#cw slave mention

[campgender]

“Interlude 3” from The New Topping Book (2003) by Dossie Easton & Janet W. Hardy

A role-play scene, played by "Akasha, " a novice top friend.

I woke up with great difficulty and realized my mind was full of thoughts of domination, weird fantasies about devices that I did not own but wished I did. I thought of my friend Richard, and a wonderful night we had shared many months before.

I called him and found him still in bed. I said, "God, I am really having a problem today."

He shifted in his sheets, I could hear it, and said, "Hungry?"

I was doodling, cracking pencil leads and then throwing them away.

"Yes," I said, and I was sort of half shaking, just wanting to make him beg on the phone, make him get out of his warm bed and kneel down, make him whimper, do anything. But I wanted more, so I held back and asked him to see me.

He half moaned and sighed, yawned again, and told me he had class that night. I told him to meet me afterward. He paused, and I felt like I was going to die.

"Richard, please. I'm going crazy. Do this for me, OK?"

"You want to hurt me?" he said softly, making me face it. This was back when it was still hard for me to accept that I enjoyed making men suffer.

It's difficult to describe what a day like that feels like, waiting for the hours to go by, trying to concentrate on work, going one step at a time.

When I am in that mindframe I can smell everything in the air, I can feel mist against my face in the cold air. The moon is more illuminated, the sound of my feet in puddles as I walk somehow thrills me with a feeling of authority.

I arrived at the cafe a few minutes early and waited in the lobby. Richard arrived a few minutes late. When I stood up and hugged him he laughed softly into my ear, "How're you doing?" I just moaned and started fingering his hair, tugging at it a little. We parted and I looked at him again, blinking. I felt weak, numb. I wanted to take him by the hair and force him to his knees. Instead I said weakly, "You probably haven't eaten yet. Can I buy you dinner?"

When his food arrived I stole his silverware and he laughed. "I'm serious," I told him in a low voice. "I am feeding you this entire meal." His eyes searched around the room and he lowered his voice, "Come on, people will see. We can take care of you when we get home. Let me eat."

Any other night I wouldn't think twice about him eating dinner across from me. But in that mood, on that night, I wanted to be the one feeding him. I wanted to make him part his lips each time I lifted the spoon. I wanted to make him beg with his eyes for more, or look at me longingly. Or I wanted to force him to do it.

I leaned over the table and we argued a bit about it, finally compromising in that I would feed him the first few bites and then let him finish. Knowing that he hated doing it but would submit to it for a few minutes was enough for now.

When we got into my room he sat on the edge of my bed then finally lay down, spreading his arms out and sighing tiredly. I slid down and moved on top of him, moving my hands up to his wrists and holding them down there. His eyes flickered open and he stared at me expressionlessly, waiting.

I consider it true, deep headspace when I am capable, without hesitation, of exercising acts of cruelty or power as if they were second nature. These are things that I would never do in a normal state of mind. On that night I slipped into it relatively easily, maybe because I had been lingering around the edges of it for so long.

I set up a series of short scenes, because my appetite was varied and I wanted to satisfy it all. Sometimes I want total resistance, sometimes I want fear, sometimes I want pathetic, eager submission. That night I wanted them all.

I used every single restraint device on him that I had, in every position I could imagine. I kept a hand over his mouth most of the night and wrestled him to the ground three or four different times, ordering him to feign resistance until I hurt him into submitting.

I roleplayed kidnapping him, interrogating him, seducing him, and fucking him. I had an orgasm just from the way he felt against me as I took him against his will, one hand holding his head back by a fistful of hair and the other over his mouth to muffle his protests.

For the grand finale I put him in my chair and handcuffed his wrists behind his back, taking my wall mirror down and putting it behind him ,so I could see his wrists and enjoy the way they looked while still facing him. "I put water in his hair to simulate sweat and messed it up, tied his ankles together, and told him I was going to kill him.

He put his head down solemnly and I walked around a bit, touching his skin gently, telling him how pretty and helpless he looked. He shifted, and struggled uselessly, then lifted his head to me and looked at me with his teeth clenched, saying "You have to let me go. Don't do this to me."

I leaned down and held his face in my hands, putting my lips close to his, licking them gently. "Kiss me goodbye, my tortured slave." He shut his eyes and leaned forward to kiss me, hungry, passionate, as if to seduce me with his mouth and tongue. This kiss was long, desperate, and when I broke from it he was breathing hard.

His eyes were pleading, yet strong. "I'm not afraid to die," he said softly.

He always knew the things to say. He was begging, yet he was strong. He was submitting, but he was still powerful. He amazed me.

We had played these execution scenes before so I didn't need to give him any instruction. He was to pretend he had about three minutes left to live, locked in some airtight chamber or given some poisonous gas, and he was to struggle yet remain brave until the moment I came to save him from his fate.

And he really knew how to play it. Perfectly, yet differently every time. The way he pulled at the handcuffs, letting them cut into his wrists as if it didn't matter,. The way he threw his head back to breathe with such pained difficulty, the way he looked at me through wet bangs with desperation, his lashes damp with tears.

I felt so close to orgasm, but it was a different sort of satisfaction. I just watched, emotionless, as his struggles became weaker and his breathing more labored.

Then it hit me, at once, it was like a sensual overload, like an orgasm but of the mind. I shivered, I felt a cold sweat on my body and suddenly I wanted to cry, I thought, "God, what am I doing to him?" I unfastened him quickly and slid into his arms, shaking, telling him I was sorry. He laughed softly into my ear and told me it was okay, that he was acting, and that I needn't feel bad.

But feeling bad makes me feel better, so I spent some time crying, letting him reassure me. We lay down in the bed together and eventually fell asleep after I had sufficient reassurance.

Waking up the next morning I felt a different kind of exhaustion. It's impossible to explain how much dom headspace rips the energy right out of you. Sometimes it takes me days to recover.

[todrawblood]

on tulin de riva's tattoos/markings in order & the perception of them.

branding  of  house  balazar  above  his  right  ankle  that  he  received  at  five  years  old.  it's  not  a  tattoo,  it  was  a  hot  metal  branding.  he  hardly  remembers  the  day  he  got  it,  he  just  know  it  hurt  and  it  was  done  with  force.

a  tattoo  of  house  de  riva  on  his  calf  that  he  willingly  got  done  at  12  years  old.  it  symbolizes  his  loyalty  to  the  house  —  something  that  reminds  him  he  could  finish  training  even  on  the  worst  days.  that  he  could  be  a  good  crow,  that  he  wouldn't  be  killed  off.

at  18,  he  gets  the  large  tattoo  that  wraps  around  his  left  leg/thigh.  from  antivan  it  translates  to  silent  death.

at  20,  roach  commissions  the  sleeve  on  his  left  arm  by  a  well-known  artist.  that  same  years  he  gets  another  —  a  dagger  in  the  middle  of  his  upper  back,  nearing  the  right  shoulder.

at  21  he  gets  his  last  tattoo,  just  before  he's  banished  out  of  antiva  for  the  antaam  accident.  it's  a  half  sleeve  that  covers  his  deltoid.  on  it  are  two  crows  in  half-flight  and  a  full  moon.  around  the  main  composition  is  blackout  that  wraps  around  his  muscled  arms.  the  tattoo  ends  somewhere  around  his  elbow  —  with  the  crows'  wing  feathers.  main  ref.

it  is  likely  those  will  be  all  his  crow  tattoos  with  no  new  additions.  in  my  main  verses  he  is  inclined  to  deserting  the  fractions.  in  that  case,  his  last  tattoo(s)  will  be  dedicated  to  his  life-long  partner.  it'd  likely  be  something  around  his  wrist  to  remind  him  of  what  matters  in  his  life,  who  he  kills  and/or  strives  to  survive  for.

oh  myyy  goddd,  mor,  we  didn't  ask  for  this...  well,  let  me  talk  about  what  tattoos  mean  for  tulin.

obviously,  his  first  marking  is  the  one  he  gets  against  will  in  house  balazar.  that  sets  a  precedent  for  his  body  and  for  what  it  carries.  he's  marked  to  show  he  belongs  to  something.  he  learns  he's  not  the  master  of  his  life.  later  it'd  serve  to  show  other  people  who  he  is  and  what  he  does  for  as  long  as  he  lives.  it's  an  ugly  thing,  it's  something  that  has  scarred  him  as  it  shaped  how  he  perceives  himself.  he's  one  of  many  others  and  thus  he  must  prove  to  be  worthy.

he  hates  the  sight  of  the  balazar  marking,  as  he  deeply  hates  anything  connected  to  his  first  guild.  the  red  scarred  skin  enrages  him,  so  he  tries  to  ignore  it  and  not  address  it  if  it  is  ever  noticed.

tattoos  are  on  his  body  to  reaffirm  his  status  as  a  killing  machine,  a  crow.  before  the  veilguard,  it  is  the  only  thing  he's  known  in  his  life,  his  only  purpose,  thus  he's  never  been  ashamed  of  it.  the  older  crows  he's  looked  up  to  have  tattoos  in  visible  places,  so  that  they're  easily  recognized.  he  used  to  think  a  good  crow  must  have  a  telltale  tattoo.

now  let's  just  consider  the  majority  of  crows  have  loyalty  to  their  house  and  profession  literally  beaten  into  them.  it  is  not  earned,  but  after  such  torture,  to  survive  you  must  act  with  devotion.  it's  trauma  and  deeply  rooted  fear  to  turn  around  and  bite.  as  we  know,  majority  of  crows  never  manage  to  break  out  of  this,  as  they  keep  talking  about  their  forever  loyalty  and  eventually  meet  their  deaths  early.  all  of  it  is  learned.  but  tattoos,  are  forever  marks  —  just  like  the  scars  from  torture  —  and  they  speak  of  a  crow's  devotion  to  their  lifestyle.

none  of  the  tattoos  on  his  body  hold  real  sentimental  value.  they  are  small  victories  in  his  career,  though.  just  proof  that  he  took  pride  in  being  a  crow.  eventually  that  is  turned  around.

when/if  he  deserts  the  crows,  he  begins  to  regret  having  them.  he  thinks  he  was  too  short-sighted  to  get  them  and  to  believe  his  fate  was  solely  being  a  crow.  he  never  saw  how  fate  would  hit  him  (becoming  rook),  but  the  ink  in  his  skin  remains  even  when  he  reforms.  to  me  it's  another  symbol  —  he  will  never  be  able  to  fully  be  rid  of  the  crows  and  what  they  taught  him.  the  point  of  him  leaving  is  to  find  a  better  life  purpose  —  something  more  fulfilling,  but  it  will  never  not  include  killing.

really,  the  tattoos  aren't  special.  i'd  even  argue  there  is  certain  pressure  into  getting  them  among  the  crows.

are  the  tattoos  sexy?  yes,  generally  he  thinks  they  make  him  somewhat  more  attractive.  i'm  led  to  believe  tattoos  are  not  a  very  casual  thing  in  thedas,  at  least  not  the  meaningless/decorative  ones.  if  his  partners  like  them,  then  he  has  nothing  against  it.  great,  objectify  him.  it's  not  like  they  can  be  removed.  hopefully  they  forever  remind  the  person  he's  with  how  he's  been  raised.  you  can't  take  the  crow  out  of  him.

the  last  tattoo,  for  his  partner,  is  also  not  a  full-on  sentimental  symbol.  it's  another  mark  of  undying  devotion.  carrying  a  morsel,  a  reminder  of  them  on  his  body  is  the  same  as  the  crows  tattoos,  there  is  just  a  different  attachment  to  them.  if  you  want  me  to  talk  specifics,  dependent  on  our  ship,  just  ask  me.

i've  been  saying  that  as  a  crow,  he  will  always  need  to  belong  to  someone.  that  is  something  he  craves  unconsciously.  to  know  he  serves,  he's  useful,  he's  accomplished  in  his  servitude...  i'll  cut  this  here,  because  that  is  a  whole  another  post...  on  his  fucked  up  psychology...

[syn0vial]

so convenient for me that the bad guys in this game keep giving astarion perfectly IC reasons to murder their asses

[mcondance]

while i love tct i will say that the criticism of it being quite close to trauma porn is extremely valid.

[undf]

Dior and Hevann lore, Diots side.

^ ^ This is the house where Diot grew up and Hevann was born. It is located on Dalna in the swamp lands.

Not long after the fall of the empire, Diot goes to Dalna to see if it is still standing, not really expecting it to still be there since it's been abandoned for around 25 years. But it still stands through earthquakes and rainstorms. it is mostly decrepit and a few rodent families living there but he is determined to have this place livable again. All their stuff is still there from when they left; Hevann's baby clothes, Diot's toys, unopened mail, and even some of their mother's jewelry stayed put. But the one thing that breaks Diot is finding the kalikori half broken on the floor. they didn't leave in a hurry, they were going to visit some of Mum's friends on Ryloth when the salvers took them.

Diot isn't in slavery as long as Hevann. he makes it out mostly because he wasn't much of an asset in any area the trade put him in because he was a drug addict and half-human. He wasn't worth much compared to Hevann. He told himself that Hevann was sold to a nice family and no longer needed him. but hearing a couple of slave wranglers on Ord-Mentell years back, when he first joined the rebellion, made the logical truth hit him like a freit ship.

"Sir, this one's a bit small don't ya think?" he hears from the slavers, a sigh of momentary relief before his blood ran cold "It'll grow."

those two words made his stomach drop out his ass hole and shoot back up into his throat. (yes he did find a way to get that kid away from the slavers)

how they got into the trade

The day the slavers came was the scariest day of either of their lives, for obvious reasons, but the Karazak are a ruthless bunch. their reputation for enslaving entire villages is infamous, and that's exactly what happened that day.

Thinking back is hard for Diot, as life starts to slow down after the fall of the empire he thinks about the years he wasted on booze and drugs, he'd had times of sobriety where things were nice but there were gaps in his memory where his addiction took center stage. unfortunately, all the drugs and alcohol never erased the memory of that night. Eme'tes finally asked one day while they sat on the dock.

"We'd been on Ryloth for a few days, staying with Momma's friend Aunti A'la and her wife. we went out playing with our cousins in the dunes, we weren't allowed to be out there but we went anyway. by the time we were coming back through the valley, there was so much smoke, we all ran back to see what was happening thinking it was just a house fire praying it wasn't anyone we knew." Eme'tes holds her husband's hand seeing the pain in his eyes as he tells this story. "everything was destroyed, a pile of bodies in the town center burning, all 5 of us were snatched and they put lek bands on us, we stood in a group till their ship came. I just stared at Momma's gold bracelet sticking out of that pile, melting off her wrist. Hevann tugged on my leku winning to get me up, he didn't talk for 3 years. I thanked the gods every day they let us stay together, I don't think I'd be here otherwise." Azreen jumped into his lap, wet from swimming was a welcome interruption.

The best parts of his life that he can remember being sober are with Hevann, the day He told Diot about their gender, the day they got matching tattoos, and the last time they saw each other crying in the dirty alleyway on the streets of Coruscant underbelly.

[mdsbabygirl]

Hello! I love your work, I just read “Being their fuckbuddy,” and I’m hooked. I was wondering if you would make a part 2 where the reader/you call things off and they realize that they’ve actually caught some feelings? It’s alright if you don’t want to! I’m a total sucker for angst lol.

Ofc my lovely anon!! I'll be more than glad to do that! Here's part two of "being their fuckbuddy". btw don't be shy to make requests, they make me really happy and I'm more than willing to write them!

Please baby.. don't let go of me yet...

PART TWO OF "Being their fuckbuddy"

Pairing: Otoya Eita/ Itoshi Sae/ Bachira Meguru/ Shidou Ryusei/ Chigiri Hyoma/ Barou Shoei x FEM! reader

Synopsis: when you end up walking out of your "relationship", these men feel empty inside, finally realizing that their lust has indeed turned into something much deeper.

Genre: smut, angst

Wc: 3,3k

Cw: dark themes, MDNI, mentions of makeup sex, very depressed men, semi-public sex(Otoya, Barou), crying messes(Bachira, Chigiri), nonchalant fuckers(Sae, Barou), black mail/threatening/ humiliation (Shidou), stalking(meguru), womanizer(otoya), these men are very much Inlove with you, etc..

Otoya Eita:

•"yeah, I'm fine with it" he said, his tone as casual as possible. He knew your relationship wasn't going to last long, and it was part of the thrill he felt when he was with you. But when the parting time finally came, he didn't feel right. He thought he could just move on, quickly forgetting you and your shared moments to focus on the next girl he was going to pull.. but no, not this time. Otoya was very confused, why was he suddenly getting emotional? Why was he starting to feel uneasy, a surging pain in his stomach made him feel awful, as if he got repeatedly punched in the abdomen, all while he was looking at you in the far distance.  You, the one who made him feel like he could've reached heaven with how much pleasure he felt; you, the girl he always enjoyed spending time with because you were fun and interesting, you the one who got his heart.

•Eita was mad at first, why the fuck did it hurt so much? It's not like it was the first time he got a heartbreak, he'd usually just bury the pain with sex, fucking around with multiple women, until he forgot about everything, the pain eventually subsiding. And he tried, like, he tried really hard, going every night to nightclubs and having one nightstands with every woman he found somewhat hot.. the thing is, the sex was awful..it didn't feel right, it was dull and boring, as if all the feelings in his body were dead, making him unable to feel the slightest sparkle of excitement. He'd often ask himself, why was he like this? Why couldn't he just bounce back like before, going back to being the  destrous ninja of seduction he once was.. even all the women he had picked were somewhat of a close replica to you, all sharing common attributes that you had.. I guess you are really unreplaceable..

•that, was his situation for a while, being the slave of a non ending vicious circle of sex, alcohol and depression. That was, until he finally saw you at one of the clubs he frequented. It's like his world lit up, transforming from a dark nightmare to the sweetest of dreams. His eyes widened in surprise, not expecting to meet you at all, but there you were, looking ever so stunning, wearing your prettiest dress, and hypnotizing everyone with your looks. At first he froze, not knowing what to do. But then he decided that it was time to put an end to his misery, deciding it would be best to just confess to you, and tell you how much he had been yearning for you for the past weeks. You were quite stunned too, not only not expecting this sudden encounter, but also not even imagining that this womanizer would be pouring his heart out to you.. you smiled subtly, thinking his actions were cute, yet you were still indecisive, you didn't trust him enough, thinking he'd break your heart if you let him in, which was indeed why you left him. You started catching feelings, all this intimacy between the two of you sparking a growing love for the man. Eita, ever so happy, was quick to hug you, pressing soft kisses on your lips until they became more and more heated, leading the both of you to make out heatedly in the middle of the club. Then.. well let's just say you were way too needy for each other to wait to go home so instead you fucked in one of the bathroom stalls... His hand was pushing you onto the door, your tube top pushed down to reveal your tits that were squished against the cold surface, as Eita was behind you, rumming his rock hard cock relentlessly, like he'd always do..

Itoshi Sae:

•he had that cold, expressionless face he always had when it happened. You had invited him to talk, insisting it was best if it happened in person. He looked so stunning, his teal eyes, an amalgamation of the most serene blue sky and most captivating green seas, were a pool of alluring coolness. No matter how hard the news might've been, he never budged.. he just nodded, agreeing with your request for ending things. And that's how, you both just walked away, forgetting all the moments of your shared passion, as if you finished the last chapter of a boring book. But.. did he really find your fling boring? Was he really willing to just move on, as if nothing had happened?

•Sae was used to the solitude, he was a reservated person, not allowing anyone in his circle, and the fact that you managed to get in that close to him, must've meant something right?.. it couldn't have been just purely a give and receive link, it must've been much more than that. He was human after all, meaning that he must've felt the smallest shred of something, anything really, even if it was lust, hate or love. Sae was confused, not knowing how to act or what to feel. He just went back to being to his usual self, an egoist who only cares about his sacred soccer.. but if that's what he thought he did, then why couldn't he sleep at night? Why was his bed so empty all of a sudden? Why was he flipping through the pics you post on your socials? Did you really manage to plague his mind? Turning him from a cold hearted egoista, to a yearning lover, a man that needed your presence as much as he needed oxygen to survive.

•The nights felt long, unending hours of long lasting boredom and solitude, weighted down on Sae's mind. He wanted it to stop, needing this feeling of hollowness to be over. He tossed and turned in bed, unable to rest.. he took his phone, 2 AM.. great you might be sleeping he thought.. he looked intensely at your contact info on his screen, contemplating if calling you would be the right choice.. it was his first time being indecisive, he was always a confident man, always sure of himself and his actions; but this time he wasn't.. his hands trembling as he held the phone. In the end he said fuck It, deciding that going to your house was the best option.. once he arrived, he ringed the bell, waiting for you. When you came out, wearing your comfy pj's, and asking why he was here while yawning, he just grabbed your face and kissed you, not even wasting time on words. He led you inside, huffing out how much he missed you and how he can't be apart from you.. you couldn't give him a straight answer yet, but you still didn't deny him, inviting him in, keeping him all close and cozy, so warm and feeling heavenly as his big cock is buried deep inside your hot cunny.

Bachira Meguru:

•things between the two of you started getting a bit rocky, his possessiveness was too overwhelming. He was always by your side, his presence so suffocating that it left you drained both emotionally and physically. It was after one of your encounters that you decided to call things off. Bachira was panting heavily, his chest heaving as he came down from his high. He still was on top of you, looking down at you with his lovestruck look.. you kinda felt bad about what you were about to do, knowing how sad he'll be once you leave him. Meguru, tiredly laid beside you, looking at you before wrapping an arm around your naked figure..you were kinda starting to rethink your actions, thinking that maybe you could get used to his.. well, quirkiness? But you didn't, once Bachira announced something about wanting you to be fully his, you finally snapped. You quickly got up, getting your scattered up clothes and putting them on without saying a word.. you didn't wanna get even more mad, nor upset him with the bullshit you knew you were about to say if u really snapped. The man behind you, looking ever so struck by your sudden change in behavior grabbed you by the forearm, asking what happened.. oh man, you did snap at that time.. you started throwing insults at him,  telling him how suffocated you felt, before you gathered your stuff and left him alone in his apartment.

•To say that Bachira was shocked was an understatement. He couldn't believe what he heard.. he.. was suffocating? Was he really so frustrating and maddening like you just said? He didn't wanna believe this, thinking that maybe you just had a bad day, maybe you were mad at everyone and he just so happened to be the unlucky one to have to undergo such a shitty experience. But deep down he knew the truth. He knew that you entirely meant what you said, all those words hitting him like a poisonous dagger to the heart. He did everything for you, treated you like a princess, gave you constant attention, never once did he let you out of his sight.. he swore he was the best you could've ever had, the one and only who would worship you and treat you like the goddess you are.. yet, you left him. Like everybody else did. He should've been used to it by now, but fuck It hurt.. I guess that's why he felt hot globs of tears streaming down his face, his sobbing filling up the room. He really didn't deserve all this pain that you so hurtfully inflicted on him.

•after crying his heart out, he concluded that this wasn't the solution, deciding that if you weren't going to be willingly his , he was going to do it forcefully. Bachiras is known to have a dark side in him, a so-called monster that whispers the filthiest, most evil ideas in his mind. It was time to hear his alter-ego, using this demonic quirk of his to finally show you who you belong to, finally convincing you that he's your one and only. That's why, late at night he sneaked into your house..(he might've made a copy of your key without you noticing but Shhh) waiting for your arrival. As for you, you were getting home from work, unable to shake away the thought of how badly you treated Bachira. You wanted to apologize, but you were way too tired, so u decided that tomorrow you'll go to his place and make up with him. You unlocked your door, finally entering your home, when you saw Bachira laying all comfy on your sofa.. you were very much surprised, thinking that maybe it was because you were tired. Noticing you, meguru quickly went up to you, hugging you so tightly you could've swore you stopped breathing for a sec, before caressing your face, looking at you with a devilish gaze as he whispered in your ear, "you'll always be mine sweet thing!" Before pressing a wet kiss to your neck, "we're going to have so much fun tonight my love." He chuckled, his hands quickly finding your sides as he pressed his body flush against yours, the feeling of his hard-on on your lower abdomen.

