#do NOT ask why i swapped circle with a mole with. circle ^_^

[inktheinkling]

gaang my youtube glitched and the hosts got swapped how do i fix this

[nearlynorth]

Day Two: Role Swap

Baz Pitch was thirsty. He hungered for blood, let his fangs slide out of his gums. He reluctantly drained rat after rat until he finally wasn't thirsty anymore. Until one day he wasn't.

——— Simon I'm cold. Why am I cold? This is the first time this has happened since my magic erupted, even after I lost it. I normally wake up twisted in my sheets, sweat soaking my pajamas while Baz sleeps beside me shivering. Something feels wrong.

I do a mental check of my body.

Feet. Check. Stomach. Check. Face. Check. Wings. Not there. Tail. Not there.

I sit up suddenly. My wings and my tail are gone. My last connections to magic, gone. Tears begin to leak out of my eyes as I cry silently. I don't want to wake Baz. He sleeps like the dead, which I guess is fitting, even though he's not dead. It's the point of one of our only arguments, the fact that I think that he's not dead. He insists that he is, the self-deprecating twat.

I look over at Baz, my panic momentarily forgotten. He's sleeping in an odd position under the blankets, it looks like he has a pillow underneath him.

I feel my stomach rumble, and I pray that it doesn't wake Baz. I watch him open his eyes, and just stare at me.

Baz I hear Simon's stomach rumble and I laugh quietly to myself. He must want scones. Simon is a bottomless pit, no matter how much he eats he could still keep going.

I shift uncomfortably. There is something poking at me, making it hard to lie flat. It's pushing me up from the mattress.

I turn to smile at Simon and I have to stop and stare.

He looks different. He's still beautiful but in a different way. He's still covered by those freckles and moles that I love, but his normally tawny skin is paler. And his wings, his wings, and tail are gone.

I sit up to get a closer look at him, and he gasps.

"Baz, why do you have my wings?" Simon says to me. His voice is awash with disbelief, and Crowley, that's how I feel.

"I don't have wings!" I say indignantly, even as I get up out of bed to look in the mirror. "Crowley, I do have your wings."

Deep, blood-red wings are sprouting out of my shoulder blades, ripping twin tears into my shirt. A barbed tail in the same shade is flicking in between my legs. I'm not as pale as I normally am, and when I flick my tongue to where my fangs normally would be, I feel nothing.

I'm still staring at the mirror when he says, "Baz, I'm hungry."

I roll my eyes at him. "Simon, you're always hungry." In the mirror I see his face begin to show signs of stress, and I turn around to face him. "Simon, what's wrong?" Worry begins to creep into my voice.

"It's like I'm hungry and I'm thirsty at the same time." He whispers. Strain is evident on his face.

Is it possible that since I have his wings and tail, he got my vampirism? That doesn't seem possible, but you never know with Simon. The holes have been being filled, and Bunce's father says that Simon could get his back too. His magic always was explosive. Could this be a sign?

I walk over to him and I lay a gentle hand on his shoulder. Simon's cheeks are puffy with fangs, and he's paler than usual. "Simon, let's get you some blood, and then call Bunce."

"Penny," he mumbled around the fangs. "She'll know what to do."

I nod and lead him into the kitchen that was attached to our small flat. We had made the decision to move in with each other three years into our relationship. Crowley, if Dev or Niall could see me now. They'd say that I've gone soft. But that's true. I've gone soft for Simon Snow, and I'm finally not afraid to admit it. I was so scared for so many years.

"Snow, sit." I point at the mismatched chair that resides at our round wooden table. As he sits down, I go to the fridge and pull out a cup of blood. We had managed to find a sustainable blood source for me, with blood coming from a magical butcher in London that caters specifically to vampires. "Do you want a straw?"

"Yes," Simon's words are muffled by the fangs that are filling up his mouth. He grimaces and shivers.

I push a straw through the plastic film on top of the blood cup and hand it to him slowly. His vision must be heightened, and his hearing should be amplified as well. I'll have to be careful not to frighten him.

"I'm going to go call Bunce. Is it okay if I leave you here for a few minutes?" I ask quietly. I don't want to overload his senses. One of the few memories that I have from when I was younger is just the feeling of being completely overwhelmed.

Simon I shake my head at Baz when he asks if it's alright if he leaves. I don't want to be here alone. Everything feels so different. My balance is off because I don't have my wings and tail, and I'm cold. When these stupid fangs go away I'll have to tell Baz that I'm sorry for leaving the window open on all those nights at Watford. No wonder he was always so insistent that it was closed, I'm freezing.

And I'm thirsty. These dumb fangs are filling my mouth and making it even harder to speak. My words are being caught physically too instead of just mentally.

I take the cup of blood as Baz pulls out his phone to call Penny. We moved into separate flats recently as Micha moved to London. She moved in with him and I moved in with Baz.

The blood is weird. It has a metallic sort of taste and it feels weird to be drinking blood through a straw, but it makes the fangs slide back into my gums.

I can hear Baz talking quietly with Penny as I drink the blood. Penny was hesitant about Baz at first, but she has warmed up to him. Baz helped me a lot in those first days after I lost my magic. He helped me understand that my magic wasn't what made me me. It was only a part of me.

"Bunce," Baz says simply on the phone.

I'm surprised when I am able to hear Penny's response, a single word. "Hello." Baz is always talking about how he can hear me even when I'm in a different room.

"We need you to come over immediately." Baz is looking at me. I used to hate when he got that look in his eyes, the one that fills his eyes with concern. But now I know that it means that he cares about me. I used to feel like I was useless when he looked at me like that. It wasn't his fault, it was a product of my own mind. Now I just feel loved.

I smile at him to show that the fangs are gone. He smiled weakly back at me, filling in Penny on what happened.

"I'll be right over. Let me just check in with my dad." Penny always wants to do research.

I suppose that I can wait a few minutes for her to come. I don't feel as uncomfortable now that my fangs are gone and I've finished the blood. I just feel cold.

"Baz," He whips his head around to look at me. It's interesting to be able to see my wings without looking in a mirror. Baz looks gorgeous with them, like an avenging angel. "I'm sorry for arguing with you about the window being open."

Baz I feel my face break out into a smile when he apologizes. The idiot's finally realized that I was actually cold for all those years and not just opposing him. "I'll get you a blanket." Walking with the wings is cumbersome, but if Simon can do it, I can.

As I'm coming back with a blanket, Bunce arrives. She walks right into the flat, letting herself in with her key. A map is cradled gently in her arms.

"Oh, wow." She breaths out, taking in Simon before turning to me. "This really is a powerful spell."

"Really? This could be a spell?" Simon asks. He's gotten better at not flinching when magic is talked about. He used to hate any mention of magic at all. "Who could've cast it?"

"That's what we are trying to figure out." I bring the blanket over to him and drape it around his shoulders. "I didn't cast it, so the only reasonable solution for who cast it could be..." I trail off, letting Bunce finish my sentence.

"You, Simon. It could be you." Bunce finishes.

Simon looks stunned. He never was good at hiding what he felt. "What... how... how is that possible?"

Bunce lays the map out on the table carefully, revealing London and its surrounding areas. Large circles are filled in on various spots on the map. "This is a map of where all the holes, dead spots, places without magic, that used to exist."

"Used to exist?" Simon's eyes are blown up wide.

Bunce nods. "Can you see where they are filled in? That's because the dead spots no longer exist. The magic has returned to these places, and we think that it could have returned to you."

"We?" Simon manages to tear his gaze away from Bunce to stare at me.

"I've been talking with Professor Bunce. I think that your magic could have returned to you, and that's what prompted the switch." I place a hand on his shoulder to comfort him. Simon looks like his whole world just blew up. He's slumped against the back of the chair and his eyes are half closed.

"Try casting a spell." Bunce encourages. "I recommend Flick of the Switch." She said the words without magic purpose behind them, so that she wasn't casting a spell.

"What's that from?" Simon asks, astonishment turning into curiosity.

"It's from a popular song. Trixie used to use it all the time when she wanted to switch the properties of two things, so it should work for you." Bunce tells Snow, smiling at the memory of Trixie.

"Flick of the Switch." Simon says forcefully. There is magic behind the words, and my body begins to tingle.

I can feel Simon's magic encasing my body. It feels different than how it did at Watford, with no smoke smell coming off of him. When I make eye contact with him, he's giddy.

Simon I'm magic. I'm a mage again. I can do magic. I cast the spell and it works, it actually works!

My magic feels controllable now, not like how it felt when I was the Chosen One. I feel like how I did when I was sharing my magic with Baz, except I'm doing this by myself.

I connect my eyes with Baz. When I open my mouth to speak, my vision goes black for a few moments.

When my vision comes back, I see Baz standing close to me. He no longer has wings.

I smile at him and reach back to feel if I have my wings back. They are there, like they always are.

"Baz, I can do magic." I say to him, my smile huge.

"I know, Simon, you can." Baz pulls my face to his, and gives me my first kiss with controllable magic.

[mf-despair-queen]

Wet Dreams - Mitch Rapp

Author: @mf-despair-queen

Pairing: Mitch Rapp/Reader

Word Count: 9,680

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Unprotected Sex, Oral (female receiving), Bondage, Daddy Kink, Spanking, Choking, Doggy, Wet Dreams (literally), Dirty Talk, Cowgirl, Rough Sex, Side Sex

Song: Dance For You by Beyonce

Notes: :) Thanks to @savage-stilinski​ and @malia--stilinski​ for suffering with me while I wrote. Partially the result of my talks with Julia and this ask from nonnie:  “Could you do a mitch imagine, where you’re moaning his name in your sleep, so he starts eating you out while you’re asleep, and when you cum you wake up and you hve rough sex.” I promise, it’s consensual.

“You’re home!”

Your body flew across the room into the entrance of your small home, arms latching around the dark-haired man’s neck, his feet stumbling under him with the new weight. His bag dropped from his hand, both muscled arms wrapped securely around your waist. Your head snuggled into his neck, uncaring for the fact that the door remained wide open behind him, rain pouring against the street in the late hour, while you only wore a thin, nearly see-through silk nightgown that ended just below your ass.

“You’re home,” you cooed again, hearing the man chuckle lowly.

“I’m home, baby,” he hummed thoughtfully, inching further into the house, kicking the door shut with a simple kick of the foot. His lips brushed your forehead, placing a firm kiss to it after a moment. “But, why are you awake? It’s late, baby.”

“It’s never too late when you are coming home finally, Mitch,” you whispered into his neck, goosebumps running along his arms. He smiled faintly at your words, a rare occurrence people saw aside from you. You were his pride and joy after all and only you could make him feel this way. His arms around you tightened, swaying you from side to side.

“It’s midnight, though, baby,” he told you, your head upturning to look at him. “You should be asleep. It’s not healthy for you to stay up this late.”

“But I needed to see you,” you told him, feeling your feet hit the floor. Your arms loosened from his neck, hands gently cupping his cheeks instead. His stubble had grown out in the weeks he was gone, the hairs lining his jawline prickling at your fingertips. Your thumbs traced his hidden moles, knowing the exact location of each one from years of admiring them. They brushed over his plump lips, his tongue darting out to wet them immediately after. “I wanted to see you. It’s been too long.”

“How long?” he questioned, knowing how you would answer.

“Three weeks, five days, seventeen hours, four minutes, and roughly eighteen seconds,” you told him. Mitch quirked an amused smile, letting out a small but deep laugh. “What? You asked!”

“I just love your exactness on this matter,” he hummed, taking your face in his hands, mirroring your actions. “You literally countdown the days until I come home from work.”

“Right. ‘Work’,” you giggled. “How did the business deal go down?”

Mitch shook his head, picking up on the sarcasm. You were well aware of his true occupation, but you didn’t care. It didn’t matter that he would leave home for weeks, sometimes months, on end, risking his life to those that threatened others. You were proud of him and supported him, wishing him the best everytime he walked out the door, potentially never to be seen again. It was one of the things that made Mitch Rapp fall deeply in love with you, two years after his fiance was killed.

That was three years ago.

His lips brushed yours in a soft kiss, his smile never leaving his lips. “Just fine,” he mumbled against them, your small moan so faint, it was almost gone unnoticed. “They won’t be a threat to the business ever again. We bought them out.”

You giggled. That was his code that the target was terminated and his mission was a success. “I’m glad. Hurley must have been proud of you.”

Mitch scoff, shaking his head. “Hurley? Proud? Have you met the man?” Mitch asked. “He was up my ass before we even got there.”

“He just likes to keep you in line, Mitch,” you said. “You weren’t the most obedient back in the day from what I’ve heard.”

“That was years ago,” he grumbled, shaking his head. “My life is in line now.”

“I know.” You took his hands in your, his finger playing with the diamond ring on your left hand. Your own fingers traced over the gold band on his hand, smiling up at him. “Now, we should celebrate a successful buyout. To welcome you home from a long trip.”

“Is that so?” he hummed, preparing to place his lips on yours. “What did you have in mind?”

“Oh, you know,” you muttered at him, tongue running across his lips. “You throwing me on the bed, eating me out before you take me in every position known to man. You pounding my pussy into oblivion until I can’t stop screaming your name. Anything and everything to make up for the honeymoon you missed.”

He bit his lip, forehead wrinkling in distaste. “You know I wouldn’t have missed it if I had a choice. I would have taken you away to wherever you wanted if I could have,” he told you. “At least we got a day of sex before I had to leave.”

“It’s not the same,” you told him. “I wanted a week of fucking, not just a day. For almost a month, I haven't been able to probably make love to my husband. I want to fix that.”

Shortly before his newest mission, you had made the split decision to tie the knot. It had been something you had been discussing on and off for a year, but when Mitch found out he was to spend nearly a month overseas, he wanted to make it officially. Two days before he was to leave, you gathered the people closest to you - namely your sister, since she was your only remaining family, and the people Mitch worked with in the CIA. Even though he speaks ill of his superiors, they were the family he hadn’t had in decades. Irene was like an older sister, if not a motherly figure that supported his every move. And Stan Hurley, despite his gruff exterior and ruthless worth ethic towards the young man, was a mentor and father-figure to Mitch. He encouraged Mitch’s sudden action, though warned him that things could go horribly wrong at any second.

