is waiting in your room when you come up with the meal. He manhandles you into his lap and feeds you with his fingers, pours water into your mouth from his.
You stave him off until your food settles, and then he’s taking you into his lap. Has you twice before you doze off. Wakes you three hours later with his tongue lapping at your swollen folds. Has you twice more before you settle in properly until dawn.
The second day passes in much the same fashion as the first. Your indulgence this time is a pretty, slender knife, a length of ribbon, and a simple burgundy frock. The combination has Nikto salivating by the time you return to your room to rest. Not that there’s much to be had with you splayed out over your new garment, his hands and mouth and cock working you over until a puddle of slick and cum forms beneath your writhing bodies.
You send him to wash the stains in annoyance, and it’s returned seemingly pristine - though he gloats that the scent of your coupling remains. At least to him.
Nasty creature.
“If I get tired, you will be carrying me,” you huff on the road home.
He nuzzles his nose into your temple, a silent assurance that you need only say the word.
Halfway there, a band of highwaymen makes the fatal mistake of trying to ambush the two of you. Aware that anyone coming from the city will be laden with coins or goods, they would be correct if you were anyone else.
You click your tongue, steps never faltering.
“Kill anyone that’s taken an innocent,” you call over your shoulder.
“Mistress,” Nikto churrs into the air, breath so cold it sinks in the chilly air.
An unnatural growl reverberates off the trees. You don’t spare a glance behind you, steps easy and light, crunching over dead leaves and dry twigs.
A hand lands on your shoulder - heavy… and then not. Heat splatters and soaks into your sleeve, dripping down towards your wrist. The severed arm falls with a wet, fleshy thump.
Always so messy.
You tilt your head, veer off the road and follow your intuition until you find a stream. Humming, you shed your clothes and saunter into the gentle current. It’s frigid, only just unfrozen. You sigh, minding your step for slippery rocks as you wade deeper. The water rises past your scratched calves, over bitten thighs, soothes your well-used cunt and the bruises on your hips. Tingles over the silvery flesh of your scarred back until it’s nearly to your breasts.
Only then does the water darken around you.
Nikto’s hand closes around your wrist, draws your arm back until he can lick away the smears of a stranger’s blood.
Feast before the season’s famine.
You moan softly at the drag of his serpentine tongue along your skin. The ball of your shoulder, the curve of your tricep and bicep. Tickling the bend of your elbow… up your forearm… and wrist. Twisting between each digit. You lean into the sturdy pillar of his body until his other arm curls around your waist. You stand with him in the water like that, cradled by shadow and bathed in moonlight.
He is never hasty, but tonight he’s unusually slow. Almost lazy.
Wait, no. Not lazy. 
Deliberate.
Each flick of his tongue, scrape of teeth, brush of lips is applied with the same care and reverence afforded to an altar.
You tilt your head to rest against his shoulder, bare your throat. Peer through lidded eyes at the thick fingers twining with yours.
It’s as if he plunged his hands into a fireplace and didn’t care to dust away the charcoal and ash afterwards. It fades at the forearm into alabaster. In the crease of his elbow, it looks like he has ink for blood. You know from experience that it tastes of almonds and tannins, heavy on the tongue like thick wine.
You let him lay you down on the bank, dry and clean. He pampers you on his cock with slow, languid rolls of his hips. Grinds deep, pulls out only halfway to massage the head into that sweet spot over and over until you’re shuddering apart with a deep, heavy moan. He finishes on your stomach and thighs, drawing symbols into your skin before rubbing it in.
“Nikto,” you croon, thumb drawing a line down the left side of his face. From forehead, over his eye, down to the corner of his mouth where there’s an unnatural split. He lets you scrape your nail against the big canine, amusing yourself on the sharper bicuspid just beside it. “My Nikto.”
He purrs into your chest, drooling down your sternum.
“Who do you belong to?” he asks.
You smile, indulgent.
“I belong to Nobody.”
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There is a possibility of a second part. Maybe. If that's something people want.
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planetaryupscaled · 4 months
Text
Our Little Secret
Male Reader x Eunbi
Tags: 4k, creampie, stepmom
The story is not ours; we simply alter the original story to our preferred settings.