Shidou Ryusei:

•ok..ummm, did I mention that this man is pure evil? Like he won't leave you so easily, never letting you slip from his grip without any consequences–this is if he ever let you go, because let's be honest, shidou would never ever let you dissapear from his life, letting your shared memories transforming into a mirage that would forever haunt him. He'd first laugh at you, thinking you weren't serious about calling things off. He'd wrap his arms around your frame, squeezing the plump skin of your butt, a nasty habit of his, telling you that it was a nice joke. But when you slapped him, telling him how much of a maniac he is and walking away, he was surprised. He didn't expect his ever obliging fwb, would have some personality.

•at first he'd let you go, still a bit startled from that whole ordeal, but then he'd start manically laughing, delving so deep down in his psychopathy that he might've become even more insane just from that.. He HAD to make you his, one way or another. He was totally convinced that you were just playing hard to get, or maybe into some kind of cat and mouse chasing thing.. maybe he could even use this dynamic for your next sexy sesh.. but that's for another time to discuss..

•shidou, just walked up to you, hugging you from behind, as if you were a lovey-dovey couple, just casually nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck and pressing wet kisses on the skin. You were startled for sure, not wanting any sort of contact with this devilish monster; yet, you couldn't deny his effect on you, a small pool of wetness forming between your legs, but you'll never let him know of course. Somehow, managing to push him off of you, you told him to go away, refusing any form of link to him. Chuckling, Ryusei pulled his phone, his large hands scrolling through his gallery until he found them... All your sex tapes, ready to be sent to everyone who knew you. Grinning devilishly, shidou blackmailed you, you got two choices, you were either to be completely humiliated or to come back to that psycho ... He pressed you, forcing you to choose quickly, otherwise he'd do what you dreaded most. In either way you'd lose your dignity, since being with such a freak had its downsides.. I guess you had no choice, but to forcefully get back with him.

"Mm yeah, that's more like it, my little cockwhore!" He grinned, as he was spreading your ass cheek, looking down at how his big cock was sinking deeply in your soaked folds, all while you were a moaning mess under him.. he's so demonic fr..

Chigiri Hyoma:

•chigiri knew he loved you, he knew for a long time now, always thinking about how he could change your mind, how to make you his gf.. he could've done so much for you, treating you like the queen you are, showing you unyielding affection... anything, he would've done anything for you.. yet, you rejected him. It stung like hell, the loneliness was catching up to him, and that mixed up with the sickening sadness and sorrow he felt was the most potent of poisons.

•He was alone on his bed, looking up at the ceiling as he was sobbing, warm tears streaming down his pretty face. Handsome faces shouldn't cry, you told him before you left, caressing his face one last time before you disappeared from his life. The mere thought of that agonizing moment sent Hyoma into another hysterical crying.. he couldn't believe he got so hypnotized by you that was reduced to this state. He knew you wanted nothing more than sex, he knew that what you had was ephemeral; yet he still couldn't accept the fact that he had lost you. The worst being the way you rejected him, smiling so reassuringly, so softly and so prettily, your face was imprinted in his mind. No matter how much he exhausted himself in training or drowned himself in alcohol, he couldn't forget you. How dare you break his heart in such a nonchalant way, reassuring him he'll find the one for him, even if you knew he had eyes only for you? You were so cruel, he thought.

•days passed since your splitting, and shit started weighing down on your consciousness.. I mean, you did realize that you broke his heart. With a sigh, you decided to stop thinking about him, recalling that all men were the same, all horny and unmannered, always making sexual jokes and treating you like some kind of fucktoy. That was the male treatment you were used to, so when you started frequenting Chigiri, it felt.. different. Sure he was still a man with his own needs and stupidity, yet he was the most caring and gentle one of them all. Slowly you started to realize the huge mistake you made. With tears threatening to fall on your face, you got out of your house, running as fast as you could to apologize to the sweetest, most handsome man you've ever met.. the man you loved. Ringing his bell repeatedly, he opened the door and saw you. Another surge of tears came out, making him sob uncontrollably. So you quickly hugged him, pressing kisses on his head, apologizing for the catastrophic mistake you've made.. in the end, let's just say that he accepted your apology, letting you ride all the sadness out of him, as you're tenderly making out.. make up sex with Chigiri was truly the best.

Barou Shoei :

•barou didn't need you anyway, you were such a nuisance to him, he thought. Not only were you so neglecting of his feelings, but you also had the guts to dump him, discarding him like a used toy that you didn't need anymore. Wasn't he your king? The only man that made you feel intense ecstasy? Well you were in the wrong, like you've always been, he thought once again. Barou could live perfectly without you, it's not like his existence depended on yours, and also it's not like he wanted the presence of someone who didn't want him back. Yet, why did he feel a tinge of sadness? Why was it that when he saw happy couples on the street, he felt like he had a hole in his chest that couldn't be filled no matter what? He didn't know why for sure, and he never even wanted to know.

•What a stubborn king, suppressing all his feelings until they burst like an atomic bomb. And indeed that's what happened, he denied the fact that he still loves you, he hates it. It makes him feel weak, transforming him from a glorious king to a heartbroken slave.. Barou wanted nothing more than his feelings for you to disappear, wanting to put his constant yearning for you to a halt, but he couldn't. No matter how hard he tried, you wouldn't get out of his mind, for a moment he thought that you had cast a spell on him, one so potent that left him entrances, as if he was hypnotized by a siren's voice..

•Barou wanted so badly to come back to you, to just be in your arms, to be able to love you without any restrictions.. but you deprived him of this happiness, condemning him to a life of sorrow and desperation.. As for you, well, you weren't doing so good either. You tried everything to forget him too, but your king had already left his imprint on you, forever changing your life, making it so that he was the only man you'd ever think about. You did send him countless messages, apologizing to him, asking him to meet up to set things straight yet he never responded, he was such a proud mf. So that's why you just went up to him during one of his training, it was the only choice as he couldn't ignore you there. But since Barou didn't wanna cause a scene, he just dragged you to the locker room, opting that finishing your conversation there would provide some more privacy. Well.. let's just say that your conversation was cut short, and the locker room was now filled with both of your moans, as Shoei was kinda busy making sure you'll never leave him, thrusting in you from behind, marking you, biting sucking and kissing your neck and shoulders so that way next time you'll know better than to leave your king.

© mdsbabygirl do not copy or translate my work without my permission.

[noctiva]

Sweet Thing (PT. 2)

Toby Rogers x F!Reader [NSFW!]

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Part One!

Part Three! (Will be added once it’s posted)

Playlist!

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WC: 24.4k (a beast, I know.)

Summary: One night. One night is all it takes for your simple life to take a turn you would’ve never expected. With rough hands moulding you into something you didn’t think you could ever be, you don’t realize you’re in too deep until it’s far too late.

CW: 18+ content, mentions of religion + religious imagery, questioning faith, descriptions of violence and gore, alluded sexism, americans written by a canadian lmaoaoao, manipulation, sort of toxic relationship, loss of innocence, loss of virginity, explicit sexual content, corruption, salirophilia, unsafe sex, semi-public sex, lowkey-exhibitionism, dirty talk, toby being an asshole lowkey, sort of kind of coercion

Reminder to separate reality from fiction! Some of the acts written here are definitely not recommended to imitate. Be safe!

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NSFW under the cut! Minors do not interact!

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You were quite literally trembling with anticipation.

Hands shaking as they held your fork, refusing to meet anybody’s eyes as you sat at the dinner table - the roast your mother had slaved over virtually untouched. It was a nice meal; slow-cooked seasoned meat from a freshly slaughtered cow, homemade mashed potatoes topped with a hearty amount of butter, stewed peas and carrots plucked from the ground outside.

The type of meal that you should be digging into, appreciating the hard work your mother had put into it to keep you fed and happy. And you would, on any other night, but not tonight. Not when your thoughts were so loud they were giving you a headache.

Toby had stayed with you for a little while after asking for your company later tonight. Sat next to you with his legs crossed, his knee bumping into yours every now and then. He had told you lots of things, voice soft as his scarred fingers plucked stray weeds from between the blades of grass.

Your mother had been right, about a lot of aspects. Toby had moved around quite often, hopping from state to state and hospital to hospital since he was just a baby. He had told you, that not only did he have Tourette’s, but he also had what caused him the most trouble - a condition that numbed his body to pain.

On the surface, you didn’t think it sounded all too bad, but the more explained it with a solemn frown tugging at his lips, you realized it really was a curse more than anything else. Broken bones left to fester because he couldn’t feel the pain of the fracture. Cracked teeth from clenching his jaw too tightly without realizing. Biting his nails until they were raw and bloody, only noticing the damage once he tasted iron on his tongue.

He wouldn’t show you his bare face, he had said, because he had gnawed through his own cheek without even noticing.

‘It’s u-ugly.’ He had muttered. ‘Real fuh-fuckin’ ugly. Highly doubt you’d s-still wanna talk to me if I showed you.”

“No, I would.” You had argued softly, as your eyes drifted to the bandaging that covered him up once more. Could it really be that bad? And even if it was, would you really be that disgusted?

Could anything really distract from how pleasant his features were to look at? He was rugged, a little roughed up, but in a way that endeared you. All his scars and imperfections coming together to form a man that you just couldn’t take your eyes off of.

He wasn’t perfect. Far from it. And maybe, that was the charm.

You had spent your entire life trying to fit into the mould that had been formed for you before even being born. Prim and proper. Soft spoken and considerate. Prioritizing everyone else’s needs over yours. Everything a woman should be, to make the lives that floated around you live easier. You were supposed to be perfect. It was what you were born to be.

It felt nice to be around someone who would never expect that of you, because he had a long way to go himself.

“Y-You say that…” Toby had breathed out in response to your little protests, his eyes holding a sad sort of resignation when they met yours once more. “But I think I’m still g-gonna keep it c-covered.”

You had been disheartened by his refusal, but looking back on it you couldn’t really blame him. You supposed the only people he had come across before you, were people like Jameson. People who shunned him for something he couldn’t control. People who backed him into a cage, forcing him to be ashamed for living within a body he didn’t ask for.

Maybe, one day you’d get the chance to show him that he didn’t need to be.

“Oh, baby, we are not doin’ this again.”

Your mother’s voice snaps you out of your daydream so harshly it makes you flinch, though she sounded just as sweet as always. You look down at your plate, just as full as it had been when you last focused on it, before your eyes snap up to your mother’s face. She’s staring down at you with a deep frown - one hand on her hip and the other holding everyone else’s plates. All completely empty. “I told you at breakfast that you’re not skipping dinner.” She reaches down to nudge your plate closer to you, but by now all the fixings have gone cold. What a waste. “What’sa matter with you today? Head in the clouds. Barely eating.”

If you told her, you’d probably start world war three right here at your dinner table. How were you supposed to say that you were too distracted because later tonight, you had your first date with a boy. Ever. Not to mention, the very same she had told you to steer far clear of.

“Nothin’, mama.” You answer back as convincingly as you can. By the look on her face, you can tell it’s not working. “I just haven’t had an appetite today. Maybe I caught a bug.”

“Caught a bug?” Jameson snorts from beside you, leaning back in his chair with an eyebrow raised. “You caught a bug, in the middle of summer.” His words come out laced with so much sarcasm it makes your brows wrinkle together. Just once. If he took your side just once, life would be so much easier.

“Yeah. Maybe I did.” You narrow your eyes at him, before dropping your gaze back to your plate once more. With a sigh, you finally pick your fork back up again and use it to shovel up a mouthful of mashed potatoes - which you have to force down. Cold. Just like you had expected. “Butt out, Jamesy.”

“Ah, don’t think I will.” Jameson hums back to you, watching you like a hawk with each mouthful of food you choke down. It was already hard to eat, but now it was even worse with an audience. “Ma’s right, you’ve been actin’ weird today.” He leans forwards a bit more, a sly little smirk tugging at the corners of his cracked lips. “Hiding somethin’?”

You didn’t think you were that obvious. At least, you had tried not to be. But, you supposed it was to be expected. You had spent the last nineteen years surrounded by these four people, day in and day out. Almost always under the watchful eye of at least one of them. It would be easy for them to pick out if something was off about you.

“I ain’t hiding nothin’.” You mutter back to him through a mouthful of carrots, to which you earn swift smack on the back of your head from your mother.

“Keep talkin’ with your mouth full and I’ll throw you in the barn with the rest of the animals.” Her tone is sharp and scolding, and you quickly swallow down the rest of your food before looking up at her apologetically. “You better not be hiding anything.” She continues, and there’s that look again. Peering down at you like she’s trying to get you to crack, her gaze steadfast as she waits for you to look away nervously - effectively admitting defeat.

But you didn’t, even when you felt sweat bead up on your brow.

“I told you, mama, I think I’m just comin’ down with something.” Somehow, that lie sounds even less convincing the second time it leaves your tongue. “I think I just need a good nights rest.”

Your mother, doesn’t look swayed. And when you glance over at Jameson, he doesn’t either.

You couldn’t exactly be blamed though. You weren’t well versed in the act of lying, especially not to your loved ones. It felt so wrong. Like each mistruth was stacking on your shoulders, weighing you down more and more each time you opened your mouth.

The weight of sin, you knew it was. A reminder to get back on track when you start to stray from the path. It rose goosebumps on your skin and made your chest feel tight. Made the crucifix around your neck feel like a noose, slowly choking you out more with each word you spoke.

You have to ask yourself if it’s really worth it. All of this stress and anxiety. To be damning yourself, simply for the sake of some companionship.

The answer, just makes you feel worse.

Because you did think it was worth it. Despite how wrong it was, and despite how much trouble you’d get into it you were ever found out.

Sitting next to Toby, talking to him, had been the most free you had felt since you took your first breath. He made you feel… Listened to. Appreciated. Known. He made you feel all of those things, within the span of just over an hour. And so if he could do that, by simply sharing space with you under the willow - what could he do if you gave him more time?

What else could he make you feel?

Maybe, that was why your family didn’t want you hanging around him. Because he made you wonder if the life you lived was really as good as you made it out to be.

He showed you that there could be more. That it could be so much better.

He was dangerous.

“Why would I ever lie to you, mama?” You asked her, in the sweetest, most sincere tone you could muster up. And maybe it was overkill, because all she responds with is a simple;

“I don’t know, darlin’. Why would you?”

To your surprise, she doesn’t push further, but you would guess that was on purpose. She wanted to let her words fester, sink into whatever secret you were keeping locked away, and gnaw at it until you were caving from the unbearable guilt.

Begging for forgiveness like a good woman should. From God first, then her second.

You could also hope, that on the flip side maybe she did actually believe you - because there was truth to your words, despite how coated in deception they were now. You hadn’t ever lied to her. Not before today. You had credibility, a track record of being honest and open.

A clean slate tainted in just a few hours.

You felt almost… Disgusted with yourself. So ashamed it brought a sickly taste to your mouth, almost unable to believe that you were sinking so low. Prioritizing your selfish desires over your loyalty to your family.

Your family. The ones who had raised you, cared for you, kept you safe and wiped the tears from your cheeks. You were turning your back on them, for a boy you barely knew anything about. A boy who had wriggled his way into your mind like a parasite, making a permanent home in your mind even when you tried to stay focused on the present.

A boy whose gaze made your tongue feel heavy. A boy who could turn you to stone with the lightest touch.

A boy who had awakened something, that had long been sleeping. Coaxing you to sink into all of the desires you had told yourself were so incredibly depraved. A boy who encouraged that, all while wearing the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen.

Toby had incited a war within your mind. Tearing into your psyche with his bare hands, moulding it into something he could settle comfortably into. The carnage of who you thought you were, left to be a mutilated mess that he used as a throne. He had hooked you from the first touch, imbuing you with an ache that you knew would persist until you felt the roughness of his fingers again.

He had grazed your cheek with the same gentleness as the summer’s breeze. Like you were made of porcelain. Something he knew he could easily break.

Little did he know, he had broken you the moment he bridged the gap and let his skin brush against yours.

Somehow, you manage to finish dinner. You choke it down with a lot of water to make it easier, trying to quell the way your hands would shake every time you lifted your fork. You did your best to act as if nothing was out of the ordinary, listening in to the idle chatter of your family - even as your pulse thudded so loudly in your ears that it drowned out your thoughts.

You laughed at Jameson’s stupid jokes, and nodded along to your father’s usual grumbled complaints about people you couldn’t remember the names of. You played the part, even though you felt like nothing short of a phony.

An actress, playing the part of the daughter you should be.

By the time everyone’s retreating from the table, you feel like your throat is closing up. The meal you had just eaten was siting heavy in your stomach, and when your mother wishes you a good night when you’re on your way to retreat upstairs - you feel like you’re going to throw it all back up.

She knew. You knew she knew. And yet here you were, standing here and spitting in the face of her trust. Here you were, making a mockery of the woman who had created you from her very flesh.

You don’t think any amount of repentance could redeem you after this. Because even though your legs wobbled as you walked up the stairs, even when your palms went clammy as she leaned down to press a kiss against your forehead - you just kept lying. Doubling down on it when your father gave your hair a gentle ruffle.

You must be a rotten, rotten girl.

Your parents both retreat off to bed, though it’s only just past eight o’clock. They were always early sleepers, given how early they rise as well. Always out of bed before you, even though you were normally crawling out of bed just after six.

Which meant that you, still had just under four hours to kill before driving the final knife in their backs. Midnight, might’ve been overkill to be sure that everyone in your house would be deep in slumber whilst you snuck out the back door, but it was definitely better safe than sorry. If you got caught, you would never see him again, and you knew that for certain.

You hadn’t been joking, when you had told Toby that your father would probably fire a bullet at him if he caught sight of you two together.

And even if Toby didn’t leave bloodied, you’d probably be locked away until your parents found someone who they thought was suitable for you. Probably some run of the mill farm boy, the son of one their church friends. A safe, easy option.

Something you were quickly finding out, was not what you wanted.

You had seen how your father treated your mother, and you couldn’t imagine yourself being in her place. He never treated her badly, per se, but more often than not it seemed as if she was a caretaker rather than a wife. Always doting on him. Cooking his meals, washing and ironing his clothes. Wiping the sweat from his brow when he came back from the barn dirtied and cursing under his breath.

Never doing anything that could break the ‘perfect woman’ facade she had created. Always smiling, never complaining, barely ever letting him see her when she wasn’t all done up with her hair perfectly curled.

She seemed happy. But, you don’t think she’d ever let it show if she wasn’t.

You couldn’t imagine a life like that. Always hiding your true emotions for the sake of someone else.

You passed the time at the desk in your room, after changing from your day clothes into your nightgown. A book rested in your hands as you sat by the glow of your lamp, the overhead light switched off to give the illusion that you were also retiring for the night. It was a book you had been delighted to receive, when your father brought it back for you after a trip to the city - but right now, you can barely even focus it.

Your eyes were skimming over the words rather than actually soaking them in - having to reread paragraphs dozens of times because your mind kept wandering. Your foot was bouncing against the wooden flooring, and your fingers were trembling each time you turned a page. So full of anxious energy that you were practically bursting, fidgeting uncontrollably in attempts to relieve some of the jitters.

It wasn’t working, and every time you glanced back at the clock it just got worse. Eight o’clock turned to nine quickly, and nine turned to ten even faster. When you were finally closing your book after somehow managing to force your way through it - it was eleven. And the panic you had been trying to push down was creeping up to rear its head. Leaving you to do nothing but lean your elbows against the surface of your desk, placing your head in your hands as you let out a shaky sigh.

The house had long since gone quiet, only the occasional creak and groan from the shifting supports of your decades old home. Your mind though, was so loud you had barely even noticed. As the clock ticked down your thoughts were increasing in volume, screaming at you from both ends of the argument.

‘If you actually go through with this, every single day with your family will be a constant string of lies.’

‘If you don’t, you’ll lay awake at night wishing you did’

Both sides were incredibly convincing, causing you to fist your fingers in your hair as you attempt to quell the headache you could feel creeping up on you. Your eyebrows were wrinkled together tightly, nails scratching at your scalp as you tug at the stands harshly.

‘If you get caught, you’ll lose any freedoms you’ve accumulated over the years.’

‘If you don’t, it could be the best night of your life.’

“Dammit.” You’re muttering to yourself in a strained whisper, sliding your hands down your face. You squeeze your eyes shut before pressing your fingers into them, so hard they start to ache. “Dammit, dammit-“

You spend a couple more moments breathing out quick, panicked huffs of breath, before pulling your hands away from your face and glancing over at the clock once more.

11:37.

Oh, good lord.

Toby’s probably getting ready to leave. Running a hand through those soft messy locks of his as he does a once over in the mirror. Would he be wearing what you saw him in last, or would he change into something different - something that might impress you more?

Was he putting on a few spritzes of cologne, to cover up the scent of cigarettes you had smelled on him last? Did his hands shake when he did?

Was he just as nervous as you?

You doubted that immensely. Nervousness hadn’t even been an idea swimming in the air for him when he was sat beside you. Encroaching on your personal space like it was his right, weaving a web for you to fall into with all of those smooth words he had spoken. You had been the one on guard, and he was the one who had chipped at your defenses like it was a game.

Pushing you. Seeing how close he could get if you’d let him. Asking you out, probably because he knew the boldness would drain all the air from your lungs. Toying with you. Because you were a timid ball of nerves, and he was anything but.

That was what had pulled you in though. His confidence. His persistence. The want to spend more time with you, so much so that he wasn’t afraid to work for it.

And for someone who had only spent time with people who were obligated to, it was an intoxicating feeling to actually be wanted by someone who could’ve just as easily brushed you off.

By 11:50, your decision is made.

You’re standing from your desk, not even bothering to push the chair in because the scrape of its legs against the wood would be far too loud. You don’t change, not wanting the rattle of your clothes hangers to ring out in the air. As quiet as a mouse. Soft footsteps everywhere you went, with a heart thudding so loudly you were afraid it would give you away.

When you reach your bedroom door, you turn the door knob agonizingly slowly. It took you over a full minute to get it open, not wanting to chance the slightest sound alerting your brother - who slept in the room right next door. Or worse, your father.

You open the door only halfway, knowing how it creaked when you pushed it farther than that. Then, you slip through the gap, tiptoeing with socked feet out into the hallway. You take slow, soft steps, avoiding all of the planks that you knew groaned under weight. One foot after another, legs shaking with each step forwards, you make it through the hallway and down the stairs without so much a single noise to give you away.

You almost feel proud of yourself for it. Almost. Because the guilt was crushing down that thought with heavy hands.

But your excitement, is pushing your forwards. Excitement that had been smothered under the weight of your sins, but was clawing it’s way to the surface with each soft step. It moves you through the living room, into the kitchen, and to the back door even as your hands tremble.

Picking up the sandals by the door, is when it really sets in for you. You take a moment to pause, staring at the lock on the door as you breathe out quivering exhales. And yet, you’re still being pushed even more.

You reach up and turn the lock with your free hand, just as carefully as all of your other movements had been. It squeaks just a little when metal scrapes again each other, a sound that had your whole body freezing.

It wasn’t loud, and you knew that, but it felt like you had damned yourself with that one tiny noise. So you pause, even holding your breath as you wait to hear the sound of your executioner. The rustle of bedsheets, the creak of floorboards under feet. Your father clearing your throat, or Jameson sniffling away his grogginess as he pushed open his bedroom door.

But, none of that happens. The house stays almost eerily quiet. You wonder, if for some strange reason, God was on your side. Endorsing your wrongdoings, just because you wore the image of his son around your neck.

Not wanting to chance it, or give fate an opportunity to change its mind, you take the final step.

Through the back door, closing it behind you gently. Out onto the porch, where you slip your sandals onto your feet. Down the steps, the night summer breeze brushing against your skin. So warm, it doesn’t raise a single goosebump. The air holding a crispness you’ve never gotten to breathe in before.

You don’t think you’ve ever been out this late. Not only because you weren’t allowed to, but because you didn’t have a reason to. Nothing so important that you would take such a risk.

As you walk through the gardens, you realize how much you’ve been missing. The peacefulness that has taken over the entire earth, your surroundings dark as the world lays in slumber around you. When you look upwards, the moon shines brighter than you’ve ever seen it - stars surrounding it like holes punched through a backlit canopy. Crickets chirp in your ears, a sound that you’ve really only been able to take in through the screen of your bedroom window.

They sound louder now. Gracing your ears with the nightly serenade they bring to the air.