Mitch didn’t care. He swore to protect you as he always did.

The day before his mission was your makeshift honeymoon, the two of you sealing the doors and windows, phones off to avoid disturbances, while you spent the entire day naked under the sheets and in every room of your small house. You were going to make every second count with him, screaming his name until you had no voice left. Mitch went into work the next day with scratches and bruises covering his body, but it was his fuel to return home as soon as possible to properly spend time with you.

“I think we can definitely fix that,” he breathed, chest heaving with heavy pants. His jeans strained around his waist, fingers itching to run across your skin, electricity flowing between your bodies. His lips pressed to your sharply, enveloping yours completely before pulling away with a slick smack, leaving you whining for more. His kisses were nothing but taunting, the feeling lingering whenever he pushed against you.

You were pulling at his shirt before he could protest, pulling it over his head swiftly. The fabric landed on a nearby lamp when you tossed it away, ignoring the lack of light filling the room. Your fingers dusted over his pecs, playing with the hairs on his chest. Your bodies rolled against each other, teasing kisses swapped between you both. His muscles bulged and flexed from your touch, tightening with his desire.

He went to grab the end of your nightgown, lips pressing to yours in a soft kiss, only to be broken by your yawn. Your head turned away from his to avoid yawning in his face. Mitch chuckled softly, his whiskey eyes softening at the tired look on your face. One hand left his chest to cover your mouth, a small squeak escaping your throat mid-yawn. Instead of pulling your nightgown over your head, he pushed it up on your waist, resting his hands against your bare hips.

“Maybe we should save the celebration for tomorrow,” he proposed. Your shook your head at him fiercely.

“No, I’m fine, Mitch. I want to-” you yawned mid-sentence. “I want to do this.”

“No,” he whispered, eying your face closely. His fingers outlined the dark bags under your eyes. “You haven’t been sleeping much, have you? You look exhausted.”

“It’s hard to sleep without you here,” you told him.

“Exactly. That’s why,” he started, throwing you over his shoulder, hand resting on your ass while the other locked the door, grabbing his bag from the ground, “we are going to bed. Right now. It’s after midnight and I, for one, am rather tired. Do you know how long of a flight it is from London to Virginia?”

“Approximately eight hours and three minutes, assuming good weather, favorable wind, a straight, non-stop flight-”

Mitch silenced you with a soft kiss, your boyd melting on his shoulder. “I love you and your knack for useless information like this,” he hummed. “Why aren’t you working with the CIA again?”

“Because you won’t let me, even if I’m just your control admin and work remotely from home,” you pointed out, poking his six pack abs. “You know, I could hack circles around anyone you’re trying to kill, babe.”

“I know. You hacked me,” he laughed, dropping you on the bed. “That’s how we met, baby. You know this.”

“I know,” you giggled sleepily, hugging a pillow to your chest, the tops of your breasts peeking out of your nightgown. “Best decision of my life.”

“And it almost cost you your life,” he reminded you, unbuttoning his jeans, kicking the denim off his legs into the hamper in the corner of the room. You watched him through half-lidded eyes, admiring his toned body from the comfort of your bed. His back faced you, muscles tight as he lifted his arms and stretched, the tent in his Calvin Kleins showing the package he kept selfishly hidden from your view. His hand ran through his hair, eyes darting to look at you. “I snuck into your apartment and held a knife to your throat.”

“I just wanted the WiFi password. Why did you have to make it so complicated?” you grumbled, half asleep.

Mitch rolled his eyes, fixing you under the blanket before settling into his normal spot behind you. His arm wrapped around your waist, tugging you back against his chest. His nose nuzzled into your knotted locks, his groin grinding against your ass. You let out a weak moan, your voice laced with drowsiness. “I know,” he whispered into your hair. “But, at least you got your WiFi, baby.”

“I think I got more than that,” you whispered back, letting out a groan. “Now, stop what you’re doing. I can’t fuck right now.”

“You were so eager to five minutes ago.”

“That was five minutes ago. You missed your chance.” You shoved your ass back against him regardless, hearing Mitch let out a grunting moan. His hips rolled harder against your backside, his hand moving up to your breast to grip it through your sleepwear. His rolled the mound in his palm, massaging the hard nipple through the silk. You moaned his name lowly in reply. “Mitch, please. Not right now. Sleep.”

“Alright,” he murmured, pushing himself up on one elbow, kissing your cheek. Pushing a strand of hair behind your ear, he admired your dozing face, holding you close. “It’s good to be home.”

“I agree,” you slurred, taking his hand. “Welcome home, Mitch.”

The assassin watched you fall asleep completely before settling into the bed completely. Sleep washed over him in a matter of minutes, his body fully relaxing into his first peaceful sleep in weeks.

He walked into the bedroom, messing with the buttons on the fancy, button up shirt he wore. His tie dangled from his other hand, not forgotten at all. His hair curled at the ends but looked just right in the fading rays of light that soaked through the open balcony window. The ocean lapped over the beach, the salty ocean air wafting into the room. But Mitch wasn’t focused on the sunset over the ocean or the soft breeze that billowed around him. His eyes were focused on you.

You were laying on the California King that rested in the middle of the room, the transparent blue lingerie set you wore not hiding your immediate arousal. The lace, floral pattern didn’t hide your erect nipples. Your legs were spread and propped up for him to have the perfect shot of your soaked core. Your fingers traced over the wet patch that had formed, pushing aside the material to dip a finger into yourself. Your free hand palmed your own breast, the taut nipple held between your fingers.

“What are you waiting for?” You asked him seductively, mewling his name. His ears twitched at the sound, the assassin shuffling between the balls of his feet. “Aren’t you going to fuck me?”

“You bet,” he breathed, crawling over your body. The shirt dangled open in front of you, his fingers replacing yours inside your core. You moved to his push his shirt off his shoulders, your lips meeting in a passionate connection. Tongues battled for dominance between your cheeks, his easily winning in the fight for pleasure. His fingers thrust into you quickly, the squishing sound of his fingers entering your soaked core flitting around the room. Your hands moved to tangle in his hair, tugging at his roots to keep him flush against you.

He pulled from your lips, physically ripping the front of the bra you wore, letting your breasts fall free. You moaned loudly, his mouth meeting your chest in a flurry of harsh sucks and kisses. His mouth ravished your firm peak, tugging at it with his teeth and lips until it was swollen and red. His fingers never slowed inside you, spreading your pussy open when he pulled out, coming together when he pushed back in. Your moaned never ceased, back arching into him.

“Oh God, Mitch. Please. Fuck me!”

He grinned against your chest, pulling from it with a sickening loud pop. He grabbed the tie that was resting on his side, tying your hands together together around the metal headboard. You didn’t protest nor did you struggle. You allowed him to do what he wanted. Lustful eyes followed him as he crawled backwards, fingers leaving your pussy empty. His fingers tugging tauntingly slow at the lingerie bottoms, running his tongue through your folds when he got a chance. When they were fully off and discarded across the room, the assassin leant back on his knees, unbuttoning the slacks he had on.

“That’s right, Mitch. Take them off, baby,” you muttered aloud, eying him closely. Mitch smirked, rolling off the bed to drop the slacks to his feet, boxer briefs included. His cock stood at attention, long, hard and ready for action. The precum oozed from the bright red tip. His length twitched openly and looked as if it were pulsating with desire. He stroked it slowly,  glancing between his erection and your face, studying your reaction.

“Is this what you want, princess?” he huskily stated, crawling back onto the bed. He rolled his hips against yours, cock sliding easily through your folds and prodding at your core. You mewled once, nodding your head quickly. Mitch wasn’t having that simple reaction though. “Words, baby. What do you want.”

“Fuck me, daddy. I’m all yours,” you told him. You pushed him off of you with your foot, flipping yourself onto your stomach. Your arms crossed over each other and your ass stuck up in the air, swinging from side to side with anticipation. “I need you. Fuck me, daddy, until I’m squirting and cumming all night long.”

He didn’t reply.

His cock slid into you from behind, eagerly pistoning himself into you. Your head flew backwards, hair flying all over the place with little remorse. His hips clapped against your ass, his hand colliding with it noisily. Your moans and screams filled the room, shoving yourself back against him to meet his powerful, relentless thrusts. Your hands gripped at his tie, not bothering to shield the noises you were making.

“That’s right, daddy! Fuck me! Fuck me hard! And fast!” You screamed at him, Mitch speeding up. The tip of his cock tapped at your cervix and g-spot, his hand connecting with your ass with a booming slap. He tugged at your hair slightly, thrusting himself into you ravenously. “Fuck! Yes! Just like that!”

“You like that, princess?” he rasped out, slapping your ass again. “You like when I spank you?”

“Fuck yes!” You screamed at him. “Spank me, daddy. I’ve been a bad girl. Punish me. Fuck me until I cum.”

Your walls clung around him, Mitch heaving for air. Your words made his cock twitch. He was straining to keep from cumming too early from the warmth and moisture you were emitting. But he complied with your wished, spanking you again and again until your ass was red with multiple handprints, jiggling in different directions when he slapped it. He pounded you fiercely, listening to your vulgar pleas to please you.

“More, daddy. More, more, more. Please. Pound my cunt like you always do. It’s all yours. Pound my cunt until it’s cumming all around you.”

“Shit,” he mumbled to himself, squeezing his eyes shut to concentrate. His hand released your hair, circling your body to rub circles at your clit instead. Your body began shaking violently, the hugging around his length growing harder. You stammered out multiple curses, alternating between ‘fuck’ and ‘Mitch’ more than once. You grew wetter around him, multiple orgasms simultaneously washing over your system.

“Mitch!” You screamed. “Yes! Daddy! I love you! Fuck me, daddy! Cum inside me. Fill me with all of your cum. Warm me with your seed! I want to feel your sperm spill into me, leaking out of my pussy after you pull out because there’s so much of you inside me. I will run my fingers through my filled cunt, feeling every drop you let out inside me.”

“Fuck,” he growled, leaning forward in the middle of his thrusts. “I’m cumming, baby. I-I can’t-”

“Let it go, Mitch,” you told him seductively. “Cum inside me. It’s our honeymoon. You can cum in me all you want. I want to feel you.” You glanced back at him, eyes dark and lustful. “Cum in me, Mitch Rapp. I need you to cum.”

The words echoed with his release, a loud grunt vibrating his throat. His seed spilled from his tip like a shotgun, ejecting itself deep into your womb. His cock sputtered, filling every bit of your body with his warm seed. You moaned at the feeling he gave you, Mitch not hearing anything you uttered. His ears were ringing with the intense orgasm, the powerful hug of your pussy around his thick cock keeping him trapped in a web of arousal, the alluring feeling making his vision spot.

Cum…

Cum…

CUM…

Mitch stirred from his sleep, blurry eyes taking a moment to focus on the time on the side table. 3:12 AM. He groaned, shifting in his position, rolling onto his back. He ran a hand through his hair, ruffling the already messy locks. You were sound asleep at his side, curled up in a small ball, hugging his normal pillow. “The fuck did I just dream about?” he grumbled lowly, not wanting to wake you up. He shuffled slightly in his spot, one hand moving to palm his groin.

His cock was hard, but it was wet.

His face contorted in disgust, kicking the blanket off. “I fucking came in my sleep,” he breathed, stumbling to a nearby drawer. “I had a wet dream about my wife. Specifically our honeymoon we never had.” He glanced at your sleeping form before dipping into the bathroom. He made sure to shut the door before turning on the light. It took a second for his eyes to adjust to the brightness, multiple blinks to keep from going blind.

He grabbed a towelette from under the sink, dropping the Calvin Kleins he had worn to bed. He grimaced at the cum that was pasted along his length and on the inside of his underwear, wetting the towel to wash himself. He grumbled lowly, his cock sensitive to the touch, the white liquid caked to his skin.

“How the hell did this happen?” he asked himself, scratching his stubbled chin. Once he was clean, he tossed the wet cloth aside, staring at himself through the mirror. “That has never happened before. Holy shit. That dream was so nice though. It felt so real.” He turned to look at the ruined underwear, biting his lip. “And I came harder than ever I think. Dammit.”

He slid on the new boxer briefs, adjusting the bad as he stared at his reflection longer, arching forward against the sink. Splashing some water over his face, he sighed, letting the drops fall into the sink. He straight straight into the porcelain, licking his lips. “God, what do I even do now? Can I go back to sleep after that? Do I tell her what happened?”

He heard rustling in the bedroom, his sigh prolonged. He figured you had awoken without him there and would come knocking at the door any second. He wiped the remaining bits of water from his face, using a spare towel from the towel rack to dry it completely before cracking the door open, peering into the room with a glint in his eye. His brow scrunched together when he spotted you still in the bed, but you were stirring restless amongst the sheets. The assassin noted how you had rolled onto your back, his pillow left to fall to the floor forgotten, with the blankets low on your hips and tangled around your feet. One arm draped over your stomach, just below your breasts, while the other was strung above your head on the pillow and through your messy hair. You were still asleep. Mitch was thankful.

He cringed when the door creaked open, the man clicking the light off before it could wake you. He shuffled forward slowly, is eyes trying to readjust to the darkness after having focused on the bathroom light around him. He cursed to himself when he kicked his bag and other objects that were littering the bedroom carpet, Mitch biting the inside of his cheek to keep from making an overwhelming amount of noise. The room was silent and the slightest noise could stir you from your well deserved rest.

His hand met the end of the mattress, using the edge to inch around to his side, one knee on the bed to climb in. Before he could climb back into the bed, however, he froze, ears twitching. A small noise filled the room, Mitch’s eyes roaming the darkness for the source. The same noise came a second later, the assassin’s senses kicking into gear. The hand he had on the mattress moved for his bedside table, tugging open the drawer for his spare gun. His pupils dilated, the room becoming more visible to him.

