#and do my piercings count i never remove them

[cherrygirlfriend]

hidden away

pairing: brother's bsf! rafe cameron x reader

genre: smutsmutsmut, minors DNI!!! / oral (m receiving)

synopsis: your brother's best friend convinces you to give him head in a closet

word count: 1.9k

a/n: part three of brother’s best friend but can be read as a standalone!

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩

Music blared in your headphones as you closed the front door behind you, a heart-shaped lollipop between your lips, still on a high from spending time with your friends, moving your body along to the music that came from your headphones, one of your favorite songs playing as you kicked your shoes off of your feet and made your way to the kitchen.

However, when you arrived at the kitchen doorway, you almost let out a loud yelp, startled by a blonde guy you had never met before standing at the fridge. As he turned to face you, you removed your headphones and put them down on the counter, now hearing faint music coming from the living room. "Who are you?" you asked him, your brows furrowed, and you could basically see the lightbulb above his head light up in realization. "Oh, I'm Topper, one of Scott's friends." The stranger said with a smile. "You're his sister, right? We're hanging out in the living room."

You scoffed, storming off to the living room, hell-bent on giving your older brother a piece of his mind about how even if your parents were away, it didn't mean that he had free range to have his friends over at whatever time he'd please, and if he didn't get his friends out of the house, you'd-

Your train of thought was cut off when you felt yourself bumping into someone's broad chest, a pair of piercing blue eyes looking down at you accompanied by that same grin you could make out from a mile away, causing the annoyance in your chest to die down as you cleared your throat, stepping away from him.

"Rafe." You said his name softly, the self-satisfied grin on his face only widening further as he placed his hands on your waist to help keep you steady, causing you to furrow your brows and look up at him like he was insane. "What on Earth are you doing?"

"What's wrong?" He arched his brow suggestively, his hands slowly moving to your hips as his tongue flicked out of the mouth you had gotten to know quite well as of late. The tall blonde brought his lips close to your ear, causing shivers to run down your spine as he whispered into your ear, "From what I remember, you were asking for much more the last time I saw you."

You were suddenly attacked by memories of his head between your legs, of him pressing kisses down your neck as he fucked into you, making you tremble and-

Forcing yourself to stop thinking about what had happened, you tugged him by his hand to the closest door, forcefully pulling him inside and closing the door before realizing you had just trapped yourself into a small broom closet, Rafe's semi-hard cock now pressing into your abdomen as the blonde sported a shit-eating grin on his face, leaning down slightly to bring his lips closer to yours.

You put your hands on his chin, keeping his lips away from yours as you looked into his eyes sternly, "Rafe, you can't just... put your hands on me when anyone could see us, especially my brother. He'd kill you if he found out what we've been doing behind his back."

"I could easily take him. It's not my fault you look so fuckin' tempting... You wear those shorts just for me, or what?" The boy grinned, bringing his hands down to cup your ass, pulling you closer to his body. "Rafe," you looked up at him, noticing that his pupils were dilated and his eyes slightly pink, "are you high right now?"

"Just a tiny bit." Rafe grinned, taking your chin between his index finger and thumb, "But that doesn't change how much I wanna fuck you right now..." He sighed, one of his hands slipping under the hem of your shirt, the feeling of his cool hands against the bare skin of your back, your breath catching in your throat as your back automatically arched into his touch.

"Rafe..." You sighed, his lips finding their way onto your neck, latching onto the skin as you wrapped your arms around him, wanting nothing more than to give into him, to give in to the arousal you could feel stirring inside of you. "Rafe, we can't..."

"Come on, you know you want to..." He whispered, sucking on your neck slightly, the suddenness and intensity of it causing you to let out a small whimper, "I heard that cute little noise... You clearly want it..."

"It's not about that." You said, forcefully pulling him away from your neck, Rafe grinning at the red mark he had left on the skin on your neck before his gaze finally roved over to your eyes, the blonde cocking his head to the side expectantly, silently implying you to give him the reason to your refusal. You sighed, knowing just how insistent he could be, so muttered your reasoning quietly, causing Rafe to furrow his brows.

"Princess, you know I can't hear you."

You rolled your eyes, looking at him with an irritated expression, "I'm on my period, Rafe."

"So?" Rafe shrugged, making you widen your eyes, "You know, I hear that orgasms help with cramps." He grinned, and you softly smacked his forearm, the blonde feigning offense with a small laugh, "I'm just trying to be of assistance!"

"Well, unfortunately, I'm not really into period sex. Even the idea of that mess..." You shiver dramatically, causing him to chuckle as Rafe rests his head against the wall of the broom closet, looking at you pleadingly. "What?"

"Well, could you at least... suck me off or something?" Rafe asks, pouting at you pleadingly, the fakeness of the gesture causing you to roll your eyes in exasperation. "Princess, it's been two weeks since I last saw you, I need something... I'll make it up to you, I promise..."

"How?"

"By returning the favor to you when you're no longer on your period..." He said in a gruff voice, biting down on his lower lip as he sized you up, clearly enjoying the sight of you in nothing but your frayed denim shorts and tank top, "Until you've come on my tongue so many times that you can't even remember your own name."

When the words left his lips, you could feel your breath hitch in your throat, the memory of his mouth sucking greedily on your clit still vivid in your mind as you stepped closer to him, pressing your chest against his, looking up at him through your lashes. "Promise?"

He placed his hand on your jaw before bringing his lips down to yours, kissing you intensely, his hand going to your hair, running his fingers through it softly before pulling away, his kiss still leaving you just as dizzy as it had the first time he had kissed you. "Promise." He said huskily, bringing your hand to the front of his pants, the blonde letting out a hiss as you palmed his erection through them.

Within seconds, you were on the floor of the broom closet, on your knees in front of Rafe as he looked down at you, his pants at his ankles, the blonde quietly groaning as you palmed him through his boxers. He held onto one of the shelves as he threw his head back, more than eager for you to finally stop teasing him. "Come on..." Rafe breathed out, making you chuckle softly before finally giving in, pulling down his boxers to let his hardened cock spring free.

You spit onto your hand, wrapping it around the base of his long cock and giving him a few strokes, the boy letting out ragged breaths as he opened his eyes to look down at you, mouth open as you were preparing to take him into your mouth, his hands running through your hair as before gathering it all into a makeshift ponytail.

When you licked a stripe up the vein running across the underside of his cock, he couldn't help but shiver and slightly tug on your hair as your lips wrapped around the sensitive head of his cock, your tongue darting to get the drop of precum that had leaked onto his tip into your mouth.

With your cheeks hollowed out, you looked up at him with half-lidded eyes, a wave of arousal washing over you as you took half of him into your mouth, bobbing your head at a slow pace as your hand was at the base of his cock, stroking the part of his cock that you hadn't yet managed to get into your mouth.

The fact that you hadn't been able to take all of him into his mouth didn't seem to bother Rafe, though, the blonde's head thrown back in pleasure as you picked up your pace, and when he tugged your hair, you couldn't help the small moan you let out around his cock, causing vibrations to go through all throughout his body, his cock twitching in your mouth as he groaned your name, "Fuck, you're so good..."

When you finally dared to take even more of him into your mouth, his grip on your hair tightened once again and a small whine left his lips, the sound going straight to your core, the sight of the pleasure you were giving him turning you on.

Once you had all of him in your mouth, you gagged around him when the swollen head of his cock hit the back of your throat, causing tears to well up in your eyes. You picked up your pace, Rafe biting down on his lower lip to stop himself from letting out the loud, needy groans that were just begging to get past his lips.

When he let out a shaky breath and tightened the grip he had on your hair, you knew that he was getting close, his already unsteady breaths turning into pants as he opened his eyes, looking down at you with glassy, blue eyes. "Gonna cum in your mouth... Want you to take it all, baby, take all my cum into your pretty mouth..."

You moaned around his cock, causing another wave of vibrations to hit him as he closed his eyes and thrust himself deeper into your mouth, now guiding your head by your hair, the head of his cock now hitting the back of your throat repeatedly until you finally started feeling hot, salty ropes of cum coating your tongue while you helped him ride out his orgasm.

Rafe's eyes fluttered open, looking down at you with a grin as you pulled your lips away from his cock, his grip on your hair loosening as he ran his hand through your hair gently before his index finger and thumb went to your chin, making you look up at him. "Open your mouth."

You felt shivers run down your spine from the commanding tone of his voice, and you did as he told you to, showing him that his release was coating your tongue, the blonde boy letting out a low groan. "Swallow." He said hoarsely, and you closed your mouth, swallowing his cum.

He helped you to your feet, looking down at you with a small grin as he shook his head, pulling his boxers and pants back on. "Do you know how adorable you look when you do what I tell you to?"

Rafe's hand is on your cheek, and you lean into his touch as he brings his lips closer to yours, but just as your lips are about to connect with his, you hear a familiar voice outside of the closet.

"Rafe?" Your brother called out, causing all of the color to drain from your cheeks as you looked up at Rafe with wide eyes.

[hihomeghere]

Salt and Pepper | Arthur Morgan / Reader

Word count : 1.4k Summary : Arthur notices his hair is starting to gray. I saw a post on here about Arthur with salt and pepper hair and I couldn’t stop myself hehe. Warnings/Tags : talk about death, getting old, Arthur loves his wife, no tb, Arthur and reader own a house, mention of past gang members, cursing, lots of fluff, self deprecation on Arthur’s side, bullets, mention of weight gain (in a positive way)

“Godamn ugly bastard.” Arthur huffed, his gaze piercing as he looked into the mirror. He hadn’t meant to have himself a pity party this morning. In fact he was feeling quite fine this morning before looking in the small bathroom mirror. Waking up next to you always puts a spring in his step. Especially when he’s waking up in a real bed, underneath a soft quilt that you happened to sew in some free time. Mismatched patches and all, it was his favorite thing in the small home you two shared. Hell, you were becoming quite domestic ever since the house was completed.

But he wasn’t exactly expecting to find gray hair sprouting from his hairline. He wasn’t that old, was he?

“Jesus.” He sighed, inspecting further he realized it wasn’t one or two gray hairs, it was almost twenty. Hidden under his longer than normal locks after forgoing a haircut for the last couple weeks. He was surprised you hadn’t noticed them, especially with how much you loved to run your fingers through his hair. Although, he loved it just as much, maybe even more.

God, he needed to get rid of these before you saw them. He was sure you had some tweezers around here somewhere. He opened up your drawer, rifling around for your tweezers. Bingo. His hands gripped the small piece of metal, a triumphant smile on his face.

It was only once he looked back up into the mirror, determined to fix this issue before you woke up, that he noticed you padding into the bathroom. Rubbing sleep from your eyes, you wrapped your arms around his middle.

“Mornin’.” You hummed, laying your cheek against his bicep, smiling sweetly at him through the mirror.

“Mornin’.” He said, clearing his throat.

“What do you need those for?” You asked, eyeing the tweezers in his hand. Caught red handed, he tried coming up with some excuse.

“Nothin’ sweetheart.” He said, giving you his signature smile, kissing your forehead. He slipped the tweezers into his pocket for safe keeping, at least until he had a free moment without you around. After all those years on the run and he could come up with nothing, Hosea would have been so disappointed in his lack of an answer. He swore he could hear the old man chastising him now.

“For a former outlaw you sure are an awful liar.” You tutted, shaking your head, slipping your fingers into his pocket and pulling out the tweezers.

“Well it ain’t my fault,” He huffed playfully, “Could never get nothin’ past you anyway.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck. You removed your hands from around his waist, leaning back on the sink as you looked up at him.

“Spill.” You said raising an eyebrow, your arms crossed over your chest.

Knowing he’d been caught, Arthur hung his head, a low sigh leaving his lips.

“It’s just-“ He cursed, turning to look away from you, “Well I’m goin’ gray.” He admitted, not meeting your eyes.

“And?” You asked in such a nonchalant manner.

“And?” He asked looking up at you, his brows furrowed.

“So you have some gray hairs.” You said with a shrug, “You’re acting like the damn world is ending.” You chuckled softly, a smile tugging on your lips.

“Well-“ Arthur sighed, pursing his lips, he didn’t want to be vain but damn it, it did feel like the world was ending.

“Honey.” You said softly, reaching up to cup his cheek. “Ain’t nothing wrong with some gray hairs.” You said, shaking your head, looking so goddamn patient as always. What he did in a past life to deserve you he would never know, he definitely didn’t deserve you in this one. You smiled, running your thumb over his couple day old stubble. He couldn’t help but sigh softly, leaning into your touch.

“Just makes me feel old ‘s all.” He shrugged, closing his eyes.

“Arthur.” You said softly, he opened his eyes. His bright azure pools looking into yours. “Getting old means we’re still alive.” You said pointedly, not missing the way your fingers trailed lightly down his chest.

He sighed softly, anyone who said he was the most like Hosea had obviously never had a one on one conversation with you. You had shared the same dry wit along with being just as wise as the old man. Sometimes he wondered if the two of you were more closely related than just being adopted by him as a kid.

As your hand settled over his heart, he couldn’t help but remember a time when you didn’t have this place. When his next breath had been an undeserved blessing. When you and Charles had pulled his broken body off that godforsaken mountain. You were right, he should be grateful for these gray hairs and new lines on his face. Should be grateful that he made it this far out west with you, where the air was dryer and slowly his lungs didn’t hurt as bad with each breath.

If anything he should be grateful that you’re here, here in this house. The house that he built specifically for you. That you’re not buried six feet under like most of the fellow gang members. That you didn’t catch a bullet like Lenny or Sean, how he wished they could have had the chance to grown old. Even as mouthy as Sean was, the poor bastard didn’t deserve that. Lenny was just a boy, foolish enough to be sucked in by Dutch’s silver tongue. He shook his head trying to clear any thoughts of the past.

God, along with the fact that somehow both of you still happen to be standing, the fact that you chose to stand by him after everything you went through makes his head swim. You could have left him at any point, hell he had begged you to leave after his death sentence. And yet, here you were.

“Guess you’re right.” He said, a small smile tugging on his lips.

“Course I am.” You teased, a smile spreading across your face. You leaned forward, brushing your nose against his. He accepted your silent invitation, pressing his lips against yours. So soft and warm and inviting. He could feel you smile against his lips. That small smile warmed him from the inside out, nearly making his toes curl.

Jesus, he was lucky. More than lucky, he still couldn’t figure out how he had tricked you into marrying him. He wanted to be the best version of himself for you, he had made a promise to try every day to be a better man for you. You shouldn’t be tied down to a miserable old fool like himself.

As if you could read his mind, which he often suspected you could, your soft voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

“Besides,” You began as you pulled away, “I like the salt and pepper look.” Arthur scoffed, shaking his head.

“Really?” He asked, raising a brow.

“Really.” You nodded, running your hand through his hair. “Think you get more handsome every day.” If anyone was getting prettier every day it was you. Your hair was longer, cascading down your shoulders in waves. No longer tied up in a tight braid or bun. You looked relaxed, at peace. You became softer once you both settled into your new lifestyle. Not just emotionally, although you still had that fire which had first drawn him towards you, like a moth to a flame. You were physically softer, your harsh edges smoothing out as you started to eat and sleep better. Your curves became more prominent, and he certainly didn’t mind having more to hold onto late at night.

Maybe you truly did feel the same about him. He had never known you to lie. A blush settled on his cheeks at the thought. He shook his head, a small chuckle rumbling through his chest.

“Yeah, alright darlin’.” He says taking your face in his hands, kissing you again before you had the chance to embarrass him further.

Maybe getting old wasn’t so bad if you had someone to grow old with.

[navybrat817]

Eva, this is an attack!

Sweet as Candy

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky thinks you're the sweetest thing he has ever tasted. Word Count: Over 500 Warnings: Established relationship, fingering, implied explicit sexual content, being in love, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: I wanted to do something more, but the muse refused and we don't push. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky was quiet throughout dinner, which wasn’t unusual. Most nights he was content to listen to you and all of your friends talk about your day or trade stories about parts of missions that you could discuss. Even when Steve, Sam, or anyone else spoke, his piercing blue eyes stayed glued to you. As if your reactions were more important than the words everyone else spoke.

But tonight, the menace had his eyes on you for a completely different reason.

“Buck, you aren’t eating much,” Steve noted as he helped himself to another plate.

“I’m in the mood for something a little sweeter,” he replied.

Your boyfriend didn’t look toward his best friend when he brought his hand to his lips and softly smiled. Sitting across from him you tried to close your legs, but he had his foot between them the moment you sat down. The unsubtle bastard inhaled, smelling your arousal that lingered on his fingers and it took every ounce of strength to not whimper when his tongue darted out to lick along them.

All because he couldn’t keep his hands off you not even a half hour ago.

“Need to be inside you,” he rasped, nipping your earlobe as he reached between your legs. “You need it, too.”

“Bucky, we’re late,” you moaned, making no move to stop him as you pushed your hips back against him, rubbing the growing bulge as his hand moved along your folds. Wet, as always. Once upon, you were a woman who never needed or craved anyone. He changed that.

But since he ruined you, it was only fair that you ruined him in return.

“You love having my attention. If you didn’t like it, you wouldn’t have worn this skirt,” he said, ignoring your words as he unbuckled his pants. “And if you didn’t want me to fuck you, you would’ve worn panties.”

A shiver rolled up your spine when his other hand grasped your chin and forced your head toward his. Your head spun when he pushed his tongue past your lips, two fingers slipping inside you where they belong. If your kisses were like wine, his were like whiskey. You got drunk on each other.