Though the trip is the same, it feels so different as you weave through the corn stalks. You were always excited to walk to the willow, but now you were bursting with it - the pace of your walk growing faster and faster, until you’re practically running through the crops with the wind whipping through your hair.

Away from that cage you had been confined to. Into the arms of the person who had helped you pick the lock.

With dirt on the hem of your nightdress, and leaves in your hair, you burst out of the other side. Breathing heavy, eyes near frantic as they dart around looking for him. Shaking not from the cold, but from the intensity of the emotions flowing through your veins.

Your eyes land on the fence before you, then the willow tree behind it - though it’s so dark now you can just barely make out the shape of its branches against the inky sky above. Then, your gaze moves over to the side, and when they land on what you were looking for your pulse reaches a worrying pace.

By the side of the road, a truck is parked. Engine running, yellowing headlights casting a beam of light against the gravel road it’s parked on. Even from the distance you’re at, you can tell it’s a beat up old thing - with a crooked bumper and rust creeping up its doors.

In the drivers seat, you see him. Toby, who hadn’t caught sight of you yet - feet kicked up on the dash as the flick of a lighter illuminates his face in shades of orange and gold. The rest of him, is bathed in the warm glow of the overhead light he has flicked on above him. He’s got those same beat up sneakers on, and it looks like a different pair of jeans, but it’s hard to tell because they’re just as ripped.

The cap his was wearing before is gone, letting you really take in the sight of the fluffy brown hair thar falls in loose curls over his forehead.

You’re struck by the image of him. Even more than you had been the first time.

You can’t help but just stand there for a moment, the breeze tousling your hair as you drink him in with your eyes. And you become more sure than ever, that you made the right decision. The effect that he has on you is one you don’t know how to describe, let alone comprehend. Just looking at him made your blood feel hot, made your heart flutter in your chest.

Made your feet start moving before you even realize it. You hop the fence more fluidly than you ever had, limbs feeling so light and loose you would swear you simply floated over it. When your feet hit the grass on the other side, you’re immediately breaking into a jog. The soft silky fabric of your night grown flowing around your legs, hair pushed off of your face by the wind as you advance on him.

“Toby!” You call out softly, lungs too tight to force your voice any louder.

But he heard you, of course he did.

You watch as his eyebrows shoot upwards, the cigarette in his mouth nearly falling out as his lips part in surprise. Then he’s turning his head, and his lips are stretching into a grin.

A grin, that was a mask for the absolute state of awe you’ve suspended him in.

The moment his eyes landed on you, all of the breath left his lungs - goosebumps immediately raising on the back of his neck and crawling down his spine. He feels his breathing go shakier, feels the heat that starts to bloom on his cheeks.

Because christ, if he thought you were beautiful before…

You were jogging towards him dressed in silk, a material that was loose and flowy - but clung to your body like a second skin as you moved against the grain the wind was blowing in. And he would swear that the moonlight was making you glow. Sharp shadows cast against all of the worst places for his eyes to focus on.

The dip of your collarbones, the swell of your breasts - which moved like liquid with every step you took. The soft curve of your hips, hidden away by just a thin layer of fabric. He could just imagine how it would feel to sink his fingers in deep, moulding your flesh to the shape of his touch. He had to wonder if you knew what a tempting gift you were to him, as you slowed into a walk and came up to the window of his truck.

“Hey, ss-sweet thing.” Toby grins down at you, eyes now locked on that sweet, sweet face of yours. Soft hair framing your features, falling down onto your shoulders so effortlessly elegant. “You made it.” He makes no effort to hide it as his eyes rake over the sight of you, half-lidded, and partially obscured by the smoke trailing from the tip of his lit cigarette. “Th-Thought I told ya’ to wear s-somethin’ warm.”

Just like before, his eyes on you immediately rise goosebumps on the back of your arms. You clear your throat, and cross your arms over your chest in an attempt to look a lot less affected than you truly are.

“It’s not that cold out.” You answer back softly, gaze falling to the way he fiddled with his cigarette between his teeth. Breathing in a lungful of smoke to exhale it through his nose, to which it would waft towards you and cling to your clothes. “Besides, I didn’t wanna risk making too much noise. My brother’s a light sleeper.”

Toby lets out a little hum of acknowledgment at that, before plucking the cigarette from his lips and ashing it out the window of the truck. He’s about to say something, when a sudden jerk of his shoulders cuts him off - the action so sharp it made his fingers go slack in their grip on his smoke. Which ends up falling in the grass right in front of your feet.

Not saying a word, you lean down to pick it up, brushing your hair out of the way as you do so.

When you stand back up fully, you give Toby a little smile, and for some reason he looks redder than before.

“Still lit.” You hum, extending the smouldering cigarette back to him, smoke wafting back towards you due to the way the wind was blowing.

“Y-You can take a hit, if you w-want.” Toby answers back, a sly little grin creeping onto his face. He leans his forearms on the windowsill of the truck door, putting his whole body weight against it as he gazed down at you.

He had a funny little feeling that you’ve never even been offered a cigarette before, and something within him - something sick and self-indulgent - wanted to see it happen. Wanted to watch those pretty lips wrap around the filter, breathing it in and tainting your pure lungs forever.

He wanted you to think of him, every time someone lit up in your presence.

“Oh, I don’t smoke.” You shake your head, quite predictably, and nudge the smoke in his direction with the cutest little pout of your face. “My daddy says it ain’t ladylike.”

Of course he’d say that. Toby thinks to himself, lips pursing a little in annoyance. All these rules and restrictions placed upon you, it was equal parts as pitiful as it was irritating. Your father, your mother - all of them - holding you by your leash even when you venturing so far away from them.

“Well,” He reaches forwards and begrudgingly takes the cigarette back from you. “I think a-anything’s ladylike, if it’s a lady that’s doing it.” He flashes you a cheeky little grin before slotting his smoke back between his teeth and leaning back in his seat. Looking at you, like he knows his words cut deep. Knows that they wriggle under your skin, forcing open a bigger and bigger gap to just let him in.

What was that in his eyes? Pride? You couldn’t quite tell. All you knew, was that it made your limbs feel weak. Body feeling heavy and lungs feeling tight - craving the burn of tobacco for the first time in your entire life.

How did he do it? How did he bend you to his will so easily? Tugging at you like a marionette - pulling the strings, swaying you in the direction he wanted you to be. Curious. Desperate. Naive. Everything you shouldn’t be, around a wolf like him.

Unaware that you were just his type of prey. “C’mon. It’s c-cold out.” He taps the windowsill with his palm, like a beckoning call. “Get in.”

“It’s not cold, Toby.” You roll your eyes. “I think you’re just a wuss.” But, you do oblige. Rounding the front of his vehicle to the passenger side, placing a foot on the sidestep before hauling open the door. It creaks when you pull it open, and thuds loudly when you close it - like it’s groaning out its discomfort.

“Y-You’re calling me a wuss?” Toby snorts, his eyes tracking you as you settle into the seat. Soft silk pooling around your thighs, giving him just the slightest tease of bare skin when you cross one leg over the other. “That’s rich. You’re the one who had a whole existential crisis just ‘cause I w-wanted to take you out.”

Point made, you couldn’t deny that, but you suppose he’d never get it. From what he had told you, Toby had lived a rebellious life. Just doing what he wanted, even if the consequences were grave. Viewing rules as suggestions and warnings as encouragement. He wouldn’t last a day in your shoes.

But then again, would you survive in his? Is that not what you were doing right now? Throwing caution to the wind, like he did every single day?

“You wouldn’t get it.” You roll your eyes, before cutting him a look out of the corner of your eye. “Not everyone can just do anything they want.”

“S-Sure you can.” With curiosity brimming your irises, you watch as Toby leans forwards a bit in his seat to shrug his flannel off of his shoulders. Letting the heavy fabric crumple behind him, revealing just a thin t-shirt beneath it. It wore the logo of a band you had never heard of, frayed at the hems and sleeves. Fitting him loose enough that you could only use your imagination to wonder what may lay beneath it.

Just a glimpse, is all you got. Lean but toned biceps and forearms, skin speckled with scarring and the odd bandage here and there. His freckles extended throughout his whole body, it seemed, with the way they trickled across his collarbones and down his arms. His skin had texture, told a story. Made you want to reach forwards and touch. Run your fingers across all of his scars like they were messages told in braille, read him like a book with just the pads of your fingers.

Oh, christ. Maybe this was a bad idea.

You’re too transfixed to even fully realizing what he’s doing before you feel the weighted warmth of something covering your shoulders. You snap back into the present, and oh. When did he get so close? When had you become draped with his flannel?

He’s mere inches from you now, his cigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth as his fingers tug the material further over you. Eyes dropped low, not meeting your own. Focused, almost too focused, for the task at hand. “Don’t want you c-catchin’ a chill.” He mutters out softly, but you barely even hear it. He’s too close. Much closer than he had chanced earlier. Close enough that you can feel the heat of his body radiating towards you, close enough that you can feel each of his exhales.

Close enough that he can smell the scent of shampoo wafting off of your hair. Such a soft, sweet scent. So perfectly fitting for a girl like you. Invading his lungs, travelling up to his brain where it coated his entire psyche - muddling his thoughts even more than they already were.

With one last little tug, he pulls away slowly. Almost reluctantly. “Heat doesn’t work in this old thing.” He settles back into his seat, plucking the cigarette out of his mouth and extinguishing it in an ashtray that sat in the cup holder. So nonchalant, so unaffected it was almost enviable.

Were you just overthinking things? Drawing conclusions that had no merit, because he was the first man you had ever let in such close proximity? Was this all normal?

Or, was it just normal to him?

The weight of his flannel is a comfort that just borders on the edge of suffocating. Like a weighted blanket, warmed by his body heat and spritzed with the smell of his natural scent. Slipping your arms through the sleeves felt like a much bigger deal than it probably was. Like it was a watered down version of what it might feel like to be embraced by him.

It makes your skin tingle wherever the fabric touched you. Knowing that it had been touching him, just moments before. “Seatbelt on.” He reaches down to shift the truck into gear, before glancing at you and flashing you a cheeky smile. “C-Can’t go damaging the precious cargo.”

“Stop that.” You huff out immediately, feeling heat rush to your cheeks as you pull the seatbelt over your body. It seemed to come so easy to him, spitting out words that made your breathing go shaky. Barely even having to think about it, before he was stringing together the perfect phrase to make your face go pink. Almost like he had a whole repertoire stashed away.

“Stop what?” Toby laughs, before pressing down on the gas pedal. The sound of gravel crunching accompanied the rumble of his truck’s engine roaring back to life. Pulling off the side of the road, starting down the road and away from your home. No going back now.

You breathe out a shaky little exhale and cross your arms over your chest, pulling Toby’s flannel further over your body. Cocooning yourself in its warmth, letting the scent of his cologne melt away your worries. Even as you glance out the window, and watch the posts in your property’s fence roll by.

You wonder if your mother can sense it. If she’s shifting in her sleep, restless with anxiety because her maternal instincts pick up on the shift in energy. Tossing and turning, because she can feel her connection to you weaken, the further away you go. “Sayin’ stuff like that.” You mutter softly, squinting through the darkness to try and pick out the shapes you’re passing. The corn field, your house, the bridge that stretched across the creek next to your property. “Actin’ like a rodeo clown.”

“Hey!” Toby barks out a laugh, leaving one hand on the wheel so that he can lean to the side and nudge you with his elbow. “Y-You callin’ me a c-clown?” You let out a little giggle and give him a soft shrug, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye.

“If the shoe fits.” You hum, leaning back a little more in your seat. Getting comfortable, letting his inviting demeanour soothe you. The expression he breaks into just makes that easier - completely aghast, dramatically offended. Making it impossible for you not to burst into another fit of giggles.

“Wow.” He huffs, eyes flicking over to observe you for just a moment before he’s looking back to the road. In all honesty, it was pretty difficult to stay focused on the road when he had you sitting beside him - filling the air with the saccharine sound of your laughter, the smile on your face lighting up the darkness the truck was enveloped in. You really could give the sun a run for its money. “Y-You wound me. I’m j-just tryin’ to get you to smile.”

Toby reaches up with his free hand, running through his hair and pushing it out of his eyes. Letting you marvel at how soft and feathery it looked, falling back into place so effortlessly. “Which you are. So, I win.”

In more ways than one. He was winning, just by having you sat next to him right now - snuggled up onto his flannel shirt. A blush on your cheeks, and a smile curving your lips.

“Yeah, yeah.” You laugh softly, rolling your eyes as you lean your head back against the headrest. You tilt your head to the side to watch him, taking in every little movement of his as he drive you through the night. One hand tapping against the shift knob, the other one draped over the steering wheel. Shoulders jerking every once and awhile, and his jaw would clench every time it happened - like he was trying to suppress it.

Gnawing on his bottom lip every now and then, soft brown hair hiding his ears. Which, you learned when he ruffled up the strands, were pierced a couple times. Metal glinting in the light, just a flash of what he kept hidden. You wondered what other secrets he kept, just out of your sight. “Where are you taking me, Toby?”

“Oh, you w-wanna know the itinerary?” He chuckles. “I was hopin’ you be a fan of sur-surprises.”

Maybe you should’ve expected that answer. But regardless, it still makes you roll your eyes.

“I am, I’m just curious.” You hum back to him, gaze dripping down when he shifts the truck into a different gear. The aged metal grinding against each other in a way that almost sounded concerning. “For all I know, you could just be biding time until you decide to kill me or somethin’.” Words uttered out in a joking tone, but there was a bit of truth lying beneath them.

Toby felt safe. His presence was comforting n and his words were effortlessly charming. But, at the end of the day, you didn’t know him. Met him just earlier in the day, and now you were placing a great deal of trust upon him. Letting him take you away, without any of your loved ones knowing you had even left the house.

If he wanted to, he could take advantage of the situation so easily. He could make you disappear, and no one would even ever know he had crossed paths with you.

“You’ve g-got a dark mind.” Toby huffs out a laugh, raising an eyebrow as he glanced over at you. “I can p-promise you, the things I’ve got planned require you being alive.” He lifts his free hand and extends it towards you, letting it find a home resting atop your shoulder. And just like every time before, he feels it when your muscles go rigid just from the simplest touch.

That was alright. He’d get you used to it soon enough. “I-If it makes you feel better, I guess I can s-spoil the surprise.” With the roads so empty, he doesn’t even bother flicking his blinker on before he’s steering the truck around a right turn. “Was gonna show you my house, then I was g-gonna take you for a walk.”

“A walk?” Your eyebrows shoot up. “This late at night?”

“Can’t t-take the truck where I want to show you.” He shrugs, giving your shoulder a little pat before he’s pulling away once more. Leaving a warmed spot in the wake of his touch, like a ghost of his hand. “It’s worth it, I p-promise you. I think you’ll really luh-like it.” He rests his hand back on the shift knob, and meets your eye out of the corner of his. “You trust me?”

Should you, so easily? Definitely not. But, your sense of self-preservation was at an all time low right now. Had been, since you settled into his passenger seat. Had been, since you said yes to him earlier today.

Your curiosity was so intense, it outweighed the apprehension. Clouded over the lingering possibility of danger. And so, you nod.

“Yeah, I trust you.” You answer back to him softly, watching how his lips curl upwards at the sound of those words. How he looks a tad too pleased with himself, before he’s giving you a little nod.

“Good.” He hums, then fully directing his gaze back to the road. He drives for a little while longer, the gaps between conversation filled with the soft hum of the engine, and the sound of tires against gravel. At some point, he turned the radio on, but kept the volume knob turned down low, letting the music just be a soft drone barely audible through all the other noises.

Trees pass, houses pass, and as you glance out the window, you wonder to yourself how far away he’s going to take you. How detached you’ll be from what you know, by the time you’re finally stepping onto sold ground again. “Alright, t-take a look-see.” Toby’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts, and it’s then that you notice the truck has stopped moving.

Parked at the edge of the street again, right in front of a house that you already recognize. You remember when the old residents moved out - an older couple with no kids, that your mother would invite over for tea every now and then. You remember her saying that she was sure they must be lonely, with a big house and no children to fill it.

You remember them being one of the happiest couples you had met. Content with their own company, and nothing more. Looking back on it now, they may have been the catalyst for you wondering if the life your parents lived was the be all end all. If maybe, there were ways to be fulfilled elsewhere.

“That’s your house?” You ask, leaning over the centre console a little to peer out the driver’s side window better. There were differences here and there; a new coat of paint on the shutters, shrubbery planted along the fence posts. An old, 80s era car sits parked out front - just as worse for wear as the truck you sat in was. Tossed on the ground outside the fence is a bike, which you can only assume is Toby’s. It looked like something he’d own, with stickers all the way up and down the frame. “Just you and your parents? Or do you got siblings?”

Toby’s silent for a second, and when your eyes lift to look at his face you notice that his expression has hardened a little. Jaw clenched, eyes glazed over as he gazes out the window.

“I ha-had a-“ A sudden movement makes his jaw crack to the side, startling you a little and making your body jolt. “-a sister.” He admits, voice softer than you’d ever heard it - imbued with the type of hidden sorrow that could only be achieved by someone who had lost a loved one. You immediately feel horrible for asking, like you committed a sin by bringing it up, though you had no way of knowing the weight that question held for him. “She- She died before we moved out there though. A few years back.”

“Toby, I’m sorry-“ You try, but he lifts a hand to silence you.

“Not your f-fault. No way you coulda known.” He lets out a deep sigh before shaking out his shoulders, like he was physically trying to knock off the weight accumulated on his shoulders. “Bet she woulda liked you though. Would always tell me to stay out o-of trouble.”

He glances over at you, and smiles. “And I don’t think you even know the m-meaning of the word.”

“I do.” You hum back to him, holding his gaze as you lean in just a little more - elbows propped up on the centre console. Toby notices the shift immediately, and it takes all the willpower in the world for him to keep his eye up.

“Yeah?” He raises an eyebrow. “What is it then?”

“You.” You feel like you’ve taken a page out of Toby’s book of tricks, with the way that comment has his eyes widening. Stunning him for just a second, enough to make the tips of his ears burn pink. But he regains his composure easily, breaking into a grin and letting out a disbelieving chuckle.

He shakes his head, before leaning to the side to nudge you with his shoulder.

“Cheeky.” He laughs, eyes gleaming as he looks down at you. “I like that.”

He stays leaned close to you like that, just as close as he had been when he had draped his flannel over your shoulders. The smell of him so potent from this distance that it made you feel dizzy. Woodsy cologne, covered up by the scent of cigarette smoke. He’s close enough that it would be so easy, to let this interaction go further.

All you’d have to do is tilt your head upwards, lean in just a little bit more, and then-

You can almost feel yourself doing it. Your body pulled to him like a magnet as he held your gaze - his eyes holding a question that you already knew the answer to, if he were to ask it. Out of the corner of your eye you notice his hand lift, extending out towards you, hesitating for just a moment before he bridges the gap.

He cups your jaw with his palm, barely adding any pressure to his touch. So gentle it’s barely there even there, giving the chance to pull away if you really wanted to. You don’t, even as your pulse picks up to a worrying degree. Thudding so hard in your chest that you’re almost convinced it’s going to bruise your ribs from the inside.

You can’t move, can’t speak - frozen in your spot as you watch his gaze flicker between your eyes and your lips, lingering on the latter for long enough to make your stomach do flips. “You-You’re really pretty, you know that?” Toby asks you softly as he trails his hand up your face, gently tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear. “It’s kind of insane.”

“Don’t… Don’t say that.” You mutter, dropping your gaze down towards your lap.

“Why not?” Toby asks, finally able to get a good look at you, now that you’re not tracking your his every movement. The curve of your lips, how the bottom one trembles when you inhale. The slope of your neck, down to your shoulders - all soft smooth skin that he’d die to get his lips on. Get his teeth sunk into. Mouthwatering cleavage, presented to him so beautifully in the silken fabric of your nightgown, accented by his shirt draped over your body. “It’s true.”

“Because-“ You lift your gaze back upwards, and you’re about to speak, when the little bubble Toby’s brought you into is popped by the sound of a door swinging open.

“Tobias!” A man’s voice hollers through the silent night air, such a stark contrast that it makes you freeze up. Toby, also jolts for a second, before he’s rolling his eyes and pulling away from you - directing his gaze towards the window.

A man in his late 40s is stalking down the driveway, and even from so far away you can tell his lips are tugged down into a scowl. Eyebrows furrowed together, on a beeline towards the truck. “What did I tell you about stealing my truck?”

Oh, that must be Toby’s dad.

“Fuck-“ Toby groans out, immediately shifting back into gear without a second thought. “P-Party’s over, time for the next stop.”

And with that, he’s shifting back in his seat and stepping on the gas - sending the truck lurching forwards with a speed that made you gasp, hands flying to your seatbelt to keep you stable. Gravel kicks up from under the tires as he peels away, not sparing the man behind you a second glance as Toby disappears into the night once more - leaving him in the cloud of dust he left behind.

He looks unfazed by it all, even as you stare at him incredulously - eyes as wide as dinner plates. There’s a flicker of irritation on his face, but you would guess it was only because he got interrupted - not because he was in trouble.

“This is your dad’s truck?” You ask him after you catch your breath, barely able to shake the adrenaline from your bones. You were still moving far faster than you had been before, trees blurring into smeared navy and green shapes. “Thought you said it was yours?”

Toby shifts into a higher gear, before responding.

“S-Semantics.” He shrugs. “It’s my family’s truck, so i-it’s mine by proxy.”

You raise an eyebrow, watching him with a mix of curiosity and awe. Such a blatant disregard for rules and expectations. It was almost… Inspiring.

“I… Don’t think that’s how that works.” You let out a soft laugh and shake your head. “How do you do it?”

“Do what?” The truck pulls off onto a side street, this one so dark that the only lighting comes from the headlights before you.

“Just… Just drive away like that.” You shrug, leaning against the door. “That’s your dad, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Toby shrugs. “B-But he’s also a jackass, so it’s warranted.” His fingers tap against the steering wheel to an uneven beat, and you notice then that they look even more worse for wear than they did earlier. The tips of his fingers red and raw, like he had been gnawing the skin off of them. “It won’t end up anywhere anyway.” He speaks up after a few moments. “It’s a cy-cycle. I do shit that pisses him off, he gets mad, so I run off until he’s cooled off enough t-to forget what I even did in the first place.”

The truck finally rumbles to a stop again, and Toby pulls the key out of the ignition before looking over at you. “It’s not that deep. N-None of this shit is. Just do what makes you happy, a-and smooth out the bumps along the way.”

“You make it sound so easy.” You breathe out, nearly in a state of awe as you watch him unbuckle his seatbelt. You mimic the motion, undoing your own with a click that rings through the air.

“That’s be-because it is.” Toby laughs, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Then, he’s swinging open the driver’s side door and sliding out of the seat - feet hitting dirt and grass when they meet the ground.

He stops at the back, pulling open the door to grab something out of the backseat you couldn’t make out. Then, he round the truck and meets you at your door, before pulling it open and extending a hand out to you with a smile. You notice the backpack slung over his shoulder now, causing your brain to whir about with guessing of what it could contain. Of what he had planned. “C’mon, pretty. L-Let me show you.”

You hesitate for just a moment, fingers twitching before you reach out to let him take your hand. Warm, rough, grounding. That’s what it felt like, when Toby’s fingers curled around your hand. Terrifying, exhilarating, and so new. Those were the thoughts running through your head when he started tugging you along with him as he started to walk.

Toby led you through a small forest, if you could even call it that. More so a grove, with the way the trees surrounded you. Not densely packed, just speckled across the land with tall grass and wildflowers blooming in between them. Sparse enough that the light of the moon could filter through the gaps in the leaves, bringing a cool toned light to your surroundings. It was still dark enough to bring a chill of apprehension through your bones, but with Toby’s hand clasping yours so tightly - you didn’t feel vulnerable.

You felt… Safe. Which was weird, considering that you were walking through an unfamiliar place, late at night, with somebody who was barely more than a stranger. “I f-found this spot a few weeks ago, looking for somethin’ interesting around here.”

He takes you out further, swinging your arms as he walked - surrounded by nothing but the sound of his voice, and crickets chirping within the leaves. “It was the most noteworthy thing I found, up until t-today.”