The door was shut, the window was closed. The closet sat wide open the way it always did, clothes dangling from hangers. The bathroom he was just was vacant with the door ajar, the soft drips from the faucet barely audible to his trained ear. There was no sign of movement anywhere in the room, the lack of outside presence disturbing him.

Did I imagine the sound? He asked himself, taking the gun with him as he searched the room. He pushed aside the clothes in the closet to make sure nowhere was there. He checked the window latches. He poked his head out the bedroom door to see if there was movement around the rest of the house. He even checked the bathroom, just to be safe.

“The fuck?” he mumbled, closing the door with a silent click, running his long digits through his hair. He dropped the gun back into his drawer, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Am I just imagining things now? Maybe this mission got the better of me for once and I’m just super on edge now.”

The quiet noise sounded behind him once more, Mitch whipping around. He glanced around, no sign of anything except for your body. He looked down at you, licking his lips. When you didn’t stir, he grunted, shaking his head. He laid back in the bed, massaging from his chiseled jawline to his temples lightly, trying to relax. He was sure he was imagining it.

“Mitch~.”

He shot up, turning to you, Your mouth parted slightly, Mitch recognizing the way your legs were rubbing together slightly under the blanket. Yet, your eyes remained glued, an air of drowsiness and sleep emanating from you. He watched you closely, noticing your body squirm slightly, fingers twitching slightly from whatever dream you were having.

“Baby?” he asked quietly, unsure if he would wake you. “You awake?”

“Mmm, Mitch,” you let out, slightly louder than before. He licked his lips slowly, listening closely. “More, please.”

“More?” he asked.

“Please,” you quietly pleaded in your sleep, head turning to face the opposite fall, your legs squeezing together. “More.”

His heart hammered against his chest, his body warming up. The more your squirmed in your sleep, turning from side to side with multiple low moans and pleas, the lower the blanket fell. You were kicking it off without knowing it. Mitch watched this happen, his eyes scanning your form from head to toe. Your breasts threatened to spill from the nightgown, the lack of bra underneath obvious. Your nipples were erect from the late-night chill in the room. The man you loved got a full view of your side breast, some angles from your squirming giving him views of cleavage and bare skin. The bottom of your nightgown rode up, the pale pink lace cheeksters you wore hugging your curves perfectly. Mitch wanted to reach over to play with the small bow in the middle of the band, a lace flower design stringing from either side of it. He smiled at them; they were his favorite and you knew it. But his smile dropped slightly when he felt his cock twitch, growing hard once more.

He recalled the dream he had, flashes of what happened behind his eyelids when he closed his whiskey orbs. Your low moans made it hard to relax, his body tensing with the hardening erection. His legs parted slightly, palm running over the clothed tent, his shaft growing by the second.

“Mitch,” you whined, the hand that was on your stomach sliding down your body until it was tucked between your legs. His breath hitched, the assassin suddenly finding it hard to breath. He watched your fingers skim your panties before falling limp, your moans continuing. “Please. I need you.”

Mitch struggled with what to do. His mouth watered, body burning with want. He contemplated fulfilling your pleas. It wouldn’t be the first time he pleased you while you slept, his face buried between your legs eating you out until you woke up, begging him to fuck you the rest of the night. Hell, you had done it to him multiple times. He would wake up with your mouth around his cock, bobbing quickly until he was cumming down your throat. He even woke up once when you slid down onto him, his cock buried deep in your pussy while you rode him. You both loved it when the other awoke you to such a pleasure, the eroticism filling the air with an equal amount of love.

He quickly shook his head, scolding himself. “She needs to sleep. I shouldn’t wake her for my selfish wants,” he told himself. He glanced at you, your back arching uncomfortably. He pulled the blankets further up against your body, sliding off the bed long enough to grab his pillow from the floor.

Your hand shot out in your sleep, grabbing his wrist and making his stop what he was doing. “Mitch,” you whined. “I’m so wet for you. Please.” Your hand dropped his wrist, turning in the bed. “I missed you so much. Please, make me cum like you always do.”

Mitch took a deep breath...

“Please, Mitch. I need you.”

...and left the pillow on the floor.

Lifting the end of the blankets, he crawled under them, his body completely hidden from view. He caught a whiff of your arousal, the man letting out a deep, disgruntled groan. He had missed the smell and even more, he missed the taste of you. You were writhing against the mattress, Mitch struggling to pull our panties off quickly, placing his mouth to your folds.

You let out a loud, rippling moan, pleasing Mitch’s senses. He continued to kiss at your folds softly, swiping his tongue through them occasionally. You whimpered loudly, moaning for more. The noises made him cocky, trailing kisses up and down your thighs teasingly, uncaring that he was scratching at your skin with his beard. The scratches just made you quiver more, releasing more juices for him.

“Whatever you are dreaming about made you really wet, baby,” he hummed from under the blanket, not getting a response. The man snickered to himself, flicking your clit with the tip of his tongue. You moaned again for him, legs trying to rub the ache away. “You want me to please you, baby? You missed me that much that you’re dreaming about what I can do to you?”

“Mitch,” you whimpered, hand landing over his head through the blanket. “I need you so bad. More, please.” Your back arched, Mitch sucking at your clit as you did. “Fuck, more! I need you! It’s been too long.”

“You want more?” he teased, knowing he wouldn’t get a response. “I’ll give you more.”

His tongue delved deep inside your pussy, lapping at the uices you secreted without knowing, your unknown dream stimulating your nerves. You mewled his name under your breath, tossing and turning from side to side. Mitch’s veiny hands kept a hold on your hips, keeping you from moving too much so his mouth could focus on its mission.

His tongue circled inside you, tracing your sensitive walls, savoring the taste you left on his tongue. The tip barely brushed you g-spot, but when it did, you squeaked his name with a breathy noise, hands grasping at the pillows and blankets. Beads of sweat ran down your forehead, panting for air like a dog in heat. He could feel the heat radiating from every pore of your body, his kisses leaving a smoldering trail of fire across your skin and innards. His scruff scraped against your thighs whenever he moved, red marks left in its wake.

He backed away slightly, allowing one finger to slide inside you, testing the waters before adding a second finger. The tips and knuckles curled a bit, his week-long untrimmed nails scraping at your delicate walls pleasurably. He stilled knuckle deep, playing with your sweet spot with a simple curl of the two fingers, as if to tell you to come here. His tongue danced around the entrance to your pussy, slipping in with his fingers only to feel your walls around him tighten, hugging him for dear life.

“More,” you pleaded with a strained voice. “Please, more.”

Mitch smiled against you, a smile that was reserved only for you. His fingers began thrusting slowly, speeding up gradually over time. His mouth moved strictly to your clit, toying with the swollen nub relentlessly, flicking at it without remorse. His lips would wrap around it, tugging at it with either his lips or his teeth until it was erect, enlarged by your arousal. He greedily continued to suck at the engorged nub, selfishly and hungrily ravishing it.

He felt you clenching around his fingers the faster he went. Your breathing had picked up, chest heaving rapidly. You mewled his name, Mitch knowing you were growing close even in your unconscious state. He smiled to himself, releasing your hips completely. His hand slid into his boxer briefs, his cock pulsing from the skim of his fingers, wishing, too, to be pleased. He carefully took himself in his hand, stroking his cock, keeping pace with this thrusts into your core. He groaned against your clit from his own stimulation, his mind buzzing with lust and affection.

“Fuck,” he mumbled against your clit, smearing the precum over the tip. “I missed you, baby. So much,” he groaned, replacing his fingers with his mouth, savagely attacking your pussy with licks. You were tossing more on his bed, legs hugging his head to your core. Your moans grew in volume, body shaking against the sheets. “Come on,” he whispered into you. “Cum for me. Let me taste your sweet nectar, baby.”

You let out a drawn out moan, slumping into the bed. Mitch groaned against your core, lapping every drop of your juices that washed out during your orgasm. It splashed against in tongue in waves, your husband drinking every ounce you gave him shamelessly. He savored the taste, every memory you shared together racing through his mind from the single sip.

He was glad to be home finally.

He stayed under the blankets as you body relaxed, limbs going limp against the sheets. He waited for a sign - any indication of what was beyond the fleece that shielded him. He finally felt your fingers curl over the top of his head, tapping twice. The assassin let out a small chuckle, crawling up your body until his head poked free, resting on your stomach.

“Hi,” you breathed. You stared down at him with a lazy smile, eyes cloudy with sleep and desire. Your hand ran through his hair, pushing it back. The assassin let out a content sigh, both arms wrapping around you, relaxing against your body. “That’s some way to wake up.”

“Sorry,” he chuckled into your stomach. “I was awake and you kept moaning for more. I got a little…”

“Horny?” you hummed, twirling his hair around your fingers. “Eager? Needy? Desperate?”

“Aroused,” he clarified. He pushed up your nightgown, his stubble scratching at your skin when he kissed your stomach. “God, I love hearing you moan. I couldn’t help myself. I just wanted a little taste.”

“A little, huh?”

“Just a little,” he repeated. He glanced up at you, eyes locking. “What were you dreaming about?”

“You,” you told him, Mitch deadpanning. “What? I was!”

“Specifically?”

“The things you do to me,” you whispered, almost shyly. “The things you did to me before you left. And the things I still want you to do to me.” You licked your lips slowly, peering at the man. “The things I want you to do as if we were on our honeymoon finally.”

Mitch looked away, biting his lip. “A dream just like mine,” he mumbled.

“What?” Mitch blinked, looking back at you. “What do you mean like yours?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Is that why you were awake?” You asked him. “Did little Mitchy have a wet dream about me?”

“Yes,” he said without hesitation, your face going blank in shock. “I dreamt about us going on a honeymoon to some exotic beachfront, just the two of us. I tied you up and fucked you silly.”

“Is that so?” you asked.

“You called me daddy,” he pointed out, your face flushing.

“I didn’t know you liked that,” you hummed thoughtfully. “Did you like it?”

“I won’t lie, baby. It was hot as balls,” he chuckled. “To see and hear you give in the way you did. It was… beyond amazing. It was incredible. Stunning. Wonderful. And so god damn sexy. I have never seen you that submissive and I loved it. You wanted me more than ever.”

“What happened because of this dream?” You asked, shifting in the bed until you were sitting upright. Mitch’s head between your legs once more.

Mitch hesitated, almost ashamed to come clean. “You made me cum.” He pursed his lips, rolling on his back to stare at the ceiling. “Literally, not just in the dream. I woke up with a hard on right after I orgasmed in my sleep. And fuck, it was a great orgasm.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah. One of the best I’ve ever had. They’re always great with you but this one was… otherworldly. I was seeing stars.” He pushed his boxer briefs down his legs, exposing his erection to you, the fabric kicked from his ankles onto the floor. He carefully grasped himself in his hand, stroking his length slowly. “I’m still horny from it all.”

“And this isn’t just because we haven’t seen each other for weeks? Because we haven’t touched each other. Or had sex. Even masturbated.”

His forehead wrinkled, leaning back to look at you upside down. “You didn’t masturbate while i was gone?”

“It wasn’t the same without you here,” you replied. “Porn doesn’t cut it. Vibrators don’t cut it. I just wanted you.”

“Damn. Should I feel guilty that I masturbated while I was on my mission?” he said, rolling onto his stomach. “Like, every night that I was alone, not chasing some guy with a gun. Hand around my cock, thinking about you riding me until I was cumming all over my bare chest.”

“Mmm, Mitch,” you whimpered. The ache was forming once more between your legs. He didn’t stop.

“Sometimes I thought about fucking you from behind in the kitchen, pounding your sweet little pussy while you make us dinner.”

“Mitch, please,” you whimpered louder. Mitch sat up slowly, nestling between your legs, tugging at the straps of your nightgown.

“Or, there are the times we do it in the shower. Your back against the wall while I thrust into you, then you drop to your knees and suck me off. Your hands grab my ass while you deepthroat me. God, you have the best mouth.”

“Mitch, this isn’t nice,” you whined. His lips met your neck, sucking dark marks to it before trailing them down to your shoulder, pulling the straps down your arms completely. The front of your nightgown was resting just below your breasts, the round, perky mounds free to the chilly air.

“Why?” he asked, pushing you back slightly, kissing along your collarbone. You mewled quietly, struggling to push your legs together, the muscled man keeping you from doing just that. His form stood in the way, contributing to the ache that was growing in your bones. His strong hands roamed your body. His hips rolled against yours whenever he inched closer to kiss you, his lips finding home at every nook and cranny of your torso.

Your hands threaded through his hair, his face buried between your breasts. He purposefully was avoiding your nipples, teasing you with light touches that felt like a gentle breeze passing over you. You arched into him, mewling quietly. “Because.”

“Because why?”

He kissed around each breast in a figure eight, listening to you whine for more. Your hands tugged restlessly at his hair, pleading under your breath. “Because I need you,” you uttered through scattered breaths. “You’re making me so damn hot and bothered.”

“Why?” he asked playfully. “Do I turn you on by talking about the things I think about when i masturbate? Shouldn’t you be flattered that I think about you as much as I do when I’m away? You’re always on my mind when I’m a mission because the faster I get it done, the faster I get back home to you to fulfill those fantasies I picture.”

“Mitch.”

He kissed your chest, taking your nipple between his lips, toying with it for a moment before releasing it with a loud pop. “You like hearing me talk about when I hold my cock in my hand, jerking it until i can’t any more. But all I wish is that it’s your hand or your mouth pleasing me. You’re the master at making me cum, baby. You feel way better than my hand.”

“Mitch,” you said louder, voice cracking.

“Sometimes, I wish you would just walk into the room while I’m masturbating because you were watching me and you wanted a piece of the action. You love to watch me stroke my long, hard cock. Then, you blow me until I cum down your throat. You wrap your tits around me until I cum on them and your face. Then I fuck you until we can’t can’t fuck anymore,” he continued to say, plucking your nipples with his teeth and lips until they were stiff mountains of eroticism.