“Look at me,” he ordered when he broke the kiss, a whine slipping out when he removed his fingers. He raised his hand up, your heart pounding as he licked the first finger clean. His eyes stayed locked with yours when he licked the next, groaning sinfully. “Sweetest fucking thing I’ve ever tasted.”

It was almost a warning before he stuffed you full of his cock.

“And the sweetest fucking sound you make is saying my name when I make you come.”

Bucky clearing his throat brought you back to yourself, the earlier memory fading to the back of your mind as his smile widened. One look from him and it disarmed you. Left you breathless. Ignited a fire within you. Filled your heart.

“Love you,” he mouthed, giving his fingers another lick.

You clenched around nothing and smiled. “Love you, too.”

And maybe, just maybe, you’d give him a bit of candy for dessert.

Bucky is a menace and we love him for that. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[lavandulawrites]

Futile

Yandere Kazuha x reader

To think I haven’t written a fic of Kazuha yet. He is my favourite character in genshin<3 Please come with asks/ requests regarding him:)

Synopsis: The white haired samurai’s idea of love was an idea of speckles of red and tight embraces. To hope to escape the clutches of the man you loved seemed futile.

Masterlist

Warnings: violence (not towards reader), murder, obsession, possessiveness, insane Kazuha, future forced marriage, manipulation

Word count: 689

The fire crackled in the little bonfire the silver haired samurai had lit. The fire illuminated his red eyes in a way that made them looked like pools of blood. Similar to the blood that had leaked out of the lifeless body of a man who had bothered you an hour ago. Kazuha had raised his blade without hesitation and pierced his heart. Blood had splattered on Kazuha’s face, a stark contrast with his pale skin.

You had fallen to your knees in shock. Kazuha had gently lifted you up in his strong arms and carried you back to your camp for the night. You had silently cried the whole walk back.

Now you had exited the tent and made your way over to the two wooden poles that were laid by the fire. You had taken a seat without saying anything.

After a while Kazuha broke the silence. “He had it coming you know. I could hear the commotion and smell his evil intent. I had to slay him. It was the only way. A beast like that cannot go around and taint the innocent. It would be an insult to the nature.”

His eyes met yours. “I cherish you more than anything and my love is deeper than what anyone could even hope to understand” his soft lips pulled up into a smile revealing the dimples that you loved so very much.

You cast your gaze down towards the ground. You could feel the samurai’s intense gaze. The wind rustled in the tree crowns, causing leafs to fall down. A half wilted leaf landed in your hair. Before you had the chance to remove it yourself, a carful hand removed it. When did he move to this side of the fire?

He lifted his hand closer to his face and studied the leaf. “So fragile…” his voice a soft whisper. You had a feeling he wasn’t talking about the leaf.

“It pains me to sense the smell of fear from you. It makes me want to store you away from all evil…” his eyes soft. He muttered to himself “Maybe I should do just that.”

You moved away when he twirled a strand of your hair around his fingers. “Stop. You are scaring me” your voice sounding less brave than what you intended.

His expression fell before he smiled. “My apologies my love. It is easy to forget how fragile you are” he tilted his head.

He studied your face in search of something. After awhile he brow the silence. “We need to get moving. The sooner the better. I would like to avoid traversing in the summer heat.”

“Where are we going?” your question stilled his movements. He looked at you with a blank face as thoughts raced his mind.

He swallowed, causing his Adam’s apple to bob up and down. “We are going to a village I am sure you would love. It’s rather different from the city you grew up in, but it’s charm is unique” his beautiful smile had returned.

You nodded slightly. “I see…” you looked away from the white haired swordsman and down into the grown.

“What are we going to do in the… village?” you asked with a meek voice.

The young man hummed. “We are going to get married” you didn’t need to look at him to know he was smiling.

Your fingers dug into you clothing as your mind raced. You knew there was no escaping him. You had tried. Many times, and it always ended the same. He killed everyone you had interacted with in your journey towards what you had hoped was freedom. Despite his gentle and seemingly kind nature, he had never felt any guilt for what he was doing.

In other words, escape was futile.

You turned your gaze up to met his awaiting crimson pools. You could see your reflection in them. Your eyes were wide with terror and your brows furrowed upwards in a frown.

“You’re going to love the ring I have picked out” his gentle voice as lulling as the sirens from the fairytales you heard when you were little.

[vintagehellfire]

Danse Macabre | E.M x Reader

summary: Your best friend invites you to a concert that you're less than keen on but you get much more devil worship than you bargained for.

warnings: porn without plot, plot? What plot?, choking, nipple play, blood play, bruising, oral (m receiving), sacrilege, bdsm, dom sub dynamics, just really stupid horny honestly. Eyefucking, teasing, edging???? Spit kink, mask kink, devil worship. This is just pure filth honestly, piv, unprotected sex (don’t do this with strangers ya’ll pls I’m begging) mdni 18+

word count: 8.6k

Thank you to @the-unforgivenn for beta reading this pure filth for me and for correcting my atrocious keystroke mistakes. I love you so much babe.

part two

How you got dragged to some sort of musical satanic ritual by your best friend Lilly was far beyond you. The heavy instrumentals contrasted too harshly with the light and theatrical vocals. If looks could kill, Lilly would be dead. This wasn’t your scene, it never would be, it’s what you told yourself. Sipping your gin, arms crossed, you scrunch your face, the bartender having been too busy staring at your chest while he poured your drink, resulting in a rather disgusting concoction. As if the night couldn’t get any worse. 

One of the lighter intro songs came to an end before the pyrotechnics roared to life next to you, one of the guitarists emerged from behind the waft of smoke. It was then that your breath caught in your throat, the way that he played had you hypnotised, placing you in a trance so deep that you couldn’t tear your eyes from him even if you wanted to, veins protruding. Your eyes trailed over his body, tight jeans fitting to his body and a uniform dress shirt adorning his torso, long sleeves and turtleneck underneath, hiding any soft skin. As you would be met with a face, you were surprised to find that you were met with a helmet of sorts, breathing tubes and other such accessories adorning it, as well as sticking out the top. His eyes burned red like embers behind the wide goggles, a darkness swallowing the man behind the mask and drawing you in. Curiosity got the better of you, you watched closely  when he stomped to the beat of the songs. he fans collectively let out a wave of screams, throwing flowers on stage. You rolled your eyes so hard they probably should have rolled out of your head. Were you attracted to the masked musician? In some capacity sure, but wholly? No. They just… they knew how to play well and those hands… you could admit those hands were something. You shook your head to rid yourself of impure thoughts, it wasn’t like you liked the music anyway. 

Your face was stone cold and your arms were crossed over your chest unhappily, cleavage pushed up, and the leather of your jacket creaking. That was the thing about you, you’d rather die than remove your prized biker jacket. It was your battle armour, much like the guitarists get up seemed to be the band’s uniform. To them, it protected their identity, and it protected you – you wouldn’t be caught off guard, you wouldn’t be vulnerable, you couldn’t. Your icy stare pierced through the smoke, through the flames, as you focused your gaze on the guitarist in front of you. His white guitar distinguished  him from everyone else just as your expression did you –perfectly sour.

The crowd behind you chanted along to the songs, screaming about Lucifer and the congregation and whatever other shit you chose to ignore in favour of your best friend. Lilly was one of them, jumping up and down, chanting every word of the hymns the lead singer belted out to the tune of the strong bass line and the chugging of guitars. As much as you wanted her to have fun, you rolled your eyes, this wasn’t your scene. Every song that started out heavy led to a disappointment with the vocals or the rock opera and so you just opted to be the designated party pooper and give your best glare towards the lead guitarist who seemed all too interested in your corner of the stage. He wailed on his guitar harder than you’d seen anyone wail on one before, a flash of worry briefly crossing your mind but you quickly pushed it down. 

The masked man played through his songs flawlessly, fingers moving expertly across the fretboard, mind and body completely in tandem; however your pout, your knit eyebrows, and crossed arms caught his eye, he’d stare back at you through his tinted goggles, smiling softly to himself at how adorable you looked when you were so grumpy. He could tell this wasn’t your scene and so during the slow and long intro to a song he walked over to the very front, standing just a few feet above you.  He tilted his head to the side, his mask listing as he stared, playing the intro as his eyes never left yours. 

The small movement caught your attention, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as you felt like the glowing embers behind the goggles were burning into your very soul, dissecting every little secret. He slowly points to himself before he gets his queue to jump into his next riffs, stomping away as he pushed through the heavy chords that thundered through the concert hall. You dared not admit it to yourself, but something inside you snapped, a warmth starting to spread between your legs. No, no you couldn’t possibly be attracted to this, right? But just as that thought entered your mind, it shot out of your head and straight to your heart when you saw the man before you strut over to his bandmate. The two bent over backwards together, the taller of the two supporting the back of the man with the white guitar. A cute moment, or so you thought, but as soon as the shorter was up for his solo, the taller wrapped an arm around him and pawed at his cock, tugging him into his muscled body, catching the one you had your eye on off guard. He rocked his hips into the other and rested his masked head on the shorter shoulder, fake panting. He did not falter however, and that had your brain reeling. 

With a small smack on the ass, the taller let him go, strutting away as the crowd erupted in ear shattering screeches, and if what had just transpired wasn’t one of the hottest things you’d seen, you would have absolutely rolled your eyes, but instead it had you shifting in your place, all too keenly aware of the small flare of heat that lapped at you and the proximity of the other bodies surrounding you. You suddenly felt small, trapped; and you wanted nothing more than to run out and dunk your head under some ice cold water. What was wrong with you? Your eyes darted from side to side, hoping your best friend Lilly wouldn’t notice. 

What went on next was just about to make anyone lose their minds, the lead guitarist started to throw guitar picks into the crowd, plucking one last one from his guitar and marching over to directly in front of you. The song they played next was clearly well known but it was only vaguely familiar to you, it was one you would listen to ironically while doing the dishes, one that you didn’t care much for, but was catchy nonetheless. What you didn’t realise was just how suggestive the lyrics were – and so when the man with the white guitar stood in front of you, spreading his legs to put himself in a more comfortable playing stance you thought nothing about it but his next motions had your panties soaking themselves in your slick. A long and crooked finger pointed to himself quickly, then he went back to wailing on his precious guitar just before giving himself a window of about a second to stop, his ring and middle finger very rapidly turned upwards, flicking rapidly as if motioning fingering you, his goggles deadlocked on your eyes. You could tell he was watching you for a reaction, and how you knew you wouldn’t be able to tell. Christ, maybe you should have listened to Lilly when she was telling you this band was horny. Truthfully, you had shrugged it off, what, some singer in a pope mask acting all horny? That didn’t exactly get your rocks off, but the moment you laid eyes on the masked men playing their instruments, all rational thought flew out the window. 

Little did you know that the guitarist did have his eyes set on you, all queues already learned, his body moving on auto pilot, his performance was deliberately exaggerated just for you, his motions tailored to get you hot and bothered. He knew he played the best role, and as the show went on, with the lack of water, and the horrid head, he knew his veins were pronouncing themselves even more, fingers sliding around, fingering the fretboard with an expert speed. Every nook, cranny, and metal notch memorised by the calluses on the pads of his fingers, like an old lover he’d always know how to please. He would pride himself on it, on his accuracy, and he was thankful, oh so thankful, that his death metal band had allowed him the dexterity to pull something such as this off. 

Your eyes couldn’t tear themselves away from his figure, stalking his every move like a predator with their prey, A game of cat and mouse you both played with each other from the stage and the crowd. At this point, all shame was thrown out the window and you were openly eye fucking him, blood boiling in your veins and mouth starting to run a little dry. 

The final nail in the coffin was during their heaviest song during the show, a calm moment before the storm, before the stadium exploded in a downpour of black and white paper confetti. Your eyes fixated on the man before you as the song slows to a steady chug, breathy whispers sung into the microphones. It made your head spin as you were trying to compose yourself, breath hitching as the object of your lustful affection met your gaze. His black inky goggles bored you as he brought a shaky hand up, his other hand chugging the low E of his guitar. You were transfixed by the man, unable to peel your eyes from him as he slowly and seductively licked his hand, tongue expertly flicking between his fingers, his shaky breaths becoming ragged and exaggerated. Pressing his hand to his chest, he threw his head back in a moan, sliding his elegant fingers down the front of his uniform until it was level with his guitar, and exactly in time with his strumming, he fisted his hand and with a teasing motion he tugged at the air. Your mouth ran completely dry as you registered that he was feigning masturbation in front of thousands of people. He had you caught in a trance, hypnotised by his agonising motions, his eyes seemingly staring into your very soul, picking apart every last bit of you - he saw the scars inside and your desires all rolled into one. As his actions picked up, one hand still busy on his guitar, you let out a choked breath, transfixed by the man, ghoul, whatever he was, before you. He commanded all your attention, causing your mouth to run completely dry but it couldn’t have prepared you for his “release”--  letting go the moment the confetti cannon exploded. Your jaw slacked, a strangled moan flying from your mouth as you clenched your thighs together, mouth slightly agape. 

The guitarist knew he had you in a chokehold at that very moment, smirking from underneath his coverings. Flawlessly he jumped back into the song and turned away from you, the game of cat and mouse had become too much, too real. It had only taken him an hour and a half to break you down, but once he did he felt a satisfaction he couldn’t explain, and of course he would try to hide it as he continued to strut across the stage as if he owned it. The reality was that he didn’t want to give away just the way this little game had affected him as well, an undeniable strain in his lower half. If his bandmates had noticed, they had clearly made it their mission to torture him, the rhythm guitarist getting on his knees in front of him during a solo, fucking into his own guitar as he pressed his head to the lead guitarists thigh. It wasn’t until the lead placed a boot on his shoulder to push away from him that the one on his knees relented, the crowd exploding in a rain of screams, and yet all you heard was the rush of blood in your ears. You resigned, the game had been won.

As you tried to catch your breath, you looked over to Lilly, thanking Satan that she hadn’t noticed your turmoil. The rest of the show had you holding your breath, knowing that the masked musician had made it his mission to play games with you.  the show ended, you were relieved, you might have a moment yet to go home and get yourself off, forgetting the whole of the events that transpired. 

“Come on, let’s get out of here and to the merch table before it gets too crowded!” Lilly cheered, sticking her handout for you to take, but as soon as she looked over your face her eyes drained of excitement. “Oh, are you okay? You look a little pale,” she noted, tilting her head to the side. 

“Y-yeah, I,” You cleared your throat, “I’m fine, just feeling a little warm. I think I might head home but you go grab some merch. I’ll text you,” you lied cooly. You didn’t want her to know the profound effect that the lead guitarist had on you. With a nod she gave your shoulder a squeeze and darted off. 

You could finally breathe, the suffocation that gripped at your throat just moments earlier had slightly dissipated. As dirty as your thoughts were at the moment, it was in your best interest to get moving, and so, as if on autopilot, you let your feet carry you as far from the stage as possible. You slipped past the crowd, weaving in and around groups of friends, teenagers reeling about the show, displeased parents. You wanted to beeline it out of there before anyone noticed you but unfortunately your plan was short lived as you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist and tug you behind a closed door. 

Your brain ran at a mile a minute, trying to figure out whether it was cause for alarm, but as your back collided with the wall behind you, you were met with the masked ghoul from the stage pressing his knee between your legs, pinning you in place. All colour drained from your face as your breathing laboured. There wasn’t any fear in your body, not any longer, and if there had been any,it had been replaced with undeniable arousal, heat being sent straight to your core. It took all your willpower not to grind into his thigh.

“Hey, sweetheart.” The husky voice purred, a small accent peaking through. He smelled intoxicating, like amber and cigarettes, a tinge of iron poking through in the softest of undertones. It drove you crazy, mind spinning, dizzy with want. He cocks his head to the side, his nautical mask tilting, the black goggles seemingly bottomless, swallowing his eyes. The musician’s expression is completely unreadable and if you knew any better you’d say it was like a predator who had caught his prey. Your mistake was thinking the little game you both played was over, yet now it seems like it had just begun. The man leans into you, invading your space completely, his covered mouth coming up beside your ear. “Oh you thought our little game was over, didn’t you?” He pulls back, allowing your caged body some space. “Don’t think I didn’t see you, little one.” His sweet voice purrs, setting you over the edge, hips finally pushing into his leg as your head tilts back, smacking softly into the wall.

“Fuck…” The syllable leaves your mouth as a groan before you can do anything about it. Surely you were dreaming this, but when you opened your eyes, you were met with the same mask, the same expression that stared at you from the stage. 

“If that’s what you want, sweetheart, I’ll have to bring you to the green room. We’ll paint it red in sin .” You swore you could hear him wink from behind his coverings but you didn’t care, satan, you didn’t care as long as you could have him. You’d worship him in uniform, all sweat slicked and bloody if you had to. In this moment you had a one track mind and you’d be damned if you didn’t act on your desires… but maybe having these desires meant that you were already damned. “What, not as bold anymore? Devil got your tongue?” He mused. 

“Are you going to run your mouth or are you going to fuck me?” You spit out at him, a feigned venom behind your words, but they were too lust drenched to be taken harshly. In an instant his body was against yours, thigh pressing into your cunt, slowly rubbing back and forth.