He looks down at you and smiles warmly, eyes glinting in the moonlight like the stars in the sky had migrating to irises. If it weren’t so dark, he’d probably be grinning at the sight of you going pink from his words yet again - but to be honest, he didn’t even need to see it. He could just sense it. “You’ll like it.”

You walk together for a little while, and it is a little colder beneath the leaves, so you’re happy to be wearing Toby’s flannel. Happy to have Toby so close to you, sharing his warmth everytime his shoulder brushed against yours. You don’t know how long the journey truly spanned, time meaning less and less to you with each step you took.

Just this morning, the farther you had ever ventured without your parents was just past the fence posts of your property. Now, you didn’t even know how far away you were. Far enough that you couldn’t go back on your own, that much was for certain. “Ah, here it is.”

Your eyes snap forwards at the sound of Toby’s voice, and once they do, you’re left speechless. Because he was right, you did like it. Loved it, actually.

Stretched out before you, so unsuspecting in the way it was nestled right within this little grove, was a pond that stretch out far into the distance. In the darkness, it seemed to span for eternities - blending in with the shadows, hiding the shoreline on the other side. The moonlight sparkled like diamonds off of the surface, so mystifying you couldn’t tear your eyes away.

So captivating, your body moves before you can even think. Now you’re the one tugging Toby along with you as your feet glide across the grass - barely even remembering to breathe as you’re pulled in closer and closer to the water’s edge. You don’t think you’ve ever seen something so beautiful. Weren’t aware that something this jaw dropping resided so close to your home.

And maybe it wasn’t much, in the grand scheme of things. Maybe it was just a pond. But to you, it was everything. “P-Pretty, right?” Toby hums from beside you, unable to help the smile on his face as he takes in your awestruck expression. “It’s nice during the- the day too, but I think it really shines at night.”

It did. Water so dark it looked like a pool of ink, lily pads and cattails barely illuminated by the moon above. Like something pulled straight from a movie, and Toby had conjured it up right before your eyes.

“It’s…” You can’t even find the words to describe what you’re seeing, what you’re feeling. And so, you just settle on, “Wow.”

Toby lets out a little breathless chuckle, and gives your hand a squeeze.

“Yeah.” He agrees. “Wow.” He shrugs his bag off of his shoulder, letting go of your hand so that he could unzip it. Rifling through it for just a moment, he pulls out a blanket - and shoots you a grin before spreading it out on the ground below the two of you. “Take a seat.” You barely even get time to respond before he’s taking your hand again, pulling you down with him when he does just that. “This is why it’s good to g-get out, y’know? Not just the big things, little things too. Like this.”

You hum in agreement, tearing your eyes away from the pond to look up at his face from where you’re sat beside him. And you find, that he’s already gazing down at you, leaning back on his hands with a soft smile. “You g-get it now?”

“Yeah.” You breathe back to him. “I get it.” You pull your knees up to your chest and let out a breath. “I just… It’s not that I don’t have things I want to do, or sights I want to see. It’s just that it never seemed possible. Felt selfish.”

“Well, being selfish is a g-good thing sometimes.” Toby shrugs, watching you as you shift. How your hair cascades down your shoulder like silk when you move. “What do you want to do?”

“I…” You hesitate for a moment, before scooting a little closer. Letting out a soft exhale, before you test your head against his shoulder. This time, it’s Toby’s turn to tense up for a moment, before he’s going lax - sinking into the feeling of you offering up your closeness. “I’ve always wanted to move away. Out to the city.” You answer back to him softly. “I wonder… If it’s like the movies. Billboards and neon lights. Busy streets and good food on every corner.” You look up to him with a smile. “That’s what I want.”

“I lived in D-Denver, for a while.” Toby hums back to you. “Nothin’ fancy or flashy like you’re probably picturing, but it was way better than th-this place.” He reaches down and pats at the pocket of his jeans, before reaching in and retrieving his lighter along with a pack of smokes. “You could do it, you know.” He opens the carton and taps a cigarette out onto his palm, before setting the carton on the blanket beside him. “Leave this place. I don’t th-think there’s anything stopping you but fear.”

“Not true.” You laugh. “Also money, and a living situation. I can’t just up and leave.”

“You’d figure it out.” Toby slots the cigarette between his teeth, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye before flicking his lighter. “Could g-go ro school somewhere out of state. Get a job waiting tables at some restaurant. Bet you’d g-get a lot of tips.” His smoke ignites, fizzling when the tobacco at the end combusts and transfigures into wisps of smoke. “There’s always a way. Y-You just gotta take the leap.”

He reaches up behind you, before placing his hand on your head and giving your hair an affectionate ruffle. Just an excuse to feel how soft it was. “It doesn’t have to end here, this freedom. And, I’ve g-got a funny feeling you won’t want it to.” His hand slips down the back of your head, before trails across your shoulders. Pulling you in close, finally letting go of the restraint he’d been holding on to with white knuckles. “It’s never enough to just g-get a t-taste.”

His words resonate deep, deep within you. Reigniting all of the hopes and dreams you had buried down so long ago. Sparking up a flame within you, one of hope. One that believed, that he might just be right.

You look up to watch as he takes a drag, cheeks hollowing to pull smoke into his mouth, before he’s exhaling it all in one long exhale. He relaxes even further, a look of serenity om his face when he catches you looking at him. “You sure you don’t want to try it? One hit wont h-hurt.”

And with all the risks you’ve already taken, all of the rules you’ve broken - it feels silly to let this be the like you draw. “I’ll even make it easier for you.” As if you needed more convincing.

“Just one.” You agree, and tilt your head up a little. “I’m not trying to get addicted.”

“Y-You will.” Toby laughs softly. Then, his hand trails across your shoulders, up the expanse of your neck - to find a home cupping your chin. In his wake, a patch of goosebumps rise on your skin, visualizing exactly where he’s touched you. “Open your mouth.”

You’re a tad taken aback by the command, even more so because of Toby’s close proximity, but well - you asked for this, and you were teeming with curiosity on where it would take you. So you do. You part your lips and look up to meet his eyes, waiting patiently for his next move.

You watch as he uses his left hand to bring the cigarette to his lips once more, the ember at the end crackling - casting a golden glow against his face. Then, when is mouth is filled with a thick cloud of smoke, he leans forwards - lips just inches from your own when he exhales.

He didn’t tell you to, but you can just tell that you’re supposed to inhale - stealing the smoke straight from his lips. It’s more intimate than you’ve ever been, closer to someone, than you ever dreamed of getting. Toby’s fingers holding you gently, his hair tickling your face as he breathes life into your lungs.

It burns, which was a given - considering this was your first time - but your curl your fingers into fists as a way to try and negate the urge to cough. It works, just barely, even as your eyes start to water a little as you breathe all the smoke back out in a shaky, stuttering exhale.

And it’s the loveliest sight. Eyes fluttering as you breathe out, lips so plush and pink as the smoke slips past them. You look like sin itself. The sweetest vision, indulging in something so dirty. “Not b-bad.” Toby grins. “You didn’t even c-cough.”

“It’s..” Now you cough, leaning to the side to clear your throat of the thick film of smoke residue that was clinging to it. “It’s still harsh though.”

“Duh.” Toby laughs softly. “But it gets better with time. W-Want another?”

You should say no, considering your previous stipulation, but it’s the easiest thing in the world to concede to all of Toby’s wishes. Especially, when it means you’ll get to be so close to him once more. As close as you could be, without actually touching.

“Yeah.” You lean in again, more relaxed this time now that you know what’s coming. “Give me one more.”

And Toby agrees happily, just itching to get all up in your space once again. He could feel your walls breaking down, letting him in more and more. Closer and closer. Just an arms reach away, from where he wanted you to be.

He repeats the action; taking a drag, pulling you close to him, breathing it all out into your parted lips. Only this time, when you exhale he doesn’t retreat. He stays right where he is, just a few inches from your face, letting the smoke wash over his skin. Smelling sweeter than ever, because it came from your lungs. “You’re a natural.” He murmurs, smoothing his thumb against your jaw. “Knew you h-had it in you.”

It’s just like in the truck. So close it would be a breeze to close the distance. The greatest temptation, staring down at you with the warmest brown eyes your ever seen. Looking at you, like you’re the only woman to ever exist. Like you were special. Toby must be thinking the same thing, because next he says, “I meant it, you know. You’re really f-fuckin’ pretty.”

He shifts a little, leaning his head down minutely - enough to make your heart skip a beat. “Like some sorta angel.”

“Toby…” You mutter sheepishly, barely able to think straight with the combination of his words and the warmth in his eyes. “You.. You’re too much.”

“Am I?” He murmurs back to you. “I’m just c-callin’ it like I see it.” With his other hand, he snuffs out his cigarette against the grass, not breaking your gaze once while he does it. “Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen, and with the sweetest nature to boot.” When his hand comes to rest on your waist, you nearly flinch, but he soothes you with soft circles that he rubs against your skin. Warming you up, breaking down those walls even more. “Somethin’ straight outta my d-dreams.”

You notice how the space between you is slowly disappearing, how he’s getting closer with each word he speaks. You can feel his breath on your lips, his fingers curling into the fabric of your nightgown as he pulls you in closer. There’s a motive behind all of these actions, and you know what it is.

The possibility of it, makes your head spin.

Only when he’s just a hair widths away, does he speak on it. “Can I?” He doesn’t need to clarify, but he does anyway. “Can I kiss you? I really want to.”

And so do you. More than you’ve ever wanted anything, you think. It just seems… Right. Like how you used to fantasize about it when you were a little girl. Underneath the stars with the wind in your hair, held so tenderly by someone who viewed you as gold. Was there a better way, to give away your first kiss?

Was there a better person out there, to take it?

“Yeah.” The word comes out shakier than you want it to, but it can’t be helped. You’re shaking in your boots, brain running a mile a minute as your heart races even faster. The moment you’ve been waiting for, one you thought would never come, right here within your grasp. “Yeah, you can.”

Just what he had been waiting to hear.

Toby moves slow, giving you all the time in the world to back out if you wanted to. But you don’t, you stay still - albeit shaking a little - watching him with the sweetest doe eyes as he closes the distance.

And when he does, it’s more than he could’ve imagined. He gives you the softest, gentlest kiss he can muster up. Just a little peck against your soft lips, smiling to himself when you let out a little squeak of surprise. Absolutely adorable. It’s hard not to want more. “How a-about one more?” He’s asking when he pulls away, and you look so starstruck it’s no surprise that you’re nodding back to him shakily - eyes dazed.

So he does. And then again, when you give him permission. Then again, and again, and again. Peppering your lips with kisses that linger more and more with each one that he plants. Savouring how soft you are, how easily you melt into his grasp. How you just can’t stop shaking, even as you beg for more.

Toby loses count of how many kisses he gives you, but at some point he coaxes you into parting your lips - making you gasp when his tongue kicks into your mouth, hands flying up to grasp at his shirt. He can taste the smoke on your lips, coating your mouth like a film. Walking you through the motions as his grip on your waist pulls you in closer, getting greedier and greedier with each moment that passed.

It was hard to keep a slow pace, even if it was just the two of you for miles, with all the time in the world.

And so, when you start to get the hang of it - your tongue sliding against his sloppily with little moans catching in your throat - he pushes you further. Pressing his body against yours until you’re falling backwards, gasping into his mouth when your back hits the ground. But you don’t pull away, no, you pull him closer - your body buzzing with adrenaline as you reach up to grasp at his shoulders with trembling fingers.

He’s pulling you down further as gently as he can, but he knows deep down that he couldn’t be satisfied with just a little make out session. He needed more, and he’d reckon that you do too. There had to be a reason, that you were bending to his will so easily. He had something you wanted, and he was more than happy to give it to you.

One hand stays cradling your face, but the other rests against your thighs, slowly inching up higher and higher - dragging the fabric of your nightgown upwards with it. Exposing the smooth skin of your thighs to the night air and his touch, not stopping until it was resting in the crease between your hip and leg. So close to your core that you’re jolting, whimpering against his lips before he pulls away to trail kisses down your jawline. Sweet and soft, just like the rest of his touches, but they set you on fire nonetheless.

“T-Toby-“ You murmur softly, breathing quivering as his lips move down lower, down your neck, grazing against your collarbone.

“Mhm?” He mumbles against your skin, pulling away only a little bit, just so that he can look up at you with hazy eyes. “Is it t-too much?”

Maybe. But you wanted more regardless.

“N-No.” You choke out, before taking in a deep breath to try and calm yourself down. You breathe it out slowly, but even then your heart is still racing. “It’s just…” You squirm a little and try to bring your legs together, acutely aware of how his previous actions had hiked the skirt of your nightgown up - so much so that you knew your panties were exposed. “I feel… No one’s ever seen…”

He knew that. And that’s what was making this so magnificent. First to lay eyes on your bare skin, first to touch it. It was like he was going through a checklist, seeing how many of your firsts he could collect tonight. So far, he was on a roll.

“Here.” He leans up a little, and before you can even blink he’s reaching down to grab the hem of his shirt - then he’s peeling it off in one fluid motion, shaking out his hair after and tossing the fabric to the side. “Now we’re e-even.”

Maybe, but he just sent you into even more of a frenzy. So much bare skin to look at now, filling in all of the gaps of what you had been wondering about. Your eyes rage over every muscle, every scar and mole, breathing going more and more ragged the more you drank him in.

If you were shaking before, now you really were, your mind practically short-circuiting from the sight before you.

“Hey.” You’re trembling so much that you know there’s no possible way to hide it, your whole body doused in a suffocating mix of anxiety and a desire you couldn’t quite understand. So lost in your own mind, preemptively running over every worry and concern that it’s hard to bring yourself back to the present. The present, where you lay beneath Toby, sticks pressing into your back through the thin barrier of the blanket below you.

His palm cradling your cheek, is what brings you back down to earth. So warm, so gentle, cupping your face with a firm pressure - tugging you out of the war waging inside your mind. The touch coaxes your eyes back to his - your frantic, glossy eyes, meeting his. He didn’t look nervous at all, not how you were, nothing but an almost pitying warmth brimming his irises. Gazing down at you like you were just a scared little mouse, caught beneath the paw of a lion. “A-Are you scared?”

His hand trails down your face, callouses brushing against your jawline before his thumb presses against your bottom lip. Melting away the tremble you hadn’t been able to stop on your own. “You don’t gotta be.”

“I-I know.” You murmur out back to him, putting all of your focus into the good thoughts, instead of the bad. Like how nice it felt, to be touched by him. How the warmth of his body felt like it was made to meld into yours. How he slotted against you like a puzzle piece falling into place - like he was always meant to be here, with your thighs fallen open around his hips.

The comforting scent of cigarettes and cologne, the softness of his hair as it tickled your skin. It was all so good. Your anxiety was just trying to spin it into something terrifying. Which, wasn’t exactly unwarranted. You had never laid it all bare like this, never letting anyone close to the chance of seeing you like this. You were giving yourself up, everything you could offer him, right here beneath the moonlight. You’d return home as someone different - life splitting into two separate halves. Before Toby, and after him.

You manage to lift a hand, trembling as you cautiously reach up to grasp his bicep. Fingers curling around his arm, gripping onto him like he was the anchor that would keep you from floating too far away from shore. “I just… I’ve never..”

“I know.” Toby’s lips stretch into a soft little smile, his eyes crinkling around the corners. If your mind was a little less foggy, you might’ve been able to pick up on the hint of self-satisfaction that lay hidden behind his irises. But, the adoration that masked it was laid on thick. Too thick for you to see past it, when he was looking at you like you were the only woman he had ever seen.

His head dips down low, nuzzling into the crook of your neck with a sigh, stubble scratching at your soft skin when he parts his lips. Placing the gentlest kiss against your shoulder, soft and slow - letting the feeling linger. “You th-think I’d hurt you?” You feel his lips brush against your skin when he speaks, feel the warmth of his breath fan against you.

You feel his right hand slide from your waist, down lower, slow enough for you to barely notice. Languidly creeping over the curve of your waist, across the swell of your hips, down the expanse of your thigh. Feather light, barely there, but causing more damage than he could ever know.

“I don’t know.” You breathe back to him honestly, your whole body tensing when his touch doesn’t cease. It doesn’t slow down, or speed up, just keeps the same space - mapping out the grooves of your skin beneath the pads of his fingers. “I really don’t know you that well.”

Toby lets out a low chuckle, nosing up your neck and into your hair, breathing in the scent of you deep. Letting it fill his lungs as his hand does finally find a home to rest, right in the crease between your thigh and your hip. Closer to your core than you’ve even ever allowed yourself, teasing in the way he rubs slow circles there - just inches away from his final destination.

“I guess you don’t.” He agrees softly, punctuating his words with a gentle nip to your earlobe. Absolutely relishing in the way you gasp and jolt when he does so. So sensitive, it was unreal. So intoxicating, that any guilt he might’ve felt for going this far was gagged by the intensity of his desire. It was so easy to make you fall apart. Him, armed with knowledge, and you - his little experiment. Graced with the honour, of showing you just how good you could feel if you just gave in. “B-But, you’ve let me get this far. Why?”

Great question. Because you were stupid? Naive? Desperate for companionship? Too curious for your own good? It was probably a teeming mixture of them all, fuelled by a distain for how restricted your life has been up until now. Never getting to choose, always just blindly following orders.

This, was a choice you could make. Something so monumental, it made up for all of the years you had spent shackled. And Toby… He just seemed perfect for it. Showing up in your life like some sort of messenger from god, teaching you that life isn’t just to be lived within the fence posts of your property. Pulling the blindfold off, opening your eyes to everything you could have if you just reached out and took it.

Your saviour, or a devil in disguise? For now, you were content with not knowing the answer.

He felt godly enough to be an angel, sinful enough to be hell spawn. Addictive enough, that you pull him in closer, even as your thighs shake.

“Because I like you.” Mind too hazy to delve into the complexities of your thoughts, you just melt it all down to core of it all. You like him. Liked his low, raspy laugh. Liked how his eyes crinkled up and his cheeks dimpled when he smiled. Liked how he always toed the line between messy, and put together.

Liked how he made you feel. How he gave you freedom. Never told you ‘no’. Just let you indulge in anything your heart could desire. You liked how he made you feel important. Gazing at you every time you spoke, like you were the focal point of his universe.

“Th-That simple, huh?” Toby lets out a gentle laugh, before pulling away a little so that he can look at you once more. So beautiful, it made his gut twist. Bathed in the moonlight, spread out beneath him like an offering. Your nightgown hiked up to your hips, white cotton panties on full display for his eyes to feast on. Still swaddled in his flannel, hair messy and sticking to your forehead with a nervous sweat. Skin flushed. Eyes hazy. Gorgeous. “Well, I like you too.”

He didn’t think it would work. That he’d actually manage to get this far, and now that he had - his mouth was drier than a desert. The calm and collected facade he was maintaining, slowly but surely crumbling apart. Because on the inside, he was buzzing with a mixture of lust and adrenaline - his thoughts foggy, his brain feeling like it had melted into a thick goop. You’re looking up at him like he’s some sort of god, like he’s the answer to all of your troubles.

He wasn’t. Far from it. But he could play the part. “So pretty.” He breathes out in awe, using his free hand to draw a trail in goosebumps from your neck to your chest. Pausing, eyes flickering up to yours for a second, before he takes the plunge.

Cupping your breast with his hand, he gives it a soft squeeze - and when you let out a surprised little moan, he all but crumples. His fantasies had been laughable, no where near as good as the real thing. You were so soft. Just like he knew you’d be, and yet so much better all at the same time. So supple and pliant, just giving way to his touch when he starts to knead the flesh gently.

And the sound of your moan - all quiet and timid - he was sure it would be ingrained in his mind for years to come. Pinging around in his skull, making his already compromised mind go all but blank. You were an absolute dream. Damn near heaven sent, and right now, you were all his.

He did not deserve to get this lucky. “That f-feel good?” He murmurs to you, his voice low and shaky - buckling under the weight of all the effort he’s putting into being as gentle as could be. If he was a worse man, he’d already be fucking you by now, but he really didn’t want to scare you off - and besides, he’d be stupid if he didn’t savour this. He was extremely doubtful, that an opportunity like this one would ever come again.

Toby watches your every little change in expression; how your eyebrows wrinkle together and your eyes squeeze shut, the way you gnaw at your bottom lip to try and quell any more of those sweet little sounds from slipping out. You’re breathing in shaky through your nose, skin painted the most enticing shade of pink, before you give him a little jerky nod. “Ah- I w-wanna hear you say it.” He rolls his thumb over your nipple, grinning when it makes you let out a hiss through your teeth. God, and he’s barely even done anything. Would you even be able to take more, if he gave it to you?

Your eyes flutter open, and christ. You give him the most pitiful look. Bottom lip jutted out in a soft pout, eyebrows pinched together in embarrassment - the blush on your cheeks only growing darker. He’d be lying if he said that he didn’t feel all the blood in his body rush south, just from that look alone. That’s what he’s been wanting to see. You, so helpless, squirming from a mixture of bashfulness and arousal.

And, it just gets better.

“It-“ You swallow thickly and turn your head to the side, trying to avoid his gaze as your breathing grows heavier. Barely able to focus on anything other than the feeling of his touch, kneading your sensitive flesh beneath his palm. “It feels good, Toby.”

“Yeah?” He grins down at you, giving you a firmer squeeze just to watch your jaw clench. Trying so hard to keep as quiet as possible. Too shy to let all those dirty noises spill out into the night air. That was alright, he’d crack you soon enough. “H-Have you ever touched yourself like this before?”

Your gaze shoots over to meet his, and he doesn’t know how it’s possible - but you just get pinker. Absolutely bathed in warmth, heat radiating off of you as you stare up at him - aghast by what he’s just asked you.

“Toby!” You chastise softly in embarrassment, lips tugging down into a little quivering frown. It was becoming more and more clear to you, that your shyness was just egging him on more. Stoking the flame inside him with the heat seeping out of your skin.

“What?” Toby laughs softly, his gaze dropping downwards. “G-Gotta know what I’m workin’ with.” You feel it as his fingers pause, then twitch - obviously contemplating something. Only a few moments later, he’s tugging the neckline of your nightgown down - letting your bare tits spill free. You gasp, and your stomach flips, before you’re letting out a soft little whine and shifting beneath him. More exposed than you’ve ever been, and you don’t even have to meet his eyes again to know exactly what effect that has on the man above you.

You hear it when Toby’s breath catches in your throat, and you can feel it when the bulge in his jeans grows - hard and insistent against your thigh. “F-Fuck-“ Toby all but hisses out, his voice strained and his chest feeling tight. He feels like he can barely breathe, heart beating so loudly he’s half convinced it’s migrated to his ears. Because you’re telling him that he’s the first man to ever lay eyes on tits so perfect? The first to touch them?

He’s got to be the first to taste them too. He barely gives you any time to react before his head is dipping down low - his patience slowly waning with each inch of skin he uncovers. Cupping your bare breast, he captures your nipple in his mouth, and you squeal.

It’s the strangest feeling. His tongue lapping at skin so sensitive, so warm and wet. His fingers kneading the fat of your chest as he sucks on it gently, soft moans rumbling out of his lungs and muffling against you. So insistent, growing less gentle with each moment that passes. His control slipping as desire consumes him, because every inch of you is just so sweet.

And the noises you’re making are even sweeter. Gasped out, shaky little moans - ringing through the air and flooding his ears. Too overwhelmed now that you can’t hold them back anymore, that pit in your stomach becoming more and more prominent every time you let another moan spill free.

You were waging a war. So nervous, but equally as excited. Fighting against the shame - the guilt - because each touch from him was better than the last. So much more than you had ever expected, so much better than what you thought you needed. “I-If you want me to stop, tell me, okay?” Toby’s voice barely even reaches your ears when he pulls away, leaving your chest slick with spit. “S’Getting hard to keep m-myself in check.” His hand on your thigh - which you had honestly forgotten had still been resting there - inches closes to your panties, making it all too clear just exactly what he was getting at. “Just w-wanna touch you all over.”

His other hand drifts down your body and settles on your waist, before he’s meeting your eyes once more. “You gonna let me?”

You were. You don’t even have to think about that question twice. Even with all the nervousness, even with the knowledge that you were taking a dive you could never come back from. You needed this. You needed him. You didn’t want to be the girl you were before - so blissfully ignorant. You wanted to be his.