“Mitch!” You finally screamed, pushing him back. You grimaced slightly when his teeth nearly clamped down on your nipple in surprise, scrapping uncomfortably at the swollen peak. His smile flipped into a deep frown, his eyes sparking.

“What?” came his soft voice, almost fragile. “Did I hurt you?”

“No,” you let out, Mitch’s face showing his disbelief. “You biting me was an accident! Completely my fault. I pushed you back without you expecting it. That’s not what I’m wanting to say.”

“Then what?”

“I want you to fuck me,” you blatantly spoke. Mitch took a moment to process, the man slower than normal on this matter. He was amazingly smart and talented, Orion’s star member, but the cogs weren’t turning at nearly four in the morning. He blinked once, eyes narrowing on your face, lips parting.

“I’m sorry,” he hummed, inching closer to you. His cock pressed against your core, sliding through your folds as he spoke slowly. His voice was deep and husky, a certain gruffness make your heart race. “I don’t think I quite heard you right. Do you mind,” he paused, licking his lips slowly with a glint in his dark eyes, “repeating that for me?”

“I. Want. You. To.” you stopped, pushing yourself up on the bed until your lips hit the shell of his ear, the man shivering. “Fuck. Me. Mitch. Rapp.”

You were pulled completely off the bed in a flash, your head spinning half from the whirl and half from the pleasure that encompassed your body. You couldn’t hold back the loud moan that built in your throat, the noise directed into his ear. Your arms wrapped securely around his waist, your body pulled taut against him, his cock buried hilt deep inside you. Your knees rested on either side of him, Mitch leaning back on his knees. His hands were laid across your back, fingers spread with light scratches of his nails against your skin.

“God, I missed this,” he groaned, his bucking upwards into you. Your head buried instantly into his neck, sucking a dark mark to claim him as your as a way to stay silent. His soft, fluffy hair flopped to the side when his hair tilted away, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. “I love you, Y/N.”

“And I love you,” you mumbled into his neck.

Mitch smiled, hands moving to your hips, moving your body against him. The awkward position made it hard for him to easily thrust into you. Instead, he opted to help you do the work instead, guiding your body up and down atop him, his cock burying itself deep into your soaked pussy. The motion started slow and steady, quickly turning into an obnoxious slap of hips against hips, legs colliding from your sitting stance.

“Mitch,” you cooed into him. He took that as encouragement for more, his hips bucking upwards into you, your squealing moans turning into sharp screams. Your arms hugged him tighter, breasts pressing against his bare pecs. Your head fell back, Mitch pressing kisses to your collarbone, never slowing his movements. The tip of his cock hit your g-spot repeatedly, the sensual rubbing of his cock against it making you shake in his hold. “Fuck, just like that.”

“You like that?” he asked breathlessly. He pushed the nightgown up so it was a bundle of fabric above your navel, his grip tightening and his fingers drawing circles against your stomach. His hips bucked upwards, pistoning as fast as he could into you. “You like when I fuck you like this?”

“God yes,” you cried out, a hard tug on his hair following. “More!”

You pulled roughly this time, Mitch losing his balance and falling forward slightly. You squealed as you fell back on the bed, his cock never leaving you. Your head hit the pillow, hazy eyes staring up at the man. He had caught himself before he collapsed on top of you, straightening his back. Your eyes met from afar, the same lustful look glistening within your irises.

His arms ducked under your legs, the backs of your knees matching the bend of his elbows, your feet dangling helplessly in the air. His fingers left bruises from their hold on your thighs. Before you could blink, his hips snapped into yours, deep pounding thrusts slapping into you. You screamed his name, back arching and eyes closing, writhing on the bed from the pleasure. The assassin kept a strong pace, his chest heaving with pants from his powerful thrusts. Your legs and breasts bounced with each thrust forward. Your bodies slapped together noisily, the room flooded with moans and echoing skin.

“Oh God,” you rasped. “I’m cumming, Mitch,” you moaned. Your back arched further off the bed, palming your own breasts to push yourself over the edge. Mitch watched you tweak your own nipples, turning into a moaning mess. “I’m cumming!”

He groaned loudly at the hugging walls around his cock, slowing his thrusts to a gentle push. Your juices washed around him for the second time that night, your body shaking from the intense orgasm Your vision spotted, feeling the waves of juices seep out of you and into his skin, Mitch’s tantalizingly slow thrust prolonging the high you were having. It was worse when his fingers skimmed your clit, pressing down on it for added effect.

He pulled out of you, turning you on your side. You sighed sadly when he curled up behind you, his arm around your waist. You weren’t satisfied. You felt empty and incomplete. Your body was craving more from your time apart. At this point, you were fully prepared to take him until you couldn’t any longer, sleep the last thing on your list of priorities.

“Mitch-” you started, turning to him. You were silenced when his lips met yours, your eyes fluttering closed at the feeling. You melted into his touch, lips like jigsaw pieces coming together. Your lips parted to allow his tongue free reign to wander between your cheeks, your husband taking full advantage of the access. His nude body inched closer to you, your mouths moving together. Whenever he pulled away for a small puff of air, the sound of your lips disconnecting - a resounding smooch - rang through our ears, your body buzzing before he leaned in for more. Your lips never stopped moving against each other, spending multiple minutes in each others grasps kissing.

Your hand carefully grasped his cock, stroking him soothingly, the man groaning against your lips. He pulled away with a soft smack, wetting his swollen lips with a swipe of the tongue. Your lips matched his - plump and red and deliciously kissable still. He kissed down your cheek, your head tilting away to give him access to your neck. The tip of his cock slid along your folds between your legs, the man thrusting between your thighs playfully.

“Mitch,” you whimpered. “Please. I want more of you.”

“What do you want?” he asked. Walking two fingers up your body, cupping your breast. His fingertips dusted over the nipples, your whines growing. “Tell me, baby. What do you want?”

“I want you to fuck me hard and fast until I can’t see straight,” you pleaded. “I want you to choke me until I’m seeing stars.” You turned to stare into his whiskey eyes, kissing him softly. “I want you to cum inside me, daddy.”

“Fuck,” he grunted, cucking into your backside. “Say it again.”

“It?”

“You know,” he grumbled. “Say it and I will fulfill your request. Say it and I will fuck you until the sun rises.” He connected your lips, tugging your lip with his teeth. “Say it and I will please you like you’ve never been pleased.”

“You know, that’s kind of hard considering you always please me,” you joked. Mitch’s expression didn’t reflect your amusement. “Fine.” Clearing your throat, you said with your heart racing in the most seductive voice possible, “Fuck me, daddy.”

“God, that’s better than my dream,” he groaned, lifting your leg, his cock sliding in easily. You let out a straggled moan in response, not recognizing when he draped your leg back over his body, leaving your legs parted and his hands free. One arm slithered under your head while the other found refuge on your chest, his hips speeding up against your ass. It wasn’t long until he was pounding into you, his hips colliding with your ass in deafening slaps.

“Fuck!” You screamed loudly, clawing at the sheets and pulling them from the edges of the mattress. Your words egged the assassin on, his thrusts sliding deep inside you. His cock pulsed, twitching from left to right, making your body flare up like the sun. The tip hit your g-spot and cervix, rattling your nerves and sending goosebumps up your spine.

Your ass pressed back against his hips, Mitch stilling to allow you to thrust. He listened to you moan his name loudly while trying to suppress his own moans. His abs tightened when he sat u slightly, watching the smooth motion of his cock emerging from your core, covered in layers of arousal before easing back in with a slick sound. Your ass jiggled when it hit his hips, Mitch wetting his lips slowly. He hardened more inside you just from the sight, earning another loud moan.

“Daddy loves when you ride his cock,” Mitch breathed into your ear, moving his hand to palm your ass instead. He pulled back slightly, his hand connecting to your skin with a smack, almost like the crack of a whip. You moaned loudly for him, Mitch repeating the action. His thrusts resumed, swapping between ravenous thrusts and vicious slaps. Your ass was red with handprints, your nerves at their peak.

“Fuck, Mitch,” you mewled, clawing at his hand. “More, daddy. Please. Fuck me.”

He grunted in satisfaction, eyes closing to focus on his movements. The hand under your head wound around your throat in a tight grip, constricting your airway but remaining loose enough to not choke you to death like you knew he could. Black spots formed in your sight, but your body was on cloud nine, floating in a different plane completely. The pleasure of his pistoning cock was amplified, the smoldering fire inside you becoming a raging wildfire that control your entire form. Your body tingled, your mind a blur so much that you didn’t recognize the rubbing on your clit from his other hand.

“F-Fuck,” you struggled to say, losing yourself to the ecstasy. “M-Mitch.”

“Shit,” he grunted lowly, his throat vibrating with the sound. His eyes closed, chasing the orgasm he wished to have - the one he knew he was about to have. He could feel the pressure building inside him. He was bound to explode at any second and he was more than ready for it. He carefully tilted your head towards him, his eyes cracking open with a glazed look. “I love you, Y/N Rapp.”

His grip loosened, allowing you to speak properly. Your lips brushed his as you spoke in a soft tone, “I love you, Mitch Rapp.”

He pressed his lips to yours in a passionate kiss, the two sealed tight together. His hips bucked wildly against you, his sloppy thrusts sputtering. His cock twitched, your walls tightened. Your fingers laced together until your bodies were exploding with fireworks simultaneously, slowing to careful thrusts. Your juices flowed around him like a waterfall, hugging him like he was your lifeline. His white, hot seed spewed from the tip, the strings coating your walls and mixing with your arousal inside you. You clung to him just as much as he clung to you, neither of you wanting to let the other go.

He slowly pulled away from the kiss, licking his lips to savor the taste before letting his eyes flutter open once more, meeting your direct stare. You gave him a gentle smile, brushing your fingers through his hair and along his stubbled jaw, connecting his hidden moles.

“I love you,” you whispered again, Mitch smiling.

“I love you,” he replied, kissing your forehead. His lips lingered, resting in the comfort of your presence. It’s good to be home, he told himself, wanting the moment to be everlasting.

You shuffled in his hold, taking his hand and kissing his fingertips. He sighed, knowing he needed to move, his cock already going limp inside you. Your bodies were coated in sweat, genitals dripping with a mixture of fluids. He slowly pried his hand from yours, leaving another kiss on your forehead before slipping from your core and sliding off the bed.

You watched him waddle towards the bathroom, grinning at his cute ass in the darkness. “You know, you have the best ass?” you called out, covering your head with the blanket when he flicked on the light. Your ears perked up at his deep chuckle. “What? It’s true. Your training shaped that ass in the best way. Have you seen it? And you have these cute little moles along your skin. Little constellations because you are out of this world.”

“That was cheesy,” he laughed. You heard the cabinets slam and the water run, knowing he was grabbing a wet cloth. “And never call my ass cute again please. It’s just…”

Mitch paused in his thought, his eyes staring at an object on the counter. His brow knit together, his shaky hand extending to pick it up. He stared at it for a moment, trying to process what he was staring at. He wasn’t sure how he had missed it earlier.

“Babe?” he called, your head peeking out of the covers.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, crawling out of bed. You rubbed at your eyes to try and adjust to the light, padding your way towards him. You stopped in the doorway when you saw what he was holding. “Oh.”

“Is this…” he started, his mouth dry. Yet, his voice held a hint of excitement, his feet moving one at a time closer to you. “Is this for real?”

“Yes,” you told him calmly, your smile large.

“We’re pregnant?” he asked, handing you the stick the words clearly reading ‘pregnant’ in bold, blue letters. “This is real?”

“It’s real, Mitch,” you whispered. “I took three boxes and they all said the same thing. I still need to schedule an appointment just to be completely sure but-” you stopped, taking his hand and resting it on your stomach. “There’s a mini assassin in the making.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was going to surprise you after we got some rest. You got home late and I wanted to tell you in person.”

He blinked. “That’s why you waited up.”

“You caught me,” you laughed. “Assuming I’m right, I would be about a month along.”

“The not-honeymoon yet still honeymoon sex,” he grinned, pulling you closer. He kissed your forehead softly, your head burying in his chest. “You know this means you aren’t leaving my sight anytime soon. I’m not risking losing you or the baby.”

“I know,” you said. “But I don’t have anything to worry about because I’m married to my best friend and the best assassin the CIA could ever ask for. And I know you would never let anything hurt us.”

“The faith you have in me,” he hummed. His hands cupped your face, lifting it to face him. “Y/N, we’re having a baby.”

“We’re having a baby,” you told him, hugging him. Mitch smiled largely, larger than ever. “We’re starting a family.”

He laughed, lifting you from the ground and spinning you in circles, listening to your adorable laughter. Neither of you cared that you were nearly nude at it was the odd hours of the night. You were ecstatic beyond belief. “We’re starting a family!” he cried, placing you on the floow, peppering your face in kisses. His lips rested against your forehead, kissing it repeatedly, mumbled over and over, “we’re having a baby.” You melted into his arms, letting yourself relax in the moment.

He finally pulled away long enough to clean your bodies, fixing your nightgown when he was done. You were lifted from the ground, Mitch carrying you back to the bed. He tucked you in before grabbing the discarded boxer briefs from the floor, adjusting the band. The sun’s rays peered through the curtains, Mitch crawling into his spot by your side.

“I told you I would fuck you until the sun came up,” he joked. You yawned at him in response, Mitch laughing. “Get some more sleep, baby. You need it and I’m not going anywhere.”

“You need to sleep too,” you mumbled sleepily. “Just don’t have any more wet dreams about me.”

He let out a sarcastic snort at your joke, nuzzling into your shoulder. You smiled, your nose digging into his hair. “No promises,” he mumbled, kissing your shoulder this time. “I can never stop thinking about you. You’re always on my mind and you just have this way with me.”

