#heady pipes

[gardenofmymiind]

Found my old pieces in a moving box!! Time to cleannnnn

[wateryuanglass]

my shining glass happy day

[firelifeglass]

Pocket Amber Bubble Window Spoon I just made

https://firelifeglass.etsy.com/listing/1780768870

[legacyglass]

dope lil sherlock from MN glassblower JFell <3

[mountainsandmayhem]

Tess's Treasures

18+, MDNI

Pairing: Tess x Joel x OC!Female x Female!Reader Summary: After perfecting the art of pickpocketing, you’re invited to join Tess’s Treasures. They’re infamous around the QZ and the initiation process is not what you expect, but exactly what you need. CW: If you’re not into foursomes/bi girl shit then you are in the wrong place. MFFF, bisexual females, fingering, masturbating, oral, dirty talk, praise kink, degradation kink. Unprotected p in v. Overstim and squirting. Please read this at your discretion. If this isn’t for you, that’s perfectly fine. AN: You can thank @mermaidgirl30 and @littlevenicebitch69 for being good little girls and filling my mind with depraved and twisted thoughts. This fic has truly been a labour of love, taking me almost 6 weeks to put together and edit. I'm not the least bit sorry about the word count, grab a snack, probably some electrolytes and maybe some spare batteries lol. Special shoutouts to @pedritoferg for their kind words when my imposter syndrome had the best of me. As always, dividers and support banners by @saradika-graphics. Friendly reminder that I'm phasing out my tag list, follow @mountainsandmayhem-updates for new fics.

Word Count: 9005

Becoming one of Tess’s Treasures seemed like a fallacy, a pipe dream. A fairytale life only reserved for the most vicious females that prowl the shady streets of the Boston QZ, and you aren’t a killer. A thief, yes; but not a killer. Truthfully, you weren’t even sure if the organization existed. Sure, Tess was a real person, but did she actually have a horde of women she called her Treasures? 

She was infamous in the seedy underbelly of Boston, her and her henchman Joel. Granted, no one ever seemed to see Joel, unless he was about to kill you. And sometimes not even then, he was often hiding in the shadows, shadows darker than the demons that allegedly haunted him.

Outbreak day happened when you were just little, you don’t remember much of the journey from your old hometown to Boston. Everyone here is poor, doing what they can to get credits to buy basic human needs; making trades and swaps were what most people did. You, however, were much more clever. After discovering a book detailing the art of sleight of hand you started practicing, and now you can take anything, right in front of someone's eyes, without them noticing. 

Or so you thought. After stealing a pistol from a FEDRA officer and replacing it with a banana, all while having a conversation with him in broad daylight, Tess approaches you.

“Come to my apartment next week. I wanna see if you have what it takes. Mum’s the word.” It’s a hushed whisper as she passes you, slipping a small card in your back pocket as she goes. 

You follow the cards' instructions, arriving at the exact time, going up to the top floor and then doing two quick, sharp knocks on the worn out door.

“Enter,” Tess says from inside. The door creaks on your way in. It’s the hottest day Boston has seen in years, and even in your small sundress, the room is stifling hot. The air is thick with the smell of gunpowder and something else that you can’t quite put your finger on. There’s a fan oscillating in the corner, the paint chipped off the cage that protects the blades. As it blows warm air past you, you realize that the other smell is sex. 

Tess is sitting on the couch to the right of the door, two mismatched wooden kitchen chairs in front of her. Straight ahead from the door is a small kitchen, and to the back left of the studio style apartment is the bed. Unmade, sheets tousled like someone just woke up, but based on the heady taste of the air in the room, the messy sheets are definitely from two people rolling around in them.

“Come sit,” Tess says firmly. You click the door shut behind you and head to the empty chair that’s waiting for you. The other chair is occupied by a small brunette woman. She has long slender limbs and doesn’t look like someone who would hang out with raiders, poachers and drug runners. Her hands are folded in her lap, ankles crossed under the chair. She doesn’t look over at you.

Tess leans forward, spreading her denim clad legs wide and resting her elbows on her knees. “Do you two know who I am?”

You both nod slowly. Up close, Tess is terrifying. She could have you killed with just a snap of her fingers, and Joel would do it however she wanted. From what you’ve heard, very slowly was her favourite way to have people eliminated from this earth. Quick deaths weren’t something she enjoyed when someone had fucked her over. 