“Earn it.” He growled out, face burying itself into the crook of your neck to pepper both kisses and love bites across your jugular. Your body caught fire, desperate to be taken by the mysterious man then and there. You hadn’t seen his face and you were mildly worried that seeing it would ruin the illusion. Would you even find him attractive under all his coverings? You didn’t have time to think about it before his hands came to the meat of your ass, tugging you against him with a burning desire, fire coursing through his veins. The strangled moan that ripped from your throat was one you weren’t expecting, but did it ever feel right, his strained cock digging into your hips as he pushed your body closer to his. You could tell he was well endowed even through the fabric of his trousers, a heat creeping up your neck at this realisation. 

“Don’t tease.” You spat, hands coming up to grip his slightly torn jacket, his arm coverings hiding any identifiers. You were going off of nothing aside from the little fire element pin that was securely pinned to the lapel of his uniform. Your hands found themselves tugging him forward, daring him to kiss you. 

“Don’t be a brat.” The stranger growled, swiftly lowering the cloth covering his mouth before assaulting your lips with his. It was all teeth and tongues, pure lust taking over every one of your senses, and it seemed to be true for him as well. You kissed back furiously, nipping at his bottom lip, eliciting a gasp from him that would turn into a groan as you rolled your hips against his, begging for some relief. “Easy, pet.” He muttered against the plushness of your mouth, a small tender moment slipping through the cracks. As much as you enjoy rough, there was a certain swell that filled your heart in knowing that he wouldn’t push too far. 

Your escapades were all tongue, teeth, and lips, strangled moans, and tugging at each other’s clothes until you both reached the green room wherethe band was supposed to be, however, your mystery man had ensured to clear it before he went out to find you. The only time either one of you broke from one another was for air or to push the door closed, locking it in the process. Both of you were too impatient, a carnal desire for one another pooling into your veins, fire spreading through you both and kindling in that very low spot in your abdomens.

“If you need me to stop, the safe word is Beelzebub.” The man’s husky voice cut through the groans, tugging your hips forward into his by the belt loops. He gave you a moment to process what he had said, but instead you grabbed onto his mask and tugged his head forward, lapping at his bottom lip in order to gain access to his mouth. As soon as he parted his lips, you were welcomed by his tongue dancing in tandem with yours. He tasted of wintergreen and cigarette smoke, a combination so sinful, so depraved that you should have been turned off, instead it flooded you with desire. 

“Need you.” You panted out between kisses, the man unrelenting his assault on your mouth. You were utterly soaked through, and you were certain that the musician could smell you but you didn’t care, not right now anyway. You should have been embarrassed by being taken like this but it just turned you on even more knowing that maybe you would get to live out your newly discovered kink instead of trying to soothe — or smother — the flames by yourself. 

“Do you need me?” The man mused. “Mmm, prove it to me, my little devil.” His hand crept from your waist down to your hips, and from your hips down to between your legs, agonizingly circling your cunt, thumb pressing into the seam of your jeans in the exact spot your clit would be in. “Show me how needy you are for me… Go on…” His husky voice teased. When you didn’t react he spun you so your back would be to him, a strong arm holding you against his body while the other busied himself with teasing you. His breath was by your ear now, and his cock pressed into your ass. He was so worked up that he began to rut his hips forward, moaning at the friction. His moan elicited a reaction in you, causing you to throw your head back onto his shoulder, mouth falling open. The tassels on his overcoat swayed with each rut of his hips, tickling the side of your face. You couldn’t imagine he wasn’t warm in his get up but you were too occupied to do anything about it. 

“Please, fuck, I need you.” You choked out, eyes screwed shut as he teased. You felt him lick a stripe up your neck before nipping just underneath your ear as a small warning before latching his lips to the sensitive spot, sucking a dark bruise into your skin. The sickening combination of his lips on your neck, his hard on rubbing against your ass, and his fingers teasing your clothed cunt was becoming too much, driving your senses crazy. A low growl emanated from deep within his chest, reverberating across your back from the proximity.

“Then get down on your knees….” He spins you around, voice low and husky as he shoves you down, a mix of fear and burning desire settling in the deepest pits of your stomach. Your knees hit the ground with a thud and you’d be sure to bruise later, but that was a small price to pay. You watched him undo his belt and pull his zipper down before bringing his hand back up to his face, licking it slowly like he had during the show. You knew what was coming but what you didn’t expect was him to give you one last order as he spidered his fingers down the ruffled fabric of his shirt. “And pray.” An animalistic snarl came from beyond the mask as his fingers trailed into his boxers this time. The man tugged his cock out and began to stroke himself, chest heaving, his breathing became laboured. 

“Oh, god.” You uttered, but the musician didn’t seem to like that. He let go of his cock, allowing it to bounce against his stomach, a stark contrast with his black attire. It looked delicious with the little opalescent bead of precum nestled on the very tip. 

“No, my pet,” he purred, his thumb coming to your lips, slipping past them and into your mouth. It tasted of brass and sweat yet you opted to hollow your cheeks around it anyway, “you answer to our savior, satanus here. You are no longer in the house of god.” There was a cruelty behind his voice, corruption on his tongue. You would have thought the theatrics would have instantly had you shoving him away, but instead it left you craving the masked man, mouth salivating at the thought of him completely ruining you. 

Without much warning, he tapped his cock on your lips, his precum smudging across your lips, and satanus, was it going to be his death. Your dark smudge of red lipstick would become ruins in the wake, the thought of a red ring around his member had his brain short circuiting, if you didn’t take him in your mouth soon he was going to lose it. Luckily you complied, opening wide to accommodate his size, letting your tongue lap at his tip as he slid in. He started slowly, almost carefully in order not to hurt you but soon enough you pushed his cock to the back of your throat, eliciting a strangled moan from him. His hands flew to your hair, desperate to hold onto something, anything, and he tugged you forward, pulling a moan from the very back of your throat. You pulled back, saliva building up in your mouth mixing with the salty taste of his seed.It wasn’t something you expected to like but you found yourself chasing it, craving more. 

Your head bobbed over his length, your moans muffled as you tried to take him deeper, his tip brushing the back of your throat. His delicate resolve broke then and there, slamming into you at a frantic pace. He chased his high, immense pleasure searing through his veins as he fucked into your mouth like an animal, all sense of self control was gone. You looked up at him through your eyelashes, giving him the most innocent look you could muster as you flicked your tongue over his tip, lapping at his slit. Agonisingly you pulled back, employing the aid of your hand around his length, taking only part of him in your mouth. You jacked him off as you hollowed your cheeks around his tip, tongue expertly flicking over his frenulum and eliciting the most pornographic moan from him.

“Satanus, save me.” The man hissed from above you, pulling on your hair to draw you closer. He was losing control, babbling about how pretty you looked on your knees for him. “You are so exquisitely sinful, my pet.” His chest heaved with every breath he took, fingers tangling themselves further into your head of hair, fingernails practically at your scalp. 

You take the praise and you run with it, taking it as a signal to keep going, and this time you move your free hand up his leg, rubbing over his thigh as a tease, a preamble to what you were going to do next. You took his groan as a confirmation to continue, his breaths coaxing you to keep going. You slid your hand up, opting to rub his thigh teasingly, savouring the feeling of the looser material under your fingertips, toying with it before you continued your journey up. While your mouth and right hand busied themselves with his thick cock, your left hand came up to fondle his heavy balls. Who knew that praying to a false idol could be so pleasurable. 

“Oh, oh, f-fuck.” The taller threw his head back, voice gruff and fucked out, clearly enjoying this more than he should have been. He was rapidly losing any grip on the situation and he needed to extract himself from it unless he wanted to spill into your mouth. It was his nightmare, his most sinful fantasy, having you like this after the show – a stranger, a person in the crowd. The amount of people that would absolutely kill to be in your position and it was likely that you weren’t appreciating it as you should have been. The man keened before tugging you back harshly, his hips stuttering at the sudden loss of contact from your mouth. “If you keep going like that, I’m going to cum down your throat, sweetheart.” There was a certain level of concern laced into his tone, one that you glossed over through your lust. 

“Holy shit…” You breathe out, pupils completely blown, the colours of your irises practically disappearing due to how clouded your mind was with him, only him, nothing but him, and how divine his cock was. At your words, something inside him snaps and he grabs your throat, pulling you up. You could feel yourself growing more aroused by the minute. How he had guessed that you’d be into choking was beyond you, but fuck was this doing things to you that you hadn’t even thought possible. 

“There is nothing Holy here.” He growled out, a darkness overtaking his voice. His words sent a cold shiver down your spine, one that found itself shooting down towards your core, causing you to press to him. The ember glow from behind his goggles scanned over your face, flickering, igniting a fire in the bits of your belly. “Here we succumb to our lust.” He breathes before letting your neck go only to bring his hand down to your chest and massage your breast, pinching gently through the fabric of your tank top. In an instant, his mouth attacked your neck savagely, teeth nipping at the thin skin, tongue flicking over the bites to soothe them. You tilt your head back to accommodate him, your breathy moans coming up right beside his ear as you rut into him. You’re desperate to be fucked at this point, needing him more than you need to breathe. 

He pierced your skin with his canines, an animalistic desire for you taking over him. He could no longer think, all consumed by his desires. You felt his lips trail down, soft as a butterfly’s wings, stopping at your jugular vein before he bit down, causing you to let out a yelp. Your cry of pain turned into a pornographic moan as he sucked and lapped at your salty skin, a small sheen of sweat starting to gloss over you as you burned up. If this was what being in hell was like, you’d have a hard time coming up with reasons to wind up in heaven. Your torture didn’t end there; however, as he snaked his free hand up to your cheek, holding you in place tenderly as he continued his assault on your neck. He made it his mission to mark you up as his but you were too far gone to care. 

“Oh Christ.” You moaned as he lapped at the bite marks he left, but he didn’t seem to like this. Not that you could see this much, but his eyes turned dark as he trailed his lips farther down, burying his face in the crook of your neck before he bit down hard enough to draw blood. Your pain was immediately covered in a strangled cry of pure ecstasy as he tugged you towards him, his hand on your breast moving to your hip, surely bruising it, fingerprint embedded in the skin of your hip bone. 

The taste of iron filled the musician’s mouth, his hard on reacting to your metallic taste, pressing into your hip involuntarily. He couldn’t get enough of you - the intoxicating smell of amber and palo santo mixed with the salt from sweat, and the citrus of the gin… He wanted to ruin you once and for all. 

“No, my pet, you are not in the house of God. Only the devil resides here. Will I need to have you pray to me again?” The growl that ripped from his throat has you soaking your lace panties, a choked sob escaping from your parted lips. As he took you in, he noted that you already looked completely fucked out, the bruising on your neck blooming like deep red roses, a symbol of both love and devotion. The only thing you could do was shake your head in answer to him. “Mmm,” the stranger hummed, “your body and blood are mine, sweetheart.” He teased you. As your chest heaved, you examined him, traces of your blood down his chin, and some smeared across his mask, his lips were swollen from the harsh and animalistic kisses he was giving you, and satanus were you ever attracted to him in this moment. 

“Please… Can I see you?” You plead, your hands coming to his waist, trailing down slowly, your right hand making contact with his cock. The soft cant of his hips encouraged you to grip it gently, stroking him languidly as you await his answer. “Please…” You repeated, eyes desperately boring into the void behind his goggles. 

“Oh, is my little pet desperate to see me?” He cooed out, his fingers skillfully finding your belt, undoing it at a painfully slow pace. It was your turn to buck your hips into him, rolling them into his touch. “Mmm, such a little slut, can’t wait until I get my hands on you, can you?” He teased. 

“Satanus, yes, please! Wanna see you.” You groaned, breath catching as he slowly teased you through your jeans. “Need you, need- need- ah!” You cried, throwing your head back once again, eyes fluttering shut from absolute pleasure. It’s then that the man opted to unzip your fly, pausing his animalistic activities to gently tug your jeans over your hips. You weren’t having any of this slow and sweet shit; however, and kicked them off as soon as you got the chance to, allowing him easier access to your sopping cunt. The smell hit him immediately and he moaned, head falling against your forehead, his breathing ragged and strained. His cock reacted, bouncing in your hand and you continued your teasing. 

“Then beg me for it, pet. I don’t think you’ve earned the opportunity to unmask me just yet.” His resolve crumbled with every soft touch, every stroke. He pushed into your hand and you took that as a sign to speed your motions before you pushed him back. Confusion was written across his features, that was until you let a healthy glob of spit hit his angry cock. “Oh mother fuck.” The man hissed out, crashing his bloodied lips into your own, allowing the metallic taste of your own blood to permeate your tongue. You reciprocated, tongue swiping across his bottom lip, begging for entrance. He parted his lips, granting you access, as he swiftly moved your panties to the side, his thick fingers slipping between your weeping folds. It took everything in him to not take you then and there, your pussy sucking his fingers in, tight and wet. 

“Please, please, I need to see you.” You sobbed out between kisses, but it was clear that it wasn’t enough. The musician growled at your words, dipping his index into your slick and using it as a lubricant to tease your clit with, it took him a moment but he found the bundle of nerves. The instanthis calloused finger landed on your clit, your vision exploded into stars, mouth practically running on its own, incoherent pleas and various iterations of “more” tumbling from your swollen lips. You were finally giving him something to work with, the pleas, the praises. He continued working your cunt, curling his fingers into the sweet spot deep inside you, warm walls squeezing against him. 

“Oh, darling. I’ll give you whatever your sinful heart desires.” He nipped at your bottom lip, splitting it with his canines before he pulled back, panting as he tried to catch his breath, however he refused to remove his hand from your cunt, slowing his movements only a fraction so that he could catch his bearings. “Are you sure?” He asked you, a worry laced in his voice. You nodded fervently, a saccharine look in your eyes peeking through beyond the undeniable lust. Whether you understood he was anxious about what you would think of him or not wasn’t apparent but regardless, you wanted to know who the man you were bound to fuck was. 

With a swift move he tugged the mask off, tossing it to the couch behind him and removing his balaclava. What you hadn’t expected was the sight to take your breath away completely. His hair tumbled out of the bun he had it tucked into, and the messy curls cascaded down his shoulders, doe eyes framed by the prettiest eyelashes you’d ever seen, and his swollen lips? God you couldn’t even think anymore. You immediately kissed them, nipping at his lips, taking his bottom lip into your mouth and sucking, tearing a moan from him, his lust filled eyes expanding even farther as you continued your assault on his lips. You bit down harder this time, cracking his lip. This time the metallic taste belonged to him and you couldn’t help but moan at his taste. You needed more. 

“Please, I- I need you…” You panted, eyeing the man with carnal desire. 

“Eddie, my name is Eddie.” And with that final confession he grabbed you by the hip and dragged you back to the roomiest surface he could find. It was all teeth, tongue, and the metallic taste of each other’s blood. Your hand on his cock and his fingers still working you open, movements becoming more erratic as he practically drilled into you with his fingers, setting an unrelenting pace that he seemed eager to keep up. Your knees hit the back of a couch, and his arm immediately shot to the small of your back, gently lowering you, a contrast to how he was abusing your needy body. Your hands moved to his hair in preparation for what was to come, yanking at his soft locks, releasing a deep moan from low in his chest. His hair was silky underneath your fingertips, few tangles in the way or your mission. 

“Eddie, please.” You whined, flush with desire, unable to think of what you wanted anymore than wanting him. A smirk adorned his lips and he sank his knees onto the soft cushion, knees bracketing your hips perfectly, his hands coming up to frame your face, curls ticking your cheekbones as he did so. 

“Open up, sweetheart.” He cooed. Instinctively you parted your lips for him only to feel a glob of his spit fly into your mouth. “Now swallow like the good devil worshipping slut you are.” You obeyed without question, swallowing down his spit with a pornographic moan. As you did, he took a moment to line himself up for you. “God, you look so beautiful, blasphemous doesn’t even begin to cover it, pet.” He praised as he rubs his dick against your soaked entrance, your hips rocking into him, threatening to suck him in. He hissed but slid his hand down your body, tracing your figure with his fingers, teasing in the most tantalising way, once he reaches your ass, he gives it a harsh slap at which you gasp out, choking on your breath, the sting of his hand making contact with your ass radiating a heat you hadn’t thought possible. You hadn’t expected it in the least but it was welcome nonetheless. “Behave.” He growled out, a darkness seeping into the word.

“P-Please, Eds… I need - I can’t, please.” You babbled, words completely incoherent. You weren’t even sure what you were begging for at this point. His cock? His fingers? Were you asking to be fucked stupid? In all your incoherent ramblings and begging Eddie caught one thing that made his brain fuzzy around the edges. “Corrupt me satanus, corrupt me, please.” Playing into the whole devil worship aspect had him gone, his hips violently snapping into yours, completely disregarding that you might need to adjust to the stretch. Part of him felt bad, but your immediate response was to wrap your legs around his waist, crying his name out as tears brimmed your eyes, mascara beginning to run down your cheeks. To Eddie, you looked absolutely perfect. He leaned in and peppered kisses across your face to wipe away the tears that trickled down. 