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“Oh you like that? you naughty boy.”
I became a new half-brother three months ago, at the age of twenty-three. Though I know this is completely normal, it still feels strange to be so much older than my sister. Even stranger that my step-mom is not much older than me. A year ago, my dad married a twenty seven year old woman. She had her child three months ago at the age of 28. It still feels strange to see them with a baby. But I'm getting used to it.
As I walked up to the door of their house, I took out my key and unlocked the door letting myself in. Walking in, I set my bag next to the staircase.
“Hello.”
“Hey Tae,” my step-mother, Eunbi, called. “In the living room.”
Walking into the living room I was a little startled as she was breastfeeding Sooyun on the couch.
“I hope you’re not offended by this,” Eunbi said looking up at me with smile. “I was just finishing giving her a snack before putting her down for bed.”
“Oh no, not at all,”
“Good,” she replied with a soft smile. “Going to put her down and let your dad watch her for a while. Though he’s taking a quick nap, had a hard day at work I guess.”
“Figures,” I said with a bit of a knowing look.
“Yep, that’s him. Always the party crasher,” Eunbi said as she walked out of the room.
As Eunbi walked by me, I caught a glimpse of one of her breasts, as she hadn't put that side of her spaghetti strap top back on. She obviously wasn’t wearing a bra and while I had noticed it before, her breasts really had grown quite a bit since her pregnancy. Probably has a lot to do with the milk stored in them now. She used to probably be something like a B cup, I never looked that hard really, she is my step-mother after all.
I was sitting on the couch with a bottle of water by the time she came back into the living room. Walking back in I looked a little more closely. At her breasts and entire body, they really had grown a considerable amount.
Eunbi was very attractive. She had pretty tanned skin and black long hair that flowed down her shoulders. Her eyes were dark brown. She was pretty much back in good shape, loosing most of all that extra pregnancy weight, which just in three months is pretty amazing. Eunbi was about 5’3” I would guess and what she was wearing only helped make her look better. Not that she really needs it.
Since it was the middle of summer, it made sense that she had on the black spaghetti strap top which she had put back into place but still no bra. She was wearing light colored jean shorts that probably went to about mid-thigh, showing off her legs nicely with a pair easy slip-on sandal.
“Would you like anything else to drink?” Eunbi asked as she noticed my bottle of water.
“No, water is just fine,” I replied with a soft smile.
“Oh being healthy tonight huh?” she teased lightly.
“Hey! I am, most of the time,” I shot back playfully.
“Well,” she replied looking at me. “With a physique like that, you must.”
“Water does help,” I replied mid laugh and with a smile. “Thanks.”
Eunbi then walked over and sat next to me on the couch as she turned on the TV, with only about four inches separating our legs. She turned down the volume enough so that we could still hear each other talking.
“So did you have a decent day?” Eunbi asked turning her head to look at me.
“Eh it wasn’t so bad,” I replied with a smile. There was a moment after I replied that we both looked into each other's eyes for a second longer than usual before we both turned our heads to look back at the TV.
“Ahh shoot,” Eunbi sighed as she stretched her legs out in front of her, stretching her muscles. “I forgot Sooyun’s bottle in the kitchen, and I am so full of milk right now. Sooyun didn’t want much earlier.”
She gently held her breasts underneath them on the bottom as she referred to how full they were. It was then that I noticed her nipples were really hard and pushing outward underneath her top. It feels kind of wrong marveling at her breasts like that, but I can’t say I don’t like them either.
“I’ll go get it for you.” As I was about to go get it, she held my hand.
“Oh no, don’t worry about it, I can do it later.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah…” she replied with a smile. As she said that she moved herself right next to me, the sides of our bodies touching and she laid her head down on my shoulder, “I’m sure.”
I wrapped my arm around her, letting my hand rest on her shoulder as I held her gently. Her hair smelled good too, she must have taken a shower a little bit before I got here. A fruity smell, maybe mango or something like that.
“I hope she turns out to be as nice and caring as you,” Eunbi said softly with her head still on my shoulder and looking forward.