“Well, I can’t say I’m mad about these wet dreams,” you muttered, voice fading. “Because that was amazing.”

“Just like you,” he whispered, listening to your steady breathing. Mitch followed suit quickly, hugging you to his body, never to let you go.

This is a dream come true.

Errthang Tag 2.0: @catcrown21; @parislight; @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone; @savage-stilinski; @honeymoonmuke; @rumoured-whispers; @youshiverwhenyouhearmyname; @caitsymichelle13; @addicttotw; @fox-lau; @xmadwonderland; @kaelyn-lobrutto24; @lobrien; @kal-pal; @espermirror; @nowthisiswaar; @belleknows; @ashpie97; @mixedupsammy; @dylobrienlover; @newtosaur250; @bandsweyhey; @crystals-marie; @livinginadreamersparadise; @tommyswolves; @veronicarapp; @bilesbilinskix; @danathewitchywoman; @thisismexxo; @you-all-have-guns; @soulaura-canavel; @bojabee; @obrienswxlf; @feelingsareharddd; @xoitsjustmexo; @supernaturaltakeover; @suggsmate; @cassiee867; @malia--stilinski; @barryallenplease; @flirtstiles; @bottleoffirewhisky; @jadalecki-jackles; @evansesdust; @everythingthatisrandom

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Note: Tag list has been cleaned up as of 3.28.2018. If you were removed, please send me an ask so I can re-add you.

[charlesoberonn]

Desert Ship (Part 1 of 2)

For generations, my family line has been bless with the ability to control sand. “It’s our gift.” my father told me over and over again whenever he was around.

My ability first appeared when I was thirteen years old, when I managed to lift a single grain of sand in the air. I quickly tossed it around between me and my half-siblings. For the next few days I just ran between the communal tents, throwing sand around and making shapes in the sand with my siblings and friends much to the enjoyment of my mother and the annoyance of everybody else in the tribe.

That saturday, when my dad arrived to pick me up for his week of custody, I showed him my abilities. I was already able to move a mound of sand the size of a small vase. He was impressed, but he had a devious smile on his face. He asked me if I wanted to come on a trip with him in order to test my powers for real. I obviously accepted.

He took me to the middle of a dried up lake, quite a bit away from home. I held onto his shoulders as he swiftly carved our way through the sandy ground. His torso was poking out of a mound of sand, which was travelling across the ground at high speed. The wind was in my hair, but the sand blew out the sides of the mound and didn’t reach my eyes. I never noticed that in all the other times my dad took me out for a ride on his back. But now that I could control the sands as well, I learned to appreciate such details.

Finally, after nearly four hours of riding, with no more than a single stop for water and food, we reached our destination. At first it looked like a black dot in the bottom of the large empty basin. As we got closer and closer, I saw the dot take shape until I realized it was a vessel. But it wasn’t the kind of I expected to find there.

It was a ship. Only a small boat, about the length of five camels, and nearly three times as tall, not including its impressive poll, which lacked any sort of mast.

My dad nudged me to get off his back. I slid down the sand mound onto the ground which was surprisingly cool. The entire region was fairly chill compared to the desert I was used to, but it was still dry and sandy. I looked up at the ship. It was light brown and made of clay, nothing like the ships I’ve seen in picture books. It seemed to have burn marks, or something similar, around the top. Its bottom was buried under the sad I was currently standing on.

My father jumped out of his sand mound, landing on both his feet and shaking the last few grains off of his robe. He put a hand on my shoulder and looked up at the ship with me. “Do you recognize it, child?” he asked me.

I nodded. “It’s a boat.”

“Yes, indeed it is. But this boat hasn’t much longer on this earth.” he said.

I looked at him with childlike worry in my big eyes. “Why? What’s gonna happen to it?”

“You see, my child. In about one week, the rain season will come.” he pointed to the clouds in the far east, so distant and faint I could barely see them. “The rain will overflow the dried creaks and fill up the dams and rivers beyond this lake. This desert ground is not gonna be able to handle so much water.”

“It’s gonna be flooded.” I said.

“Exactly. And when it does, the water will rush in and crash into this boat, destroying it.”

“That fucking sucks.” I said and blushed, knowing I could only swear when my mom wasn’t around. My dad laughed.

“It sure does. But it doesn’t have to. You can save this boat.” he pointed at where we came from. “Use the sand, and carry this boat out of the lake before the rainy season washes it to oblivion.”

I opened my eyes wide, fixated on the boat. The small vessel now seemed massive. “But, but, it’s huge!” I pointed at the trail of sand through which we arrived. “And that’s 100 km away!”

“It’s only 73. Don’t worry, you’ll do fine.” he said, and he already took off. “I’m gonna set up a tent over here where we’ll sleep. Get started on the ship!”

“You’re a real asshole, dad!” I shouted at him.

“I know!” he shouted back.

The first day was the hardest. I tried several approaches but none of them yielded any results. At first I circled the ship looking for the best way to tackle it, but it seemed immovably huge and heavy no matter where I looked.

I tried going at it directly with force, just pushing as much sand as I could at it. But my paltry sand blasts did nothing to move it. I anything, it only added to the pile of sand that encircled the boat.

I tried lifting part of the boat from underneath, but it didn’t budge. On the other hand, I nearly collapsed as my hands and my mind strained in moving the sand stuck beneath the clay.

Clay! I finally realized. The ship was made of clay, that was a type of earth. I didn’t need to push the ship. I could move it directly. But I couldn’t make it respond. Not even a single budge. The ship wasn’t even resisting my sand power, it was simply unresponsive.

As the sun went down and the desert started getting much colder, I was already exhausted. I tried one last thing. I cleared as much sand away from around the ship as I could, trying to see what was underneath it. All I could see is more sand. It didn’t make any sense. I didn’t even see the bottom of the boat.

After an hour of digging, I was completely spent. I dragged myself into the nice and well lit tent my dad set up. Inside, the floor was already insulated and carpeted and a nice meal was cooking over the fire pit he set up. My dad might not be the most considerate of fathers, but he is an excellent vagabond.

As we were eating around the fire, I told my dad about everything I did. And how I went about doing so, and to his credit, he didn’t crack too many jokes about my failure, mostly just a tease here or there. I wasn’t too keen on them at the time, though. My arms were too tired to flip him the bird.

“Do you want me to help train you tomorrow?” he asked as we finished the meal and he started using the sand to scrub our plates clean.

“That was an option?” I asked with a groan, overreacting a bit. “Isn’t this supposed to be a test?”

“Of your abilities, yes. Not my patience. I want to see you succeed. Come on, tomorrow I’ll teach you some stuff.”

“Can’t we just skip the boat part then and just have you teach me?”

“Nope.”

The next day was a lot more pleasant. Dad told me the broth he gave me last night was a special superfood meant to restore my strength and my sand powers. He was right, after a comfortable sleep in the warm tent, I was as good as new. Or at least as good as somebody who had to wake up before dawn could be.

“Okay, the first thing I’m gonna teach you is the physics of sand.” he told me.

I groaned in response. “Physics?! I can do that back home. Teach me how to make a mound and travel real fast like you do.”

“Now, my child. I know this is boring, but I’ll try to simplify it for you.” he reached down and put his hand into the sand. “Sand is like a pillow, it’s full of tiny air pockets hiding between the grains. The deeper you go into the sand, the more it gets squished by the sand above it, and the denser it is. The closer the sand is to the surface, the less dense it is.”

He moved his hand, and a thin circle of sand cleared on the ground between us, no more than a centimeter deep. “Try to think of the desert not as a sandbox, but as layers. Each layer has to carry the weight of the layers above it. When you clear the top layer, the layers below it become more accessible.”

“Now.” he pointed at me. “Try to remove only the top layer of sand from over there. Try making a circle of 20cm in diameter.”

I walked over to the spot and moved the sand. It wasn’t at all a single layer, nor was it a circle. It was more like a tiny groove in the ground which quickly filled in as the sand around it rushed into it.

“Keep doing that until you succeed.” dad said as he stood up behind me.

I kept trying, and each time I simply created slightly flatter pits and holes in the sand. In a few minutes, the area around us looked like a gang of moles dug through it looking for treasure.

“Layers, child. Layers.” my dad said, a familiar sense of discomfort in his voice, very much mirroring my own. Though he seemed to have a lot more patience than me.

“What layers? I don’t see them. I just feel sand.” I sat down on the ground, pouting. “My legs are tired.”

“My child.” he grabbed me by the armpit and gently but firmly lift me back up onto my feet. He put a hand on my shoulder. “Do you feel the weight of your head on your shoulders?”

“Yeah?”

“And do you feel the weight of your shoulders and your head on your upper back?”

“I guess so?”

“And the weight of your torso on your pelvis?”

“I think I do.”

“And the weight of your entire body on your feet?”

“Yes. I do. My feet are killing me.”

“Those are layers. Now...” he pointed at a spot on the ground I haven’t yet ruined. “Take off the top of the head.”

I concentrated on the top of my head, the very top that isn’t supporting any weight. And with a swift movement, I pictured cutting it clean off. I looked down, and saw the flat divot I caused in the sand.

“Again!” he encouraged me, and I did it again, this time bigger.

I continued taking off layers in the sand. Each time I was getting closer to a perfect circle. After that, we moved on to second layers, and third ones. Dad even taught me more advanced techniques where I would swap two different layers to make removing both at once easier. Later he showed me the hand movement required to make waves in the sand with one or two layers, which we would drag away into an ever growing pile behind us as we made wave after wave.

Once again nightfall came. We returned to the tent. As we were eating another rejuvenating broth, my father stopped eating to compliment me. “You’re a very fast learner. It took me days until I was able to make waves.” he told me. “Then again, I was just splashing sand around and building elaborate castles until I was 14.” he joked.

I was excited. “I’m gonna move that ship tomorrow!” I promised him. And he smiled at me.

“I’m sure you will, my child.”

On the third day I felt a mix of excitement and fear. I was ready for the day. I was ready to move that boat, and I was even going to ask my father to teach me more techniques. My path was set, I was going to make it happen. What was once a tedious week became the best week ever, I was sure of it.

But in the early morning sky, much closer than before, I could clearly see storm clouds in the distant. It seemed my father’s forecast was going to come true. I didn’t have much time.

I stepped out onto the ship again, and I noticed something weird. All of the divots of sand and circles and waves my father and I made yesterday were gone. It made sense for the small holes and initial tiny waves to be swept away in the wind, but the enormous pile we both created was gone too. Erased from the sand. I put my hand onto where I remembered it was. The sand was clearly shifted there, different layers were mixed together and stacked on top of each other weirdly. But the pile itself was flat.

I grew concerned, but it wasn’t going to deter me. Today was about my plan, and my progress. I was going to make the ship move. I even had a plan on how to do it. A schedule.

The first hour I would clear the first layer of sand from all around the boat. The second hour I would start making waves around the back, until it was completely clear. Then, I would go ask my dad how to create moving mounds like he does. And tomorrow, I’m gonna start pushing the ship with my new ability.

I was a fast learner, after all.

But my plan wasn’t going as well as I hoped. Removing the layers wasn’t as straight forward as before. The perimeter of sand around the ship was easy enough, but the sand underneath and immediately next to the vessel was more difficult. The sand didn’t behave like I thought it should. It felt less like layers and more like columns. I tried removing the layers of the underground columns one by one like with the ground around it, but they didn’t budge. I decided to forgo phase one and move straight onto clearing the sand behind the ship.

I started making waves, and at first it was great. The sand moved easily underneath the clay body of the ship and I was making progress fast. The ship was even tilting a bit. I audibly cheered for myself when the ship first moved. It was a first step to success. The rest was just hard work.

But hard work became harder work, and later impossible work. Clearing the sand was an uphill battle. I created an ever larger pile of sand behind me, large enough to be called a small dune, but still it seemed like the sand never ran out. It just glided under the ship straight to me, and then more sand replaced it, rocking the ship left and right. It was an uphill battle, and I was losing.

As the sun came down and stars started appearing, I wasn’t nearly as close to completing any of the phases I set out to myself. And I didn’t even ask dad about phase three.

I sat back to lean against the dune I made, but was startled when instead I fell backwards onto the ground. The dune behind me was smaller than before. Much smaller. Barely a molehill in size. I looked around, wondering where it has gone. Then I saw it, a slight shift of sand flowing like a river away from my dune and back onto the underside of the boat. Even the perimeter of sand I cleared earlier was filling up again.

“Oh yeah, I forgot to mention!” my dad startled me again as shouted from just outside the tent. “The sand in this desert likes to put itself back together!”

My eyes opened wide with horror. I looked at the ship, which barely moved an inch since day one, and then at the approaching rainclouds.

“You’re such an asshole, dad!”

[buckyscurvylover]

Half Past The Point Of No Return 4/6 (Sebastian Stan x OFC NSFW)

Earlier Parts: One Two Three

Rating: Explicit Pairing: F/M Fandoms: Sebastian Stan - Fandom, Real Person Fiction, Romanian Actor RPF, Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF Relationships: Sebastian Stan/Original Female Character(s), Chris Evans/Original Female Character (mentioned) Characters: Sebastian Stan, Tara Sullivan (OFC), Chris Evans (mentioned) Additional Tags: Friends to Lovers, Queerplatonic Relationships, Jealousy, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Use, Under-negotiated Kink, d/s dynamics, Spanking, Praise Kink, Butt Plugs, Rope Bondage, Female Ejaculation, Deepthroating (no choking), Mutual Masturbation, Aftercare, Crying, Fight Sex, Pregnancy (mentioned), Love Bites, Angst, Smut, Fluff, A bit of everything... The BDSM really isn't that heavy... Stillbirth (mentioned)

Part 2 of The Deadliest Sin Series

Summary: The morning after the night before. Sebastian is grumpy, sore, tired, jealous and confused as hell about his Zucchini, Tara. Coffee isn't helping and he needs to talk to his therapist. Instead, it all blows up, leading to arguments, kissing and much, much more...