“Speak!” she commands. The brunette jumps and even though you’ve mastered the art of pushing your fears down and masking your emotions, a small butterfly flaps its wings behind your navel. 

“Yes,” you say hoarsely as a meek ‘yes ma’am’ sounds beside you.

“Good. So then you know the….perks of being one of my Treasures,” Tess’s eyes twinkle as she says perks like she knows something you don’t. Like it’s more than the better living arrangements, food and medical care. Better than a sense of family and belonging.

She continues, “I’ve seen both of you at work. You,” her steel grey eyes are laser focused on yours, “With your quick hands, and you,” she adjusts her attention to the petite woman beside you, “With your ability to talk a man into almost anything. Before you can officially call yourself my Treasures, there’s a small matter of your…” Her voice trails, mouth ticking up on one side as she cocks her head and drags her eyes across both of your bodies.

“Well, your initiation.” She leans back onto the couch, knees falling wider. One arm drapes across the back, the worn cushion deflating slightly. The other rests on her thick, toned thigh. “I take care of my girls, but they need to show me that they can listen.”

The air seems thicker, and harder to fill your lungs with. Every move of her eyes is suggestive. Is she saying what you think she’s saying? You feel yourself begin to soak through your panties at the possibility of getting to fuck.

You aren’t left wondering for long as she points a long finger at the girl beside you, “Stand up, take off your clothes.”

“W-what?” the girl sputters. 

“I said to stand up and take off your fucking clothes,” the words almost seem to burn as she repeats herself. 

The girl stands so quickly that the chair falls, making a loud crash against the worn hardwood flooring. She stares at Tess for a moment, unsure if she should pick up the chair before she decides against it and pulls her blue cotton baby tee off, revealing a lacy white bra underneath. 

“That’s it,” Tess groans. “Take off those little shorts next.”

With shaky hands she moves to the button fly, each drag of the metal on denim seems to echo in the silent room. Tess licks her lips as she slides her shorts down her legs and kicks them to the side. “Come here,” Tess says, her voice already husky and deep. The woman walks over to Tess, stopping between her spread legs. Tess’s strong fingers grip the girl's hips and she gasps. “Turn around,” she urges, dragging her fingers along her hips as the mystery girl spins.

“What’s your name?” Tess asks. The girl's bright green eyes land on you and you see her breath hitch in her slender throat. She’s petite, probably a few inches shorter than you and at least a foot shorter than Tess. You’ve always been attracted to both men and women and there’s no denying that this little stranger is absolutely stunning. 

“Lydia,” she croaks.

“Are you nervous, Lydia?” Tess asks, cupping the globes of her ass in her hands, kneading and squeezing. Spreading them gently, exploring what she’s about to claim as hers. 

She nods her head and lets out a shaky moan of agreement.

“Go pick up your chair and sit down, Lydia.” Tess swats her bum as she walks away and Lydia yelps quietly.

Tess’s eyes now come to you. Staring straight into your soul. I’m sure if she could, her eyes would incinerate your clothes right off of you. It’s intoxicating. You, unlike Lydia, are not nervous. Not in the slightest. If anything, Tess’s attention on you only makes you wetter. Your panties are practically soaked through already. “And you, my little thief. What’s your name?”

You say your name confidently and squeeze your thighs together, trying to ease some of the ache that Tess’s newfound attention is bringing to the apex of your thighs.

Tess whispers your name back at you and it sends a shiver down your spine. She continues, “Get on your hands and knees and crawl to me.”

Lydia swallows loudly beside you as you drop to the floor, crawling seductively to Tess, head held high. The worn hardwood planks creak under your weight. Even the floor is warm and sticky from the weather. You make it to her, sitting back on your heels like the good little girl you are. She leans forward and tugs on the hem of your dress and her syrupy voice says, “Arms up”. You lift your ass slightly and she slips your dress up and over your head. It was too hot for a bra today so you’re left in just a lacy pink thong.

“Mmmm, look at those pretty tits,” Tess hums, her fingers gliding along the plush soft skin of your breasts before ghosting over your nipples making the arm whoosh from your lungs. “You like that? Me touching your nipples.”

You breathe out a yes, eyes shutting as she pinches your pebbled buds roughly. “Oh god, yes.”

The old worn couch groans as Tess sits back, “Go take her bra and panties off.”