“S’this what you want, my little pet? You want me to ruin you?” His husky voice was in your ear as he dipped his head lower, his hips rolling into yours slowly. He moved masterfully for someone so scrawny, cock buried to the hilt as he rocked into you. Your mouth fell slack, tightening your legs around his waist and tugging him into you. “Come on, answer me, sweetheart.” He coaxed, pulling out of you slowly before snapping his hips into yours. The pleasure and pain mixed together in a teasing dance, keeping you on the edge and overwhelming your senses all the same. You couldn’t verbally answer and so you turned your head, tucking your face into his neck and kissing up to his ear. About halfway up you landed on a sensitive spot, causing a moan to tumble from his lips, a shiver running down your spine. You latched on like a vampire, sucking over the spot, lapping over it with your tongue to soothe any violent bites you inflicted upon him. In turn he bit into your shoulder, trying to ground himself in reality instead of losing himself to carnal pleasure, the coil in his abdomen tightening evermore. His plan had gone to shit the moment you continued to nibble on his neck, your hands tugging harder at his lock, pulling him further into you. With a slight upward tilt of your hips, Eddie hit a new angle when he snapped his hips into yours, ploughing deeper into you. The both of you moaned in unison before he released a strangled whimper. It was your turn to break skin, your mouth filled with the crimson substance that sustained Eddie’s life. Releasing your lips from the wound, you kissed over his neck and to his shoulder, smearing the fluid across his upper half. 

His pace picked up, slamming into you, deeper and deeper, nothing but the sound of breathless lovers, bodies colliding, and the sweet ecstasy of carnal desire flooding the green room. Your hand then came to his back, scratching down it and eliciting a whine from the man above you. 

“Please, please, please.” You chanted into his neck. It was as if he understood what you meant, his hand coming down between your joined bodies to rub over the bundle of nerves, little figure eights being drawn over your clit. You were going to lose your mind, and maybe even your soul. Would selling it to the devil be so bad? It didn’t take long after that for a white heat to build, a pressure that you weren’t used to building, the coil tightening, threatening to snap like an elastic band. 

“Oh, shit, sweetheart, I’m close.” The man turned his head, kissing up your neck, over your cheek, and found your lips. His kiss was searing hot, burning with need. He chased his release with you, trying to bring you as close to the edge as he could, hoping you might be able to finish at the same time. “Don’t want to finish until you do.” The devil could be generous if he wanted to be.

“S’close.” You panted against his swollen lips, unable to give any coherent answer to him, not that you cared. If laying in sin felt this good, you’d bed the devil any day. “Please, Eds… Don’t stop.” And somehow he kept at it, the same pace, same pressure, same rough and unrelenting fuck that he had been using for the past few minutes. He knew that don’t stop also meant that he shouldn’t change a single fucking thing he was doing, and rightfully so. With a cry, you closed your eyes tight, lights dancing behind your eyelids as you came, the elastic finally snapping, and your release soaking Eddie’s stage uniform. 

“Oh- fuck!” The man squeaked, his own release following shortly after. He could have sworn he saw stars in that moment, arms shaking beneath his own weight. His body fully collapsed on top of yours, your arms wrapping around him tightly, kisses tenderly placed on his shoulder. “So perfect f’me.” He mumbled into your sticky skin, reluctantly peeling from you. His brutal and domineering demeanour melted away, replaced by a certain level of care. You could see it behind his eyes clearly. “You okay, sweetheart?” He cooed, brushing your hair from your face, a few strands sticking to your forehead. 

“Y-yeah.” You shakily breathe out, your voice hoarse from the activities that had just taken place. As you try to prop yourself up on your shoulders, you wince, a pain shooting through you. “Just sore.” You murmured, suddenly shy under the musician’s gaze. You didn’t dare look at him anymore, a twinge of shame filling your heart. 

“Hey, sweetheart, come here.” He mumbled, scooting closer, not daring to pull out just yet. He pulls you up, legs entangled with each other in a pile of limbs, unsure of where one person ended and the other began. He pressed your warm body to his, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, rubbing soothing circles over your back, his gentle voice whispering sweet nothings to you. 

“Thank you, Eddie.” You mumbled into his skin, placing a tender kiss over a forming bruise. “That was something else.” He hummed in agreement, allowing his eyes to flutter close for a second, letting himself enjoy a fleeting moment of human contact while he was on tour. While the guys were wonderful and he loved them to death, there was a certain intimacy that he missed in lovers. One that he didn’t indulge in as much these days. 

Reluctantly, he pulled out and you pulled away, debating whether to say anything to him, or whether you wanted to indulge in some more pleasantries. If you were any wiser and more observant you’d have noticed the longing in his eyes, his gaze trailing over your figure as you pushed away to gather your belongings. It was odd to say that the musician would have wanted you to stick around for some more aftercare, it would have been even stranger if he admitted to you that he just wanted you to stick around post coitus and have a drink, maybe a smoke, and get to know each other. 

“Hey, hang on, let me clean you up.” His voice softened, taking you aback. “Come on, pet, I’m not gonna leave you like this.” He gets up only to tuck himself back into his slick soaked uniform, cringing as he does so. He grabs a water bottle from the nearby table and a small cloth kept on the vanity in the far corner of the room. “Come on, just sit.” He motioned back over to the couch and watched as you hesitantly padded over. You sat down on the cleanest area you could find, squirming as you began to feel Eddie’s cum slipping out of you. 

“S’fine, you don’t have to.” You mumbled, turning away from the man. He sighed as he approached you, sinking to his knees before starting to clean your thighs. He worked his way up between your legs, cleaning the leaking spend from your cunt. He placed a few gentle kisses to the tops of your thighs, your eyes flicking over to him as he did so. That was the moment you got a good look at the man. Dark ink littered his skin, barely an inch was pure, untouched, the only areas you couldn’t see his tattoos were the areas in which you had drawn blood, the dried fluid flaking slowly. He continued cleaning you up, rubbing gentle and warm circles with the wet cloth. Part of you couldn’t help but find this incredibly thoughtful, your heart squeezing at the gestures, but the other half of you believed that you were probably just an easy lay. 

“Hush, yes I do. It’s the least I can do.” His doe eyes met yours as he looked up at you through his lashes. “I made a mess of you, darling, and I need to clean you up.” His voice was sincere, soft even, and you couldn’t help but melt. You allowed him to tend to your tired limbs, and once he got to your neck, he apologised, knowing that it would probably hurt. You couldn’t help but stare at the softness behind his eyes, the fire that burned within had fizzled out and was replaced by some unnamed emotion. As the towel made contact with your neck, you winced, earning yourself a kiss from the musician. It shocked you that even after the heat of the lustful moment he was still willing to kiss you but you accepted it, melting into his lips. They were soft, a little chapped, but inviting nonetheless. 

“Thank you.” You whispered against them, afraid your voice would give out if you spoke any louder. Your hand came up to his face, brushing your thumb over his sharp cheekbone before placing your forehead against his. “You’re sweeter than I anticipated.” 

“And you’re kinkier than I anticipated.” He retorted and moved back gently, only to give himself room to fold the towel over to a clean side before cleaning up your face with a gentle hand. “Thank you for indulging me.” He cooed out to you, his sincerity going straight to your heart. You couldn’t help but nod. 

“I should go.” Your voice broke, and in that same moment, so did Eddie’s heart. There was something to you that drew him in, that he wanted more of, that he craved. It flew past just the need for human contact, part of it had to do with the way you ran with the punches he threw, you went with the game you played from the stage all the way to the back room. Eddie nodded solemnly, pushing away. 

“Yeah, uh…” He bit his lip, tossing the washcloth on the coffee table. Surely worse things had been on that surface in the past, but right now Eddie didn’t care about that, not about what was on that table, what would be in the future, or what he just threw onto it. “You don’t have to, I actually, I don’t know that I want you to. Can I at least buy you a drink?” He asked, standing up straight. You turn around, grabbing your pants so you could slip them back on over your legs. 

“You want to buy me a drink?” There’s a hopeful tinge to your voice, head shooting over to look at the musician in question. As you did, you hissed out gently, the garden of blooming roses on your neck blossoming farther across your neck, bite marks adorning your skin like dark tattoos. There was no denying what had gone on. 

“Sweetheart, I think we both left a mark on one another,” he teased, “when you pray to the devil so well, I think it’s hard for him to resist.” A twinkle in his eyes told you it was more than just the sex you both had. “Besides, it might help with the pain. What do you say?” 

“Mhmm,” you hummed as if you were deep in thought, “only if the devil can treat me right.” You mused. “You going to change first?” You waggled your eyebrows, referring to his squirt-soaked trousers, only to receive a smirk in return.  “Oh no sweetheart, I wear my battle scars with pride.” With that, he pushed back to grab his helmet, slipping it back over his head before taking your hand in his and leading you off to the bar. He wasn’t what you expected, none of it was, the show, the music, Eddie, but as you took his hand you couldn’t help the feeling brewing in your chest; the feeling that maybe the unexpected was exactly what you needed.

taglist: @munson-blurbs @the-unforgivenn @littlesubbyflower @word-wytch (if you want) @rip-quizilla @hellfire--cult @mystish

[youryanderedaddy]

tw: female reader, captivity, possessive behavior, non - consensual touching, hinted past stalking, hinted non - con, i keep making fairy tale references kfjhks My ko - fi <3

You actually feel calm now, almost at peace - although you can never be truly peaceful in the forest, you guess this is as close as it can get. You flip through the pages of the book, scanning the fireplace with the corner of your eye. It needs more wood, but it still keeps the cottage nice and warm. You tug at your big fluffy sweater - and think about just how domestic, how cozy this scene would be if you couldn't hear his footsteps creeping up behind you. You clear your throat and clutch the book closer to your stomach, trying to ignore him - hoping he'll go away if you pay him no mind. And just like the last few times, he sticks around like mud.

"Are you reading those fairytales again?" Raven calls out mockingly, the click of his tongue teasing your ear. He grasps your shoulders lightly, trying to take a peek at your book from behind the chair. You try to close it, but his hands quickly find your wrists, holding them in place. Now hyper - aware of his chest pressing against your back, you give in and let him look as his body heat spreads to your neck. "Such a pretty illustration, isn't it?" He hums to himself, a fox - like grin ruining his delicate features. When you don't respond, he just keeps going. "The knight kills the monster and rescues the princess." He reads the caption under the drawing, playing curious. "They live happily ever after." He flips the page. "The end." He mouths, averting his gaze.

You clench your fists and try to count to ten before you say something you will regret. You don't know why or how, but just one look at his face is enough to set you off nowadays. And anger is a losing battle - anger has you laying across his knees with your panties in your mouth, muffling your pained cries he likes to pretend are moans as he paints your butt red. So you shut up and bide your time.

"How sweet." The man chuckles with malice, quickly turning towards you just like a snake would curl around an unsuspecting little mouse. "I guess life really imitates art. Just like you and me." He observes with a self-satisfied smirk, reaching to light his cigarette. You hate when he smokes inside the house - the nicotine fume sticks to the walls for hours and you start choking and coughing, but he shows little concern for your heath; not that it's a huge surpirse to you.

"What do you mean?" You raise one eyebrow, hoping to at least take your mind off the nasty, overwhelming smell. If he sees your unease, he doesn't mention it, choosing to inhale even deeper, with his full chest. "You're the pretty damsel in distress." Raven explains calmly, charcoal eyes sinking into your vision like claws. It makes you feel naked, vulnerable - dissected to your very molecule. "And I am your knight." He lets his sharp teeth reflect in the dim light. "I saved you from those pesky insects who kept sulling you." You cringe at the way his tongue piercing drags against his canines. Track - track. "Aren't you glad I removed those obstactles for ya?" He gives you a crooked, sarcastic smile. "I think your hero deserves a little reward for all the trouble he went through just for you."

You blink away the tears as you are forced to remember it all in one breath. The police sirens - the investigation. The blood on your family's threshold. The used condoms hanging on your door for all neighbours to see, and the thousand messages calling you ugly names for months on end.

"You're no hero." You mumble under your breath, digging your nails deep into your palms - desperate to keep your tongue behind your teeth. But he hears you - he always does, and he just nods in agreement, coming close. Coming to take you.

Raven stands before you, hovering over you with one hand on the ashtray and the other tilting your chin up so you'd have no choice but to look at him and him alone. "Perhaps you're right." He admits, taking a puff off his long cigarette and blowing it in your face right after - simply in love with the way your eyes narrow in frustrated defiance as you wave away the thick smoke. "Perhaps I am not the hero, but the monster. The dragon." He laughs to himself, stubbing out the burning fag. You don't know what it is that he finds so funny, but you wish you knew so you could laugh along instead of crying.

He cages you in against the sofa, causing you to press even harder against the soft backrest. The message is clear - you'd let the house consume you before you let him as much as kiss you.

"It fits the story nicely, don't you think?" The man remarks, playing with a strand of your hair gleefuly just like a child would. You assume he derives some sick pleasure from touching you so casually - from caressing you, petting you, holding you. It's not even sexual, but it always shakes you to your core, and maybe for him that's the best part - where you can't go anywhere, but in his arms.

"Huh?" You break from your thoughts, growing confused. "Your analogy." He explains while still all over you. "It makes sense. I fought for you, and I won you fair and square." His eyes light up with the ferocity of a hunter. "I wanted you so I took you like the greedy bastard I am. I have no regrets - and if that makes me a villain, then so be it. I will burn the world down if it means you'd be all mine." His fist wraps around your loose locks, almost gentle, but not quite. There is something unnatural in his smile - you can't help, but imagine blood dripping from his chin. "But there is something your magic tales get wrong." Raven whispers diabolically, snapping his fingers. Everything goes dark - and his coat slips down on the floor.

"W-what?" You ask, shaking like a leaf - both afraid and deadly curious. You try to sharpen your senses, but you remain blind to his shadow - and the way it moves right between your legs, positioning them around his hips. You feel his manhood prod at your pubic bone, and you heart sinks to your stomach. "The ending." Your captor mutters, pushing you on your back, and you curse the electronic chair when it goes all the way down with little fight. "The moment when the cards are on the table..." He all but tears off the first button of your shirt. "And the princess is all alone with the monster. Face to face - with nowhere to go."

His tongue is hot on your neck - you try to push him off, but he pins down your wrists with feral force, growling like a wild beast. "And this time no one is coming to save her."

[fortheloveofkonig]

Hello, hope you're having a good day/night

I was wondering if I could request the 141 x Male reader, they know alot of medical like they use their knowledge of the human body against anyone whom threatens them (or people the care about). They aren't a medic are doctor parday but have extensive knowledge of the field that helps the team. Seem cold uncaring and ruthless but if anyone of them is injured its like a total switch of 'mom bear mode' checking them over the gentle hands and worry.

(Kinda of trope of don't mess with the doctor lol)

Summary: TF 141 reacts to Reader who knows a frightening amount of medical knowledge.

Note: I'm going to do this as more of a headcanons type of post ^^ hope this is good enough! ^^ I did 95% of this all in the last 2 hours

Content: Medical speak, Injuries, Slight Torture, Slightly Bad Medical Research, But I Did Research. Roach Talks.

Word Count: 1085

TF 141 x Knowledgeable in Medic Field M! Reader

Ghost

Probably first heard about your knowledge from Soap talking to him about how terrifying it is to see it come into play

Doesn't believe him.

You've always been good at what you do but have never shown any previous knowledge or interest in the medical field so, who can blame him?

There was also no way you could've went to medical school unless you were years above your usual education range

He finally sees it come into play when you two were 'interrogating' someone.

"If you're gonna stab, don't do it right there. Price said he needs to stay alive."

Ghost looks at you, annoyed. "I've stabbed many people and seen many people survive stab wounds of surrounding areas."

"In lower places of the abdomen and with quicker medical care, if you do it there" You point to where he had the knife, pointed at the tied up man's skin. "It could puncture an intestine and we will be fucked. If you want to stab, move the knife below the belly button...about right... right there. Do not remove the knife once it pierces through."

He did as you said, with questions, but still followed your lead.

From then on he watched everything you did, even noticing that you took care of some of the rookies that ended up with minor cuts and damage that wasn't enough to bother the medics with.

Needless to say, he also ended up coming to you for some patch ups, mostly when he wanted to keep his new damage a secret from Price.

He ended up finding it kind of hot during the interrogation thing so he often asked to do things like that with you again.

Soap

Honestly, probably figured out about your medical knowledge after he was being a dumbass with explosives and almost got hurt.

"Go change into some shorts and a tank top." Your voice was in a serious tone as you went to grab a nearby first aid kit.

"Already wanting to see me strip?"

You just glared at him until he actually left and did what was told.

Despite having only a few scratches, you still cleaned them up as best as you could.

You also went on a rant about it too, about how dumb he was

"Do you realize how dumb you are? What if you actually made a big explosion and a piece of shrapnel flew and hit one of the carotid arteries in your neck?

"My What?"

"Do you realize how fast you would've died? Why weren't you wearing any protective gear?"

"I'm pretty bad at forgetting protection."

If looks could kill, he'd be dead.

That was not the last time you had to clean his wounds, he seems to be a magnet for them.

Asks you more about medical stuff, just to get an idea on how much you know.

You know a lot.

Unsure at this point if he hurts himself in new ways just to hear you yell at him for what dumb way he could've gotten himself killed this time.

Gaz

He falls out of helicopters a lot, that's the truth. What's one more time?

This time (and somehow not the last?) he ended up hurting his foot, you were there the whole time when it happened.

When the both of you were both safe in the safety of a van, you got him to put his leg up so you could check it.

"This is stupid" He mutters, "It's nothing more than it has been in the past."

"Shush, let me concentrate" You mutter feeling around his bootless ankle, nodding your head when you hear him hiss at a pointed touch.

"Any pain when you walk on it?"

"Possibly....yes."

"I'm gonna say it's a sprain for now but I think we should take you to the infirmary after we get back to base. Doesn't seem dislocated. Possible fracture though."

It was just a sprain

Was surprised when you spoke fluent...doctor to the doctor.

Honestly felt like a little kid in the doctor's office, watching his parent's converse with the Doctor telling them what was wrong.