“Yes.” You breathe out, chest heaving as you gaze up at him. The moon backlighting him, lighting up a sliver halo behind his head. “Please, touch me.”

You could’ve punched him in the gut, and it probably would’ve had the same effect. Your words wind him, all of the air leaving his lungs in a shaky exhale as his grip on your waist tightens. Fingers digging into your skin, possibly harder than he should’ve, but if he didn’t ground himself he thinks he may just fall apart.

Despite the air being so clean and crisp, it feels as if it’s been thickened by smoke when he breathes it in. Those words sound like scripture, the most beautiful plea he’s ever heard - straight from the lips of an angel.

His hand is moving before he can even think, fingers grazing over the shape of your pussy through your panties - absolutely enraptured by the way your hips jolt from the lightest touch. And when he presses them down a little firmer, all rational thought is lost - because they’re wet. Dampened by the arousal seeping out of your core, barely concealing your throbbing cunt. Begging for him, your body was, even as you trembled beneath him.

Coaxing him closer as it enticed him with a slickness that wet the pads of his fingers. So ready for him, all he had to do was take it.

“J-Just relax.” He whispers out to you, though it’s also self-assurance, because he too has started to shake. It’s far from his first time was a woman, but it’s his first time like this. With someone who doesn’t know what to expect, what to feel. Someone he was about to ruin. “Can you do that for me?”

His thumb adds the slightest pressure to your clit, enough to make you gasp, before he’s following that up with some slow circles to get you warmed up and used to it. Nothing too intense, not even peeling your panties off yet, just giving you a taste of what’s to come. “I-I know that feels good.” He’s leaning down to bury his face in your neck again, working you over so gently it would be considered teasing if you weren’t so sensitive. “Just feel it, baby. I-It’ll only get better.”

A shaking hand comes up, threading into his hair and curling into a fist as your lips part and you let out the sweetest little whimper. Pulling him in even closer, encouraging him as his lips part to lave at your skin. Your whole body feels like it’s on fire, a pleasure never before seen creeping up your thighs and settling deep in your gut. Only getting more and more intense every time his fingers rolled against you.

You can barely even think, too consumed with the fact that he was pulling this ecstasy out of you so easily. Hands roaming your body like he knew it better than you did. Maybe he did.

He pinches your clit lightly, and you choke out a surprised moan. He definitely did.

“Toby-“ You gasp as your thighs begin to shake, heat rising to your cheeks as you feel yourself grow wetter - dampening your panties, his fingers, and the insides of your thighs. So embarrassing, but it’s difficult to even worry about that even more. Because your brain has turned to static, your body feeling like jelly - light and tingly, like you’re floating on air.

You’re practically panting, unable to regulate your breathing properly as you struggle for air, feeling suffocated by the intensity of what he’s making you feel. Your fingers tug at his hair harder, your other hand clawing at the ground below you - desperate to find anything to ground you but it’s all futile. You felt like you were getting too hot, whole body feeling restless, that knot in your stomach tying so tight it was hard to withstand. “T-Toby-“ You gasp out nervously, your voice wobbling. “W-Wait- It’s too much-“

Oh, he knew what that meant. Too much? No, not enough, but so close to where he wanted you to be.

“Shh-“ He hushes you softly, gently scraping his teeth against your neck as his fingers double their efforts. More pressure, just a little faster - tight quick circles that make you cry out. “W-What did I tell you? Just feel it. You-You’re alright.”

You let out an absolutely pitiful whine, tears brimming your eyes from this onslaught of pleasure you’ve never encountered before. Hips bucking, abdomen tense, clinging onto him with a grip you’d feel bad about if you didn’t know he couldn’t feel it. Clawing at his scalp as he sucks at your neck, bringing you higher and higher. Stoking that flame and making it burn hotter.

And then-

When you cum, it’s the most glorious sight. Toby has to pull his head out of your shoulder to make sure he gets a good look at it - at the fruits of his labour. You, cumming for the first time, because of him. You let out a moan more beautiful than any of the other ones you’ve let out this far - so unrestrained and pure, ripped from the depths of your lungs as your back arches and your shoulders bow.

Your eyes all but roll back, a whole new wave of slick gushing out of you and soaking your already ruined panties. It’s so intense you forget to breathe for a second, so intense that your vision goes white and your ears ring. It’s nothing like anything you’ve ever felt before, so raw and all-consuming - feeling like every single nerve in your body was firing off at once. “S-See?” Toby doesn’t let up, rubbing you gently through it all to prolong it as long as he can, eyes glued to the image of you falling to pieces beneath him for the first time. He couldn’t wait to make it happen again. “Told you it’s just gonna g-get better.”

Still in a state of bliss, you barely even notice when your panties are tugged off, but the cool air hitting your slick cunt does catch your attention. Immediately, your eyes snap open, still watery as you watch Toby run two fingers against your bare folds. “You trust me?” He asks you, meeting your gaze as he slides them against your slit, gathering up all of that sweet, sweet essence and getting them nice and wet.

It didn’t take a genius to know what he was planning next, especially with eyes so dark - honed in on your blissed out expression like a predator. You swallow thickly, and force yourself to nod. “Yeah?” He hums back to you, teasing your entrance with the tip of one finger - just barely pressing inside, but enough to make your hips kick in surprise. “I made y-you feel good, didn’t I?” Again, you nod. “You gonna let me d-do it again?”

And of course, what else can you do but agree? Gasping for breath as you struggle to keep your eyes open, your whole body set alight by his touch.

So perfect, Toby’s in awe. So perfect, willing, desperate. So his. Melting into a puddle beneath him, staring up at him like he’s a god amongst men. If he had a little bit less restraint, he’d just skip this next part and sink his cock into you instead. The insistent throbbing in his jeans sure wanted that, and he’s this close to just giving in. But god, that look in your eyes. So devoted, like you’re trusting him with your entire life, not just your body.

He’s got to treat you kindly, even if his patience was wearing thin. “Just stay relaxed.” He murmurs softly, circling the tip of his finger around your entrance. “J-Just wanna make you feel good, ‘kay?”

“O-Okay.” You gulp, and force your limbs to lessen up on the tenseness just a little bit. Trying to relax, just like he told you to. Breathing in deep, before letting it all out slowly.

“Atta girl.” Toby smiles down at you, eyes trained on your face as he slowly presses his finger in. Sinking it in slowly, right up to his knuckle, watching the way your nose scrunches up a little in discomfort. So cute. “I-It’ll get better.” He assures you, pulling it out just to press back in again - gently pumping it in and out of your heat. “A-Always does.” You were so tight it was making his brain feel fuzzy. Just taking one finger, but even still. He thinks to himself that even if he had just tried to skip to the good part, he’s not quite sure that it would’ve even worked. He doubted you would’ve been able to take him.

He gets you used to it. Watching as the discomfort slowly melts away, feeling a bolt of excitement go down his spine when he crooks his finger just right and your body arches. Waiting until you’re all relaxed and blissful, before he’s adding another one.

The second finger makes you let out a soft whimper, eyebrows scrunching together all over again as the stretch becomes more noticeable. Such a foreign feeling, you almost want to wriggle away from him, but you know his words must be true. It’s going to get better, and so you endure it until it does.

And oh, he was right. Even quicker than before, the discomfort melts away and the pleasure bears its fangs. Sinking in deep when he curls two fingers inside of you, rubbing right up against that sweet spot he had found before.

Thrusting them in and out of you as he watches from above, his own breathing just growing heavier each time he pulled them out and saw how wet you left them. Absolutely soaking him, your virgin cunt just eagerly taking whatever he was giving you.

He might just be the luckiest man in the world.

He really makes sure you’re ready for it, before he slips in the final finger. Scissoring you open with two, waiting until your whines of pain subside until he’s pushing you a little further. Making sure all the tenseness in your body has faded away, before he’s getting you even fuller.

The third finger has your eyes blowing open wide, your pussy clamping down onto the digits as if trying to push out the intrusion - your hands flying up to grasp at his shoulders to try and stop him.

“Toby- Toby-“ You choke out, gasping for air as your nails scratch at his arms. The other two had been manageable, but this made your stomach twist. This stretch burned, made tears spring to your eyes. “Wait-“

“Too much?” He asks gently, his own breathing ragged as he watches you - sniffling and trembling even though he hasn’t even got past the second knuckle. God, his dick was probably going to make you sob. Was it cruel, that he was looking forwards to that? “Y-You got it, though. I know you can take it:”

You let out a little whimper and shake your head, your vision fuzzing up around the edges a little when he presses just a little deeper. Barely even any movement, and you’re tensing up all over again. “No?” He asks, eyes flicking up to search your face. Your expression is all scrunched up, bottom lip quivering as you take in shaky gasps of air through your nose. He knows he should feel bad - and a part of him does - but you just looked so beautiful it was hard to pay attention to the guilt. “You want me t-to stop then?”

Again, you shake your head, making him immediately raise an eyebrow. “Then what do you w-want me to do here, darlin’? Gotta tell me.”

“Just-“ You take in a slow breath, and try to lessen your death grip on his shoulders - both of you unaware that your nails had broken skin. “Go slow. Please.”

Even slower than he already had been? That’s a bit of a task, but he’s not trying to break you before he even gets inside you, so he listens. He gently lays your body back down - which had sprung up to grasp at him - and blankets it with his own. Using his free hand to massage your tits again as a distraction, leaning down to capture your lips with his when he starts to move again.

He swallows up every little noise you make as he slowly rocks his fingers into you, licking into your mouth to keep you focused on the pleasure rather than the pain. Drinking you in, working you over, keeping you nice and relaxed so that he can finally get completely buried in you. And when he is? He feels it when you melt. Feels it when your body goes completely lax, letting out a languid moan into his mouth once you finally accept the feeling of him stretching you open.

By this point, he’s aching - having ignored his own arousal for so long that he can’t help but rut up against your thigh. His moans mingling with yours from the barely there pressure against his cock. It’s enough to sate him though, when combined with the sounds you make and the feeling of your cunt squeezing around his fingers.

Curling them just right, he feels it when your walls start to flutter. He rubs against your gspot on each pump in, groaning into your mouth when you just get tighter. The hairs on the back of his neck standing up when your moans go higher in pitch. “Toby- D-Don’t stop-“ Oh, you sure loved to beg, didn’t you? It was just second nature. Good thing you sounded so sweet when you did it.

“Y-Yeah? Gonna cum for me again?” He gasps out against your lips, eyes wild with lust when he pulls away minutely - a thin line of spit connecting the two of you for a moment before it breaks. “S-So fucking gorgeous. C’mon, wanna watch you break.”

You grant his wish, cumming for the second time with a force that steals all the air from your lungs. Looking just as beautiful as you did the first time, but feeling even better - the walls of your cunt pulsing around his fingers to the tune of your heartbeat as he continued pumping them into you.

And Toby just can’t take it anymore. He met his limit a long time ago. “Baby-“ He pants as he pulls his fingers from your still twitching pussy, quite literally shaking with desire as he grasps at your thighs - leaving your skin slick with your own release. “You gotta- Please, let me have you.” His turn to beg now, but he was so desperate he could barely think straight. Barely even got the words out before his free hand was flying to his belt buckle. “You-You’ve got no idea how bad I need you.”

You could make a good guess. Toby was trembling and tense all over. The most affected you had ever seen him. Normally he was the composed one, he was the one who sat back and watched as you twisted yourself into a knot. But right now? He was crumbling apart right before your eyes, just as vulnerable - so eager he’s already getting his belt undone with a jingle that rings through the night air.

And this was what you’ve been wanting, right? This was what all of this had been leading up to, what he had been getting you ready for.

It felt so glorious, to be wanted.

You don’t say much, instead just letting your actions speak for themselves. With a blush on your cheeks, you let your legs fall open wider - an invitation. Permission, for him to give you everything, because you were ready to give it all to him. “Christ-“ He chokes out, so starstruck by the display that he fumbles with the button of his jeans for far too long. But, once he figured out how to make his hands work again, they’re tugged down faster than ever before.

You barely get a glimpse at his underwear before he’s pulling those down too, and the sight you’re greeted with next makes you let out an audible noise of surprise. You’ve never actually seen a dick before, but you didn’t need to, to assume that Toby had a nice one.

A trail of fuzz from his belly button trailed down to the main event, so long and thick that it made your eyes widen. Already slick with precum when you watch him reach a hand down to stroke it a few times, his shoulders immediately going lax as a deep groan escapes his mouth. The arousal still lingering within you spiked, despite having already came twice. Because that was a sight that was so dirty, yet so captivating that you just couldn’t tear your eyes away.

Toby, eyes glazed with pleasure, pumping his cock right between your thighs. The moonlight bouncing off of his sweat slick skin, casting shadows against all the right places - making it that much more prominent when his muscles contract with each movement of his wrist. “I-I’ll be gentle, promise.” His voice is low and gravelly, and with how he’s twitching and shaking - you’re not quite sure if you believe that promise. But, you nod anyway.

And you let him, when he slots himself snugly between your legs. Let him grind his length against your slick cunt, gasping every time the head pressed against your clit. Your heart pounding, because now that you could feel it right up against you, you’re wondering how it’s going to work - how all of that is going to fit inside you. His fingers were already a challenge, but this was a whole new beast and you both know it. “Re-Remember what I said.” He’s murmuring out as he reaches down between the two of you, grabbing hold of his length so that he can line up properly and swipe the head against your entrance. “Relax.”

And that’s when it really all dawns on you. The feeling of his cock prodding at you, just barely pressing in, makes it all so real. You’re about to lose your virginity. You’re about to give it all away, to this boy you just met yesterday, while your family sleeps peacefully at home - none the wiser. You’re about to change irreparably, and he’s about to leave a permanent mark.

First date, first kiss, now this. He was taking it all, and you were just letting him.

Should you feel ashamed? “You ready?” You probably should, and yet… You don’t. Because for some reason, you think it was supposed to all play out this way. You believed in fate, sometimes more than you believed in god himself, and so there was a part of you that believed that this was all supposed to happen. You were supposed to go to the willow, and you were supposed to meet Toby there. You were supposed to say yes to meeting him late at night, and so by proxy - it was fated that this would happen too.

You could only hope, that the rest of your journey would be kind.

‘You think I’d hurt you?’ You hoped not. You’d pray to leave all of this unscathed.

But, you also wouldn’t be surprised, if god had abandoned you already.

“I’m ready.” You whisper to him, effectively closing the door on your last chance to back out. Tearing your old self to shreds, when you let him split you open.

Toby nods, silent now that he’s on the brink of tainting you beyond all repair. Knowing deep down, that this is the exact outcome he had been hoping for. You, the purest thing he had ever laid eyes on - sacrificing yourself to someone so rotten. Was he saving you? Severing the ties of your devotion to the life you lived? Or was he just dragging you down to his level? Finding a sick sense of gratification knowing that he was the reason you could no longer ever be what your family wanted of you.

He didn’t know the answer. But even if he did, he’d never tell you.

Slowly, with one hand on your waist, and the other one reaching up to cup your jaw - he nudges his hips forwards. Enveloping the head of his cock in your heat, and having to stop there for a moment for him too, not just you. You were tight. Almost suffocatingly so, wrapping around his length like a vice - making him let out a hiss through gritted teeth. And you, you’re already shaking, breathing going choppy as you try to be good and relax like he had told you to - but it’s hard to, when he’s stretching you open even more than his fingers had.

“G-God, you-“ Toby’s fingers dig into your waist, leaving crescent shaped indents in the soft skin as he tries to steady his breathing. Only once he’s sure you’re not going to burst into tears, does he sink in a little deeper. Then, a little deeper. A little more - relishing in how absolutely unreal you felt around him. So warm and wet, squeezing him with velvety walls that fluttered each time he got another inch buried. Easily, the best he’s ever had, and it’s not even a competition.

Just halfway in, and he feels it - the resistance he had been waiting for. And you’ve been taking it so well so far, but this is going to hurt you, he knows that for certain - even if you don’t. “Hey.” He stills his hips and rubs his thumb against your cheek, gazing into your watery eyes framed by wet lashes. “It’s-It’s gonna hurt for a sec, but then the tough p-part’s over.” He watches as your eyes fill with apprehension, eyebrows furrowing together at his little warning.

You’re already struggling, already shaking from the feeling of him filling you this far, you weren’t quite sure how much more you could take. “Ah, Ah-“ Toby’s hand slides around your head, threading into your hair to cup the back your neck - cradling you like you may just break if he were to add any more pressure. “You’ve been s-so good for me, I know you can take it.” He leans down, pressing a lingering kiss just beneath your ear. “And after, I-I’ll make you feel so good, you won’t even remember the pain.”

It’s so easy to believe him, when his words come out so soft and tender. Weaving around your head like a halo, dissuading the anxiety with each sweet assurance he murmured against your skin. It’s so easy, to just sink into it completely. Relaxing in his hold as you reach up to wrap your arms around him and bury your face in his shoulder. “I-I’ve got you, don’t worry.”

And then he’s moving again, nudging against that barrier within you until it gives way - tearing open a path for him to glide the rest of the way into you. You let out a pained cry that muffled against his shoulder, your grip on him tightening as your arms squeeze him in a near constricting hold. “Shh, shh…”

Toby’s trying to comfort you, he really is, because he knows that you’re going through the wringer. Tears wetting his shoulder as you claw at his back, thighs squeezing around his hips like you’re desperately trying to bring your knees together. But, in all honesty, it’s a little hard to think of the proper words to say. A little hard to think of anything at all.

Because he just felt it. He felt it as he tore your innocence to shreds. Sinking in until his hips met yours, suffocated your pulsing cunt as he gasped into the crook of your neck. It was indescribable, really, the feeling. Not just on the physical realm, but emotionally as well. He had just, effectively, made you his. Sure, you could run off with someone else after this. Go home, get sold off to some farm boy your parents liked better. But he would always know, that he got you first. That you were his, before you were anyone else’s.

That you’d always be his, even if you weren’t. “You-“ He gasps out a breath against your neck, teeth grit as he holds himself still - trying to get used to the feeling of you clenching around him so good. So good, he’s putting almost all of his effort into not shooting his load right then and there. That just wouldn’t be fair, for a lot of reasons. “God, you feel ss-so good.” Gently, he begins to pepper your neck with kisses. Down to your collarbone, nudging his flannel out of the way so that he can lave against your shoulder too. Just letting you really feel it as he rubbed soft circles against your hipbone, soothing and tender - coaxing out the relaxation smothered by the tenseness in your muscles. “You o-okay, darlin’?”

Yes. No. Maybe. You couldn’t begin to describe what you were feeling, because it was something you hadn’t ever even come close to encountering. You felt so full. Stuffed to the brim. Your body was slowly adjusting to it, so the pain was ebbing away, but that feeling? That fulfillment? That stuck around. So overwhelming. All consuming. Mind-numbing, in the way he’s closer to you than anyone else had ever been before.

Nearly suffocating you with his presence. His hands on you, lips on you, cock inside you. His scent, his warmth, his heat. Toby was everywhere. Leaving not a single spot untainted, like he was trying to make sure he had touched upon every inch of your skin. Staking his claim wherever he could.

And it felt wonderful. It was bliss, in the purest sense of the word. Toby cradling you, holding you close as he murmured sweet nothings in your ear. Carding his fingers through your hair, fingernails softly scratching at your scalp. Doing everything he could, to make sure you were alright.

It felt like being cared for.

“I-I’m alright.” You finally manage to get out, sniffling back the last remnants of the tears you had shed. But, he was right. That pain? You could barely even remember it now, and he hadn’t even gotten started yet. “Feels… Feels good.”

You feel it when Toby’s lips curl up into a smile against your skin. Slowly, he lifts his head. Then, he’s using his grip on yours to gently pull you out of the crook of his neck. Getting a good look at you, now that he finally had you right where he wanted you. And, maybe it was hormones, but somehow you seem even prettier than before.

Hair in disarray, fanning out against the blanket below you. Skin flushed and stained with tear tracks. Eyelashes damp and clumping together. Your plump lips were red and bitten raw from a combination of his teeth and your own.

Your once clear, unblemished skin, had a line of hickeys spanning down your neck to your collarbone. Dark red and angry, so vibrant he knew they’d be hell to cover up. For just a second, he has a moment of clarity, realizing that he may have just dug a grave for the both of you with that little stunt.

Ah, well. He’d cross that bridge when he got to it. If your dad wanted to shoot him, he’d take it with arms spread wide open. Because he could be blown to smithereens, and yet he’d still be the winner.

He had already gotten you, whether your parents wanted him to have you or not. Game over.

“Told ya’ it would.” Toby smiles, and it’s then that he nudges his hips forwards just a little more - his expression widening into a wolfish grin when he got to see your eyes go hazy because of it. “I-I’m a lot of things, but I’m n-not a liar.” He leans down, pressing the tip of his nose against yours. “So? Gonna let me g-give you more?”

“Please.” You don’t even think before the word slips off of your tongue. Mind wiped clean, then filled completely with nothing but thoughts of him. Anticipation, for what else he has in store for you. “I wanna…” You look away shyly, gaze darting away when eye contact with him became too much to handle. Especially with what you were about to say next. “I want to be yours.”

Toby hums softly at that, his eyes teeming with warmth as he gazes down at you.

“You w-wanna know what I think?” Slowly, he draw his hips back, his length sliding against your quivering walls until just the tip remained - the sensation causing a shiver to ripple through your body. “I think you already are.” With his forehead pressed to yours, and his hands holding a firm grip on your waist, his hips roll back into you in one fluid motion. Stretching you open around him once more, but this time - it doesn’t hurt. This time, it leaves you breathless.

You can feel every inch of him, hard and throbbing, pressing up against places you didn’t even know existed up until now. “I think,” He repeats the motion again, pulling back just to fill you right back up again - watching how you melted more and more with each thrust in. How your eyes went glassy and your jaw dropped slack, ragged gasps turning into the sweetest moans. “I th-think you have been, since I first saw you.”

And he’s right. You had been. Letting him worm into your mind and make a home there, from the first word you ever heard him speak. He had caught you so easily, it was almost laughable. Throwing out a net laced with charm that made your heart flutter, snaring you within it with the first touch he ever placed upon you. Leaving a little breadcrumb trail to follow, which led you to be right here.

Right here, in his arms, trying to remember how to breathe. “G-God, you feel amazing.” Toby’s head nudges into the crook of your neck, and he’s panting against your skin once he finds a good rhythm. His voice, low and raspy as it reverberates against you, multiplies the swarm of butterflies already fluttering around in your gut.

You want to respond, to tell him that he’s making you feel just as good, but it’s a little difficult to get the words out. You can barely breathe past the moans hiccuping out of you, vision blurry as sinks into your heat over and over again. So good, it was making drool pool in the corners of your lips, especially when the head of his cock was nudging up against the sweet spot inside you. Making your whole body jolt, nails sinking into his skin where you were grasping at his shoulders.

You don’t have to tell him, it’s clear as day. Reduced to such a mess it was nearly pitiful, your body sliding against the blanket below you with each press in. Skin flushed pink all the way down to your tits, which rippled every time his hips met yours. Face wrinkled in pleasure with tears dotting your lash line - gasping, moaning, crying out for more.

An absolute angel. He could practically see the bloody pile of feathers beneath you, from when he had ripped your wings off.

A glint of light catches his attention, and for the first time throughout this whole endeavour his eyes hone in on the one piece of jewelry always hanging around your neck. Always present, like a collar you didn’t own the key to. A golden crucifix, sparkling in the moonlight, shifting against your chest every time your body jolted. The way it caught the light was near blinding, like it was taunting Toby. Forcing him to truly think about what he was doing, right here and now.

But here’s the thing; he knew. He was well aware. The issue was, Toby couldn’t be swayed by the weight of sin. He didn’t even believe that there was a god that tallied it all up. If there was, then that being had damned him before he was even born. Never even giving him a chance to live a normal life like everyone else.

And so even if there was a god, he couldn’t give less of a damn about what was viewed as wrong, and what wasn’t in the eyes of his creator. If anything, he took pleasure in how absolutely abhorrent his actions were. Snatching up a devoted follower, steering her off the right track - just for his own selfish desires.

A false prophet, promising things he could never fulfil.