You climb to your feet and walk over to Lydia, holding out a hand and helping her stand. You move behind her and trail your fingers down the soft skin of her spinal column before popping the clasp of her bra. Lydia slides it off her body, arms crossing to block her now exposed breasts. Goosebumps rise across her from head to toe. You shush her and rub up and down her arms. Lydia relaxes under your touch and she drops her arms, Tess nods at you once, a silent encouragement to continue. You get down on your knees, hooking your index fingers in the waistband of her panties and sliding them down. Her round ass is in your face, she smells like fresh linen and rain. You fight the urge to kiss the sensitive little spot right where her ass crack starts.

“So fucking beautiful. Sit back down, Lydia.” Tess says and you want to cry out in protest. Her body is so enticing, soft and warm. She focuses back on you and says, “Stand in front of Lydia so she can take your panties off.”

You stand gracefully, biting your bottom lip as you maneuver yourself in front of Lydia. “Spread your legs,” you whisper, determined to help her so you can put on the best show for Tess. Lydia parts her knees and you twirl to face Tess, gathering your hair in one hand as Lydia slides your soaked panties down your legs. You kick them to the side and seductively drop your hair, smiling sweetly at Tess.

“Sit,” Tess barks. Lydia gasps behind you, but you like this; being told what to do. Commanded. Used. Tess continues after you sit, “I want you both to touch yourselves. Show me how you like it, but don’t come. You haven’t earned that yet. Understood?”

“Yes ma’am,” Lydia says, looking down at her hands. You nod eagerly, already sliding your ass to the edge of the chair and spreading your legs wide for her. Tess stares at your glistening core hungrily, leaning forward again to rest her muscular forearms on her knees. Her hair falls forward and frames her face. Her expression is hard, like you don’t want to disobey her in these moments. Brows are slightly knit together, lips in a thin line. She looks beautiful and dangerous, but as you bring your pointer and ring fingers to your entrance she softens a little, cocking her head to the side slightly. 

Lydia keeps her legs closed, slipping a finger down her slit and rubbing slowly from side to side. She whimpers silently beside you, glancing at you nervously. Your fingers easily slip inside of your soft, dripping hole. 

Tess’s eyes dance between the two of you. “Two very different girls,” she says to the room, neither of you stopping what you’re doing, both determined to become a part of her Treasures. “One of you seems shy, but I can work with that. Help you get out of your shell. And then there’s you,” her focus locks on you as she gets up with a grunt and saunters over to you. “You are a little whore, aren’t you? So eager to please.”

You feel yourself getting wetter at her attention and mean words. She pets your head lightly a few times, laughing quietly at how you lean into her touch, your eyes fluttering closed. Just as your lashes hit your cheeks she grabs a handful, pulls hard and gets within inches of your face. “You’re going to be a problem, aren’t ya?”

“No,” you gasp, your orgasm right on the precipice, so you slow your motions. “I’ll be good, Tess.”

“Did I say you could slow down?”

“I - I’m gonna come,” you whine. 

“No, you’re not. You just told me you’d be good. And good girls don’t come until they’re told.” She releases your hair and you suck in a breath. Tess’s presence is palpable, she seems to take up all the space and air in the apartment by just being here. “Do NOT come, that’s an order.”

Just as the last sentence leaves her mouth the door opens and the apartment gets smaller, like your whole existence is being put in a vacuum sealer. The deep chuckle that comes from whoever just entered makes your scalp prickle, but you keep your focus on Tess.

“What’re we doin’ here, Tess?” The voice is deep, with a slight southern accent highlighting an occasional word. It can only belong to one man, the only man allowed near Tess’s Treasures. Joel Miller. He’s feared and revered in the Boston QZ. Runs the drug trade that keeps both FEDRA and the seedy underbelly running. You’ve never seen him before, but you’ve heard stories.

“Recruits,” Tess says, walking over to Lydia, crouching in front of her. “This one is shy. The other one - well, I might need your help with her.”

Your clit feels like it’s zapped with electricity at her threatening promises and you moan loudly, pausing your fingers that have been plunging in and out of you as per Tess’s requests. “See,” she says flatly, hands massaging Lydia’s plush tanned thighs. 

You hear Joel’s heavy footsteps as he walks towards you, you can feel his heat and smell the tobacco coming off his skin. When he steps into your line of vision everything blurs. He’s beautiful and dangerous, but overall he’s the most incredible specimen you’ve ever seen. Your brain seems to go blank, like a hard reset, until all you see and smell and care about is Joel. You keep your eyes locked on his face, his brows crease, lips pressed tightly together. He plants his hands on his hips as his coffee and whiskey eyes slowly trail down your body. When he gets to your soaked and swollen pussy he licks his lips. “You gonna let her come?” He asks Tess but doesn’t take his eyes off you.