Wouldn't have it any other way.

Price

Always knew, almost nothing gets by him unnoticed

Was probably one of the reasons he wanted you on the task force.

He knows how soap and gaz the boys are

Has you teaching rookies how to probably put a tourniquet on.

"What the fuck are you doing? That's not how I taught you."

The rookie you were speaking to just looked down at the dummy that they were working on and the tourniquet, "It looks-"

"Terrible! He's still bleeding out! Retry it."

Definitely has to sit in on these sessions, some rookies have complained to him that you take it too far.

You always just use the excuse that if those were real people and not training dummies, they'd be at fault for letting them die.

He agrees with you.

The rookie looks over at Price.

"Get to it. He told you to retry it. The man is bleeding out."

Mostly just sits in because it's less complaints now that he is showing he agrees with you in front of everyone.

Roach

This fucker needs a friend that has medical knowledge

Much like Soap, it seems like he is a wound magnet

Was probably the first of the 141 that you had to go full protective, medical knowledge out and work on him.

Man's like a tank too, no matter what the day brings to him it seems he's just able to walk it off

You don't let him

"You're limping, sit down."

He just waves it off, "'m good."

"Like hell you are." You walk up to him and grab his wrist, dragging him to a nearby chair and pushing him onto it. "Stay or I'll have Ghost lay on you."

Does not stay.

You cannot get Ghost to lay on him.

You just end up pelting pillows at him until he joins into a pillow fight, and you both end up getting exhausted.

"I'll rest right here."

"Good."

Stubborn but still okay with medical help

Often comes to you with oddly specific questions.

"Hypothetically, if a car blew up in the near vicinity of where I was at, what is the possible health issues that could arise?"

"Well, burn marks obviously, depending on the distance it could be any degree. If it was enough to knock you over, then a possible concussion. Depending if you hit the ground and hard enough, possible broken or fractured bones. Not to even mention the possible pieces of metal and glass flying, and just blast trauma in general. Could cause damage to internal organs with enough force."

"Okay, so...hypothetically, if that happened, I should go to the infirmary?"

"Roach, were you next to a car when it blew up?"

"..."

"Gary???"

You immediately dragged him to the infirmary.

[1pepsiboy]

Friends to lovers - Matt Sturniolo smut (request)

Matt Sturniolo x reader!

Word count: 1.2k

warnings: kissing, dry humping, matt saying babe

A/N: sorry if this seems a little clunky?? I know it's not my best friends to lovers smut. The beginning isn't strong, just hang in there please!

***

All of you are hanging out in the living room, watching hockey on the TV, since it was shockingly a rainy day in LA. You and Nathan were visiting from Boston. A surprise Laura arranged to celebrate the triplets newest milestone. 

This visit has felt different between you and Matt. Nick and Chris, the friendships were still as they always have been; nothing awkward. But you and Matt have always been the closest and he’s been sort of distant since you got there. 

Chris looks over his shoulder. “Hey (y/n), can you grab me a pepsi?” 

Matt rolls his eyes. “Chris, you have two working feet, go get it yourself.” 

“I know that! I could just sense (y/n) was about to get up and go to the kitchen, right (y/n)?” Chris defends his request. 

You look between the two idiots with a cocked brow. “No, I wasn’t Chris. B-” 

Matt whacks Chris’s arm. “Hah! Go get it, Chri-”

“But I don’t mind getting it,” you finish. 

You got up from where you were resting against the couch, Nick had been painting your nails. After you take a pepsi out of the fridge and give it to Chris, you sit between the two on the couch. Chris wraps his arm around your shoulders and gives you a squeeze. 

“Thanks, you’re the best.” He cheeses a smile. 

You laugh under your breath. “No problem.” 

Suddenly, Matt gets up and stoops off to his room without a single word. All of you look at each other in confusion. 

“Matt!” Chris calls. “Come back out here!”

Nick yells, “Matthew Bernard!” 

“Fuck off!” Matt responds from behind the closed door. 

Instinctively, you stand and wave the others off. “I’ll go check on him.”

You knock on his door, turning the doorknob to see if it was unlocked. “Matt?”

“I said fu-” Matt swivels around in his gaming chair, headset already on as if he’s going to start a game. “Oh, sorry (y/n).”

You close the door and sit on the edge of his bed, hands in your lap. “Matt, what’s wrong? Is it about Chris? He was just joking around, you know that.”

“No- I mean, yeah a little…” He chews on his bottom lip and then brings his thumbnail into the equation. 

“Matt… Please talk to me. It just feels like… like we’ve been off since I got here.”

He furrowed his brows. “Nothing’s been off.”

You cock a brow now. “Let’s see… You’ve barely wanted to be near me, like we haven’t had a single late night one on one talk yet and I miss those… and then just now you acted weird when Chris asked me to do something for him and touched me. He’s always been like that and it never mattered before.”

Now Matt looks down at his hands in his lap, slouching more and more into the chair. “We’re fine, (y/n). I promise."

You bite your lip, then before you could chicken out, you say, “I don’t want to lose our friendship, but I also can’t keep this in anymore… I like you, Matt.”

His head raises, his eyes piercing into you with… surprise? Then a goofy smile spreads on his lips. “I… I like you too, (y/n). That’s why I’ve been acting kinda weird. I wanted to keep my distance until I figured out the right time to tell you.”

“Really fucking weird,” you laugh. “I thought that I, like, did something.”

Matt shakes his head. 

It hits you that he feels the same way and your stomach flutters. “Where- How- What do we do now?” 

“I don’t know.” Matt giggles. “Go on a date?” 

“Do you think this will make the group dynamic awkward?”

“Well… Nick and Chris kinda already know that I like you. I can’t hide anything from them. Nathan has a hunch I think."

You blush furiously. “Think they know I like you?” 

“Probably.” He chuckles.

You flop backwards on his bed, hiding your face in your hands. “Oh god, that’s so embarrassing.” 

Other hands carefully remove yours and Matt hovers over your body, very close. “It’s not. It’s feelings, you know? Hard to hide them.” 

The heat of his body is super apparent now and your mind fogs, forgetting what you’re discussing. You clear your throat and pull yourself backwards until you’re at his headboard. 

“I think until we figure out what we are, we should probably keep a little more distance between our bodies,” you state. 

“Okay, I understand.”

Matt walks around and lays down on the other end of the bed. “Is this okay?” 

You nod. 

“Should we watch something?” he asks, pointing to the TV. 

You nod again. You let him choose a random movie on Prime. As the movie starts, his hand falls close to yours. Despite your words, you couldn’t stop yourself from linking your fingers together. You let your eyes trail from your hands and up his tattooed arm, and then they land on his jawline. His soft lips were pursed a little bit. 

All critical thinking flees your mind. 

You move closer to him, your leg resting between his.

“I thought-” 

“Sshh. I take it back.” You press your lips against his. They are as soft as they look, and taste so good. The two of you fall in sync so easily. His hands brush through your hair as yours graze his back. Your thigh begins to rub against his covered cock. 

“Babe- I mean, (y/n)... Sorry, fuck.”

Your ears perk up, a sly smile spreads on your lips. “Call me babe again.”

Now a sly grin sets on his face and he rests his hand in the crook of your neck. “Babe.” 

“Mmhm.” You bite your lip and begin to rub against him again. 

“What if someone walks in?” he breathes. 

You shake your head. “That’s their own fault. The doors shut.” You don’t let up and you can feel his dick start to harden. 

He groans under his breath, taking in a breath between his teeth. “You’re right, I’ll shut up.”

Both of you sit up more so it’s easier. You find yourselves kissing again. You ride on his leg, making sure to keep close to his crotch. The panties under your pjs are soaking up by the second. You glance down quickly and notice a darker area on Matt’s sweatpants. 

“Matt… your sweatpants,” you pant. 

He leaves kisses on your neck and then on your covered nipples. “I don’t care, babe.” 

That one word fuels you to go even harder, your hands flatten against his headboard. You ache for him so bad.

“I’m gonna…” you moan. 

“Me too,” he whimpers. 

Matt inches his leg up, hitting the perfect spot. You keel over, your face mixing into his hair as your insides burn and cause your body to tremble. 

Matt digs his hands into your tank and his pants beg to be shut up. You lower yourself to connect your lips again. The sound of soft droplets creates a beautiful ambiance. 

“I’m sorry about your pants,” you mumble. 

“I said I didn’t care,” he rasps under his plump lips. “I have others.” 

A slow smirk spreads on your lips as you gaze into his eyes. “Do you have another pair of panties for me?” 

His face goes pale. “Shit… no, sorry.” 

“That’s fine.” You nip his ear. “I’ll just go commando in a pair of your other sweats.”

*You can request others from this list or send me new ones!*

[jobean12-blog]

Insatiable

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (Vampire AU)

Word Count: 893

Summary: Bucky will never tolerate any harm coming to you and he will do anything to protect you.

Author's Note: Another little piece for Kinktober! I can never leave out my favorite AU and Vampire!Bucky is one of my fave kinks! 🫠🔥 The inspiration for this came from Castlevania season 1- if you haven't seen the show it doesn't matter, I just love the idea of Dracula losing his mind bc anyone tries to hurt his love. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the sweet @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy!🥰

Warnings: soft sweetness, mentions of b-l-oo-d, fi-g-e-r-in-g, p-in-v, Vampire!Bucky bc he's just so hot lol

Vampire AU Masterlist

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

His blue eyes pierce the darkness of night as he gazes down on the slumbering village, unmoving on the large balcony even as you approach.

“I was wondering where you had gone,” you whisper as you curl yourself against him. “I hate being in bed without you.”

He removes his gaze from the village and settles it on you, the radiant skin of his brow furrowing when he sees your bare skin.

With a tsk of disapproval he removes his shirt and drapes it over your shoulders, cocooning you with its warmth as he presses you against his body. He drags his eyes away from you and stares back out over the village.

You lay a palm on his bare chest, feeling nothing but his cool skin. “Talk to me.”

He rests his hand over yours. “I’m going to burn that city to the ground.”

The words come out in a rumble of a warning, his eyes glowing and his fangs elongating.

“No,” you state, sliding in front of him so you can draw his attention. “You’re not.”

With a sly smile his focus returns to you. “Is that so doll?”

He cages you against the iron railing of the balcony and ghosts his fingers along your collarbone, moving higher until he pushes his shirt from your shoulder.

“Mm hm,” you hum, pressing yourself closer to him.

His dark eyelashes kiss his cheeks as he feels every inch of your naked body and his hands glide along your curves.

But when he speaks the next words his grip tightens and his eyes flash. “But they tried to take you from me. Tried to take the only thing that makes this eternity worth enduring.”

“James,” you whisper, brushing your fingertips along his jaw. “They didn’t succeed. You saved me. I’ll always be safe with you.”

His fingers ghost over your hip to grab your elbow before they continue sliding along your arm until he catches your wrist in his hand and leans his cheek into your palm.

“They need to pay for what they’ve done,” he murmurs as he lifts your hand and presses his lips to each fingertip. “I will make them bleed.”

“You can’t punish all of them for the wrong doings of only a few.”

“I can,” he says, his voice deep and powerful. “Besides doll,” he croons, his smirk growing, “how do you plan to stop me?”

Your own grin graces your features as you remove your hand from his and take his wrist, sliding his fingers down between your breasts and along your stomach.

His breath hitches ever so slightly as his eyes track the movement.

“A distraction,” he simpers.

You catch your bottom lip between your teeth and nod.

“For the rest of eternity?” he teases.

“Are you complaining?” you ask when his fingers meet the apex of your thighs.

You release his hand and he doesn’t move, his touch teasing.

“If I could stay buried inside you forever,” he murmurs, nipping lightly along your throat with his fangs, “I would.”

You shiver and spread your legs wider when his fingers dip lower. His free hand slides firmly around your neck and his fangs still hover above your delicate skin as he runs his nose the length of your throat, inhaling your scent into his lungs.

“You smell good enough to eat,” he hums when he slips two fingers inside you.

Your head rolls to the side, exposing more of your neck as you thrust your hips onto his fingers, whispered pleas for more falling from your parted lips.

“You tempt the beast inside me doll,” he growls.

“I want you…every way I can have you James.”

The drag of his fingers is slow, torturous and purposeful.

His cool lips graze along your jaw before they find yours and he draws out every breath from your lungs, pushing harder and deeper with his fingers.

“James,” you gasp as your legs start to tremble.

Without warning he pulls his fingers from inside you and lifts them between your bodies, the moonlight illuminating his glistening skin. He brings them to his lips, licking and sucking them clean of every last drop with a satisfied growl.

“They tried to take you from me,” he repeats, his eyes growing darker even as a soft glow surrounds his irises. “Tried to take this from me.”

As he speaks the words he grabs your thigh and spreads you open, lifting your leg and wrapping it around his waist. He fills you in one hard thrust, your back arching and bending back over the railing.

He holds you in his embrace, his hips still as he nips and sucks along the swell of your breasts.

“James…please,” you beg.

When his lips reach your pulse point he bites down hard enough to draw blood, his fangs caressing the spot before he soothes it with his tongue.

“You would have me do nothing when they try to take everything from me?” he whispers into your skin, his voice raspy with need. “I can’t lose you.”

He starts to move; each roll of his hips deliberate as he chokes out the next words and wraps his hand more tightly around your neck, drawing you impossibly closer.

“I can’t lose you and I’ll do anything to protect my Angel. Even if it means I have to be the Devil.”

@book-dragon-13 @hiddles-rose @randomfandompenguin @goldylions @buckysdollforlife @blackwidownat2814 @lizette50

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

hello! how are you? I hope everything is ok, it's me again, sorry for the inconvenience!

But I have a doubt, maybe this can even become a chapter

After the reader returns from Teyvat, all injured, having lost some fingers and teeth (from what I remember from Fitzgerald's chapter), Yosano is the only one who knew the total destruction done to the reader's body (Fitzgerald theoretically also know after having heard Pantalone and Ningguang commenting), having to take care of the reader and having her ability, well, we all know how Yosano's ability works, would she feel bad about having to use her ability on the reader to help him recover (even though it's the only way), besides, being a doctor, she has a greater understanding of things, do you think the reader's situation would make her sadder? Because she understand more about injuries, etc.?

thank you for your attention :)

Count them

Self-Aware BSD AU x SAGAU Imposter crossover

Self-Aware! Akiko Yosano x GN! Reader

Description: Yosano found another reason to hate her ability.

Warning: OOC. English is my second language. Injuries.

Set during last bits of Lost and Found, during Reader being unconscious.

Short fic.

A bit of comfort at the end.

______

Yosano has a strange relationship with "Thou Shalt Not Die".

She wasn't fond of it. Yet, there is no way she will dismiss its usefulness.

The ability was powerful, but, Yosano wished, that it could be activated differently.

But, when she got her chance, she missed it. She choosed something different.

_________

Yosano looked at the screen of Ango's computer. He recently got access to game files and find a way to alter their abilities.

"So... I could either choose my ability be able to heal any decease, be it chronic, internal, or incurable by modern medicine, or have "Thou Shalt Not Die" activated without fatal injuries, but stuck with physical external injuries?"

Ango nodded.

"Yes. I am sorry, but, you can't have both."

Yosano closed her eyes and rubbed her temples.

"Can I have some time to think about it?"

Ango smiles reassuringly.

"Of course, Yosano-san"

Yosano spent whole night, reading about diseases from real world. About experience medicine, about slim chances. And about not having chances.

In the morning, she chooses being able to choose any diseases.

_______

Yosano silently leave your room. She needs one moment to herself.

To write it down.

She returned to her room and took one of her books from the shelf.

A simple atlas medical book.

It took her few minutes to find pen and pencils.

She never thought about that part of her ability. About knowing what injuries her ability have healed.

You have many. And fatal injuries.

In no way it were good news, but, at least, there was no need for Yosano to hurt you more. To use her ability.

Yosano took a pen and opened the book.

Time to write them down.

______

Burned mouth

Broken ribs

Multiple burns on legs, arms

Cut off toes

Removed canines (all four)

Ear bitten off (old injury)

Shoulders were pierced (claws? old injury)

Multiple stabs in the chest (arrow, spears)

Left eye gouged out

Nose broken (not clear, if it was an incident, or from the hit)

All nails torn off

Patches of skin removed (all body parts)

Joint dislocated (rack?)

how dare they...

_______

Yosano hid the book with the list.

She won't show it to anyone.

She won't tell anyone about it.

The anger will fuel. Her anger already burns with rage.

They don't need to know. For nor.

Right now, they should focus on you.

And not on the desire to chop off everything that monsters have.

Right now, she should return to you. And wait for you to wake up.

_______

Yosano rubbed your feet.

"All toes are here." her voice was hushed and soft.

"All toes are her." echoed you.

Yosano carefully rubbed your knees.

"Your knees aren't dislocated."

"They aren't dislocated" repeated you.

It became your daily routine.

Yosano would point at every part of you, that were injured, showing you, reminding you, that you aren't injured anymore. That you are safe. That you aren't in pain.

Yosano finished with you and left for a moment to wash her hands.

When she returns, she sat down on the bed near you.

She squeezed your hand.

"[Y/N]... You will never be hurt again. You will never be scared again."

You nodded weakly. You still were scared. But, even so, you believed in Yosano's words.

Yosano carefully pet your head.

"Let's brush your hair."

Yosano helped you sit up and took a hairbrush from the nightstand.

Carefully and gently, Yosano brushed your tangled hair. You yawned. You had another sleepless night, and brushing made you sleepy. Yosano whispered.