“T-Toby-“ And you just ate up every single word. You didn’t know any better. So, you’re grabbing at him, crying out his name as his length splits through your heat. Letting him take you apart, just to rebuild you in his image. “I-“ You’re trembling all over, thighs squeezing around his hips like a vice, nails scraping against his skin - sure to leave pink streaks by the morning. Maybe, you’d even draw blood. That was alright, you could scar him up if you wanted to. Leave a mark on him, just how he had done to you.

“Feels good, d-doesn’t it? He drags his tongue up your neck, lapping up all the salty sweat that had accumulated against your skin. When he reaches your jawline, he sinks his teeth into your skin with a sharp nip - adding to the collection of incriminating marks he had already painted you with. “You’re so b-beautiful.”

You gasp when his hips meet yours with a force you hadn’t been expecting, stars speckling your vision as your body arches up towards him. He takes that in stride, wrapping both arms around your torso and pulling you flush to his chest - hips never faltering as he picked up the pace. Face buried in your neck as he stole all the air from your lungs. Teeth scraping, nails scratching, his sweat mixing with yours with each movement he made.

The scent of his cologne muddling the scent of your perfume. Wiping away that pure floral smell and replacing it with something new. With the smell of you becoming his. “Can’t- fuck - Can’t b-believe you’re letting me have you.”

Over and over again, the head of his cock slams against your g-spot, the walls of your cunt tightening up around him more with each press in. He was setting you on fire - no - he was drowning you. Maybe both, somehow, at the same time. “S-So fuckin’ lucky.” He’s got you so overwhelmed that you’ve practically become brainless, incoherent, unable to do anything but just pull him in closer. A snivelling mess of drool and tears as your lungs struggle for air - crying out his name over and over, like a desperate prayer.

Clawing at him like you were trying to tear him to shreds, leaving his back and shoulders with a mosaic of pink and red stripes. Digging in deep, like maybe if you tried hard enough, you could sink your hands under his skin to get even closer.

He let you, if you could. It would be the least he could do, for all that you’ve given him.

“Toby- I can’t-“ You gasp out, eyes squeezing shut when a wave of pleasure sends a jolt of heat throughout your entire body. It’s unrelenting, this ecstasy. So intense that you barely even know what to do with yourself. Grateful for Toby’s arms holding you so tightly, because you were sure you’d crumble to pieces if he wasn’t.

“R-Remember what I said, darlin’.” He doesn’t let up, sinking his cock in right to the hilt on each thrust. Hips smacking against yours, filling the peaceful night air with the sound of skin on skin. So filthy, as is the sticky noise you can hear each time he separates you. It makes your stomach flip, a heady mix of arousal and embarrassment simmering in your veins. “Just feel it. Sh-Show me how good I’m making you feel.”

You can feel his breath against you neck, hot and heavy, strained groans slipping in between his inhales. “I c-can feel it, you know? You’re so close again, aren’t you?”

You nod jerkily, burying your face into his neck as you start to feel the sensation that was becoming familiar to you now. Heat brewing and brewing, tingles sparking up across the entire surface of your skin as that knot in your stomach tied tighter. “That’s right. Don’t gotta hold back. I w-wanna feel you fall apart.”

You were already squeezing him so tight, he was fighting to hold off his own release. All of the muscles in his body so tense, teeth grit as he tries to hold on just a little longer. He wouldn’t tip over the edge until you did first.

But that shouldn’t be too much of a challenge, considering that you were already falling apart right before his eyes.

One arm unfurls from around you to wedge between your two bodies instead. His palm sliding against your slick skin, down your abdomen until it was slipping between your thighs. Finding your clit easily, he rubs a tight circles against it in time with his thrusts. Hellbent on breaking you down completely.

And you do. You sob, thighs trembling with the force of which you’re squeezing his hips when you fall to pieces. Practically convulsing beneath him as you choke and gasp for air, pressing your face deep into the crook of his shoulder. Mouth hung agape, Toby can feel your drool smearing against his skin, but he doesn’t mind in the slightest.

He’s too focused on how glorious your cunt feels when it spasms around him. Sucking him in so tight, pulsing around him to a rhythmic beat - like it was trying to coax out his own release with each dizzying throb. He fucks you through it, not giving you even a second of reprieve even as you start to feel a little lightheaded. Head in the clouds, you barely even register it when his hips start to stutter.

Once, twice, three times his hips meet yours, before he’s pulling out a the last second - groaning deep against your neck as he strokes his cock above your still quivering cunt.

You feel it as his release hits your skin. Splattering against your pelvis and the insides of your thighs. Warm and sticky, the sensation makes you squirm and scrunch your face up, especially when it starts to drip down towards your ass. “H-Hah- Fuck-“ Toby hisses out into the crook of your shoulder, shoulders jerking with each rope of cum that dirties you.

When he’s finally sated, he crumples. Just barely refraining from crushing you as he holds himself up on his elbows, his whole body trembling with the aftershocks of his orgasm. Panting raggedly against your skin, clearly just as winded as you are. “Christ, th-that was good.”

He takes a moment to just breathe you in, trying to calm his racing heart as he nuzzled against your jawline. Planting a soft kiss here and there, stitching you back together with each tender touch. One of his hands smoothes up the side of your body, caressing your curves until it’s sweeping up your neck and finding a home cupping the back of your neck once more. So gentle, you’re already relaxing even though coming back down to earth feels like an impossible feat to you right now. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” You run your hands down his back and take in a deep breath. You can feel the raised welts where your nails had dug in too deep, skin split and torn in a way that had you wincing. Good thing he couldn’t feel it. “Sorry.” You murmur out. “I think… I think I made you bleed.”

“Oh, that’s alright.” Toby chuckles lowly, leaning up so that he can flash you a cheeky grin. His thumb rubs against the side of your neck, right against one of the hickeys he left behind. The skin feeling pebbled under his touch. “At l-least I won’t have any problems hiding them.”

And just like that, he’s made your blood run cold. You hadn’t thought about it at all, when he had been sucking at biting at the sensitive skin of your neck, because it felt too good at the time to realize that maybe there would be consequences from it. Maybe, this secret would be harder to keep than you originally thought.

“What are you talkin’ about?” You ask him softly, voice wobbling. You can feel how sore the skin he’s pressing against is, and now that you’re really starting to pay attention - you’ve come to realize that your neck is actually throbbing. Little stinging patches wherever his teeth had met your skin. “Toby… You didn’t mark me up, did you?”

You ask even though you already know the answer, hoping that maybe you’re just being presumptuous. Praying that he knew he was supposed to be careful, and so he had been.

He hadn’t.

“M-Maybe a little.” He doesn’t look the least bit apologetic. In fact, he looks pleased with himself. Proud, that he’s just damned you. Does he not get it? Not know how absolutely detrimental this is for you? You wouldn’t be able to face your parents like this, you couldn’t face anyone like this. “Couldn’t-Couldn’t help myself.” His hand trails down your neck, that smug little smile staying on his lips the entire time. “I think it’s a good look on you, bein’ a-all messed up.”

Messed up, you were. Still slick with sweat, still feeling the stickiness of his cum on your skin. Dirty. So dirty.

“What’s wrong with you?” You hiss, lips tugging down into a frown as you shift a little - trying to nudge yourself out of his grasp. “Don’t you get it? I’m screwed. If my daddy sees them-“

“Stop worrying a-about your dad.” Toby huffs out in annoyance, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He finally peels himself away from you, sitting back on his calves as he tucks himself back into his boxers and zips up his jeans. “What’re you gonna do? Just l-live under his thumb for the rest of your life?”

He’s far too nonchalant for your liking, shrugging off your concerns like they weren’t a huge deal. They were. A massive deal, actually, and yet Toby wears the same passive expression as he does his belt back up.

“No, but I can’t just-“ You prop yourself up on your elbows and take in a quivering breath. “If I go back home like this, I’ll probably never step foot outside again.”

“Then don’t.” His neck jerks to the side when he moves to grab his discarded t-shirt, a motion that happens twice more before he’s letting out a little whistle. Like every time something like that’s happened around you, his face scrunches up in embarrassment for a moment before he’s continuing on with what he’s doing.

“What?” You blink up at him, watching as he tugs his shirt back over his head - shaking out his sweaty hair afterwards. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t go home.” He says it so simply. As if it was an obvious option that you were too stupid to consider. His eyes lift to meet yours, and you feel your pulse quicken. Because his gaze isn’t light and playful, it’s serious - maybe even a little nervous. What he’s saying right now, he means it. And that, might just be the most terrifying thing you’ve encountered tonight. “Stay with me.”

You’re left speechless, sat in a frozen stupor as you wait for him to laugh it all off and tell you that he’s joking. That doesn’t happen though. His expression stays the same, dark eyes glinting in the moonlight.

“Don’t…” Your lungs feel tight, each breath feeling like a chore as you try to fully comprehend what he’s saying. What that offer entails, you could only imagine. But one thing was for sure - it was insane. “You’re nuts. What the hell are you saying?”

“You really want to g-go back to them?” He asks, breaking your gaze to reach into the bag he brought and grab a fistful of napkins. He then leans forwards, using them to gently start wiping away the mess on your skin. “They don’t care about you. I-If they did, they wouldn’t treat you like a dog on a leash.”

He wipes down your thighs, then venturing between them and making you jolt when he cleans up the most sensitive parts of you too. Despite his gentle care, his words still make you frown.

“You don’t know them, Toby.” You mutter, narrowing your eyes a little. He hums softly at that, before crumpling up the dirtied napkins and setting them on the blanket beside him. “You don’t know me.”

Toby raises an eyebrow, his eyes flickering between your still debauched state - dress rumpled, marks up your neck - and your face.

“Don’t I?” He answers back to you lowly. “I-I think I know you better than they do, even if I haven’t known you l-longer.” He reaches forwards, using his index finger to tilt your chin up. “Does your ‘daddy’ even know, that you’ve got dreams of moving out to the city?” Your bottom lip quivers. “Am I right to assume that he’d j-just laugh in your face if you ever told him?”

Yes, he was. That’s why you had always viewed it as a pipe dream, something unobtainable. That is, until you were faced with someone who actually took you seriously. Actually listened, to all of your thoughts and wishes. Encouraged you, made your wildest fantasies seem like real possibilities.

You don’t have to answer. The look in your eyes tells Toby everything. That silent resignation. Knowing that you couldn’t argue, because every rebuttal would be a filthy lie. “They don’t want you to l-live. They want you to be just like them.” He leans down a little, and his gaze is paralyzing. Freezing you into stone where you sat below him. “C-Complacent. Never venturing outside the fence.”

Toby knows he’s being cruel. Asking even more of you even though all you’ve done is give and give and give. He wasn’t even sure what the plan would be, if he convinced you. All he knew, was that he wanted to keep you close - and your family wouldn’t make that possible. They were an iron wall standing between him and you, forcing him to only be able to indulge in you under the cover of darkness.

He wanted you all the time, now that he had gotten a taste. He wanted you every day, every minute.

He wanted to set you free, just to pull you into his arms. “But, it feels nice t-to stretch your legs a little, doesn’t it?”

Again, you couldn’t argue with that. Within the span of just a few hours, Toby had brought you more excitement than you had experienced in your entire life. Never once before had you felt so carefree, so fulfilled. So… Happy. Because for once, you were able to just stop worrying about it all, and give in to everything you’ve been pushing away. Selfishness, impulsivity, ignorance to the consequences.

Is this how Toby lived, every single day? It was such a stark contrast to what you knew was awaiting you at home. A stern, watchful eye. Rules upon rules you could never stack up to. Constantly trying to fit into the mould of the person you were expected to be.

Living for others, not yourself.

“But… What are you saying?” You ask softly, reaching up to tug Toby’s flannel further over your body. “Are you asking me to just run away from it all?” A soft night breeze blows past the two of you, and it’s warm, but it still sends a shiver down your spine. “I can’t…”

“You can.” Toby’s thumb smoothes against your jawline, before his hand trails upwards to tuck a few sweaty strands of hair behind your ear. “I-I’m not saying you have to, I’m just saying that if you want to - if you’re tired of it all,” His hand moves again, this time to brush against your bottom lip softly. “I’d be m-more than happy to take you away.”

He leans down a little more, and you feel his soft curls tickle your forehead before his lips meet the skin there. Placing the softest of kisses, like it was the final step of the spell he was casting upon you. Even if it wasn’t, his next words sure were. “Besides, you said you wanted t-to be mine, didn’t you?”

This wasn’t fair. Not in the slightest. How were you ever supposed to say no to him, when it seemed as if he was offering you the world? How were you supposed to deny him, when his offer seemed to hold no consequences? He made it sound so easy, just leaving everything behind without a second thought. Like he had everything covered, and you wouldn’t have to do so much as lift a finger.

All you had to do, was say yes. Just like before, when he had offered you one night of freedom. You had said yes, and he delivered. Now, he was proposing an entire life of it, it seemed. Would he deliver on that too?

Could he? Or would you be running back into your mother’s arms just a week later, sobbing into her dress because she had been so right all along?

It’s an enormous leap to take, one that could easily leave you tripping up and falling to the pavement. Scraped up knees and bloody palms when you finally drag yourself back home.

And yet,

“Where would we go?” You ask him, gazing up into his eyes from below. Those same deep, dark eyes that had pulled you in from the start. Always so paralyzing, every time you looked into them, because it always seemed like he knew something that you didn’t. Like he knew exactly what words were going to leave your tongue, before you even speak them.

That was because he did. He did, because you gazed up at him like he was your entire universe - the moon, the stars, and everything in between. Looking to him for the answers, because from your perspective, it seemed like he knew everything. So much more than you could ever hope to. It’s what he had been doing from the start - guiding you, holding you by the hand as he pulled you deeper and deeper into the shadows outside of your home. Never letting you worry, because his confidence was enviable.

Asking you to blindly trust him, because the outcome would always be worth it.

It seemed like that was true, so far.

“Anywhere you w-want.” Toby hums, reaching out with his free arm to hook it around your torso - pulling you close to him once more. Finding it absolutely captivating when your cheeks heated up because of it, as if he hadn’t just roamed every inch of your skin. “A-Anywhere your little heart desires. D-Different city, different state. You pick, and I’ll do the driving.”

“You’re insane.” You whisper, your breathing coming out short and shaky. “I.. I don’t have money, we wouldn’t have anywhere to stay.” Your eyebrows furrow together. “You just met me.”

“All true.” Toby chuckles softly as his fingers rub gentle circles against your waist. “B-But, i think we’d figure it out just fine.” His lips curl up into a warm smile. “And yeah, I know I j-just met you - but it only took a few s-seconds for me to realize something.”

He leans forwards, and presses a kiss to your nose, then your cheek, then your jaw - painting a trail all the way to your lips, where he planted a soft peck. “You’re too sweet for this t-town.” He breathes against your lips. “You deserve so much more than what’s b-been planned for you.”

“Yeah?” You murmur back to him. By now, you’ve almost grown accustomed to how rapidly your heart was pounding against your ribcage. It seemed that was just a side effect, of being around Toby. “What do you think I deserve then?”

And that’s such an easy answer, Toby doesn’t even mill over the thought.

“To be free.” His fingers curl into the fabric of your nightgown. “To be l-listened to.” He presses his forehead to yours. “To be encouraged.”

Everything you’ve ever wanted, every desire you’ve kept hidden, offered up to you on a golden platter. So easily obtained, after years of believing they could never be in your grasp. “You deserve to live, and I’ll sh-show you how to. All you have to do, is let me.”

“Toby…” You mutter, looking off to the side. “What if-“

“Ah-“ Toby cuts you off, pinching your chin lightly between two fingers. “N-No ‘what if’s. What do you want to do? What would you do, if you knew there were no c-consequences?”

“But there are consequences.” You huff. You’re trying your very hardest to stay as rational as you can, but with each word that he speaks it seems to be slipping away. You had to force that rebuttal out, and even when you do it tastes bitter on your tongue.

“N-Not-“ Toby’s hand jerks, making his grip on you tighten - eliciting a soft gasp from your lungs. “Not in my books. So, tell me. What do you w-want to do?” You already knew, but it felt like the deadliest sin to speak it. “Do you w-want to go home? ‘Cause I’ll take ya’ home. But don’t come cryin’ to me if you re-regret it.”

You would. You knew you would. Even if, somehow, you managed to keep this little rendezvous a secret. Going home, meant lying every single day of your life. It meant straining to keep up a perfect facade, never knowing when you might slip up and ruin it all.

You had barely survived one dinner with them, even before you had let Toby roam your body like it was his god given right. With so much stacked against you now, you don’t think you’d even be able to look your mother in the eye without spilling your guts right at her feet.

And then, she’d rifle through the carnage with her pretty polished nails - washing off the blood to reveal your transgressions.

You couldn’t do it. You just couldn’t. And you think, that Toby already knew that too.

“I… I don’t.” You breathe out those words so softly, they’re nearly swept away by the night wind. But, with how close Toby is to you, it’s easy for him to grasp onto them before they drift away. “I want… I want to know what else I’ve been missing out on.” You lean into him, chest to chest, swatting away your worries as you eliminate the distance between you. Letting the heat he brings to you, drown out your apprehension. And the smile gives you when your body presses to his? It’s so warm, so appreciative, it’s hard to believe that you were making the wrong decision.

Because no one else has looked at you like that. Only him. “I want you to teach me.”

Toby’s splay against the small of your back, drawing you in closer, helping you shift until you’re practically sat on his lap. He felt like a king, right then. With the prettiest woman he had ever known, sinking into his grasp so easily. Agreeing to be his alone, and he had barely even lifted a finger.

Clearly, the concept of karma had given up on him completely.

“I-I’ll teach you.” He breathes. “Anything you want t-to know. Darlin’, I’ll show you th-the world.” His smile widens into a grin, and he’s letting out a soft disbelieving chuckle. He had gotten so much more than he bargained for with you - his wildest dreams come to life. “Are you saying yes? ‘Cause th-that’s what I’m hearing.”

“Yeah.” You answer back to him, quick enough that you aren’t able to second guess yourself. It felt right. It felt like fate. “Yeah, I’m saying yes.”

You break into a grin that mirrors Toby’s expression, a few giggles of disbelief slipping past your lips before you’re practically launching yourself at him. All but tackling him to the ground with a hug that nearly winded him from the force of it.

But as his back hit the ground, and you toppled on top of him - your hair cascading down like a curtain of silk - he knew that the leap he took was worth it.

And you hope, that the same is true for you.

————————

holyyy shittttt. are we all still alive after that? because I’m not LOL that was a BEAST to both write, and edit

the reason I made it so long is because I didn’t want to split this section of the story up and make you wait for part three just to get to the goody goody

and now you’re saying, ‘noctiva?? part three??’ yes 😌 BUT fair warning and disclaimer, it will not be out for a little while. I haven’t even started writing it yet, all I’ve got is the ideas for it pinging around in my brain. plus, I’ve got a lot of requests to start working through, and my coms open in a week, so sweet thing is gonna be taking the back burner for a little

regardless, thank you all for all of the love I’ve received for this little story of mine. I never expected it to ‘blow up’ I guess? and I never imagined to have so many people anticipating the second part

so! as always, thank you for reading <3

[loves4ge]

celebrity!au cw: swearing, gojo is disgustingly in love

gojo satoru is thoroughly and utterly fucked. there are only ten minutes left until he has to go live for an interview—promotional material for his new movie. the only problem is you, his sweet costar; you had him wrapped around your finger.

despite being each other's on-screen love interests, your schedules hadn't matched until now to do an interview together. and gojo fucking satoru, one of the biggest celebrities to ever set foot in the hall of fame, is nervous. because he knows when gets out there, you'll be waiting for him. you've always been early to places (not really, he's just late).

it's not just the thought of you that has his stomach twisting in knots, it's his obsessive—and frankly, scary—fangirls who hang onto his every look, every glance, every word. even if no one finds out about his itsy bitsy crush, they will. and they will ruin you.

and he can't do that to you! this is your big break after slaving away in minor roles with a no-name cast. you're in the spotlight too much after only have seen the light being shone on other people, there's already too much pressure on you. the sudden onslaught of fans can be overwhelming, but the critics? they're so much harsher than what you expected.

"gojo, get out." it's his manager. deep breaths, he advises himself as he lifts out of the chair and to the set. where you are. god.

"so, i hear the set can get pretty crazy?" the interviewer smiles as he says it. he has that mall santa vibe; a little bit jolly and just slightly discomfort inducing.

your laugh slips out and gojo swears he almost died there. but he makes a conscious effort to not look at your lips. he sneaks a glance anyway.

"that's right! you should see the mess this man makes," you say, nodding your head towards the white-blond man. he should've worn his sunglasses, at least that way he could've stared at you in peace.

"hey! i'm not at fault here," gojo defends himself, guffawed. he crosses his arms as if he was trying to protect his chastity. or defend his honor, i suppose.

"mm, that's what they all say." your playful tone has him weak in the knees and he's thanking the gods that he's sitting down otherwise he would've folded right then and there.

"so geto suguru was here earlier and he mentioned that there was some steam in the movie, eh?"

stay professional, stay professional, stay professional.

"oh yeah. there are a couple of scenes for sure. it wouldn't have turned out as well as they did if it wasn't for satoru. i've never done an intimate scene before and he was just so comforting and really, a strong source of support for me."

fuck.

gojo breaks into a grin, his hand platonically (he hopes) pats your shoulder.

"it actually wouldn't have gone so well if it wasn't for our earth shattering chemistry. and our intimacy coordinator. yep, you heard it here first guys. bridgerton isn't the only show that gets one!" he's not entirely sure if the comedic route was the one to take after your heartfelt confession but he can't seem to respond as sincerely as he wants on television.

your giggle makes up for it though. and the light slap against his thigh. god. he has to resist the urge to ask you to do it again.

---

10 MINUTE COMPILATION OF GOJO BEING DOWN BAD FOR HIS COSTAR (ft. geto)

[r0-boat]

Ok what about the kings rut headcanons? Please please please please please please 🥺

You asked and you shall receive!!

Whb Kings Rut Headcannons

Cw: darker than I anticipated, breeding, biting (hard biting like drawing blood), mentions of cannibalism, yandere behavior, Demons becoming more primal in rut, especially asmodeus, free use, Dubcon/noncon

Satan

If you didn't think he would get any more violent. You're dead wrong with all this extra testosterone coursing through his veins. All he wants to do is fight things. With a legion of loyal subordinates who also want to fight and destroy, Gehenna's streets become the purge; all their rage and stress are released at once.

And they like this! Starting brawls in the streets, clashing horns and gnashing their teeth as they wrestle each other with their bare hands. Demons are challenging Satan for his claim on you bonus points if they get beaten up in the process.

But Satan wants more. He wants to fight something and feel like he's in danger, with no weapons, guns, or flamethrowers, just him and his bare hands going against something much stronger than himself. He wants to prove his strength to you and take you after winning a brutal fight. To smear his blood and semen onto you, claiming you as his.

The other kings are the only ones who can equal his strength, either in magic or in muscle. His temper somehow becomes shorter as he is itching to jump across the table and fist-fight Mammon.

His subordinates fear their King will hurt you, but it's the opposite. He's so gentle and needy that he whines for your attention. Dragging his tongue across the nape of your neck and burying his face to smell your sweet scent. Spinning you down with all of his strength, wrapping a muscular arm around you before harshly grinding his hips into you to reach as deep as possible. Unless he becomes provoked... Then that's a whole other story. You won't be sitting right for weeks.

Mammon

You are his possession as much as he views himself as yours. And he takes great care of all of his possessions. But you seem not too keen about being his... It's not like it's your choice to make anymore. Humans are fickle and don't know what they truly want. He can give you everything. So why haven't you submitted to him yet? Mammon becomes more pushy with his advances. He may be a pacifist, but he knows how much stronger he is than you are and is not used to the word no.

Of course, Mammon will worship you like any other night when the two of you get frisky, but you notice that his touch becomes more and more rough, from gentle caresses to harsh, grabbing and handling you like a doll. He not only likes to take care of his possessions but also uses them to their fullest extent. A demon of greed is still a demon of greed, And you are his favorite toy by far. Part of him wants to display you for all to see. Another part of him wants to drag you off into his bedroom chambers for you never to be seen again.

Maybe he sees you more as an exotic pet or a commodity. No matter how much he tells you that you own him, all demons are slave to their instincts when rut season is here. With the deep urge to mark you He will not hold back to how many teeth marks and hickeys he'll put on your body.