“I’m sure she will and thank you for the compliment.”
With that she moved her head and looked up at me with her pretty brown eyes and said, “Of course. You fully deserve it. You’re a wonderful step son.”
I smiled back as she said that, meeting her smile. We held the gaze for a few moments looking into each other's eyes, perhaps a couple seconds too long this time. Breaking the gaze, she laid her head back on my shoulder. Looking down I noticed her nipples were still hard, maybe even harder now.
“This may sound kind of strange but I was wondering,” I started to ask looking down at her. “Do you ever...taste yourself? I’m just curious. I would think mothers would.”
Propping her head up a bit she looked back at me and asked, “You mean my milk?”
“Umm...” I started to reply as I let it sink it what she said. Realizing that what I asked could have meant something else that I didn’t mean to ask at all I quickly said, “Yes, your milk.”
“I have actually, yes... it’s kind of sweet tasting with a bit of a saltiness to it,” she said giggling a little bit as she smiled back at me obviously getting what I was realizing. “Why? Did you wonder what it tasted like?”
“Just curious, really,” I replied somewhat innocently. “Though I guess now that I think about it, yeah I did.”
“Would you like to try some? It is safe for grown people too!” she said playfully.
“Umm, I guess…” I said somewhat hesitantly. Not quite what I had in mind but this seemed o.k. “Do I need a glass or something?” dumb question to ask on my part.
“No need,” she said with a smile looking me in the eyes. “It is best if you try it from the source.”
“Eunbi...” I called out her name. “I’m not sure that’s a great idea... I know we’re not related and all but you are my step mom.”
“Its fine…” she said reassuringly. “One little suck isn’t mean anything and no one will ever know but us.”
With that, she pushed both straps of her top down her arms, over and off of her breasts. Exposing them. Her large tanned skin, luscious looking breasts were gorgeous. Her aureoles were dark pink, large, and swollen, and her nipples were hard and pushed straight out. Her breasts hung down slightly, which she pushed out by pushing her chest forward as she looked at me.
“Wow they’re gorgeous,” I whispered softly under my breath, realizing a moment later she probably heard me.
“Thanks,” she replied with a smile looking at me and gently cupping her breasts at the bottom of them. “Take your pick as to which one you want your sample from. Just be careful, they’re extra sensitive right now.”
I smiled back, looking her in her eyes before slowly lowering my head. I moved my mouth toward the one closest to me—her left one. As my mouth neared her nipple, I slowly stuck out my tongue and gently flicked the tip of her nipple. She drew in a short quick gasp as I did and I knew, even if it was wrong, that she probably wouldn’t mind if I had more than one quick suck.
As my mouth reached her nipple, I grasped it with my lips. Gently flicking it with my tongue inside my mouth, I began to softly suck on her hard nipple. Feeling milk seep out of her nipple and into my mouth I sucked a little bit harder as then her milk squirted into my mouth. It did taste somewhat sweet with a hint of saltiness. It wasn’t too bad as I swallowed it and sucked harder, getting more of her milk into my mouth.
After that larger suck I removed my mouth and ran my tongue from her nipple all the way across her other breast to her other nipple. Grasping that one in my lips just as I had the other, I began sucking on it taking her milk into my mouth. Moving my hand up I very gently pinched her other nipple as I sucked.
“Ohhh,” Eunbi sucked in a sharp gasp. “Oh Tae, I haven’t been touched like this in months. This isn’t right but… don’t stop.”
Hearing her say that only made me suck harder, taking more of her sweet warm milk into my mouth. After I had a little more of her milk, I removed my lips from her nipple and looked up at her smiling. She returned the smile and looked at me with her brown eyes which said that she clearly wanted more.
Moving my head up to be level with hers, I took a chance and leaned in and kissed her gently on her soft lips. She didn’t back away, instead she kissed me back, gently at first but soon we were kissing passionately. She had wrapped her arms around me, pressing her breasts into my chest. I had one arm around her while my other hand was pinching one of her hard nipples.
In the middle of our embrace, she abruptly stopped and pulled away. Looking back at me, “We can’t… This is wrong, what are we thinking? especially not right here and now, your dad, he’s only taking a nap. He could wake at any time.”