Notes: Inspired by The Mess We Made by @sebastianfloofyhair​ As always, HUGE thanks go to SebastianFloofyHair for letting me play in her sandbox - and in fact, actively encouraging me, helping me get the characterisation right for Tara and "Her" Sebastian instead of mine. This follows on directly from Invidia, and is pretty much just mostly smut. There is some Feels(tm) though - both angsty and fluffy varieties. If you don't want to be spoiled in a later chapter, please be sure to read chapter 6 of The Mess We Made before this.

Disclaimer:

I don't know the actual, real Sebastian Stan (or Chris Evans). This is just a facsimile of him and both he and the story bear no relation to reality. Any similarities in the scenario to Real Life™ are just coincidence. I intend no harm or upset to Sebastian, or his family and friends. Everything is completely made up from the depraved depths of my brain. Except for Tara. She belongs to SebastianFloofyHair

“I’ll be right here,” she said, biting playfully at his shoulder and he half laughed, half groaned in response.

“Dammit, woman, I said a minute!” He smirked tiredly, but made no move to stop her as she began trailing her fingers across his shoulder blades, brushing over every curve and arch, every hard edge and soft sweep of muscle. Circling a mole just to one side of his spine, she feathered gentle kisses across the top of his shoulder, into the thickness of his trapezius. Her lips parted as she sucked at his damp skin, the tip of her tongue swirling and her teeth grazing, and a contented noise rumbled through his chest. She continued her exploration, mapping another big freckle, barely raised, at the back of his ribcage, as she sketched across the lines of each rib, barely scratching his sides with her nails until his skin ruched up into goosebumps.

“I thought about it, you know,” she murmured against his neck, laying a ribbon of open mouthed kisses up towards his ear.

“Mmmm? Thought about what?” he asked lazily, tilting his head to expose the sensitive area behind his earlobe and shivering when she skimmed her lips over it.

“About this. Us,” she said, her fingers tracing lines up over his abdomen, the muscles twitching under the almost-tickle, and his back arched his belly away from her until her touch firmed up. “You wanted to know why,”

Sebastian lifted his head, frowning, and began to speak but she shushed him by covering his mouth with hers, kissing him softly, lapping at his lips, against his tongue, in a slow caress that left him breathless all over again. “You’re my friend. My best friend. I don’t ever want to risk that... didn’t...” She paused, her lips still hovering over Sebastian’s, before smiling wryly, self-consciously. “Besides, physically, I’m not exactly your usual type. I didn’t think you’d want that with someone like me...” His frown deepened and he made to reply again, but she shook her head, fighting the prickle of tears behind her eyes. “So I stopped thinking about it. And that was okay. I didn’t realise... you never said...” Her voice wobbled and she buried her face into his neck, absently flicking the pad of her thumbs across his still-pebbled nipples and he drew a shuddering breath. Her breath was hot against his collarbone.

His heart thudded painfully in his chest. He looked down at the mess of waves currently sheltering her from his gaze, and rested his cheek against them. “You really think that of me? That I’m that shallow?” he asked quietly, stung a little, then shook his head. “No, okay, let’s... later. We’ll talk later. But Tara?” He waited, stroking his fingers along the dip of her spine, until she eventually made a sound of acknowledgement, “I thought of you, too. When we met at college?” he chuckled self-consciously. “Thought of you far too much. Figured what would someone as smart and pretty want with a geeky drama kid with crooked teeth. And remember the VMAs? The ones where you insisted on taking that picture of me next to Hulk Hogan so I looked like I weighed maybe 90 pounds soaking wet?”

She snorted, her face still pressed into him, and reached up to tug on a lock of his hair. “You mean with those sexy blond highlights?” He lightly smacked her backside in response, and she whimpered as renewed fire flooded the sensitised skin.

“Yes, those too. Well when I saw you in that gorgeous lilac number, the one with the deep purple sash and the neckline down to your navel? I very much thought about you then too, and for most of the next week. Definitely thought about you when we were in Jamaica. Wanted to swap places with that girl you hooked up with so bad and get my mouth on you. Not to mention the whole Bulgari party,” He watched her ears turn red at the reminder, biting his lip at the memory of that night, and how close he’d been to kissing her that night, far more than kissing, if she’d have let him. “And Jesus, darlin’ if you keep doing this,” he slid his hands between them to settle over hers where they were still stroking absently, “then I’m gonna be too wound up to give you the attention you deserve. Or do I have to tie you up?”

“I’m thinkin’ you might have to, if you want me to keep my hands off you,” she told him, shifting closer to him and settling her palms on his waist, “And also, I really, really want to mark you up... right here...” Her lips parted against an especially erogenous spot at the side of his neck and she settled her teeth against his skin, barely scraping as she teased lemniscates with the tip of her tongue.

Tipping his head to expose the length of his throat, he groaned softly before he spoke. “Oh you do, huh? Well, maybe you best make the most of it before I have you safely bound up then,” She blinked her eyes open, watching as he reached for the carefully coiled roped beside him and began unwinding it. He smirked, biting his lip. “Hmm, can’t back up your threats? Mayb-” His words melted into a sharp inhalation, then a moan, as she bit down, suckling hard, her tongue swiping over the darkening bruise forming under her lips. He dropped the rope beside him and his hands lifted, tangling into her mass of copper waves as each pull of her mouth, a combination of pain and pleasure, arced down to his groin and coiled in his pelvis. His voice was gravel when he spoke. “You don't know how much I love it that you like playin’ rough, babe.”

His thighs tensed as his hands fell to her waist, and he pressed into the pinch of her teeth for one last moment. Then Tara yelped as the room flipped, and she found herself face first on the comforter, with him, one knee between her own, tucking her hands against the still-smarting curve of her ass. He reached over her, to the drawer of her bedside table, and rooted around for a second; when his fingers closed over a pair of angled medical scissors, he withdrew his hand, dropping them onto the top, and raised his eyebrows, wordlessly asking for her consent. Biting her lip, she nodded firmly, murmured “Yes, I want it”, and he felt the first thickening of his dick as he returned her nod once in confirmation, before shifting back upright.

With a couple of deft movements, he looped the rope around her arms, working methodically to bind them together. “Still, I did warn you. Seein’ as you can’t keep those talented hands of yours off me...” With the ends of the half tied rope in his hands, he leaned over her shoulder, nudged her chin with his nose and settled his lips on hers; they kissed, slow and deep, before reluctantly he pulled away, thick, dark lashes brushing against the arch of his cheeks until his eyes opened to meet hers. “... not to mention your fuckin’ incredible mouth...” He threw her a look that made her belly swoop, as he gazed through his lashes, eyes - full of dark promise - focusing on her face as his lips curled into an indecent grin, and she squeezed her thighs together at the swelling ache between them. “... now I hafta make you,”

Her breath shuddered as he returned to kneel beside her, continuing to wind the silk rope around her biceps, just underneath her elbows, the middle of her forearms. As her arms became less mobile, reality began softening, and she let herself drift back towards the sense of floating, of changing focus. Her whole mind centred on the ever increasing desire burning in her pelvis, the gentle caress of his fingers against her skin as he worked, the scent of him so close. The sensuous slither of the silk rope against her skin sent tremors through her, until her toes clenched in the bedclothes, and he paused in his activity, placing a hand on her hip.

“Alright Tara?” he asked, a crease, the ghost of a frown, forming between his eyes as he leaned forwards to see her face. She blinked back the desire, soft focus smudging her thoughts, and nodded.

“Yes... yes, good,” she reassured him, licked her lips and his eyes settled on her mouth, mirroring her action unconsciously. She groaned at the touch of his tongue to his swollen lips, her eyes closing, and shifted, her hips arching into the mattress in search of a little pressure, any relief from the ever-increasing throbbing between her legs. He rolled back on his heels, his lip pulled between his teeth as the sound travelled straight to his groin, and concentrated on finishing her bindings. She barely noticed as he carefully slipped a finger between all of the loops and her arm, pulling gently to even out the tension, before tying the final knot.

“Clench and relax your hands for me, Tara,” he ordered, watching carefully as she did so. “If you start hurting or feel funny, you safeword or tell me immediately, babe, okay? Hard limit,”

She nodded, warmth flaring in her solar plexus at his words and the world blurred even further beyond the rub of the bindings, his weight pressing against her leg, and the heat and moisture building in her pussy. An experimental shrug against his knotwork just amplified everything. When she felt his knuckles tapping at her hip, she narrowed her eyes against the lightness in her head that made everything feel like cotton wool and nodded again. “Okay, yes... Yes, I will,” she said dreamily. After a pause, she added “‘S clementine.”

Sebastian’s head tipped back between his shoulders and he drew in a sharp breath, his cock twitching at her already blissed out timbre, even before he’d touched her. He was going to make sure that she would remember this forever, he promised himself, sweeping his gaze along her body with his heart swelling, full of what felt dangerously close to love love as he memorised her blind trust in him. “That’s right, good girl,” His voice was thick when he spoke, with emotion, with arousal. “So good for me, sweetheart,” and she whimpered. His hands closed around her hips, and he said “Up on your knees, I’ll help.”

She found her hips lifting before her mind had caught onto his words but followed his lead until she had her knees tucked under her. His thighs pressed against the back of her own for just a moment before he moved back to stand beside the bed, his hands resting lightly on the outside of her thighs

“Shit, babe, I almost want to just lie on my back and have you ride my mouth, but I have plans for you.” he said roughly, and she groaned loudly at the image. She shifted her thighs together as a new rush of wetness bloomed from her core and he tapped against one leg. “Shift yourself back; slowly though,” he said. Trying to look behind her, and failing, she sucked in a breath against the nervousness in her stomach and carefully shuffled herself backwards the few inches until she felt herself teetering at the edge of the mattress. His hands squeezed her hips in warning. “Stop there. Good girl. Now, one leg at a time, okay? Left first, put your foot down to the floor, but keep your chest against the bed. Understand?” He voice was low, firm, but warm, and she made a noise of agreement, his commands settling her nerves. His fingers loosely curled around her thigh as she stretched out her leg, feeling for the floor and steadying herself. Waiting obediently until Sebastian tapped her right leg, she followed that down until her toes were scrunching into the plush of the rug beneath them. “Almost there,” he told her, his hands settling back onto her hips as he pressed his thigh between hers, his cock bumping against the hypersensitive skin of her buttock as he used his foot to spread her feet apart until he was satisfied.

Turning to glance back over her shoulder as he stepped back and into her line of sight, she whimpered softly. The muted winter sun streaming through the sheer curtain highlighted every defined muscle, his skin glowing in the soft yellow light as if still lightly tanned from summer. His hair was ruffled, thick and curling at the nape of his neck, his lips swollen and blushing, but his eyes... his eyes spoke volumes, surrounded by thick lashes, the pupils blown wide with just the tiniest highlight of the lightest, beautiful blue, and when they met hers, she bit her lip.

“Jesus, Tara, you have no idea... You look absolutely stunning right now and I am this close...” He held his thumb and forefinger about a half inch apart. “... to just takin’ you right now, slidin’ my cock as deep as I can into you and fuckin’ you until you’re beggin’ me to let you come,” His eyes drifted shut for a moment as he groaned, his cock jerking, and she whined. Blinking his eyes open, his lids heavy, he moved back towards her, his palm settling over the curve of her ass and squeezing the over-sensitive skin. Tara gasped, pressing her forehead into the comforter at the flood of bright sensations hot and stinging under his hand.

“You look so fuckin’ good, sweetheart, my marks all over that fantastic ass of yours...” he paused, ducking to bite at the fullest curve of the cheek, before comforting the ache with a stroke of his tongue, a kiss, even as she moaned into the bed. Leaning forwards, he placed his hand on the mattress, hovering his lips over her ear, his breath gusting across her jaw, and whispered, ”... that beautiful pink plug inside your ass, keeping you open for me, just in case...” His lips settled behind her earlobe, teasing at the same moment as his fingers began tapping out a pattern on the glass still visible. He bit his lip, grinning as she whimpered his name, frustration already veining her voice as her back arched and she pushed back into his touch against the toy. He pushed himself back up and she could hear him walking around her as he continued speaking. “... that royal purple rope contrastin’ so perfectly with everythin’ else, but most of all?” The sound of a cushion falling, coming to rest against the polished wood flooring. “This...”

Sebastian dropped to his knees and swiped the full length of his tongue along her flushed, slick folds, only stopping when he nudged against the cool hardness sitting snugly inside her ass. Her knees buckled at the unexpected sensation, a startled Oh! bursting from her, and he grinned to himself as he steadied her legs. “Your pretty pussy, all swollen and soaking wet, your clit just achin’ for me to get my mouth on it... Fuck, babe, you taste even better than I imagined you would,” he groaned, leaning in to sample her flavour again, dipping his tongue between her lips as his hands settled against the bare strip of soft flesh above the lace of her stockings.

Tara whined at the wet heat against her, at the way his tongue barely flicked at her clit, her pulse pounding through it, echoing her heart. There was an explosion of tingling when he lapped all too briefly where she was stretched around the plug buried inside her and she struggled to arch back, to press herself against him. With every touch she sank deeper into the softness of subspace, pierced only by her rapidly swelling need to come again. “Please, I need you, Sebastian,” she begged, and he soothed her with the brush of his hands, quiet noises of reassurance.

“Hang on, sweetheart, you’re doing so well for me, but I need you to listen now,” he murmured, “Can you do that for me?” She nodded, adding a soft yes, and he smiled, placing open mouthed kisses to the back of each thigh, just above the edge of the stockings. “You’re going to stand there, until I’ve had my fill of using my mouth and my fingers and anything else that I decide to use on you, and you’re not going to come until I say so,” She groaned desperately, her hips bucking towards him, seeking out contact, until he stilled her with both hands. “But when I say you can come, then you can come as many times as you can manage before your legs give way. Think you can manage that for me?”