Once he feels those squeezing velvet walls around his cock he will never let you go. His body will quickly overwhelm you as he loses himself to pleasure. He will dress you in the finest silk gold and jewels. Then soaks his cum all over it. He doesn't care The price will probably go up with his seed seeped into the fabric.

Leviathan

In Hades, Few nobles show how much their rut affects them because that usually means feeding into their king's jealousy. Especially when they just so happen to have the same rut as Leviathan's

During this time, no one looks or talks to you in his presence. Mammon thinks about locking you away forever. Leviathan would actually do it.

I think Rut Leviathan becomes borderline yandere as he becomes more open about how much he wants you. Murmuring scary thoughts out loud of how he wants to lock you in a nice cage, throw away the key. Or cut a little piece off to always have with him. Or threaten to kill people close to you. All the while, he's balls deep inside you with little care of how fast he's bucking his hips (very wholesome, very romantic 💞)

He is hanging on by a thread, and all it takes is seeing you with another for him to lose it. And once he does, He will fuck you without mercy, drill his hips with every ounce of his being until the two of you can't think of anything other than each other. If he has to break your mind with his dick, he will.

Needy and petty, willing to do anything to get just a sliver of that attention. The usually refined, elegant demon becomes nothing but a moaning, drooling beast. He will fill you up. You will be claimed.

Beelzebub

That ferocious sexual hunger is tripled. No matter how much you seem to satisfy and he just wants more more more more more. And keep in mind this man has clones, too. He will let go, and his clones will swarm you.

He bites; if it weren't for his other clones tending and touching you, distracting the sharp pain of his teeth and breaking your skin with pleasure, you would be screaming in pain. It's honestly a miracle how he didn't lose control and consume you. Only because he finds the taste of your juices even sweeter, once he's between your legs he is never coming back up. A hand vigorously stroking his cock as he tries to ring you out and suck you dry. Coke sing you to cum on his tongue again and again until you physically can't give anymore. And he'll still want more after that.

Having a more sensitive nose than any other demon in hell, He is drawn to you like a moth to a flame. He'll smell you from anywhere. No matter how far you are, he'll still find you. He'll bury his nose in the name of your neck and start rolling his tongue across your flesh and wanting just a taste of you—the taste of something he'll never have.

It's almost as if he loses control of his powers since his clones don't disappear after he finishes. They stay with you, tend to you, touch you, fuck you, suck you, Constantly until their rut ends and their control returns. His dick will not leave you not. Even if you leave to go to the bathroom, he'll jump on you as if he hasn't seen you in years. He'll even be inside you when you're trying to eat or drink water, just slow grinding as he promised you he'd give you a break. He's trying to hold back.

At the end of his rut, he'll get super hungry since he rarely eats during his rut because all he can think about is fucking you. His subordinates and His people worry that he might lose control and eat you, so food will always be provided at his convenience when in a rut.

Lucifer

Obsessive dangerously obsessive. His angel body is not used to the intense hormonal heat that is a demon rut. He was not expecting His rut to come so strong... It has to be because of your influence. He tries so hard to fight back but all he could think about is you.

He could barely control himself and his body around you as is now it seems like his rut is trying to get him to mate with you to claim, punish and worship you. It's like two sides of him are fighting with each other. To bully you till you scream and cry for him. Another part of him screams to to praise and take care of you.

He punishes and overwhelms you to the point you cry. All the while, he praises and worships those tears that fall down your cheeks. Kissing them away as he fucks you harder, muttering about how well you're taking him, and you look so divine like this, like you were made to be nothing else but a cock sleeve.

Lucifer has been getting the increasing desire to learn every little bit about you put you under a microscope and examine every little hair on your head. To memorize every little twitch in your body and squeal you make. To learn what reaction you make when he tilts the angle of his cock just a right inside you.

He may or may not have a secret binder filled with detailed facts about everything you do or about you in general. But he always goes back to during his rut either to fill out more or read to himself to.... Relieve stress. His rats would have been a lot worse if it weren't for this binder so you're welcome... I can't imagine what the other Kings will do to get their hands on this.

Belphegor

It's cold and you're so warm... Would you be a doll and be his little cock warmer? His toys are nothing like the real thing. Sadly he can't sleep and masturbate at the same time and his wet dreams just make him wake up wanting more so why don't you stay here for a while and be there so he could use you as he pleases.

In meetings? He's snug right inside you! You're trying to sleep? Well he just woke up any needs to start thrusting right now, He's laying down and reading? Now don't be shy start grinding...

The farther in his right cycle the more active he becomes no longer are you just warming his cock now he's starting to grind into you. Feeling your walls milk him murmuring how you're his favorite toy.

Belphegor in rut is very needy. You can't leave for a second without him trying to follow you in some way. He can't bear to part with that warm tight hold of yours. Every time you try to move away from him he whines and cries out in displeasure.

I wouldn't try pushing your luck if I were you. If you tease him anymore he'll just flip you over and go crazy. Fucking you back into submission showing you who's a really in charge of you. If you keep misbehaving he's going to have Beleth join in and trust me you don't want that. He's not as nice as Belphegor is.

Asmodeus

Losing all control, He is no longer a demon at this point now a feral beast wanting one thing. A Mate. Not just anyone though... No not just anyone will do, He wants you... He wants you in the most primal way, drill you into the soil the both of you howling and pleasure. And of course since it is the season to feel lust his power is significantly stronger to the point where if he were to escape all of hell would Make people have orgies in his path. For the safety of you and frankly everyone else

So, at the start of the demon rut season, They chain Asmodeus up and lock him deep underneath the Abaddon red prison. If you still want to visit him that's your death wish but the guards think perhaps maybe you can calm him down since his rut only had gotten worse since he came back to hell.

Asmodeus is now completely naked His form in the middle of his human form and beast form as he struggles to maintain control. His smile widens as you see. His nostrils flare at your scent as he books his hips, his cock with a swollen knot at the base.

However, if you didn't visit him... He would break out and find you... Hunt you down like a hungry animal. There is no high; there is no How are you? There's just chasing and breeding. He looks at you with wide, unblinking eyes, stalking closer, ready to pounce. A beast with a sadistic thrill of the chase so much so that he'd rather toy with his prey before taking you completely. He'd rather slowly make you known of his presence that he draws near and you better find an escape plan before he gets you.

You better pray that you are not out in hell alone at night. Any other time, he would love having the kings underneath him, but now His instinct screams that they will take you from him. He will fight them with his bare hands and prove to you that he's the better male and hopes you'll choose him, give your body to him, and let him mark you as his mate.

[konigsblog]

expanding on this stupid idea...

two-dicked könig fucking your tight asshole and cunt at the same time.🩸

tw/cw; — non-con/dub-con, hybrid fucking, monster fucking, mentions of kidnapping. 18+

photo credits; x_bruisedpeach_x on x/🐦

you're not exactly sure how you got yourself into this mess. he's some sort of hybrid, with horns and dark eyes, gazing into your soul and possessing your body. he turns you into a fleshlight for himself and his own satisfaction, lifeless in his tight grip as he takes control over you every movement, pushing himself into your swollen folds, his other dick prodding at your tight asshole.

your back is against the wet grass, prior to a thunderstorm. it's still raining slightly, the light raindrops against your face, gazing dizzily into the night sky. your eyes look empty with no sign of life despite your beating heart, with könig pushing both of his large, hung cocks into you, his firm grasp only tightening when he slides himself inside, forcing your legs apart at his will.

it's a struggle, of course it is. being stuffed from both ends isn't exactly the comfiest thing ever, and you're sure as hell struggling to take every inch of his meaty dicks. your ass aches at the fullness, your stomach creating a bulge, disappearing and reappearing when he drives his muscular, sturdy hips into you. you're so small in comparison to the seven foot giant, his brute body hunched over yours to protect you from any other monster that lingers in the forest late at night, the smell of sweat and sex burning your nostrils. könig heaves and growls, a demonic and unholy sound emitting from deep within him.

your tight pussy clutches onto his heat instinctively, his heavy balls tight and full of load, that he'll shoot into both holes of yours. your body is weak with his thrusts only becoming more violating and humiliating, forced to be compliant with him as he takes over your mind, turning you into a set of holes simply for his own selfish benefit. the dark claws on his large, calloused hands dig into your flesh as he pounds into you, ploughing into your soft slit mercilessly, leaving marks that you'll remember him by, when you're locked away in a little cage for him, a captive in his grimey hands.

fuck, how is a tiny little thing like you supposed to takes loads of his milky, creamy semen? especially when it's fucked into your holes at a rapid and ruthless pace, leaving your form weak and defenceless beneath him, pleading for mercy through struggled whines and protests, his creamy stickiness oozing from the sides of your cunt, stuffed to the brim.

serve your purpose and become a slave for him.

[valalice]

ᥫ᭡ slice of life or a look into moments of your relationship, and this is the one where you bake cait a cake for her birthday.

cw. pure tooth rooting fluff. smidge of angst. fem!reader. established relationship. cait turns 24 in this. reader is said to be shorter than cait. mentions of cassandra. cait calls reader darling. it gets gushy mushy.

“those eyes better be closed, kiramman!” you hollard, from deep within the kitchen, lighter in hand as you light the candle shaped two then the one shaped four. you’d thought to put twenty-four individual stick candles on the cake just to simply amuse (annoy) cait, but decided against it for her special day; you thought of something far better anyway.

“they are!” cait assured. the fluctuation in her accent when her voice raises anything above its usual silky smoothing tone tickles you. you’re so entertained by her accent even now as you giggle, fixing and turning the cake to make sure it’s perfect, it has to be perfect, for her.

cautiously you pick up the cake stand with both hands, feeling confident enough you balance it in one hand, so you're able to shut off the kitchen light. “alright, i’m coming out. no peeking.” feet carefully shuffling out of the kitchen to the dining room where cait resides, a hand covering the candles from any mystery gust of wind that may feel mischievous enough to attempt to blow out the candles.

“still closed.” the blue haired woman huffs. you lift your gaze from straining your eyes to focus on the cake, making sure that it’s okay, and you’re not disappointed when you do. because there sits caitlyn kiramman, head of house kiramman sitting in the head dining chair looking like a small child with her hands covering her eyes, it’s a sight cute sight to behold and cherish it, eternally grateful that you’re able to witness this of your girlfriend.

reaching the table, the cake stand hits the wooden surface with a soft click, twisting the stand so it’s facing the right way at her. “don’t open yet.” you muttered, standing up straight to rush back to the kitchen to grab the lighter off the counter, deciding to ignore cait’s obvious groans of complaints for the wait; she’s never been, and never will be, a patient person. hopping from area to area where you have various candles littered around to light them, content when they all lit. flicking off the light switch, the soft candle lights turning the room to amber, you’re absorbed by the home-y atmosphere of the room, or as home-y as a generationally passed down mansion can be, but in this moment all you can feel is the whimsey swirl of love flowing through the room.

“can i open my eyes now?” cait questions, you smile at her, the question held an air of light optimism and eagerness. you take post next to her again, bending down and fixing the cake once more, so when she opens her eyes she’s met with the desert you slaved over all yesterday. “darling? i know you’re there, i can smell your perfume.” cautious hands reach out to feel for your body, a little "hmph" coming from caitlyn when she’s confirmed her words, hands ghosting over your waist. a breathy laugh leaves you, she’s caught you, you suppose.

swiftly standing up, the hands on your waist readjust around you, pulling you closer to her seated form, the meat of your thigh closest to the chair pressing against the armrest; and you allow her to manipulate your body, a hand moving from your side to hand her shoulders before smoothing down her back, comforting act you know too well to do.

“you can open your eyes now.” you instruct, there’s a ball lodged in your throat waiting to drop to the pit of your stomach as you fix your attention to watch caitlyn’s expression. your free hand subconsciously wiping down your leg, waiting, not used to be taller than her in most scenarios, so now as you hover above her it's hard to read her. but what you do know is that she's remained unmoved.

there's a jerk in her body before she shifts her body to face you, head peering up at you, her face contorted. "you did this for me?" she chokes out, tears prickling to fall from her eye.

the ball drops and it hits your stomach, hard. you start to feel sick, physically pained to hear the strained emphasis on "me" talking down on herself as if she's unworthy, sinking to your knees, now you're the one looking up to caitlyn; like normally. "oh, cait. what do you mean, for you?" your brows furrow, a hand reaching to soothe and caress cait's cheek. had you done something to upset her?

she turns back to eye the cake, it's the most precious gift you've given to her all day she thinks, all of its homemade imperfections and quirks included. "the cake—" turning back back to you, taking in your worried expression that never left your face even when she turned away from you, she looks down at the hand that had fallen in her lap when she did so, taking it in her embrace. "it's so stupidly hard to make. and you made it for me." she explains, a small laugh of disbelief and awe coming from her lips.

your eyes widen, a smile curling your lips upward. she's right, the cake you made her was hard. spending weeks testing out different recipes, ultimately mashing them all to together to create the perfect balance of airy white cake layers, sweet but not too sweet icing, the right consistency of custard, and the best strawberries from the market to sprinkle throughout the layers and decorate with; a fairly simple cake, but each separate component needed to cohesively work together to create an explosion of delicate flavors in your mouth, too much of one would throw it off, and you know cait's refined taste for less sweet lighter desserts. but even when you dedicated much of your time to her cake you kept telling yourself, she deserves this over in your head, and now, you still stand true to that.

"it's your favorite." tilting your head to the side, raising a hand to tuck some of caitlyn's cascading dark blue hair curtaining around her face behind an ear, you want to see more of her, all of her. her cerulean eyes bore down at you, the candle light that illuminates the room softens them. "you didn't need to, i would've gratefully taken a box cake."

you're smile grows, because you know her words are true, she appreciates everything you do, small or big. and you're confident you were capable of turning a box cake into something just as good as the cake in front of cait, but it was the want, the desire to give something that you knew cait loved, even if it was just a cake. with everything that's happened; the loss of her mother and the loss of her eye, you wanted her to indulge in her childhood favorite dessert.

“i wanted to wanted to make you this cake, you deserve this cake.” you muse, squeezing the hand holding yours to affirm your reassurance of your actions.

cait squeezes your hand in return, her gaze fixed on watching her thumb rub circles on the back of your hand, the depth of your words seem to sink in, the true reason on why you’ve poured your all into her birthday, accounting for every down to the little minuscule details; this is far more than just a cake. she doesn’t even remember telling you her favorite cake, and she prides herself on her sharp memory; it must’ve been her father, or perhaps her mother who had said it in passing, and you remembered it. of course you did. when she gazes back to you, you’re already looking at her, she feels warm. maybe it’s all the candles you lit, maybe it’s the way you look at her the same way, always adoringly, like she herself had been the one to paint the night sky with all the stars, you always manage to cross all her bounds and break all her strategically placed bricks that's supposed to make her indestructible and make her all flustered, even if you’re unaware to your effect. but, now? she’s positive she’s the one admiring you, from where you’re sat, legs kicked underneath on the wood floor (she’s sure your legs numb, but she also knows you wouldn’t complain nor move from your spot next to her) there’s a long cabinet dressed with running and decorated with flowing candle flames, creating a warm aura around you that made you look like her own angel sent to her. in this moment she’s able to fall in love with you all over again, and hopes, knows that she’ll keep doing so.

gripping the hand in her grasp one last time before pulling you into her, the hand following up your arm to yank you even closer till her free hand settles on your cheek and your lips touch in a passionate kiss. your own hands coming to grasp at her face, body lifting off your heels to kneel into the kiss, her hand falling from your arm to wrap around your waist. when you two disconnect you still embrace caitlyn, “blow out your candles.” you whisper, so close still your lips touch when you talk.

“as you wish, darling.” barely leaning into you to give you another kiss. “but,”

“but?” you question, quirking an eyebrow.

a cheeky grin sneaks its way onto her lips. “i would like you in my lap.”

“cait—”

“it’s my birthday. for the birthday girl?” she quipped, the fingers around your waist prods at it, waiting for your response, although she already knows the answer with the way her grin grew and her gap is now on full display. you sigh, and the arm around your waist frees you, standing up you stand, hands on your hips staring at cait’s proud expression.

“alright birthday girl, make room.” she’s got you beat using that excuse on you.

she scoots her chair out, the screech that would’ve been loud from the wood chair legs on the wood floor is muffled from the persian rug beneath the table, her hands working quick to pull you into your lap. allowing you to settle, perching her head on your shoulder. “better.” she muses.

“now can you?”

“i can.” she shuffles just a bit, gathering enough air to blow out her candles.

and with a big huff. . . the candles don’t go out? 

caitlyn sucks in more air, attempting again just for the same thing to happen, the flames still burn.

“what did you do?” caitlyn quizzed, more confused than ever on why her candles won’t flatter.

“i didn’t do anything.” you respond cooley, shrugging your shoulders, but it takes everything in you to not burst in a fit of laughter.

“you did.” her fingers press into your sides. “i’ll tickle you.” she threatens, and it holds weight.

you fit your bottom lip between your teeth, chewing. turning your head over your shoulder to face her, contemplating if your should tell her flat out or keep the act up. you release your lip, “they’re joke candles.”

“joke candles?” cait repeats, her voice pitching, taking in the absurd concept of joke candles. “i’ll show you a joke.” nimble fingers move across your sides.

“no! pluh—please, mercy!” you beg, wheezing out a laugh in the process.

“not a chance. should’ve thought before you placed these silly candles on my cake.” not letting up on the attack of tickles she’s giving to you.

[yandereunsolved]

"Don't Stop Me Now" — Five situations where yandere Five loses it

cw(s): yandere themes, non-descriptive self harm, mention of suicide and domestic violence

1 — someone ✗ something is trying to harm you

Pretty straightforward. 

This is the numero uno that comes along with every yandere.  

Five grew up with an abusive, emotionally absent father figure. He was pushed to be the best, the most successful of his siblings, just for an ounce of affection. He was isolated for so many years with nothing more than a department store doll. He has had to put away whatever loose morals he had to slave away in The Comission.

Then you come along and brighten up his life. No, you do more than that. You perfect it. 

Then someone comes and tries to strip that away from him?

It's safe to say you've only seen that crazed look in his eyes when you're in danger. He doesn't care about whatever mission, the greater good, or whatever the fuck when you may end up being killed. He's swift and merciless, just as he was taught. 

After he makes sure you are okay, he'll hold you to his chest for what feels like forever. He just needs to become secure again in the fact you are alive. You are here with him right now. It helps ground him so he doesn't end up going about on a killing spree. 

Yes. That has happened one too many times. 

Klaus now knows not to joke about random people flirting with you. Their spirits won't stop harassing him. In his defense, how was he supposed to know Five would just go out and slowly torture them before letting them waste away into death? Klaus didn't think Five was that unhinged. He knows better now.

2 — you harm yourself (in any way)

He keeps an observant eye on you, so it would be a miracle if you managed to accomplish anything along those lines. 

Two words. no. more. 

He has the internal breakdown. He's just standing there and staring at you. There are tears in his eyes. He wants to yell, to freak out, but his voice cracks far too much when he tries to reprimand you. 

No. Just no. 

That's the only word that encapsulates how he feels. 

He is not going to allow you to hold any sharp objects. He makes sure you have no contact with Diego. Five is paranoid and suspects that Diego had something to do with this. Somehow. 

You are more strictly monitored. 

He has an entire list of mental and physical health questions he asks you each morning. If you tell him to leave you alone or that you are tired, there's about a seventy percent chance that he'll go off. It would definitely be in a Five way. 

He'd be teleporting around you and sputtering out statistics and caring yet demeaning words. 

3 — keeping him out of the loop

Five is meticulous. 

When you keep him out of the loop—which could mean not saying good morning to him or hiding a romantic relationship—he feels so powerless again. He needs to know what is going on with you so he can protect you if need be. 

Don't even try to argue with him. 

He's older than you, so he knows best. 

He has so much more experience at anything and everything. He can solve all of your problems if you just let him in. 

Does that mean he will do the same in return? No. 

There's no reason for you to know what he is doing at any point of the day. You don't need to worry your pretty little head about it. Aka, he's doing things that are morally gray at best and human rights violations at... that's still one of the better cases. 

Just tell him. Or he'll force it out of you.

4 — things being out of his control

This ties in with every other scenario. 

He needs to be in control.

Everything has to be perfect. 

If one thing goes wrong, then you may slip through his fingers. 

That isn't allowed to happen. It can't. 

It eats away at him at night to think something could happen that he can't control. 

The apocalypse happened, and he had to spend decades just accepting that fact. Until there was a chance he could change it. 

Now he has to. He has to change, sort, and neatly put away everything. No speck of dust is out of place. If it is, then he'll end up pushing himself into fixing it, to the point of exhaustion or death—whichever comes first.

5 — escaping successfully

The only time there is a plausible chance he will resort to physical violence. 

Why, why, why, why, why, why!?

How could he be so idiotic? How did you do it? Who helped you? 

Whoever helped you is going to die if they haven't already killed themselves because they know Five is going to be coming after them. 

He will act nonchalant, like he is in control, when he finally finds you once again. He'll tease, poke, and prod at your fear, like a ringmaster taming their lion. A part of this act is the truth. He has you back, and now everything can go back to how it was. The other part of him is still devastated and wants to curl up in your lap and just be safe there.

Yandere Five: fragile—handle with care.  

✗ @clarioscharm

[innerfare]

Nightmares - Part 1

Summary: What sorts of nightmares do they have about losing you?

Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Ace, Sabo, Law, Kid

Genre: Angst

CW: SFW // that being said, caution- contains mentions of death, suffering, and slavery

——— 

Luffy:

He grins at the sight of you standing on a cliffside looking out over the water, tranquil in the peace of night. He hurries toward you and puts his hand on your shoulder to turn you around, ready to place a happy kiss on your lips, only to stop short at the sight of your face. You’re completely devoid of joy, the life and will to live sucked out of you by a force he can’t control. You’re a husk, and he’s powerless against it. He realizes the darkness isn’t from night, that there are no stars glimmering in the sky, that the world has had the goodness sucked out of it, yours along with it, leaving you empty. He wakes up with tears in his eyes and buries his face in his pillow to muffle his sob. 

Zoro:

It was an accident, and he watched it happen. If he’d been just a little stronger, a little faster, a little better, it never would have happened. It was an accident, but it was his fault. He stared down at your lifeless shape covered by a funeral shroud, grinding his teeth in rage at the sight of all those flowers left by mourners. You would have loved to have seen those flowers, to have picked them up, buried your face in them, and inhaled deeply. You would have loved the weather that day, too, bright and sunny, as though the universe was taunting him. When he wakes up, he’s in physical pain from the amount of tension in his muscles. 

Sanji:

You’re in the clutches of his brothers while his father watches on in approval, and he’s trying to save you but to no avail. Suddenly, he’s seven years old again- too small, too slow, too weak to put up a fight, completely at the mercy of his brothers. Only, they aren’t tormenting him, they’re tometning you, and from the looks on their faces, they sure are enjoying it. The look on your face, though, is one of complete anguish. And then you scream in pain, and he’s awake again, sitting up in bed with a sheen of sweat on his skin, the image of your face in such pain burned into his brain. He doesn’t register that it was only a nightmare until he puts eyes on you, and even then, it takes him several days to recover from the nightmare. 

Ace:

It starts off normal, him approaching you on deck and wrapping his arms around you, intending to say a joke in your ear that will have you giggling and him grinning proudly. But then you shove him off and sneer at him. He doesn’t recognize you, doesn’t recognize the look on your face as you look up at him. You look disgusted, completely and utterly grossed out by the mere idea of his arms around you. You begin taunting him, saying all the things he’s used to others saying but never you. “You’re a monster. You were never supposed to be born. How could I possibly love someone like you?” When he finally wakes up, he doesn’t thrash around or cry. He’s completely paralyzed by the nightmare, by the fear, and accustomed to the feeling of rejection, even if it hurts more coming from you. Even when he wakes up, the nightmare isn’t really over.  

Sabo:

You’re on stage in an auction house being sold off to the highest bidder. He’s there, but he can’t get to the stage, as if he’s trapped behind invisible glass. He’s screaming his head off and throwing himself at the glass, but everyone just ignores him, the slave auction continuing as though he’s not even there, Sabo completely powerless against the injustice of it all. You’re crying and struggling in your shackles, but it’s no use. He wakes up thrashing, ready to fight anyone who stands between him and you. When he’s met only with darkness, he doesn’t relax but instead gets dressed and wanders off to find some work to do, the sound of your shackles clanking as you struggle against them stuck in his head like a sick song, the sight of Celestial Dragons bidding on you like an object lighting in him a fire that will burn down every auction house in the world. 