“Yeah...” I sighed softly as I leaned in and gave her a quick kiss. “I guess you’re right.”
“No more of that either, except this last one…” she said with a sly smile as she gave me a hard deep kiss before pulling away.
Eunbi then cupped her breasts in her hands, gently kneading them outward squirting her milk out of her nipples at me, particularly my face. I smiled at her as she did it a few times before putting her top correctly back on.
“I’m so glad you liked that,” she said gently wiping the milk off my face. “I don’t know if we can ever continue this, it is wrong, but deep inside, I definitely want to.”
“Am too,” I smiled back at her.
“Good, I am glad we understand each other,” she replied. “I'll go get dinner ready.”
With that she got up off the couch and left the living room. I couldn’t believe what had just happened. Was this some kind of dream? I pinch myself, nope I guess it wasn’t. I really had just sucked milk out of my step-mothers nipples and we had both enjoyed it immensely.
The rest of the evening went by and we had our dinner, and talked about random things before saying our goodnights and heading to bed.
Getting to my room was all the way up the third floor of the house. It was somewhat of a loft because it was the only thing up here. The staircase came directly into the room after opening the door. But you didn't have to go up a ladder, so it wasn't really a loft. Getting into bed I decided to sleep naked like I normally do. It was warm enough and after a little while of dozing, I fell right asleep.
I wasn’t sure if I was going to hear the baby during the night as they were all the way down on the first floor. But sure enough I was able to as at about 2 am when she started crying. After about 30 minutes it seemed to be perfectly quiet again with no outbursts at all.
About 15 minutes later, I heard the door to my room creak open, then close again. Looking up from my bed still in a groggy sleep, I saw Eunbi standing near the door, watching me. She was wearing what looks to be a silk nightgown in a light peach shade color that goes down to her mid-thigh. Her nipples were hard again and pushing against the fabric. I smiled at her as she looked at me.
“I know I said we probably couldn’t do any of this again,” she said quietly. “But my body and mind are just begging to be touched again. I haven’t been touched like you did earlier in a long time.
“Your dad once I got close to term with Sooyun stopped wanting to be with me in this sort of way for the most part. And now after she’s born, it’s been even worse. I need, and want the attention.”
“I don’t know how anyone could pass up someone as gorgeous and sexy as you,” I replied with a smile.
As I said that, she walked over to the edge of my bed, pulled back the covers, and got in next to me, smiling. She placed herself close to mine before she leaned in and kissed me, we kissed passionately as she ran her hand down the side of my body from my shoulder down to my thigh.
“Sleeping naked huh?” she whispered with a mischievous smile. “I like that. I’m only wearing this nightgown, and I’m sure we could change that.”
“Oh?” I commented giving her soft kiss. “Well, why don't we right now?”
Eunbi smiled at me as she sat up in bed and pulled her nightgown over her head, revealing her wonderful breasts as well as her pussy. Looking down, I noticed she had some hair down there before wriggling back under the covers and pushing closer to me.
“Sorry about the hair down there,” she said looking down her body. “I have let it grow lately without doing much to it.”
“Sorry?” I replied with a bit of shock that she was apologizing. “You’re gorgeous how you are. I love it.”
“Really?” She commented excitedly with a smile and a warm kiss. “I’ll keep it then. Just for you. Our little secret.”
Gently running my hand down her soft skin on the outside of her thigh I slowly moved inside and then upward. She instinctively moved her legs apart as I reached her pussy, which was hairy, wet and warm.
“Mmmmm,” Eunbi moaned quietly as my hands ran across the slit of her pussy lips. “I need this so bad.”
“And I want this too bad.” I said.
Eunbi trying to push her pussy down more onto my hand. “You can have all of me that you want, the way you want.”
I gently slipped two fingers into her wet throbbing pussy and began pushing them in and out of her, curling them inside as she moaned quietly in pleasure. Taking my fingers out, I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her body against mine, pressing my hard thick cock into her mound of pussy hair as I kissed her deeply and passionately.
She broke away a little bit and grasped my hard cock in her hand, starting to stroke it up and down with her slender fingers from its base to its head.