"You can sleep, if you want. I will be here. We will be here."

'I won't leave. You won't dissapear. No one will hurt you. There will be no need to use my ability on you. For me to count them.'

"Sleep, My Dear Dango. Don't be afraid. You are home."

You doze off. You had no dreams. Just a healthy dreamless sleep.

______

Tag list: @myluckymoon @cocodrilofeliz @c4xcocoa @vvyeislazzy @whisperingwinters @nervousinfluencertidalwave @ayameshu @izzieg3987

[hongjoongtime117]

Wooyoung’s Side Quest

Pairing: Hongjoong/Wooyoung

Genre: SMUT (MDNI 18+)

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: unprotected sex (wrap it up IRL!), removal of piercings, Wooyoung is a brat, because of course he is, as always, let me know if I missed anything!

Tag list: @arki-sha @cptnhngjng @klllerwaifu @youaremystar1024 @jintastic-yuyu @alliecoady98 @bigbabygremlin @ghostlovesworld @kihyuns-military-wife

Wooyoung is busy preparing the dinner for the night Hongjoong has planned for you when he hears his name being called from Hongjoong’s room.

“Yah! Youngie! I need your help!” he yells through the quiet apartment, the only sounds coming from the kitchen where Wooyoung is busy working.

“I’m just a little bit busy, Joongie! Do you want me to burn dinner!?” he hollers back.

He shuffles towards the kitchen to Wooyoung. “I definitely don’t want you to burn dinner, but I really need your help,” he sighs dejectedly.

“Ok, give me like five minutes so I can get to a point where it’s ok for me to stop without burning down the apartment. Y/N would never let me live that down, as much as I tease her about her cooking” he cackles.

“I’ll just go… wait in my room, then.”

As promised, five minutes later, Wooyoung shows up in Hongjoong’s room, to a half naked, frustrated Hongjoong sitting at the edge of the bed. “So what exactly is so important it couldn’t wait?”

“I… I want to take these out but… it’s easier if I’m hard,” Hongjoong says shyly, motioning to the jewelry adorning his soft cock.

“Couldn’t just use your hand, Joongie?” he teases.

“My hand is useless when my dick knows there’s a pretty boy here who would love to give it some attention.”

“So sure of yourself, huh Captain?”

“Please, Youngie?”

Wooyoung straddles Hongjoong and places love bites to his neck. “So greedy, Captain. You want me on your cock, knowing it’s also going to get attention from our pretty Y/N later, hmmm?” he whispers seductively into the shell of his ear.

“That bratty ass mouth of yours would have done the job just fine, Youngie,” he whispers back.

He leans back a bit and taps his chin, as if thinking. “Hmmm. You asked me to help you, and I’m going to do it properly. Plus I also want your pretty, pierced cock rearranging my insides before they come out. Why exactly do you want them out?”

“I had to sit there and watch Y/N deep throat your dick. And thoroughly enjoy it. She can’t do that to me with these in. That’s fucking dangerous and I don’t wanna take that chance.”

“Ahhh, so purely selfish reasons. You are indeed a greedy boy, Joongie,” Wooyoung teases with a roll of his hips.

“It’s nottttt! You’re gonna sit here and tell me that she was not absolutely enjoying choking herself on your cock, Woo?” Hongjoong asks in amusement.

“She is a good little cockslut,” Wooyoung agrees. “But let’s get back to the task at hand. Make yourself at least a little bit useful and grab the lube. I want to help, but like… I’m also in the middle of cooking a gourmet meal here. So I’m gonna ride you hard and fast. Not always my first choice, but it’ll get the job done,” he shrugs as Hongjoong lays back to reach for the lube.

He hands it to Wooyoung and he flips the top open with a familiar click. He scoots back a bit to drizzle some onto Hongjoong’s cock, and gives him a few pumps to spread it around.

“Don’t you need me to prep you a bit first, Youngie?”

“Joong, I literally live with San who can’t keep his dick in his pants. Now shut the fuck up and let me do my job!”

Wasting no more time, Wooyoung fully seats himself on Hongjoong’s dick, letting out a breathy moan when Hongjoong bottoms out. “You always fill me up so perfectly. Have I ever told you how much I love your cock, Joongie?”

“All the time, pretty boy,” Hongjoong replies, nibbling Wooyoung’s earlobe.

As promised, Wooyoung sets a hard, fast pace, intent on getting Hongjoong and himself to the finish line quickly. Wooyoung rests his forehead, glistening with sweat against Hongjoong’s. He kisses Hongjoong with purpose before shoving him backwards, hands finding his stiff, pierced nipples and circling them with the pads of his thumbs. Hongjoong lets out a strangled moan, the attention to his nipples and Wooyoung’s rough pace bringing him closer to the edge.

Before Hongjoong gets the relief of his release, Wooyoung clambers off of Hongjoong’s dick, which makes Hongjoong whine at the loss of Wooyoung’s tight hole squeezing around him.

“Sorry, Captain, but we gotta take these out before you cum. The purpose was to make you hard enough to get them out. If you cum before that happens, it will have defeated the whole purpose.”

“But you feel so good, Youngie,” Hongjoong whines.

“Behave for a whole two minutes, and I promise you can fuck me full,” he replies as he gets to work on removing all 9 piercings from Hongjoong’s dick. He quickly and efficiently unscrews each one, despite Hongjoong twitching and leaking in his hands, and places them on the nightstand.

“Ok, all done Joongie. Now let me finish you off.”

He climbs back on Hongjoong’s cock with renewed effort, because he is just as desperate to cum as the man under him is. He returns his hands to play with his nipples, hitting one of Hongjoong’s weaknesses.

“Come on, Captain. Cum for me,” Wooyoung growls and he grinds down hard on Hongjoong’s dick.

“You first,” he growls back as he grabs hold of Wooyoung’s leaking cock and strokes him to match the rhythm in which Wooyoung is riding him.

The rock of Wooyoung’s hips get impossibly faster as his orgasm rips through him, spurting thick ropes of cum down Hongjoong’s hand. Wooyoung takes his cum soaked hand and brings it to his mouth and intently cleans it with his tongue.

The sight of Wooyoung cleaning his own cum off of him is enough to have Hongjoong barreling towards his own release. He cums inside Wooyoung with a series of curses and whimpers.

As he steadies his breaths, Wooyoung pats him on the cheek and clambers off of him. He heads to the bathroom to grab a couple of washcloths to clean up the mess they made.

He slips his pants back on and shoots Hongjoong a look. “Can I go finish dinner now? Is the needy baby happy?” he teases, smirk decorating his face.

“Fuck off, Woo. I have to go pick up Y/N in a few and I need to put myself back together, and I can’t do that with your sexy ass distracting me. Go be a good wife and finish up dinner,” he teases back.

He sticks his tongue out at Hongjoong. “At least I know my place!” He turns on his heel and heads back to the kitchen to finish the dinner he’s been working hard on for you and Hongjoong.

[bruh-changbin]

love and leather

pairing: bad boy changbin! x afab reader

genre: smut

warnings: use of handcuffs, piv, exhibitionism, fingering (f receiving), some smoochin', alcohol consumption, cigarette smoking, an icky man being kinda icky, i think that's all

word count: 3.4K

a/n: before y’all say anything i knowwww this is short but y'all i'm busy and fuck in my last semester of uni and i kinda need to prioritize that a bit more 😭 buuuuut on the flip side i am slowly but surely making progress on some longer fun things so keep your eyes peeled 🫶 this fic is basically a love letter to bad boy eyeliner bin *sigh* when will he return from war..... also lowkey a continuation of under the bleachers but also not really.... no real plot just smutty bc i've been super horknee lately lawl enjoy

————

seo changbin likes a lot of things.

he likes eyeliner and smoking cigarettes and hard sex. he likes going fast on his motorcycle and he likes his tattered leather jacket. he likes getting piercings with silver jewelry and he likes pretending that the taste of tequila doesn’t affect him.

but above all, he likes you.

he likes your pretty teeth and the curve of your neck. he likes the leather platform boots you bought to try to impress him. he likes the smell of your shampoo that’s now permanently interwoven into the fabric of his pillow.

he likes it when you cry when you cum and when you dig your teeth into his shoulder as he fucks you. he likes the way your speech becomes slurred after he’s given you countless mind-blowing orgasms.

he likes to be in control. but not in a weird, lowkey misogynistic way. more in a ‘i’m gonna fuck you so hard and act cold so we both feel good and then kiss away your tears because i love you more than anything else’ kind of way, you know? that’s why handcuffs are such a staple in your relationship.

you remember the first time he used those cold, metal cuffs on you.

it was after a halloween party and changbin was dressed up as, you guessed it, a police officer. the party was fun at first but soon grew to be quite boring. when changbin started to get a little too handsy was when you decided to call it a night. the cab ride back to your apartment was excruciatingly long and when you arrived you unlocked your door with trembling, sweaty hands.

no words needed to be exchanged for you to know to get onto your mattress on your stomach, hands behind your back where changbin cuffed them in place with a satisfying metallic click! 

his movements were painstakingly slow, removing and discarding your bottoms and costume at a torturous pace to tease you (for what you have no idea - your costume wasn’t even that revealing). you could feel the tip of his nose tracing the skin in between your shoulder blades before he fucked you from behind, his blunt nails digging into your hips and he gripped you like he was never gonna let go. all you could do was cry and drool into your bedding as your boyfriend brought you to orgasm so many times your legs felt like tv static.  

every time you tried to move, tried to find solace and stability by gripping the duvet underneath you, you were reminded of the cuffs that were binding your wrists together. changbin would chuckle every time he heard them clink and jingle, knowing he had complete and utter control over you. if anything it added fuel to his fire, resulting in him thrusting his cock into you in such a way that made it feel as if he was so deep inside of you that the two of you would forever be connected.

when he finally relented and unlocked you, your wrists were bruised and throbbing - it felt amazing. 

the stinging of your wrists coupled with the pulsing of your abused cunt had you passing out on changbin’s broad chest in minutes and falling into one of the deepest sleeps you had ever experienced. 

but of course, come morning time, he treated you as if you were royalty and kissed the marks that his handcuffs left on you with so much delicacy you thought you were going to turn into a puddle. 

unbeknownst to the outside world, seo changbin has a soft side; which you discovered the first time he brought you into his room and had forgotten to hide his munchlax plushie beforehand. watching him scramble to hide it under his bed made the situation 10 times worse, and all he could do was scratch the back of his neck sheepishly as you attempted to stifle your laugh.

once the two of you became, you know, official, he let this side of him shine through more often. 

at times he treats you as if you’re made of porcelain, as if you’ll crack and break at even the slightest touches - hence the way he traces the back of your hand with his thumb when you’re holding hands, his strokes akin to that of a feather.

you’ve lost track of the amount of times he’s almost burnt your kitchen down while attempting to make you breakfast after making love to you for hours on end the night before. it always ends the same, with changbin holding a plate of toast so burnt it's turned into bedrock and scrambled eggs you could bounce off the wall because of how rubbery they are. the result is always changbin dragging you to your favourite cafe for brunch in defeat, claiming that ‘it’s the thought that counts, y/n’. 

but only you have the privilege of seeing him like this. these small, tender moments reserved only for the two of you in private, away from the curious eyes of onlookers in public. 

on the days where both of you are lucky enough to not have to pull yourself out of bed early for the sake of attending a lecture or getting work done, you get to revel in the warmth provided by each other’s sleeping bodies. if you wake before changbin, you’re greeted with a view of his broad shoulders, his skin dotted with small imperfections and the bumps of his individual vertebrae visible. small, soft snores can be heard escaping his parted lips. if changbin wakes before you do… he never does.

sometimes you’re able to spend the whole entire day together without having to tend to other duties. these days usually entail slow, lazy starts to the day followed by changbin dragging you to the gym to watch him do lat pulldowns and cable rows followed by a shared shower where you help massage shampoo into his scalp. or, it could involve the two of you screaming at the tv as you battle over the top spot in mario kart 8 - changbin mains bowser, of course, whereas you opt to play as king boo. it takes almost all of your strength to avoid whipping your remote at the wall when he absolutely clobbers you during grumble volcano. 

“don’t be upset y/n,” he coos without fail, “i’ll make it up to you later tonight!”

and he always does.

in public, he’s brooding, mysterious, sexy. it’s rare to see him without a cocky smirk painted across his face, his puffed lips quirked upwards as if to say ‘i’m better than you’ to anyone who crosses his path. and it’s true, he is.

he’s also the type to get jealous very easily.

case in point: 

it’s friday night, and the two of you are perusing the city streets looking for some fun. earlier in the day, jisung had informed you that a small group of friends was planning on paying a visit to a well loved bar to get sloshed later that night. with nothing better to do, you and changbin accepted the invitation.

at first it was fun, with everyone reconnecting and catching eachother up on the current drama in their lives. but after an hour or two the vibe changed and the atmosphere became almost… cliquey. everyone had chosen their respective person or group for the night, choosing to only converse within their little bubble and never straying from it. this resulted in you and changbin fleeing the scene, opting to enjoy yourselves elsewhere where you can get lost in the music and each other… and alcohol. 

soon after you’re at the front of a line for some club you’ve never been to with changbin’s arm wrapped around your waist as the bouncer checks your i.d. you’re let in with a nonchalant wave of a hand, and changbin follows shortly after.

once inside you make your way up the stairs to where the crowd is, choosing to forgo coat check and instead tossing your jackets on top of a pile that has formed on one of the few tables lining the walls near the entrance. then, you make a beeline to the bar where you order yourself a vodka cran and changbin a heineken. 

with alcohol in hand you shove your way to the middle of the dance floor, getting lost in the club music while bumping and grinding on your boyfriend who’s posted up behind you. you’re not sure how much time you spend on the dancefloor with warm cheeks and limbs that have gone fuzzy, but it feels as if time itself has come to a momentary halt, allowing you to enjoy yourself in this moment while the world continues on outside without you. 

so, when changbin taps your shoulder and motions to the bar to wordlessly say ‘i’m going to get more drinks’ you only nod and continue to dance on your own while you wait for his return. 

this decision proves to be fatal however, for only moments after changbin’s departure you feel a clammy hand wrap around your bicep. you whip around only to find yourself face to face with some random man wearing a nike tracksuit ogling at you like you’re the last piece of his favourite candy at the candy store. gross. 

“sorry, are you trying to get past me?”

“nah i’m trying to get with you, ma,” he practically yells into your ear in order to be heard over the music.

“oh! no thanks, my boyfriend’s at the bar getting drinks,” you say and attempt to shuffle away, an action that proves to be harder than you thought due to the mass of people surrounding you.

much to your dismay, the man persists, “boyfriend? why’d he leave you here all alone?”

“... to get us drinks.”

“well, if i was your man i’d never leave you alone, princess.”

princess? gross. only changbin gets to call you that… when he’s fucking you.

“is everything okay, y/n?” you feel an arm nudge yours and turn around to see changbin, your knight in shining armour, who’s come to save you from this god awkward conversation. in each hold he hands a drink, one for you and one for himself, and you fear what he may do with them in the next few moments.

“yea, all good, this guy was just being… weird,” 

the skepticism that was previously evident on changbin’s face quickly morphs into annoyance (and jealousy at the prospect of someone other than himself making moves on you). without speaking he shoves the recently acquired drinks into your hands - making you scramble to stop yourself from dropping them and creating a sticky, syrupy mess all over the dance floor - before moving to size up the ‘bro’ that was just hitting on you with his chest puffed and chin held high. 

not wanting to get into any sort of trouble tonight, you practically throw yourself in front of the freight train that is your boyfriend.

“no! it’s fine, changbin, let’s just forget him and have a good time, ‘kay?” you attempt to reason with him to no avail. all changbin does is shift his gaze between you and the guy who was making moves on you several times before wordlessly grasping your arm and pulling you towards the exit; you’re forced to abandon the dripping drinks in your hands on the edge of the bar (not before you manage to spill about half of one all over your lower arm).

soon you’re out of the crowded space, and are making your way towards the exit of the building and the city streets that are surely still teeming with nightlife.

“bin-” 

“we’re going home,” he asserts, “i don’t want anyone talking to you like that.”

all you can do is allow yourself to be dragged behind your boyfriend like a ragdoll, his grip on your wrist so tight your fingertips start to lose their sensation. you know that any words of dissatisfaction you voice will be falling on deaf ears, so you opt to keep quiet and let changbin take the lead.

the bite of the cold night air of the winter jolts you awake once you step outside. a dull ring settles in your ears as the loud club music dissipates and changbin drags you further and further away from the establishment, almost dislocating your shoulder when he suddenly yanks you down a small, secluded alleyway. 

“bin i’m fine, really,” you attest, your eyes never leaving the troubled face of your boyfriend, who pulls a pack of marlboros and a lighter out of his pocket. you watch as he places a cigarette between his lips before lighting it, using his hand to shelter the flame from the wind. in that moment you become envious of a measly little cigarette, for you so desperately wish that it was you and your mouth that changbin was putting his lips on and inhaling deeply, sucking you in like you’re his lifeline. 

a haze of smoke soon surrounds you as changbin takes several drags from his dart, his eyes dark and refusing to meet yours. the scent burns your nostrils and you have to fight back the urge to cough; smoking only appeals to you when you’re drunk, and the alcohol you consumed earlier in the night has mostly exited your system.

with a sigh that manifests in a grey cloud changbin tosses his half-smoked cigarette to the ground, squashing the spark with the heel of his boot before catching your eye. his leather jacket rustles as he raises his hands to cup your face, the pads of his thumbs caressing your cheeks.