Tara nodded vigorously against the comforter under her cheek as she spoke. “Yes, yes, please, Sebastian...” she pleaded and he caught his lip between his teeth, feeling himself throb as she almost vibrated with need. He reached down to wrap his hand around himself, stroking his cock a couple of times just to ease the overwhelming desire to simply take her, there and then. With a final squeeze, and a deep breath, he raised both hands to steady her pelvis as he leaned over to suck and bite at the inside of her thighs. She shuddered, moaned into the bed as her restless body grazed her taut nipples across the fabric, her eyes closing against the rush of sensations, her pussy flooding with another burst of arousal.

Sebastian's eyes closed, her scent building with every word, every touch, every passing second, and he licked his lips.”Good girl,” he ground out, and finally settled his mouth, wide open, over her core and suckled hungrily, licking firm strokes through her wetness. He swept across her clit, one hand kneading at her sensitive inner thigh, already pinking up from the scruff on his jaw. The thumb of the other hand slipped between her lips, in the slick gathered there, before nestling between the curves of her ass and teasing at the stretched muscle around the plug, following it around the full circumference. She gasped, turning her head to crush her face into the bed, stifling the noises spilling from her lips as he slowly twisted the plug in time with the deep, broad sweeps of his tongue over her. His tongue worked from her clit to her opening and her hands fisted against her arching back under the overwhelming stimulation. The pinch on the tender skin of her thigh jolted her, and he pulled away a fraction, his words ghosting over her intimately.

“Don’t you dare hide those fuckin’ amazing sounds you’re makin’,” he told her, before teasing her as he added, “You sure made plenty of ‘em last night...” His belly still churned at the thought of her with Chris, but his anger had faded. The memory of the previous evening flashed into his head, and he shivered. When he spoke again, lust slurred his words. “Could hear you downstairs, an’ I had to get myself off because all I could think of was you, wanted it to be me makin’ you moan like that, wanted it to be my cock inside you when you came...”

His moan matched hers as he dived back in, lapping inside her before tracking up, swiping over her until his mouth collided with his thumb, placing long sweeps across the junction between skin and glass until she mewled his name. She was already so close, her need wound so tightly in her pelvis, that the idea of not coming seemed almost impossible. The sensation sparking out from his tongue against her stretched skin had her right on the edge, yet somehow he seemed to know and he kept his movements just a little too slow, a little too light, kept her oh, so close, until her belly was aching.

“Sebastian, please...” she gasped and he pulled back, placed a series of kisses along the inside of her thigh.

“Please what, sweetheart? You wanna come?” he asked, and she nodded, begged, yes, yes, please, let me... His cock hardened painfully, and he drew a slow breath in through his nose to calm himself before speaking. “Not just yet, darlin’,” he replied, soothing a hand across her hip as she whined. “You’re being so good for me, just a bit longer,”

Reaching up, he watched as he slicked his first two fingers through her arousal, finding her opening and circling, before sliding them inside her. Her back arched on a moan, and his head dropped forwards, resting against the back of her thigh as she clenched around them.

“Fuck, babe, you feel incredible,” he ground out, his other hand dropping to once more squeeze at his cock; God knows why he thought he’d be able to do this and still be good to fuck her properly... right about now, he figured he’d be lucky if he managed to get inside her without coming. He squeezed again, painfully tightly, and willed himself to calm down, before withdrawing his fingers, right to the tips, then sliding back until his knuckles pressed against her. Settling his mouth back over her clit, he scribed his name with the pointed tip of his tongue in perfect school-book cursive, invisibly marking even her sex as his. As she tightened around his slowly sliding fingers, her clit swelling in warning as she hovered ever closer to the peak, he drew back, biting his lip at her half sobbed wail of frustration.

“So good, that’s it,” he consoled, “I know, babe, I know... Want you so bad too, want to be inside you, feelin’ you tighten around me, want to fuck you so bad, shit, Tara...” he gasped, leaking precome against his belly, his cock twitching. He blew out a breath, tightening his hold on his own control, and placed a kiss at the underside of each buttock. “Everyone knows about the G spot...” He found the ruffled patch inside her, flickering his fingertips over it and she whimpered, clamping down on him, “... but have you ever heard of the A spot?” he asked.

She struggled, like walking through molasses, through the warm fuzziness inside her mind and forced out a no, shaking her head, before her concentration was once more focused on the aching, burning throb in her clit, her belly, her pussy, on not letting the pleasure overwhelm her until he said so. He grinned at her response.

“Oh, darlin’... Let’s see if we can find it, huh?” he suggested, and she nodded desperately, her fingers spreading. He reached up with his other hand, covered both of hers and squeezed, feeling her reciprocate, her skin warm and he settled back on his heels, reassured that the rope wasn’t tightening unpleasantly around her wrists. The glide of his fingers within her, slipping deeper into her pussy until they were buried inside her drew a long moan from her lips, her eyes rolling underneath her closed eyelids. She rocked into his movements as far as she could, biting her lip. He flicked his fingers in a come-hither gesture, and her eyes flew open, a surprised whimper as a new, different coil of sensation spiraled to her clit, along with a fresh rush of wetness over his fingers, leaking around his knuckles.

“That’s it, sweetheart!” he groaned, bending to lap up the fluid seeping over his hand. “Almost there, just a little bit longer. When I say so, you can come...” Another flick of his fingers, another trickle which he sucked greedily from his hand. “... and when you do, I want you to squirt all over my fuckin’ face, babe,” The noise she made at his words was one that he was pretty sure would haunt his fantasies for a very long time. By the time he started shaping the alphabet across her clit in time with the flicks of his fingertips, her legs were already trembling. His palm rubbed circles over the lace of the stocking and every few letters he paused, collecting the slick gathering on his hand, occasionally trickling down against his cheek, before continuing.

All she could do by now was feel. Every nerve ending was dialled up, the slide of the rope against her arms was like fire under the skin, each pass of his tongue against her a spark of almost painful pleasure, and it took everything in her to fight back the urge to let go, to arch against him for just that few seconds it would take to send her over the edge. Even his hand, now steadying her hip, flared with sensation that went straight to where she was clenching around his fingers as they fluttered inside her mercilessly. She wasn’t sure how long it had been, only that it felt like he’d been licking over her for what seemed like forever, when his tongue tripped just right across her clit, and she whined, her eyes flying open.

“Oh God, m’close... Stop, please Sebastian!” she gasped out, and he eased back, watching as she shuddered away from the edge.

“Fuck, Tara,” he murmured, his voice filled with admiration, “you’re so perfect for me, look at you!” Stretching himself up, he peppered her with kisses, across the small of her back, the palm of her trembling hand, over her buttocks, and down to the back of her thighs, all the while, praise spilling from him, how beautiful, how clever, how fuckin’ sexy, how good, oh, so fuckin’ good for me. With both hands he tipped her hips, shifting her stance, and turned, settled back between her thighs but with his back against the side of the bed this time. Planting a careful kiss over her pelvic bone, he wriggled until he found the right angle, tucked his fingers back inside of her, and when he spoke, his breath gusted across her soaked folds. “Come for me now, sweetheart,” he ordered.

Sebastian fastened his lips around her clit, sucking it into his mouth as he traced the letter M across it with his tongue, over and over, unerringly finding that new spot again inside her and flickering the pads of his fingers against it. She cried out wordlessly, spasming around him as, almost immediately, the tension burst, spreading through her in waves that prickled at her skin, her scalp tingling and her legs shaking furiously; her release flooded from within her, over his hand, drenching his cheeks, his lips, soaking into his scruff as he opened his mouth wider to suckle and swallow, prolonging the pleasure with soft flutters of his fingers.

Just when she thought he was going to stop, as he withdrew his hand, greedily lapping the excess moisture from his palm, he closed his mouth over her once more. As he licked tight circles around her oversensitive clit, she whimpered, feeling her arousal build back up, even through the almost painful flicks of his tongue. When his still-damp fingers wound around the base of the toy inside her ass, twisting and steadily pulling against her reflexive clench at the blaze of pleasure, she cried out helplessly. He dragged the flared glass back past the muscle only to begin gliding it back and forth, in and out, keeping pace with the swirl of his tongue and the cling of his lips. In no time, her voice broke around his name as pleasure exploded through her a second time. Plunging the plug back in to the hilt, his mouth opened over her to capture the fresh rush from within her pussy, laving over her in long, firm sweeps with the flat of his tongue and her legs finally collapsed underneath the onslaught. In an instant, strong hands and solid arms caught her, settling at her hips and guiding her to rest her wobbling knees against his shoulders. He nursed her through the shudders until, with her whole body trembling, she collapsed against him, her chest and belly heavy against the comforter as she sucked in lungfuls of air.

“Thassit, atta girl,” he murmured, quickly wiping his mouth and chin against his shoulder before hauling her limp form down to kneel across his waist and cradling her head against his chest for a moment. His hands dropped to her wrists, quickly pulling apart the knot and unravelling the bindings by feel as he whispered to her, how incredible she was, doing just what I wanted, being so good for me, such a good girl, driving me crazy, so beautiful. When the last coils fell away, he tossed the rope to the side and carefully brought her arms forward, rotating her shoulders, her wrists and kneading at the muscles, the trapezius, the deltoids. Only when he had checked her skin, confident there were no chafed patches or bruising, that she could move and feel everything, only then did he sink his hands into her hair and pull her in for a searing kiss.

Time seem to slow to a crawl as he lost himself in the slide of his lips over hers, the stroke of his tongue against her own, the warmth and comfort surrounding him even as it inflamed him more. One hand shifted, settled against her jaw, thumb caressing her cheek as finally Tara could reach, touch, her hands mapping his chest and shoulders. She swallowed the gasps that spilled from his lips as her nails raked across the hard nubs of his nipples, rubbing firmly then pulling, twisting until he arched beneath her, his knees bending, thighs against her back as his feet settled flat to the wood floor.

When they eventually separated, he held her forehead to his. Breathless, his cheeks flushed and his skin burning with need, he brushed his nose against hers. When his eyes blinked open to meet hers, Tara’s breath hitched at the emotion in his gaze.

I am so screwed, she thought.

The Science Bits:

The A-Spot is a real erogenous zone, along with the P-Spot (not to be confused with boys stealing the term to refer to the prostate or perineum) and are found much higher up the vagina than the G-Spot at the level of the cervix, on the front and back walls respectively. The A-Spot often helps to increase lubrication, even in women who normally struggle for various reasons. There's also the K-Spot (just above the anus), the U-Spot (erectile tissue just above the urethral opening but below the clitoris) and the O-Spot (opposite the G-Spot and a bit higher), if you want to go exploring!

[mf-despair-queen]

Crawling Chaos - Part One - Void Stiles

Author: @mf-despair-queen​

Characters: Void Stiles/Reader

Word Count: 3,496

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Oral (Female receiving), Fingering, Riddles

Notes: My first Void smut? My first Void smut. Not sure how well this will really go tbh because I don’t think I’m good at portraying Void. But let me know for sure if you do like it. This idea has been in my mind for a few weeks now, and all because I was listening to one certain anime opening at work called Koi wa Chaos no Shimobenari. It kind of gave me the idea for what to do with this, even though it has NOTHING to do with the song. Also, side note, i did use Google Translate for one small thing in here. Don’t blame me if it is wrong.

Part 2  Part 3

The moon barely broke through the treetops, but you could see perfectly. You wandered alone through the dark abyss of the woods, unsure where you were at this point. You had been on the run for so long that you didn’t care where you ended up at this point. You just knew you were somewhere in California..

You knelt down by a bush, observing the tiny flowers that were blooming on its branches. They swayed gently in the breeze, your nose picking up on the faint aroma they were exuding. You gave a tiny smile, running your fingers over the petals careful.

With one touch, the flowers began to wither.

You smile widened, watching the flowers die in front of you. These were the little things that you lived for. It may sound odd, but it’s true. Everywhere you went, disaster followed. Every time you stepped into a town, chaos ensured. The people turned mad, turning against each other in an instant. And you know what?

It made you happy.

The flower dropped to the ground, your bare foot smashing it into the dirt. You giggled at the action, feeling the crunch of it under your toes. You spotted another bush with flowers, skipping over to it to repeat the actions.

“Little dove, who let you out of your cage?”

You froze, your fingers inches from the next flower you were about to kill. You turned to the mysterious voice, spotting a figure sitting atop a giant tree trunk. You could feel the power the tree held, as well as the ominous aura of the figure atop it.

You slowly stood up, taking a good look at the person who addressed you. He was pale with dark circles evident under his dark, whiskey eyes. His chocolate colored hair was disheveled, sticking up in random directions. He had a smirk plastered on his smooth, luscious lips. Moles littered his perfectly defined jawline. He sat cross-legged on the stump, clad in some khakis and a gray striped shirt. You guessed he had some decent muscle under that shirt with the way it clung to his arms and chest. You were even more sure of what the package down below held, a small bulge apparent in his crisscrossed legs.

You narrowed your eyes at the male, pursing your lips. You were trying to stay calm, unsure what to expect with him. “It’s kind of hard to keep me caged. I always seem to slip out. What about you? Someone let you roam free without a leash?”

The man chuckled lowly, leaning back on his hands. “No one can contain me.” You smiled slightly, thrilled by his resilience to the world. There was something about the man in front of you that excited you. He crawled off the stump, slowly making his way towards you. “Now, tell me. What exactly are you, little dove? What kind of beautifully destructive being are you?”

His hand cupped your cheek, his fingers caressing it gently. His eyes bore into yours, your face heating up with him being near. “Y-You probably wouldn’t know what I am. And if you do, you wouldn’t believe me.”

He grinned, a dark glint in his eyes. “Try me, little dove.”

Your mouth was dry, and swallowing did nothing to relieve the pain it was causing. You licked your lips, his eyes following its every move. “I’m a nyarlathotep.”