Law:

Bang! He never sees the nightmare, but he always hears the gunshot. He wakes up in a cold sweat, shivering beneath his covers, the taste of metal lingering in his mouth and the gunshot still echoing in his ears. He’s awake, but he’s back in that treasure chest, and this time, you’re the one laying dead in the snow. Alternatively, you’re in a hospital bed, writing in pain, screaming in agony, calling out his name, pleading with him to save you, and he’s in sea prism stone handcuffs, forced to watch you succumb to an illness only he can save you from. Again, he wakes up in a cold sweat, the sheets tangled around his legs, trapping him and making him feel like he’s still in that nightmare, completely and utterly useless. He has to climb out of bed and walk it off, might even train a bit with his sword to regain a sense of control. 

Kid:

It’s never like it happened with his first love, Victoria. And it’s always some way new. You fall overboard during a storm and drown, Kid diving into the water to save you but sinking due to his devil fruit ability, Killer diving in to save him but leaving you to die. You get deathly ill and he enlists the help of his ally, Trafalgar Law, to save your life, but he betrays Kid and kills you. He gets captured by a crew of enemy pirates, and when the crew comes to save him, you get killed in the crossfire. The nightmares just keep coming like this, you dying because he couldn’t protect you or expected someone else to do it for him. And each time he wakes up, it is with a renewed certainty that the only way to keep you safe is to do it himself.  

———

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

[endlessdreamworld]

Under the Veil

An 18+ fic starring Aventurine X Fem!Reader as husband and wife. Minors DNI, sort of a continuation of the general headcanons post I wrote CW: infertility, A pretty harrowing dead dove do no eat flashback involving graphic depictions of sex trafficking, non con and SA for past Aventurine, as well as a brief mention of drugs. Wordcount: 4.5k

You felt grateful for your husband’s embrace now more than ever. It was warmth you desperately needed. It was security you didn’t deserve, not when you feel like you’ve robbed him of something he deserved more than anyone else in the world. Last but not least, it muffled your quiet sobs as you processed the reality you should have been expecting all along. After all, you and Aventurine have been actively trying for kids since the day you got married over three years ago. Something was critically wrong, but you both believed that this was something money could fix. You had already spent so much money crafting the perfect nest for all of the little ones you promised to bring into the world together. You promised him no less than half a dozen kids with eyes as bright and vivid as his and no one else’s. You weren’t one to ever break your promises, not until today.

A fresh wave of tears spilled out of the corners of your eyes and into your husband’s shoulder. You didn’t deserve to be comforted like this – not when you failed him so terribly, but you knew if you tried to pull away he wouldn’t have it. So instead you inhaled deeply, taking in his scent of today’s chosen cologne. You shuddered when you quickly recognized the smell of lavender. If anyone knew the first thing about scented oils it was the calming and anxiety relieving factors of lavender. Between the pacifying fragrance and the feeling of his sweater made from the cashmere of some rare creature, it was a matter of time before the tears finally stopped.

It was unlike Aventurine to wear a simple sweater as part of the ensemble of his outfit of the day given just how much fun he has peacocking around, but between the softness of the cashmere and the session of aromatherapy, his feelings on the matter of your infertility were obvious. He was fully prepared for this outcome and came deliberately equipped to ease you through the heartbreak. Your husband kissed the crown of your head and stroked your back until you found yourself kissing him back on the shoulder and the inside of his neck. After a few more deep breaths, you worked up the nerve to look him in his eyes. It was a relief to see them narrowed softly, exuding as much warmth as the day you both took your wedding vows. You felt lighter to see he loved you as much as ever. “I’m sorry honey,” you whispered into his neck. He gave you a squeeze, and laughed quietly. The soft melodic lilt tickled the tip of your ear.

You weren’t the same after receiving the news of your utterly barren womb. Your smile didn’t reach your eyes and you stayed in bed more and more. Aventurine was dying on the inside seeing you struggle like this, feeling entirely responsible for it. He’s always wanted to be a father, that much was apparent. He made it known countless times well before the talks of marriage. The Sigonian was quite good at dealing with the cards he was given both literal and metaphorical. It’s rare that he misplays so catastrophically.

Aventurine knew it would be no easy task to convince you how little this mattered to him in the bigger scheme of things, how it was you who was his everything. You saw through it all, the bravado, the bluffing, the bullshit. You barely had to try and you found the pathetic shell of a man beneath the fineries and you chose to dive in head first. It was a long and miserable road to get to a point where you were both happy.  The fact that you were even engaging in regular intimacy after everything he’s been through is nothing short of a miracle.

Sex trafficking and slavery go hand in hand, and the life of a ‘pretty slave’ in the hands of society’s upper crust was one of unparalleled shame. He, of course, was mostly transparent about how… well used he was. Your husband never gave you the full details of what happened, favoring to spin the lie of how ‘he forgot’ which he hoped would become the truth like the other half dozen lies he continuously spun. 

He wanted to forget his first time, auctioned off to a man who was no less than thrice as old as he was, lusting over someone who was still more boy than man. He wanted to forget how that predator’s chest hair felt against his back, how the sweat slickened curls made him squirm while they left their slimy trails along his flesh. Aventurine wanted to forget the feeling of the man’s palm on his cheek as he forced the Sigonian’s face into the pillows and lined up their hips. He wanted to forget the pain of the violation. Most of all, he wanted to forget the humiliation of his body’s own betrayal as the high roller stroked him off, the little mewls and groans that slipped through his traitorous lie spinning lips before he made a mess on the bed. He wanted to forget the feeling of blood laced spunk dripping down his thigh that night. It was no small consolation that he at least had long forgotten that face.

 He wanted to forget the taste of sweat and salt leaking from every cock he had to suck. He wanted to forget the shapes of them, the smell of them, the leers, the smacks, the feeling of strangers tugging on his hair. He wanted to forget the ‘parties’ his master rented him out to. He wanted to forget about the streaks of jizz on his lower back, how they wiped themselves off on him leaving hedonistic tallies keeping score of some sick game they played amongst themselves. He wanted to forget the drugs needed to perform when his body would no longer cooperate. He – “Honey, are you okay?” You asked him. He had been staring off into space for a while. Whenever he gets like this, it’s pretty obvious he’s stuck somewhere inside of memories he didn’t want to be shackled to.

Ah, even now you’re worrying about me? He thought, and tilted your chin up to give you a kiss on your cheek right below your eye. “Me? I’m fine of course but what about you?” He cupped your face. “You’ve been out of it for the past week. I’ve been worried sick you know?” Truth be told, he was giving you some space but he was always ready to come running when you were finally ready to share some of the pain you’ve been carrying lately with him.

“I’ve been doing some thinking, and I think we should talk.” Oh those dreaded words he always hated hearing. You’ve almost never said them, only when your relationship was in dire straits and you needed something from him in specific. It’s been ages since he heard them.

“Right, I’m sure we do,” he said and sat down next to you on the couch. He faced towards you and rested his arm along the top of the couch. You reached into your bag and pulled out a few resources, but it’s hard for him to pay attention to what’s in your hands when all he can see are the bags under your eyes.

“I’ve been looking into some options for us,” you presented him with some printed documents regarding surrogacy services. “So you can still be a father and pass on the bloodline.” He grew utterly quiet, but you’re undeterred, “Or maybe you could sign up at a fertility clinic and see if you can be registered as a sperm donor. I know Sigonians aren’t exac-”

“Stop,” he cut you off. Your hands froze and clutched onto your well intentioned but foolish research. His fingers rubbed against the backs of yours, coaxing you into giving up those unnecessary papers. You acquiesced and let him shuffle them back onto the table. “We can go to other doctors, get a second or third opinion or whatever.”

It hurt to hear him hold onto hope like this because the chance of having your own children was slim to none. “But what if it just can’t happen?”

“Then it just won’t happen,” he smiled but you could see the pain in his eyes.

“I don’t want you to give this up, Kakavasha. I know how much your Avgin heritage means to you. I–” tears threatened the edge of your vision, and your husband shushed you. “I promised you I’d –” he put his index and middle finger against your lips, sealing them in a gentle hold.

“Ishla rhim,” he addressed you with the Avgin term of endearment meant only for the most intimate of moments. One would be lucky to hear it more than a couple of times in their life. “Let’s pray together, do you remember how? Or do you need a little reminder?” His voice is  as warm and sweet as his namesake.

“I remember,” you told him while lifting up the wrong hand.

He clicked his tongue playfully and retrieved the correct hand while kissing the other. “It’s our left ones. You’ll always see our commitment to each other when we pray,” he rubbed the pad of his finger along the skin of your wedding band seared into your flesh with the same ink that was used for his commodity.

“Right,” you nod and he kissed your forehead. You began to recite the prayer cautiously, “May the Mother Goddess thrice close her eyes for you…?”

He nodded, “That’s right. Don’t forget the part about keeping your blood eternally pulsing.”

You groaned, “You’d think I’d know the prayer by heart after all this time.”

He laced his fingers with yours pressing your palms flat together. “You do know it, but you’re feeling a bit nervous is all.” He squeezed your fingers together and peppered the backs of your fingers with kisses, one for each knuckle. “Your fingers are shaking. Let me take over.” He recited the prayer line by line, with you following along. Yet still, you didn’t seem to feel better and he could tell. 

The air grew heavier between the two of you, and you finally broke the suffocating silence. “I think we should look into alternatives just in case…” “I’m not interested,” he said, leaving no further room for discussion. “It was only ever going to be you and I.” It was unlike you to be so pushy. You were always so mindful of his needs and careful with his boundaries.

Just as you were about to try to find another angle, he leaned over you, effectively caging you against the back of the couch. “Wife,” he begins, his eyes were colder than you’d seen them before and there was a hint of desperation in the calm black depths of his pupils that made the vivid brights of his iris seem to glow. “I think you’d benefit greatly from being reminded of our wedding vows.” His eyes roamed from your eyes to your lower lip. He grabbed your chin and tilted your face at such an angle where he commanded every last scrap of your attention. “Because you seem to be forgetting the part about ‘in sickness and in health’ and that simply won’t do. How about we renew our vows, right here, right now, hmm?” Aventurine brushed his lips against the corner of your mouth. He nuzzled his face against yours, the caress of his long and full eyelashes finally pulled you from this pit you threw yourself into. You took a better look at him and saw that look again, that one a pet would give you before you closed the door on them before leaving for one task or another. It was that look that screamed ‘please don’t throw me away’ at the top of its lungs. 

How very thoughtless of you, ignoring what was right before your very eyes. You cupped Aventurine’s face with both of your hands and his eyes fluttered shut. Guilt twisted inside of your guts, knotting you in a way that made your stomach flip. It finally dawned on you just how bad of a spot you put his already tortured soul into. “I think I may need a reminder, but not here,” you patted the couch. “There’s not enough pillows.”

“Right,” he sighed in mock defeat, “What was I thinking?” Aventurine scooped you up as he rose to his feet. “Silly me.” Countless times you were the source of his comfort, his little slice of heaven molded into flesh and shaped into his home. Now here you are, in desperate need of comfort and it’s his turn to perform. The stakes have never been higher. He knew if he failed to relieve you of that all-devouring guilt of yours, then a part of you would never be the same and he was having none of it. Aventurine set you down in the middle of your marital bed and you started making quick work of your buttons. “Hey!” he called out to you in a pout, making you freeze. “Hi?” your fingers sheepishly fidgeted with the last remaining button that kept your clothes together.

Your husband approached the edge of the bed and sat down beside you. “That’s not how our wedding night went. This,” his fingers brushed aside your own as he ran the tip of his finger along the flat surface, “was my job. And you stole it from me. Guess we gotta change things up this time.”

Aventurine put his hand on your cheek and you took the opportunity to steal a little more from him. You pawed at his clothes before he had the opportunity to disrobe himself. He hummed in amusement, “Someone is very eager,” he mused, the corners of his lips curled up into that smirk of his that never failed to make you feel like a total mess. It did him well to see you perking up a bit. He playfully pushed you down onto the bed, “Roll over for me. I want to see you on your hands and knees tonight.”

He didn’t have to tell you twice. You rolled over onto your stomach, just in time to see Aventurine finish undressing. He threw himself onto the bed next to you and brushed your hair back, taking a moment to just… soak in the sight of you. Ages ago he’d lay down next to you, too scared to touch you, scared to make you dirty. You always took things slow, always left the floor open for every no he was brave enough to say. That’s why the talk of all of these ‘options’ felt so unnecessary.

“What are you thinking about?”

“You,” he quipped smoothly. It was clear his mind was elsewhere, but he seemed content enough so there was no need to press him on it. He weaved his fingers underneath the hem of your shirt before sliding his hand up the skin on your back. With his free hand, he popped open that last button you so graciously saved for him. Aventurine made quick work of the rest of your clothing and basked in the familiar sight of you. It would always only be you. He trailed his fingers down your back, leaving little paths of gooseflesh in their wake.

“That tickles,” you laughed quietly and rubbed your back against his exploring hand. As you went to roll over and swat his hand away, he held onto your wrist and kept you on your stomach.

“On your knees for me. Please?” He nuzzled the side of your cheek. This isn’t a position you took often, so it was tremendously exciting. You felt invigorated by the simple gesture of getting on all fours. Your husband placed a hand on your hip to savor the feeling of your skin and quickly clicked his tongue in disapproval. “Too cold.” He stepped away. You turned your head to see him fidgeting with the thermostat.

“It’s not that serious. I’m not cold, I’m lonely,” you whined from on the bed. He always doted on you so much, too much even – especially during intimacy. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t understand it. His words from the day you finally bridged that threshold play inside of your mind on loop during times like these. “I’ve been embraced so many times before, but this is the first time I’ve been held.”

He laughed at how petulant you’re being, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t find it heartwarming. Aventurine returned to your side and placed his hand on your back once more. He slid the tips of his fingers past your hips, past your ass, until they settled around your already damp lips. He traced his fingers along your slit and felt your slick stick to his dexterous digits. Your husband knew your body well and didn’t even need to slip a finger in to know how easily you’d take two more. “Yes, you certainly feel very lonely.” The way he said it made you want to protest his teasing, but honestly? He didn’t want to leave you unsatisfied for any longer.

The bed shifted under his weight as he joined you. You bent your arms, your front half dipping low enough so you could feel your chest settle on those oh so familiar soft silk sheets. Your husband sighed in satisfaction as he settled his hand on your shoulder. The warmth of his hands radiated through the relaxed muscles of your back. Strands of his soft blonde hair tickled the side of your face before you felt his nose rub against the left side of your neck. He placed a tender kiss right on the same spot his commodity tattoo would be and you purred in turn, your hands already clutching at the sheets as you salivated in anticipation. Aventurine gave himself a couple of strokes before he nestled the head of his cock at the entrance of your snatch, the lips swollen and puffy from arousal. He smirked into the skin of your neck.

“Wow, I don’t even have to touch you anymore to turn your guts into tangled ribbons,” he whispered in such a sultry tone before running his tongue along the artery in your neck. Your pulse raced wildly against the damp muscle oh so deliciously. He loved driving you crazy like this, loved the way he could move your heart, loved the noises he was going to pry out of your sweet lips.

He was met with no resistance as he bore his weight down on you. The head of his cock breached your entrance before he carefully sheathed himself into you. A little sigh of delight huffed out of your partially parted mouth. You gave a light wave with your fingers as an invitation. Aventurine placed the palm of his hand over the back of yours, lacing your hands together. He gave you a light squeeze and finished bottoming out before kissing the side of your neck.

It was a bit surprising feeling him stop there, and you thought that maybe he changed his mind. Before you had time to overthink it, he murmured into your ear as a reminder, “We’re supposed to be renewing our vows, love.”

Oh yes, that’s right, you were already so cock drunk that you forgot that part. “Right, it was just the –” you felt the tip of the fingers of his free hand trail land on your sternum. They felt cold against your burning skin.

“Yes?”

“The standard ones, something classic.” It was so unbelievably hard to keep your head in the corporeal realm when Aventurine’s touch was propelling you to heaven.

“Right, I’m listening. I want to hear you recite them because I think you might have forgotten.”

“For bett-” he started to drag his fingers from your sternum to your navel, leaving a pit in your stomach. He felt your weeping cunt seize his shaft in a chokehold. Your voice pitched high, “better andpoorer.”

“For better and for worse,” he nipped your ear and trailed his fingers back up the center of your torso before they settled back between your breasts. You clamped down firmly on his hand in your own, an attempt at avenging your broken focus. “Come on, what was next?”

“For richer, an-” he dragged his fingers from above to further below this time, settling just over your womb. “Richer and for poorer.”

He placed a warm kiss on your temple. “Good girl,” he cooed, tickling your hair. “Next?”

Your tongue swiped at your lower lip and then spit out the next bit as fast as you possibly could before he had the opportunity to scramble your brains anymore than he already had. “Insicknessan-” You should have known better than to try something like this. The moment you committed to spitting out your wedding vows, Aventurine had already taken hold of your swollen clit in between his fingers. You stumbled, unable to hold your hips up for a brief moment. Not that it had any affect on your position with the way he was holding onto you.

“In sickness and in health, and don’t you dare ever forget it,” he threatened.

You shook your head and then laid it out one last time, “But what if this is it? What if we can’t have kids of our own.”

Your husband grew silent, and you’re afraid you broke the moment when all you wanted was to be considerate of what he was sentencing himself to.

“Then it’s very simple, isn’t it?” His thighs rubbed against yours as he rolled his hips. The way his cock grinds against your core makes your eyes roll back into your head. “I’ll be the last Avgin. The bloodline dies with me. I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Aventurine holds you still as he rocks back and forth in a steady motion. He sounded so happy as he said it, and the last of this festering worry was stolen away from you. 

Fuck, he knew just the right thing to say didn’t he? It wasn’t fair. If only you could be half as good as he was but right now, all you could do was confess a sloppy “I love you,” into the mattress accompanied by a thin stream of drool.

He huffed a breathy laugh against your back, “Oh I know you do.” Cocky and self-assured, just the way you like him. Aventurine inhaled and lightly rolled his fingers, swirling your bead in pace with the soft rock of his body against yours. You sighed, you squealed, you sang – just for him. Oh how he loved to hear you, see you, smell you. He focused on those sensations as he tried to believe the lie he just told you. Was it a lie though, if it was one of omission? It’s not like he was lying to you outright. While yes, it was that simple, that this was what he wanted, he’d be lying if he didn’t say how painful the solitude would be.

But none of that was important, not when the scent of your shampoo tickled his senses, nor when he watched the wet spot near your face slowly grow from the steady stream of drool. It was some delightful proof of just how much you were enjoying yourself. He had you right where he wanted you, and although it was out of character for him to leave you hanging on the edge, there was something he needed to do for himself or rather for both of your sakes.

“I’m going to grab something to make things a bit more exciting,” he kissed your forehead before carefully disentangling himself from you. Aventurine had enough kink for a lifetime after all of the subjugation he went through so he didn’t own what he was looking for. A substitute would do. After all, this wouldn’t be the first time nor the last time that he would hide behind his wealth as a shield. He retrieved his favorite necktie, and swirled it proactively. It was some unintentional good planning on his part that he’s spent countless hours on sleight of hand tricks. He needed the practice now more than ever. If anyone would be able to spot his facade slipping, his fingers shaking and unsure, it would be you – his chosen life partner. “Here, let me put this on,” he said as he wrapped the makeshift blindfold around your eyes. A tool, a misdirection, a temporary respite.

Aventurine rolled you onto your back and you were none the wiser to the forlorn and broken expression on his face. He needed to cry, to mourn the family you were supposed to have. The nursery he’d disassemble by himself for your sake. He couldn’t worry you, not when you needed the comfort more, when he knew what it was like to feel small and helpless as your body betrayed what you wanted. It wouldn’t be difficult to pass his tears off as sweat, his shaking voice as swells of his own pleasure. Of course he felt good too. Everyone is more comfortable at home. He saw your fingers twitching in his peripherals, a tell that was far more consistent and obvious than the frenzied fluttering of your insides. Yes, now would be a good time.

Your husband crashed his lips against yours, a calculated act of theft as he stole your cries of ecstasy right out of your throat. Some might call it slimy, some might call it cunning, he called it commitment as he used the tortured screams of your climax to mask his own erratic breathing and whimpers of heartbreak. You fell still beneath him and hummed in satisfaction. Your fingers peeled off the blindfold, and you could finally get a good look of his smiling face. He thanked Gaiathra Triclops for giving him the strength to pull himself together so he could face you with a proper smile instead of that hollow one you’d see right through in a heartbeat. “I didn’t know renewing our vows could be so fun,” you beamed up at him, a smile as calming as the moon. He found himself nuzzling into your hand. “Romantic right?”

You laughed and nodded enthusiastically beneath him. “Wanna get cleaned up?” You gave his cheek a squish.

“Now that sounds like a great idea.” Your life together carried on. This was just another point in time, one he wouldn’t deem as suffering no matter how painful. As a gambler he weighed the risks and rewards of every encounter, every interaction. Every move was calculated, every word was said with purpose. Who knows? Maybe Mama Fenge would bless him with a miracle. After all, as the fortunate boy born on the day of Kakava he was blessed from the moment he was born. All in, he didn’t even need to remind himself as he helped you wash your hair, relishing in the smile on your face, one you gifted him with today and tomorrow and every day to come.

[ink-n-shadow]

being a buckle bunny for outlaw!141

BUCKLE BUNNY

𝜗𝜚 the one where you're the new pretty little thing at outlaw!141's camp

𝜗𝜚 pairing: outlaw!141 x fem!reader 𝜗𝜚 cw: briefest mention of smut (minors—DNI), mentions of oral (m!receiving), sleazy!141, they're all criminals, allusions to reader being "passed around", horribly unedited, bad ending

like they would find you in some podunk town out west, a pretty little thing born and raised on a farm and now trying to make ends meet working as a barmaid in a rundown saloon.

gang leader!price lays eyes on you first, noticing you as soon as he’s leading his boys inside the swinging saloon doors after a particularly successful heist. and he’s more than happy to hand over his gun belt to you once he claims his spot at the bar, barking out to the other boys to “listen to the kind lady, won’t ’cha?” he’s all “thank you, sugar” and “ain’t you a pretty lil thing” as you pour him glasses of whiskey, enough to kill a whole horse but not outlaw john price. he barely blinks as he drains his 3rd glass.

drifter!simon, who’s a long ways from his hometown and the life he used to live, is standing in the corner of the saloon, thick corded muscles nearly bulging out of the denim shirt he’s wearing as he keeps his arms crossed over his chest. he wears a thick black bandana around his face, up over his nose and completely concealing his face other than the honey brown eyes that peak out from his blond lashes. he has the hands of a man who has killed before, but his eyes are proof of the pretty face that lies beneath the mask.

gunsmith!johnny is roaming around with outlaw!kyle, one arm slung over kyle’s shoulders and the other gripping the mug of beer tight in his fist as they prowl the saloon for an easy target. it’s a usual routine for them: johnny distracts the target with his charisma and random weapon knowledge while kyle digs his sticky fingers into their pockets and robs them blind. and they usually get away with it, until price is tight scolding them from his spot at the bar and immediately turning back to you to apologize.

“m’sorry ‘bout them, sugar. been trying to train them, teach ‘em some manners—haven’t been very successful, have i?” gang leader!price would say over the rim of his whiskey, a wry smile plastered on his lips as his eyes rake over your body.

it would take some convincing from price and the other boys for you to follow them back out to their camp, promises of a little horse riding and a look at whatever knickknacks they had gotten (stolen) enough to have your arms wrapped around drifter!simon’s burly torso as his horse clops down the dirt roads and towards the woods.

and you just never left after arriving at their camp, comfortable being passed around and shared amongst the four men if it meant eating johnny’s hunted down and cooked deer meat and having price’s cock down your throat every night.

at least it's better than slaving your days away at the saloon day in and day out, right?

©️ ink-n-shadow 2024

do not copy, plagiarize, steal, borrow, or repost any of my work without my expressed permission