“you’re mine, and nobody else’s,” his gaze is so piercing it feels as if he’s going to burn a hole through you, “right?”

you nod enthusiastically, head bobbing up and down as you whisper a quiet ‘right’ through squished cheeks and puckered lips - lips that are then being pressed against your boyfriends. 

changbin tastes like the nicotine he just inhaled and smells like the cologne he saturated himself with earlier this evening, and you find yourself getting drunk all over again on something other than alcohol this time - him. 

with your back pressed up against a brick wall you allow yourself to get lost in the feeling of your lover’s mouth on yours, enraptured by the way changbin moves his lips in tandem with your own. the warmth radiating from the palms of his hands that have yet to leave your face makes your cheeks flush, and you tangle your fingers in the wavy strands of his hair that he’s choosing to let grow out, much to your delight. 

the skin of your cheek stings when it’s exposed to the cold as changbin retracts his hand from your face, the tips of his fingers tracing the skin of your neck and sternum before reaching the waistband of your bottoms. his curious hand only hovers there for a moment before slipping underneath, not allowing a mere piece of fabric to be an obstacle in the way of your pleasure. a feeble moan escapes you when changbin gropes your cunt over your panties, the fabric already sticky and wet with your arousal. 

“here, bin?” you question while scanning your surroundings, making sure there isn't anyone spying on the two of you being exhibitionists, “are you sure this is a good idea?’

“the best one i’ve ever had,” as he speaks his lips graze your neck, his breath hot and heavy before he starts to nip and suck at the supple skin; your pulse skyrockets and you clamp your thighs shut, ultimately trapping changbin’s hand in between them. 

he manages to pry your legs apart just enough in order to move his hand, sliding your panties to the side and running two deft fingers through the folds of your dripping, needy pussy. it’s funny in the sense that changbin’s actions are so simple yet they already have you whining in pleasure, head rolling forward as you hide yourself in the crook of his neck. 

“shhh baby, try to keep it down,” he coos, yet continues on nonetheless - easy for him to say, he’s not the one taking your fingers in an alleyway where a bunch of drunk people are parading by only metres away. 

changbin continues to play with your cunt nonchalantly, much to your chagrin. every now and then he lets the tip of his middle finger dip into your dripping hole, causing you to go weak in the knees as the calloused heel of his palm kisses and bumps your aching clit.

“binnie,” you heave out rather embarrassingly, “i need it.”

“my girl needs my fingers in her pretty pussy, huh?” he teases, you nod pathetically with glassy eyes.

and at long last changbin finally relents and slips his middle and ring fingers fully inside of you, your cunt immediately clenching around his digits. the way he drags his fingers in and out of you so slowly before fucking them back into you feels so euphoric that you can’t help the goofy, drunken smile that makes its way onto your face as you drool onto the shoulder of his leather jacket. 

with his broad shoulders shielding you from the outside world, changbin begins to curl and scissor his fingers inside of your warm, wet walls, making you moan and plead against his neck.

“god binnie you’re so good, feels so fucking good,” you cry through cracked lips while blinking away the eyeliner that stings your shiny, tearfilled eyes. 

changbin then uses his thumb to massage your clit while his fingers continue to reach deep inside of you, making your lower abdomen twist and churn and your heart go thump thump thump from behind your chest. your fingers only tighten their grip on changbin’s jacket as you subtly rock your hips against his hand in an attempt to bring your orgasm on sooner.

you find yourself tuning out the sounds of traffic and people and nightlife to instead hone in on the beating of changbin’s heart that you can hear beating in his chest, your moans that only continue to increase in pitch, the rustle of bin’s jacket as he fingers you. 

“so close honey, can you cum for me?” changbin groans into your ear in response to your pussy clenching around his fingers, a telltale sign that you’re on the brink of finishing all over his hand. at this point your back is aching from being pressed against brick for so long and you have a headache from how intensely you’ve been furrowing your brows, but the fire you feel in your aching pelvis makes it all worth it.

it only takes changbin several more thrusts before you’re creaming all over his fingers, whining his name is a nasally, needy tone as you all but collapse against his built frame as your orgasm explodes inside of you like fireworks. after a few moments you begin to come down, immediately noticing how dry your open mouth is and how sore your fingers are from gripping changbin’s jacket with everything you got.

when you pull away from changbin to stand up straight, a string of spit from your mouth to his jacket follows you - you wipe it away and pray he didn’t notice. it takes you a second to fully regain your balance and when you do, changbin finally lets go of your hips only to move his soiled fingers to his mouth where he sucks them clean of your essence. then he places his mouth on yours, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue before he swallows you down his throat. 

words needn’t be exchanged for you to know what comes next, you simply follow changbins lead as he drags you all the way home and makes a mess of you on the sheets of his bed.

[whitedarkmoonflower]

You are good

Pairing: Sihtric x reader (female)

Authors note: I refuse all responsibility for this and blame @foxyanon and this post for planting this idea into my head. I think you will recognise your quotes. 😅

Warnings: SMUT 18+

Word Count: 3,3 K

Tags: @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @hb8301 @zillahvathek @alexagirlie @gemini-mama @verenahx @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @willowbrookesblog @thenameswinter99 @ellabellabus07 @mcbuckyyyy @kirtseinw

If you want to be added to or removed from the tag list - write to me.

Uhtred's tail, you had silently dubbed him. "Yes, lord" and "No, lord" were nearly the only phrases to escape his lips. Most of the time, he seemed to vanish, only to reappear as if conjured by a magic wand at the mere sound of his name, his head tucked into his shoulders, hunched forward, eyes fixed on the ground, avoiding any direct gaze. Horses need to be readied – Sihtric will do that. Not enough wood for the fire – he’s already gone searching. Pretty face and large, alerted eyes. Suspicious eyes.

You didn’t trust him. Uhtred apparently did, but your brother had always had a far too big and soft heart, he tried to hide behind his loud talk about destiny and honour. So, you kept a watchful eye on Sihtric.

You saw him conversing with the horses in hushed, gentle tones, telling them about his day, treating them as if they were his best friends, meticulously brushing their backs. You witnessed him sitting in the darkness, far from the reach of the fire's flickering light, leaning against a tree or a cart, his form curled up, arms wrapped around his legs, chin resting on his knees. He would startle at the sound of raucous, drunken laughter piercing the air. You noticed him shudder when his name was called,  jumping to his feet as if he'd been bitten by a venomous snake, and wince when someone unexpectedly placed a hand on his shoulder.

But you saw other things as well. You observed him reach into his saddlebag, generously distributing all his provisions to the beggars who sat at the city gates as you entered Winchester. You saw him remove the silver ring recently bestowed upon him by Uhtred, gifting it to a small, emaciated boy whom he had caught attempting to steal his pouch just moments earlier. You even saw him step in and kick out a drunkard from the alehouse, who was about to take a swing at the serving girl.

"Here, have a drink," you offered him a mug, settling down beside him. He flinched and looked up at you in surprise. A hesitant smile graced Sihtric's lips as he accepted the drink from you, his eyes filled with warmth and gratitude. That's how it all began – your quiet chats away from the noisy laughter and banter by the fireplaces. You were just plain curious and cautious, or so you kept telling yourself. You wanted to learn more about the reserved and timid warrior in your brother’s service. And with each moment, each story he shared as he gradually opened up to you, revealing bits and pieces from his life, your fascination with him never wavered.

Your own path hadn't been a walk in the park either. You'd lost everything except your brother. You both survived that Danish assault, but life played a cruel trick on you, and you didn't luck out like Uhtred who found a new family. Fate turned you into a warrior, fueled by anger, rage, and an unquenchable thirst for revenge. Sometimes, it felt like your heart stopped beating the day the Danes yanked you from your old life, leaving you with an empty, pitch-black hole in your chest. It changed when you reunited with Uhtred. It was like you finally fit into this world again, and your brother's love warmed your heart. Yet, in the quiet of the night, when you were alone with your thoughts, that dark hole in your chest still haunted you, making you wonder if you were really alive.

And now, you'd crossed paths with someone whose journey had been even more rocky as yours, whose soul seemed like an open, bleeding wound. But within him, there still was a warmth that felt like it could rekindle the spark of life within your own heart too.

—----------------------------------------------------

"What a pretty thing!" the guard sneered, his fingers digging into the flesh of your cheeks as he pulled you closer, his foul breath assaulting your senses. It had been your fault; your recklessness had landed both you and Sihtric in this grimy dungeon. But not a single word of reproach had escaped Sihtric's lips. You had a sense that rescue might be on the horizon, as the boy who had been with you had escaped and was likely delivering the news to Uhtred. However, for the moment, you were stuck here.

"Don't touch her!" Sihtric hissed, his voice quivering with anger as he swatted the guard's hand away from you.

"What the hell! Hold that rat for me," the guard grumbled, turning his attention away from you, while the other two forcibly twisted Sihtric's arms behind his back. You winced as the first blow landed on Sihtric's face, jerking his head to the side, followed by another and another. Not a sound escaped his lips as he stared back at the guard, his eyes burning with pure hatred.

Another punch, this time aimed at Sihtric's abdomen, caused him to double over with a grunt, gasping for air. The guards released him, and Sihtric's knees and hands crumpled to the ground. A heavy leather boot struck his stomach, sending him sprawling. Arms defensively wrapped around his head, Sihtric writhed on the floor, convulsing under the brutal onslaught that was shattering his body.

"I hope this serves as a valuable lesson, you filthy heathen. Next time, think before you open your mouth," one of the guards spat, then turned to leave, motioning for the others to follow suit.

"What was that? Are you out of your mind?" you whispered sharply to Sihtric, rushing to his side and kneeling beside him to assess the damage. His nose was bleeding, and his lip and eyebrow were cut. Gently, you placed his arm around your shoulders, wrapping your arm around his waist as you helped him back on his feet and guided him towards a heap of straw in the corner of the cell. He sank heavily onto it, leaning his back and head against the wall.

"At least they got distracted," he shuddered, shoulders quivering, spitting blood and wiping his chin with his sleeve.

"That was incredibly foolish of you. It seems you don't have any broken ribs, but it could have turned out much worse," you tore the lower edge of your tunic and reached out to clean the blood from Sihtric's face with the makeshift rag.

"It's not too high a price to pay if it keeps their attention off you," Sihtric replied, raising his eyes, and for perhaps the first time, your gazes consciously met. "Besides, I'm used to it," he added, a sad smile playing on his lips.

"I can handle myself," you hissed, but your eyes were brimming with gratitude, while Sihtric merely shrugged his shoulders, wincing when your fingers touched his split lip.

—---------------------------------------

Your blood ran hot, adrenaline surging through your veins, a loud thump of your heart in your ears. Your senses sharpened to an almost painful degree as it seemed you could hear the trampled grass beneath your feet crying out. Your fingers clenched tightly around the shaft of your axe, tracing every line and wrinkle carved into the wood, as you melded seamlessly with your weapon, becoming an extension of your arm. There was no escape from the thick, intoxicating scent of blood that hung in the air, clinging to your clothes, seeping through your skin, intensifying the thrill. You sank to your knees, using the shaft of your axe for support, the taste of iron and ashes lingering in your mouth.

"Are you injured?" you flinched at the touch on your shoulder, raising your head only to see Sihtric quickly retract his hand.

Today was the first time you had witnessed him in battle, his eyes ablaze with excitement, his body a coiled spring of taut muscles, moving with purpose and precision. He resembled a young wolf on the hunt, thrilled by his own strength and agility, seamlessly blending with the chaos around him.

A brief, lingering gaze at the young Dane fighting alongside you had cost you dearly. A sudden swing of an axe caught you off guard, your step back too hurried and unsteady, causing you to lose your balance and tumble, releasing your own weapon. The stench of death filled your nostrils, the axe poised in the air, ready to strike, etching itself into your senses as you desperately fumbled to find something to counter the blow.

Too late, a single thought pierced your mind as you watched the blade descend, moving so agonisingly slow that it felt as if time itself had altered its pace just to mock you. A clank of metal and a scorching splatter of blood across your face brought the world back to its normal tempo, as the lifeless body of a red-faced Dane thudded to the ground beside you. A hand reached out, and you grasped it, allowing it to yank you back onto your feet. You met the piercing gaze of two mismatched eyes, filled with anxiety and something more, something profound and indescribable, yet so intense that it sent shivers down your spine. There was no time for words as you both were drawn back into the intricate dance of life and death surrounding you.

"I'm fine," you growled, breathing heavily, your body trembling as you pushed yourself upright with the aid of the axe's shaft. A deep ache surged through your tired muscles. You seized Sihtric's hand, which hung hesitantly in the air, and pulled him along with you, striding towards the trees at the edge of the clearing. He followed, eyes wide with surprise but offering no resistance.

You plunged into the forest, not stopping until the battlefield's clearing had long vanished from view, leaving behind all its chaotic sounds. Silence, you needed silence—to quiet your racing mind. 

A startled crow fluttered away, its caw echoing through the trees and your ears. Coming to a halt, you turned to face the utterly bewildered gaze of Sihtric. Pushing him against the nearest tree trunk, your fingers frantically fumbled with the laces of his breeches.

"What... what are you doing?" he gasped, as your hand slipped inside his pants.

"Feeling alive," you whispered, a mischievous smile appearing on your lips as you felt his cock hardening under your touch. 

You had grown tired of those lingering glances and deep sighs, of him becoming more like your shadow than even Uhtred's. You had had enough of his trembling fingers and flushed cheeks, his hand brushing against yours when you passed him an ale mug, and the way he held his breath when you sat beside him, your thighs touching. 

You wanted him, and you were aware that he craved for you just as intensely. You could feel his blood running hot at this very moment, just as yours did. You had seen it in his eyes, in that brief, fleeting moment after he helped you back to your feet, and you didn't want to wait any longer. You knew him too well by now to realise he wouldn't make the first move, so you had to be the one.

"I... I can't... we can't... Oh, damn it...," Sihtric stammered, a loud, almost desperate moan escaping his lips as you pulled down his breeches, freeing his already fully hard cock,  wrapping your hand around it and giving it a few slow, teasing strokes. 

“Don’t tell me you haven’t been dreaming about this. I’m not blind. I can see how you look at me,” you purred, biting your lower lip, while your hand kept moving. 

"I... Oh gods, fuck... You're Uhtred's sister, and I... I... He'll kill me if..." The words caught in Sihtric's throat, his breathing quickening and growing more erratic, his hands balling into fists as your fingers moved to the tip of his pulsing shaft, collecting the precum and spreading it along its length.

“You just saved my life,” you murmured, going down on your knees before him and licking your lips at the sight of Sihtric’s long and thick, perfectly formed cock, tip slightly red and dripping, “and I haven’t even thanked you for stepping in that time in the dungeon.” 

Feeling Sihtric's entire body tense, you glanced up at him from beneath your lashes, savouring the sight of him. Head thrown back, eyes closed, breathing shallow and ragged, he leaned heavily against the tree, his arms hanging somewhat awkwardly by his sides. You were surprised that he still hadn't made a move to touch you.

"This isn't your first time, is it?" you suddenly inquired, raising an eyebrow. You smiled as Sihtric vigorously shook his head. "Good. Then you know what to expect, don't you? You know how good it feels," you teased him, pressing your mouth to his upper thigh, trailing a path with your tongue and placing soft, wet kisses on his naked skin. Sihtric exhaled sharply, but didn’t answer.

“Talk to me,” you ordered, giving a teasing, quick lick to the tip of his cock.

“Aaahhh, y-yes,” Sihtric whimpered, gasping for air, pressing both his palms against the tree.

“But you said, we couldn't do this. Have you changed your mind?” you asked, your tone taunting. “Tell me, do you want me to take you in my mouth? Do you want to feel my lips around you?” you circled his tip with your tongue, your hand jerking him, so teasingly slowly. You could tell you were driving him mad by the way, his breathing was picking up with each gentle lap of your wet and hot tongue and each movement of your hand.

You were aware that you were a brat, torturing him, testing his self-control, but you wanted to know how long he could hold back.You had seen his eyes glint with passion and fervour on the battlefield and you wanted to see them glint the same now. You wanted him to lose his composure and fully surrender to the pleasure you were eager to offer. 

"I don't hear you," you pulled back and released your hold on him, causing Sihtric to whine in frustration. 

“Yes, yes… fuck, by the gods… I… I want it … I want you…,” he breathed, a mortified look on his pretty face, his cheeks crimson, “I have wanted you since the first moment I saw you. You are so beautiful and so … so strong, but … fuck, ahhh, please, please touch me,” he whined. 

“Ask me nicely,” you purred, moving your mouth back closer to his throbbing cock.

“Please, just touch me again. Please, I need you …,” Sihtric begged, his voice shaky, a slight desperation creeping in it. He was finally looking down at you as he reached out, cupping your chin with his rough tattooed fingers, his thumb gliding over your lips, eyes darkening with lust and longing. 

You kept your gaze locked with him as you bit your bottom lip and wrapped your fingers around his  length again.

“Good, you are such a good boy. Just relax and enjoy. Can you do that for me, handsome? I want you to feel good,” you purred, a satisfied smile on your lips as you heard Sihtric gasp and whimper at your touch.

Sihtric moaned loudly as your lips closed around the tip of his cock, your tongue lapping at it teasingly, and then you moved up taking him in your mouth almost completely. You sucked gently at first, then harder, relishing the soft whines and moans rolling over Sihtric’s lips as your head started to move up and down his length, your palm firmly around the base, stroking the part that didn’t fit in. 