“Ohhh Eunbi…” I moaned as she increased her speed while stroking my hard cock. “That feels so good… don’t stop.”
As she continued to stroke my cock, I took one of her breasts in my mouth. Wrapping my lips around one of her hard nipples I began to suck on it letting her milk squirt into my mouth. I continued to suck on it, letting more and more of her sweet milk into my mouth. She stopped stroking me as intensely as she was groaning in pleasure from my sucking and pinching of her other nipple.
“Oh god Tae, yes...take all the milk you want from me,” she moaned in pleasure.
Smiling up at her after she said that, I moved to her other breast licking her big sensitive dark pink swollen aureole before grasping her nipple with my lips. Sucking in I took more large squirts of her milk into my mouth, savoring its sweet taste.
Eunbi had moved her hand back to my hard cock and was slowly stroking it up and down, playing with the head of it and any pre-cum with her thumb.
“Mmmm, oh yes,” I groaned lightly as I took my mouth off of her nipple.
“Oh do you like that Tae?” Eunbi asked playfully. “Glad you do because I can’t go any longer without your big hard thick cock inside me. I’m throbbing for it more than I knew I ever could.”
With that she threw back the covers on the bed and straddled me. Kneeling over me she pressed my cock down on my stomach with her hairy pussy and grinded gently on it. Smiling down at me she began to knead her breasts outward, squirting milk out of them toward my chest and face.
“Do you like that? Oh you naughty boy,” she said with a mischievous smile as her milk squirted out of her hard nipples over me. “I’m a mommy now. Do you want to fuck your step mommy’s pussy? You better, because I want your hard cock so bad.”
I nodded as she moved her hips up, placing the tip of my cock on the slit of her hairy pussy. She gently moved my tip of my cock along her lips, feeling her pussy hair before pushing her hips down, sliding the head of my cock inside her.
“Ohh god…” Eunbi gasped as it entered her and she continued pushing down, taking me all inside. “Oh yes...yes. Fill me up, mommy wants all your cock!”
I pushed up as she slid down my hard thick cock, pushing my entirety into my step-mom’s love hole. Her wet pussy was swishing around my cock as she began to go up and down on me.
Eunbi was bouncing up and down, lifting her hips all the way up so just the head of my cock was inside her before pushing herself right back down to the base of my cock. Her big swollen breasts were jiggling frantically up and down as she rode me. I reached up and began massaging her breasts as she bounced, making her spray her milk.
She bent down so I could take her nipple in my mouth as she continued to push herself up and down on my hard cock. I began sucking on her nipple, enjoying the flow of her milk into my mouth.
“Oh god, yes,” Eunbi moaned as I sucked on her nipple taking her milk. “Suck out mommy’s milk while you fuck me...ohhhh, god yes.”
My cock was pumping in and out of her wet pussy and I continued to suck out her milk from her nipples.
I then slid my hands down the sides of her body to her waist as Eunbi sat upright on top of me again, bouncing up and down on my hard cock. I could feel her pussy walls loosely grasping at my cock as I pushed into her. She was moaning with her head back and hair flowing down her back. Her juices were leaking out of her pussy and down my cock to my balls, making a spot on the bed.
I could feel my cock beginning to thicken inside of her as well as my balls beginning to contract as she continued to ride me. Eunbi could feel it too as she went up and down even fast and harder.
“Oh you’re going to cum soon aren’t you?” Eunbi said breathing heavily looking down at me with a smile. “You better cum deep inside of me. Mommy needs to be full of cum, maybe you get yourself another sibling.” She said with a seductive smile.
We were both moaning as my cock continued to thicken inside her as I went hard and fast in and out her wet cunt. I began to feel her pussy contract in pleasure and I just couldn’t take it anymore.
Thrusting myself up deep inside of her, Eunbi slammed down on my cock and sat there grinding into me as I began to spasm inside of her. My cock was erupting inside of her, spraying my warm sticky cum deep into my step-mom’s pussy. Eunbi continued to grind on me causing her hanging breasts to sway back and forth as my cock still pushed my cum out and deep inside her.