He blinked slowly, processing what you said. Within a second, he burst out laughing, stepping away from you. “The crawling chaos? You’re the crawling chaos? I’ve hit the fucking motherload. This is brilliant.”

You cocked your head, missing the warmth of his body already. “How exactly is that good for you? It’s good for me, yes. I’m the one that enjoys it.”

He jumped atop the tree trunk, looking down at you. “Oh kitten. You haven’t realized what I am then?”

Sending him a glare, you took in his features once more. Aside from the dark aura surrounding his being, he seemed like an ordinary human. He didn’t smell different. You could almost mistake him for being weak ad fragile if you didn’t know he had real muscle hiding under his clothes. Your eyebrows knit together, frustration on your face. I’m sorry. You look like an ordinary human If you ask me.”

“So simple, kitten.” He jumped off the stump, taking long strides towards you. You took a few steps back, your back colliding with a nearby tree. His hand gripped the bark, trapping you against it before you could slip free. “I’m sure in your time on this earth you’ve heard of a nogitsune.”

Your eyes locked with his, widening slightly. “I’ve only heard tales. Never met one personally though.” You looked him up and down now that he was closer, smirking slightly. “You took over a teenage boy? Whatever possessed you to do that?”

He chuckled, twirling a piece of your hair around his finger. “He was open to it. A smart but easy mind I could slip inside. But I could ask the same thing about you. Why take the form of an innocent, young girl?”

You giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck. In the sweetest voice you could muster, you said, “Well, no one would ever suspect an innocent girl like me to turn a town mad, now would they?”

He groaned, shifting against you. “I can’t argue that fact, kitten.” He licked his lips, his breath fanning over your face. “Being near you sure in enticing, kitten. I can feel the chaos you possess within you. It’s delicious.” You felt something prodding at your thigh, a soft whimper escaping your lips. “We could do great things together, kitten. Together, we can spread chaos through all of Beacon Hills. What do you say?”

You nodded, tugging him closer by the shirt. Your breathing was coming out in shallow pants, your body warm against his. “I will only play with you if you play with me first. I’m not one to help another so lightly. Show me how devious you can be, nogitsune.”

His eyes glinted in the faint moonlight, a mysterious twinkle in them. “Well then, let’s play a game, kitten. Answer my riddles, and I will reward you. Also, just call me…Void.”

You glared at him. “Riddles? That’s the best you got, Void?” You meant to taunt him, attempting to manipulate him to do what you wanted. But he didn’t budge, messing with the buttons on the shirt you were wearing.

“First one. The more you have it, the less you see. What is it?” He slowly began undoing the buttons, feeling your chest moving as you held your breath. He saw the wheels turning, trying to find the answer. He knew you couldn’t resist answering.

“Darkness.” You said confidently. He nodded, ripping the shirt the rest of the way, the buttons flying in different directions and getting lost in the dirt and leaves. The cold air hit your chest, a shiver running through your body. “Shit, it’s cold outside.”

“And yet, you have no shoes on.” He quipped, running his fingers along your skin. “You chose a nice form this time around. Beautiful to the eye, but reeking of chaos and strife. What else do you got, kitten?” His hand tugged at your bra, leaving you to mentally curse the human contraption. “Next riddle. I pass before the sun, yet make no shadow. What am I?”

You huffed, tugging on his shirt. You were getting annoyed, partially from the riddles and partially from the lack of interaction he was giving you. You were burning up inside, and he wanted to tell you riddles. “The wind,” you muttered through clenched teeth. He didn’t waste a second, the bra ripping easily between his fingers. Your breasts bounced freely from its confines, nipples already erect from the cold.

Void licked his lips, staring down at them. “Correct. You’re a smart one kitten. Contemplate this one while I reward you. What is it that is deaf, dumb and blind and always tells the truth?”

You blinked once, Void gone from your sight before you knew it. His lips wrapped around one of your nipples, his tongue running over the bud slowly. You moaned aloud, your hands tangling in his hair. Your mind blanked, only thinking about the feeling his mouth was giving you. His hand gripped at the other breast, groping it between his fingers, making the veins in his hand pop out more. Your moans grew louder, his tongue flicking over the nipple repeatedly. He paused only once to swap breasts, repeating his actions.

You were shaking under him, trying to focus on the riddle he gave you. “It’s a-a…fuck!” You screamed, his fingers tweaking one nipples while his teeth nibbled at the other. Your head fell back against the tree, your hair getting stuck in the bark. You were writhing against him, struggling to stay composed. “A-a mirror! A fucking mirror! Fuck!”

He released the nipple with an audible pop, sucking on random spots on your chest. “Good girl. How am I doing so far?”

You scowled at him. “You’re a prick.”

He chuckled, popping the button on your jeans and slipping his hand into your panties. His fingers flicked against your core, collecting the juices that leaked out. “Mmm. You say that, but I obviously am doing something right.” He pulled his hand out, leaving you whimpering. “Get this one right, and I will reward you again. What can you break without hitting or dropping it?”

You gripped at his arms, your nails digging into the material of his shirt. They flexed under you, confirming your suspicions that he had hidden muscles. He pressed you closer to the tree, his lips brushing against yours briefly. You whimpered again, barely managing to utter anything “A-a promise.”

“I got a smart one right here.” He dipped down, tugging the jeans and panties down your silky legs, stripping them from around your ankles and discarding them into the bushes. He blew against your folds, feeling your legs trembling. “Now, let me hear you scream, kitten.”

His mouth connected with your entrance, swiping his tongue along your folds. You mewled, your fingers gripping at his hair, tugging it relentlessly. You felt his lips tug upwards, his tongue delving into your dripping pussy. It swirled in circles, gathering every drop of liquid you had released.

“Void,” You whined, your legs turning to jelly. His tongue thrust into you quickly, wiggling against your walls. His ears perked up at the growing volume of your whines, your hips thrusting into his face. His tongue went deeper, rubbing your walls with the tip. “I need to feel more. Please.”

He pulled away, replacing his tongue with two fingers, scissoring them while he drove into you. Your whines turned into small screams, your teeth digging into your lip to muffle them slightly. His tongue grazed your clit, flicking at the nub continuously. His fingers pounded your pussy, rubbing against your sensitive spots every time.

“Come on, kitten,” he taunted, nibbling at your clit. “I want to hear you scream. Scream while you cum.”

His lips wrapped around your clit, giving it a hard suck. His hand sped up, your body jerking more than before. You finally let out a loud scream, letting his name bounce off the trees while you came around his fingers, feeling your juices dripping freely down your thighs. Your body shook, your hands resting on his shoulders to keep from collapsing.

He lapped at your juices, licking his fingers clean once he pulled them from you. He carefully stood up, his hand resting on your hip to keep you steady. You were panting wildly, your eyes bearing holes into him. “One final riddle, kitten. Then I will tell you a secret.” You mumble a small curse, watching him tug the shirt he was wearing over your head. “No sooner spoken than broken. What is it?”

You stared at his toned chest, noting the patch of hair that was growing on his chest and the even more notable trail of hair that lined his stomach, disappearing into his khakis. You barely processed the fact that he had told you a riddle, your mind fixated on the handsome creature in front of your eyes.

“Well, kitten? What’s the answer?”

You blinked, looking back up with him. “Oh. Um.” You thought momentarily, staring into his dark eyes. “Silence. It’s silence, isn’t it?”

He grinned, leaning close to your ear. “So smart. Silence is correct. It’s also something we won’t be having here soon. Now, let me tell you a secret. Something only the two of us can know.” Your breath hitched, feeling his lips brush against the shell of your ear. He wet his lips, his tongue skimming against your earlobe, leaving you shaking at the small action. “Anata ga mohaya aruku koto ga dekinaku naru made, watashi wa anata o tsuyoku fakku shimasu. Anata wa watashi no namae o sakebudeshou.” You shivered at his words, clearly understanding what he had just told you.

I’m going to fuck you hard and fast until you can no longer walk. You will scream my name.

You fumbled with the button on his jeans, your lips colliding with his finally. He roughly shoved you against the tree, his mouth sloppily meshing with yours. Your tongues battled your dominance, his overtaking yours easily. His hips ground into yours while he kissed you, muffling your gasps of pleasure. His head tilted to the side, allowing him to enclose his lips completely around yours. You couldn’t deny that his lips were soft, but that was the least of your concerns currently. You just wanted to feel all of him.

He pulled back, helping undo his jeans, letting you push them down to his knees, his boxers following shortly after. You glanced down at his giant cock, watching it slap his stomach, seeing the precum seeping from the red tip, observing the way it twitched in anticipation. He hiked one of your legs up around his waist, aligning himself with your pussy. With one quick thrust forward, his cock burrowed into you to the hilt, a loud scream ripped from your throat.

He didn’t waste any time, slamming upwards into you, driving his cock into you ruthlessly. Your back scraped against the bark of the tree, red marks covering your soft skin. You gripped at his shoulders, scratching at his back as loud moans hit his ears. He let out small grunts, unrelenting as he smashed himself into you.

“Fuck me, Void. Oh my god!” Your head fell back, your leg tightening around his waist, allowing him to hit even deeper. He groaned in response, his fingers leaving dark bruises on your thighs from where they were pressing into you. The other hand gripped at your waist, helping you move so you would meet his thrusts rhythmically. They met in perfect unison, causing louder screams to echo through the woods.

He let go of your thigh, slipping his fingers to your clit, rubbing random, feverish motions at the engorged nub. He felt your walls tightening around his cock, your body squirming in his grasp. His name flew from your lips countless times, unraveling in his arms. Your toes curled into his back and the dirt, your back arching off the tree he was pounding you into. Your nails raked his back harshly, drawing small amounts of blood from the pressure. Your head buried into his neck, biting at it as you came around him, his moan fueling your orgasm. Your fluids splattered your walls around him, providing extra lubrication for his rough thrusts as you rode out your peak.

He grunted, pulled from you quickly, wrapping his arm around your waist. You squeaked when he picked you up off the ground, carrying you over to the trunk he had been perched upon earlier that night, his pants left on the ground. He placed you in front of it, spinning you so your back pressed against his chest. His hands fondled your breasts, his head dipping to kiss and bite at your neck. You moaned, feeling his stiff cock pressing against your back. Your body heated up quickly, your pussy aching for him.

“Void please. I need you still. Please.”

“Oh, kitten,” he chuckled menacingly. “We’ve barely started.” He pushed you forward, your hands catching on the trunk. His hand pressed into your back, his cock lining up with your pussy. The tip rubbed your entrance, his ears catching your mewls of anticipation. He grinned at your noises, proud of the mess he had made of you.

With one swift thrust, he was buried deep in your pussy, his cock pulsing against your walls. Your nails dug into the stump, claw marks left in its wake. You waited for him to move, shaking every time you felt him twitch inside of you. When he remained motionless, you glanced back at him, seeing his intense stare at you.

“Do you want me to do all the hard work?” You grumbled at him, Shifting your ass against him. He groaned slightly, his hands gripping your waist. “Fine. Don’t answer me, you dick.”

You shifted your hips backwards, feeling his cock bottom out before leaning forward. Once the tip was nearly out, you bottomed him out again, repeating the same motions over and over again. His groans got louder, his grip tightening. He helped lead your motions, guiding you as you thrust against him.

“Kitten, as lovely as this is, I need to fuck you harder.” You barely had time to process his words before he began pounding you once more. His momentum was solid, never faltering in his ungodly speed. You moaned noisily, a knot forming in your abdomen.

He propped one foot on the stump, giving him a new angle to thrust at. His cock pressed into your walls, nudging your g-spot constantly. You were barely standing, your arms becoming weak. Your body was shaking, spasms rolling through your body, pleasure and desire coursing through your veins.

His hand collided with your ass, a loud slap filling the air. You screamed at the contact, a rush of bliss filling you. He laughed, his thrusts increasing. “Oh, you like that kitten? Keep those screams coming, baby.” He smacked your ass again and again, enjoying the sounds that were coming from your lips.

Your walls hugged around him, clinging to his cock. “Void, I’m going to cum.” He moaned in response, his thrusts becoming sloppier by the second. He grabbed your ass, his cock twitching against your walls. You shuddered against him, your breath coming out in short pants.

“Go ahead, kitten. Scream for me as you cum.” One final hard thrust sent you spiraling, black spots filling your vision. You let out the loudest moan possible, the only word slipping passed your lips being Void’s name. Your body quaked, your orgasm rocking your being. Your fluids flooded around his cock, soaking it completely. Void moaned, his cock sputtering against you. His seed spilled from his tip, mixing with your juices inside of you. You were a moaning mess, Void wrapping his arm around you and pulling you up against him. Your back pressed against his chest, Void hugging you close to him. His lips met yours in a sensual kiss, you both coming down from your highs.

Your legs were shaking when he let you go, sitting you down on the stump. He foraged for your clothes, dropping yours next to you so he could get dressed. He watched you slowly get dressed, licking his lips in delight. You finished slipping his shirt over your head, since yours was ruined, looking up at the dark eyes of the fox.

“So, my little dove, what do you say about wreaking chaos through Beacon Hills with me?”

You tipped your chin in thought, a smile upon your lips. “Well, seeing as your just fed a LOT of chaos off me while you fucked me, I don’t think you need me anymore. Plus,” you leaned back on the stump, your hands softly caressing the flat top, “this here Nemeton doesn’t want me to spread chaos here. It wants me to head east. Guess I’m needed elsewhere.” You crawled off the stump, staring at Void’s shocked expression. “Oh, don’t feel bad honey. I had a lot of fun with you. I definitely will have a hard time walking that way.”

You pat his cheek, heading the opposite direction of the town you knew was there. “Toodaloo, Void. Spread lots of chaos for me. When you’re done here, come find me and we can have some real fun.”

You disappeared into the trees, leaving Void alone. He rubbed his chin, grinning evilly. “That woman. She really is the Crawling Chaos. She is driving me mad already.” He turned on his heel, adjusting his still hard cock in his pants. “I’m still turned on by her too. Fuck.”