Sihtric’s hands were in your hair, not pulling or tugging, just holding on to you, gently and carefully, his trembling fingers caressing you, brushing your hair out of your face. He looked so sweet trying to keep his eyes on you, trying to keep still. You moaned, feeling his grip in your hair tensing, as you fastened your movements, wrapping your lips even tighter around his cock, watching him lose his uneven struggle. It didn’t take long for him to become a whimpering, moaning mess, his hips thrusting forward, eyes half lid, breath heavy and panting as he finally lost himself in the pleasure your mouth was giving him.

“It feels so good…,” he moaned, as his hips started to move faster, fucking your mouth harder and deeper, his eyes rolling in the back of his head as he chased his release, the grip of his fingers in your hair tightening, “I’m close… aaahhh, I can’t take it much longer! Slow down… stop … please, let me … ” he whined through his panting breath, looking down at you questioningly, but you kept sucking him like your life would depend on it, tears bursting into the corners of your eyes, moaning lewdly your mouth stuffed with his cock as your core throbbed in burning need for him. 

You loved the desperate, wanton sounds rolling over his lips, the sight of him falling apart, all shaky and whiny, his limbs starting to tremble, because you made him feel so good, because you had this power over him. You and only you!  You didn’t let go of him, didn’t allow him to pull out and after a few more sloppy thrusts, his cock twitched in your mouth, his head snapped back and with a loud moan Sihtric was spilling down your throat, cursing under his breath.

“Oh gods… fuck…,”  Sihtric looked down at you, breathing heavily and slumping his back against the tree. You let him come down from his high, sucking gently and letting your tongue slide over his sensitive tip, making him moan and twitch a few more times. 

Breath panting, Sihtric reached out to you, pulling you off your knees into his embrace as he buried his nose in the crook of your neck, his fingers gently brushing through your hair.

"I...," he began.

"Shh, don't speak," you interrupted him, leaning into his embrace and listening to his racing heartbeat beneath your ear. "Can you hear it?" you asked, placing your hand on his chest. "It's beating; you are alive. Isn't it wonderful to be alive?"

A deep sigh escaped Sihtric as he continued to hold you to his chest, his body quivering slightly. "Why are you so good to me?" he finally asked, cupping your face with his hands and lifting it to meet his questioning gaze.

"Because you are good, Sihtric," you whispered. "I have seen the goodness in you, I have felt it, and I want to be a part of it. I want to be yours."

"You want to be mine?" The surprise in Sihtric's voice was evident, his large, beautiful eyes reflecting the disbelief that his tone betrayed. He couldn't bring himself to believe it. After a lifetime of being resented and despised for who he was, he simply couldn't accept what you were saying.

"Yes, I do. Do you want to be mine?" you asked, taken aback by the quiver in your own voice. The silence lingered in the air as you awaited his response. You had finally found him, a man you were certain you wanted in your life not just for fleeting moments of pleasure but for a lifetime. Someone you had come to admire and wished to care for, someone from whom you wanted to receive care. His kindness and inner strength had captured your heart in an unexpected way. You felt certain that in Sihtric you had found a man who possessed the strength and warmth to fill that dark void in your chest.

"I'm already yours," Sihtric murmured, "I'm yours. I've always been yours," he repeated more resolutely, leaning in to capture your lips in the gentlest and most tender of kisses. Without breaking the kiss, Sihtric spun you around, pressing your body against the tree, and a soft gasp escaped your lips as you felt his already firm arousal pressing against your thigh.

"If you are mine, then I'm allowed to make you feel good too," he purred. "Will you be a good girl for me?" he asked, his bashful smile turning into a mischievous gleam in his eyes as he went down on his knees before you.

[anangelwhodidntfall]

You Could’ve Died: Tonowari

Avatar Masterlist 

word count: 800

Request:  tonowari x reader: Maybe the reader is a great warrior and has a near-death experience that scares tf out of her mate and kids

The second you heard that your kids were in danger from defending a Tulkan, you wasted no time in grabbing your spears and following Jake and Neytiri as someone went to find your husband and tell him what was going on. You climbed on your Skimwing and followed Jake out to where the demon shop was, where you saw your kids tied up making your hiss, as your kids were your entire world and if something happened to them, you would never forgive yourself.

You dove underwater and swam around to the backside of the ship and climbed aboard, where Jake's kids saw you and you motioned for them to be quiet as you ran up and cut the first guy's neck before untying them.

"Go to your parents' now." You said to them as they thanked you.

You continued to make your way through the ship killing each one of these people who dared take any of the children. Your husband arrived at the scene worried about his kids and you, but he knew that once the kids were in danger, these guys stood no chance. He watched as one of the guys aimed a gun at you while you were untying your daughter, so he threw his spear, killing him instantly as you turned and smiled at him.

"Thank you." You mouthed to him as he smiled at you as you finished untying your daughter.

"Let's go, Mama!" Your daughter said pulling on your arm as you saw that Jake and Neytiri were still struggling.

"Mama she right, we should get out of here." Tsierya said to you.

"Go to your father. Jake and Neytiri need my help. I'll be right behind you. I love you." You said to them as you placed a kiss on each of their heads.

Your husband couldn't understand what you were doing until he saw you helping the sully's and sent your daughters home which they didn't like knowing that both of their parents were in danger but he couldn't leave you.

You both helped the sully's rescue their kids and fight off the RDA. You were getting ready to leave when you saw Quaritch aim his gun at Neyetam, and without a second thought, you pushed him out of the way, feeling the bullet pierce your skin.

"NO!" Tono screamed watching you fall, as he swam over to where you were.

"Check for an exit wound!" Jake said as he swam over to where you two were, Tono lifted you and let out a sigh of relief when he didn't see one.

"There isn't one." He said holding you in his arms.

"We need to get that bullet out of her skin, as soon as possible." Jake said to Tono who nodded his head.

"Tono my love is that you?" You asked sleepily reaching for your husband's hand.

"Yeah, it's me, my love. Your gonna be okay, we're gonna get you some help, okay?" He said as you nodded your head.

By the time you guys returned back home, you were out cold as Tonowari carried you to the healer's tent to get help, and your kids became worried when they saw him carrying your unconscious body.

"OUT! ALL OF YOU!" The healer screamed as Tonowari took his kids outside of the tent, promising that you were gonna be okay, even if he wasn't sure himself.

It was about three hours later when the healers finally came out and said that they removed the bullet and you were now sleeping. Your husband walked into the tent and smiled at the sight of you sleeping and breathing. He placed a kiss on your forehead and took a seat next to you and held your hand until the healers kicked him out for the night.

"Daddy wake up, mama's awake." Your youngest daughter said shaking him.

"Come on dad, wake up. Mom's asking for you." A'onung said groaning as he tried waking him up earning a groan from him.

"Alright, I'm up!" He said as your children dragged or attempted to over to the healer's tent where you and Tsierya were at.

Your husband smiled when he saw you sitting up and holding your daughter, you sent him a smile back as your other two children came running over to you.

"Took you long enough." You said to him as he placed a kiss on your lips.

"Glad to see your awake, how are you feeling?" He asked you lacing his hand with yours.

"My shoulder hurts a bit but other than I feel fine. How are you guys doing?" You asked him.

"Better now that your awake, we were all a mess after what you did." He said to you making you sigh.

"I'm sorry I just couldn't let something happen to Neyetam, all I kept thinking if what was one of our kids, and they were in our situation." You said looking at him.

"I know you couldn't. I just can't imagine a world without you in it." Tonowari said kissing your hand.

"Good thing, you don't have to, my love." You said squeezing his hand with a smile.

[innerfare]

Captain Kid Piercing Your Nipples - Part 2 

Summary: Captain Kid fulfills your request

Pairing: Eustass Kid x Afab!Reader

Genre: not exactly smut but not exactly fluff

CW: nothing explicit but pretty suggestive

Word Count: 919

The next night, you found yourself back in Kid’s workshop with a bottle of whiskey. You sat on his main worktable, the bottle between your thighs. You had discarded your favorite leather jacket on the bench you sometimes curled up on while he worked, but you had yet to remove another layer. 

You fiddled with your stockings, pushing your fingers through the holes- Kid was to blame for most of them. When he wanted to kiss you somewhere, he would tear through any amount of fabric to get to your skin. Feral animal was correct, you decided, though you could only think those two words with love. 

You loved your feral animal. 

Lifting the whiskey bottle to your lips, you took another good swig. The liquid burned going down, but your tolerance had increased significantly since you joined the crew. 

“That’s enough,” said Kid, taking the bottle from you and swallowing a few good gulps himself. “I don’t want you too numb to the pain.” 

You rolled your eyes before your gaze fell on the needle in his hand. 

“Well?” He raised an eyebrow. 

You looked down at the barbells he had picked out for you in the local town’s market. It had seemed like a good idea, but looking at the long metal rods made you second guess yourself, not that you were going to tell Kid that. He would never respect you for backing out, certainly not when the stakes were so low. It was just a silly needle, and Kid would be in control of it the entire time. 

You pulled your shirt off, no bra to speak of. 

Kid watched you with hungry eyes. He drank in the sight of you topless to the backdrop of his workshop, one of his favorite sights in the world. Your smooth, clean skin juxtaposed with the heavy metal and engine grease was one of the things he got himself off to when you weren’t around to help him, one of the things he had imagined when you first joined his crew but had yet to become his. 

His eyes fell on your nipples, erect in the chilly night air. 

He was almost disappointed they were already erect- almost. 

“Hmm,” he said, needle in hand. “Looks like you need some help.” He reached out and flicked your left nipple, trying to hide his grin when a small whine escaped your lips. “What is it, spider? Don’t like me doing my job?” 

“Don’t be mean about it.” 

He just grunted and flicked it a few more times. Unsatisfied, he pinched it between two of his fingers and rolled it around, squeezing at his leisure. He savored the sounds falling from your lips, drank in the sight of you wiggling on his worktable and pressing your thighs together. 

“See,” he teased. “I told you that you’re too sensitive.” 

“I am not!” You snapped. “You know, Kid, if I knew you were going to be an asshole about it, I would have just paid someone-” You choked on your words as he swooped down and took your nipple into his mouth, giving it a hard bite before sucking on it. Your hands fell to his head, your fingers tangling in his red hair. 

You whimpered like the weak girl you insisted you weren’t. It should have been a quick ordeal, painful but not overly so. Kid dragged it out, licking circles around your nipple like he had no choice, like any professional would have done the same. And when he finished, he placed a sweet kiss on your nipple. 

“That’s a good girl,” he said, needle in hand. “Just hold still for me.” 

The needle passed through quickly and seamlessly, like a knife slicing through warm butter. Still, it hurt like a bitch, and you gritted your teeth in a poor attempt to avoid calling out. 

“Poor thing,” Kid teased, stringing the first barbell into your nipple. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the little nub, all irritated and red from him. “Don’t worry, spider. We’re halfway done, and then we can get you some candy for being a good girl.” 

“Shut up, Kid. Just do the other one already.” You braced yourself in preparation for him to torment your other nipple just as he did the first, but he skipped the teasing and sent the needle straight through, stringing the second barbell into your nipple. It brought tears to your eyes, but you managed to hold them back, a sense of triumph coursing through you. 

Or maybe that was just the adrenaline.  

Kid sat back and admired his handy work. He’d pierced quite a few body parts over the years, the go to for his crew members, but he’d never gotten to pierce a girl’s nipples before. And to pierce yours was a privilege, not that he would ever tell you just how seriously he took it. The sight of those barbells in your nipples felt to him like he’d left a permanent hickey on your neck, his way of telling the world, and particularly any man who managed to get you out of your shirt, that you were already taken. 

“Perfect,” he muttered, placing a kiss on each nipple. He nuzzled between your breasts, a feral animal that had stopped barring his fangs for the briefest of moments. “Absolutely perfect.” You wrapped your arms around him, tangling your fingers in his hair again. You placed a kiss on top of his head. “Thank you, Kid.” 

He grunted in response.  

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[mikareo]

⌗ SEASONS OF LOVE ₊ ˖ ་. a 呪術廻戦 miniseries

“ ࣭⸰ ★ SERIAL ROMANTIC ; gojo satoru x fem reader ⠀ ꒰ . . episode one ! ꒱ . . . word count; 1.2k ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ᯇ remember when we first met?

⊹ ⠀⠀ you might possibly be the least helpful person in the world when it comes to making a hinge profile...gojo can attest to that.

contains; gojo satoru x fem reader, university (year 2) au, fluff, gojo's a dick, swearing, best friends to lovers, love triangle

⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀pm or send ask to join/be removed from taglist,, ⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀link to miniseries masterlist

"y'know, i'd appreciate it if you could help at least a little bit."

gojo can feel your hard glare targeting him, piercing into his skull like a red laser beam, yet still chooses to ignore you. he doesn't understand why you can't just finish unpacking later. you're kind of being a buzzkill. yes, he'd be a better friend if he continued to help you unpack your boxes and organize your cluttered dormitory; but he's got more important things to do. things that require his complete and utmost attention. things that are life or death on a college campus. things that will make or break his entire young adult experience...

...things like finishing his hinge profile!

"i promise— wait no. i pinky promise i'll put all of your shit away later, just tell me which photos to pick for this prompt, i'm stuck." he's begging and pleading for you to focus on him, which isn't unusual when dealing with a narcissist such as himself. c'mon. c'mon. gojo knows exactly how to win you over. it really isn't that hard. all he has to do is beg and whine a little, give you some puppy dog eyes, and you'll do whatever he says! there's no way he's actually going to put all of your clothes away; that'll take like...forever.

with an eye roll in response to the cheer of joy gojo lets out, you set your boxes to the side and lay beside him on the carpet. he can feel your nose tickling his neck as you lean close to see his screen, and he wonders why his heart skips a beat. eh, it's probably nothing.

"this is so dumb, satoru." you point to his screen, your finger directed at his favorite prompt so far.

don't hate me if i: have blue eyes

"okay, wait!" he flicks your forehead, laughing as you pout, and clicks on the 'add image' prompt. "it's like a thing now! girls hate guys with baby blues like mine!" being handsome is so hard nowadays.

if he asked anyone at jujutsu university who the biggest player on campus is, they'd name him off without blinking twice. while only being a freshman last year, gojo managed to become a household (or a dorm-hold?) name that'll be talked about for years after he graduates. there may be a possibility he's either flirted or made out with every girl in his graduating class, not including you, all in one school year. without the use of dating apps, he went on a total of eighty-seven first dates from august to june; albiet seeing a few girls more than a few times for some special alone time, if you get what he means; and he had the absolute time of his life and needs to recreate that thrill again.

"you don't need an app to get girls, you get plenty already."

ugh why do you always have to rain on his parade?

"obviously i don't need an app, but it's way more fun this way." he argues, "imagine if i hit a hundred first dates before may. i'd break last year's record."

"and why are you getting so butt-hurt about my dating life?" he's treading into dangerous territory. the two of you never talk about your romantic experiences, considering you never want to talk about them with him. "it's not my fault you had a total of...hm what was it? zero dates last year?"

"just find a fucking photo and get this over with."

yeah, your love life is off limits...

a chuckle rumbles from his throat as gojo continues scrolling through his camera roll, searching for a photo that screams 'boyfriend material'...or to be more specific 'one night stand material'. while he's searching for a photo that'll make girls want to sleep with him, he doesn't notice that his brightest smiles only appear in the photos with you. then again, he never notices you; and if he ever did, it's unlikely he'd date you anyways. you're his best friend. he doesn't want to ruin that. he can't ruin that, because then he'd have to imagine a life without you in it.

a particular picture stands out from the rest, and you choose to point it out. it's the two of you in your high school uniforms, standing side-by-side beneath the cherry blossoms after your third year graduation ceremony. his hair is slightly shorter and his height hadn't reached its full potential yet, but you look absolutely adorable— almost like a kitten that he's protecting from the no-good boys of the world (technically he belongs in that category, but that's besides the point).

"do you remember when we first met?" a soft hum is murmured in his ear and gojo finds the sound quite comforting.

he thinks for a moment, completely blanking as the memory escaped his mind, and takes a random guess. "middle school? english class?"

the look of disappointment on your face immediately tells him he's wrong.

"look it was a really long time ago, i know that at least." no amount of excuses will make up for his awful recollection, but he tries nonetheless. gojo satoru is a shitty friend. that's just how it is. you both know it and he tries his best to be better for you, however, he can't help the way he is. some boys are born to be boys. "i'm trying my best—"

"it's alright, just stop."

you're so upset.

"there are more important things to remember, really it's fine."

why are you so upset?

"i'm sorry," he mumbles. this feeling of guilt isn't familiar to gojo and he can't help but hate it. "i'll try to remember."

what is it that you were trying to reminisce about? he wants to know but he shouldn't pry any more, you're clearly done with the conversation and want to move on with a concentrated thinking face gracing your features. you look pretty. woah. you look really pretty. he's never thought that before. why hasn't he noticed before? suddenly, the thought of however many hinge girls want him isn't very appealing and he just wants to make you smile again. you're so pretty when you smile. his heart is beating ten times faster than usual and he's urging it to calm down, but it won't.

...maybe that's a good thing, though.

⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀pm or send ask to join/be removed from taglist,, ⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀link to miniseries masterlist

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⊹₊｡ reblogs are greatly appreciated! ˚₊⊹