“Oh god...fuck…yes...” Eunbi breathed out sharply as she felt my cum shoot deep inside her wanting pussy. “God that feels good, oh I needed this so bad. Oh Tae, you’ve made mommy feel so… so good!”
Looking up at her smiling, I reached up cupping her breasts and gently pinched her swollen nipples before massaging her breasts. Softly kneading them her nipples began to spray out more milk onto my chest. Eunbi then replaced her hands with mine as she lifted her hips up, removing my wet cock from her wet pussy. Laying down beside me, Eunbi massaged her breasts aiming her spraying milk at my chest and face. Licking my lips I took as much of her sweet milk as I could smiling.
“So love that you like this,” Eunbi said giggling at me with her milk on my face. “I need this from you more than just this once.”
“So I take it, mommy...is doing alright?” I said with a smile, emphasizing the word mommy.
She gave me a huge smile as I said that, leaning in and giving me a big warm kiss. She then pushed her hips toward me as we were lying on our sides, pressing her mound of pubic hair against my semi-limp wet cock. I pushed my hips forward rubbing against her hair as I wrapped my arms around her, kissing her passionately.
“Yes, oh yes,” Eunbi whispered breaking our embrace. “Only thing mommy would want now, is more of your cum in mommy’s already cum filled pussy,” she added with a warm smile.
Giving her a mischievous smile, I rolled her onto her back and got on top of her. Her legs spread apart instinctively as I climbed on top of her. My cock was now hard again; I teased her with it, gently rubbing the tip of it on her hairy pussy lips.
“Oh god… no teasing, just fuck me already, fill me up with that hard cock,” Eunbi breathed as she heaved her hips upwards.
Pushing my hips down, I slid my hard cock into her sopping wet pussy easily. Starting to move my hips up and down, I was pushing my hard thick cock as deep into her as I could go.
Her walls of her pussy were grasping at my cock, hugging it as tight as they could. Our juices had mixed together and were seeping out of her now, trickling out of her pussy down over her ass and to the bed, making a bit of a little puddle.
Thrusting my hard thick cock into here sopping wet hairy pussy, she was matching my motions by thrusting her hips up. God, she felt so good wrapping around my cock. I wish I could do this all day long but I knew that wasn’t going to happen plus I wasn’t going to be able to last that long this time.
Continuing to push my hard cock into her, I cupped one of her breasts in my hand and brought my head down toward it. Running my tongue around the dark swollen aureole I then grasped her hard nipple and sucked. Her milk squirted out, filling my mouth with her sweetness.
“Mmmmm!... Oh god yes,” Eunbi moaned bucking her hips up hard. “Take mommy’s milk in your mouth.... oh yes, like that...and her pussy, oh yes...push your hard cock deep into mommy’s pussy.”
I couldn’t take it much longer, my hard cock was thickening inside her as my balls were beginning to contract while I took one more suck from her nipple, tasting her sweet milk in my mouth over my tongue. She could tell I wasn’t going to last much longer as she pushed her hips up hard and wrapped her legs around my ass pulling me in.
Pressing my cock into her wet hairy loose pussy as deep as it could go, I began to let go. My cock started to convulse inside her tightening pussy walls, spraying my second warm sticky cum deep into her pussy. Bucking her hips into me, Eunbi moaned as my cock pushed out more of my cum into her warm pussy.
As we subsided, we collapsed in each other’s arms laying on our sides. Eunbi was pressing her big soft luscious breasts against my chest as she smiled at me.
“Oh Tae,” she said softly. “You’ve no idea how happy you’ve made me.”
“No?” I replied with a smile.
“You filled my pussy with so much cum, I hadn’t had any for so long and now all this...oh god it feels so good,” she whispered with a big smile as she wiggled her hips against me.
Eunbi then reached her hand between her legs, plunging two of her fingers deep into her pussy coating them in the mixture of our juices. Pulling them out she brought them up to her mouth and slowly sucked the juices off of them, savoring the taste.
Smiling back at me with her gorgeous brown eyes after she sucked off the last of our juices on her two fingers, I pushed my naked body against hers as we slowly drifted off to sleep.
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