The fog clouding your brain clears and you glance towards Lydia and Tess. She has her legs spread and Tess is smiling encouragingly up at her, hand on top of hers, teaching her where to touch. 

“She can come when she’s earned it. Lydia’s earned it though. Haven’t you?” She nods at Lydia as she squirms in the wooden kitchen chair. “That’s it, show us.”

Lydia speeds the up and down motion of her hand sloppily, you can hear the wetness as her movements become more erratic. Joel’s eyes haven’t left you, still watching you fuck your fingers in and out of yourself, almost mesmerized by you. 

“Tess,” Lydia murmurs.

“Go ahead, baby. Come for me. Let me see that pretty little pussy twitch.” 

Lydia’s body starts to shake as she cries out, her hand slowing as she whines and moans, “Oh god. Oh god. Yesyesyes.”

You peel your eyes away from her and squeeze every muscle in your body as tightly as you can, holding on, not letting yourself come. Looking at Joel makes it nearly impossible not to tip over that very tantalizing edge, so you clamp your eyes shut. “Tess,” Joel says, his voice a baritone whisper. “You’re torturing this one, look at her.”

He’s right, she is torturing you; but, what Joel doesn’t know is that you love it. You love being denied just as much as you love being used. You love being pinned down or tied up. You love having your throat or pussy or ass fucked in any and all positions known to humankind. The world is a dark and horrible shit show, but sex? Ya, sex makes you feel alive. 

“Torturing her would be not letting her touch herself at all. She should be thanking me.” Tess turns her attention back to Lydia, helping her stand up and pulling her to the couch. “You did such a good job for me. You looked stunning as you fell apart.”

You open your eyes at the movement of them. They stop and stand facing each other in front of the couch as Tess removes her shirt, her breasts are small and perky with light pink nipples. Joel looks away from you, staring appreciatively at the woman he’s sworn to protect. She pops the button on her jeans. “Take them off her, Lydia. Tess shouldn’t have to work this hard,” Joel commands. 

You whimper at the timbre of Joel's voice when he’s giving instructions and his eyes whip back to you. “You like that, don’t you? Being told what to do.”

“Yes, oh god, please can I come Tess,” you cry, eyes still locked with Joels.

“Lydia is going to lick my pussy, Joel is going to move out of the way so I can see you, and when I say you can come I want you to be loud. I want to hear those slutty little moans. Got it?”

Joel doesn’t hesitate, stepping behind your chair. He must be leaning over you because you swear you can feel his breath on the shell of your ear. Tess sits on the couch and tugs at Lydia’s wrist gently, encouraging her to kneel in front of her. “Come on,” she whispers and then places her finger at the top of her pussy. “Just lick and kiss right here. You can do it.”

Lydia moves slowly, giving you a knowing glance over her shoulder as she gets into Tess’s desired position. You suddenly realize that she’s more clever than you initially thought. She’s not shy, she knows exactly what she’s doing. Tess likes to lead, so she acted like she needed the guidance. And now she’s come and you haven’t. Tess’s head falls back, jaw going slack as Lydia tastes her. 

“Does that turn you on?” Joel whispers, his warm breath hitting your neck. “Seeing Tess being eaten out. She deserves that every day, you know. She’s gonna take such good care of you, so you better care for her.”

“I will,” you mumble. “I’ll do whatever she needs. Whenever. Fuuuuck.”

“Look how wet you’re getting, I don’t think you can hold it for much longer.” He’s taunting you now. “Little thing loves to come, doesn’t she?”

“No, Tess gets to - oh god - she says when,” you’re squeezing as tight as you can, holding back the orgasm that’s right there, like a seesaw teetering, so close to tipping to the other side and slamming through you. 

Lydia slurps at Tess, you can hear her sucking at her clit as Tess moans and tangles her fingers into Lydia’s hair. “Yes, that’s it. Fuck, right there.”

You let out a breathy whine and Tess’s eyes come to you. “Ssshh, not yet. Oh shit, Lydia. So good.”

Joel laughs into your ear. “Just come, what’s the worst she’s going to do? Spank you? Let me fuck your throat? I bet you like being punished.”

You shake your head, trying to block out all the lewd mental images he’s creating. “No, Joel.” you huff, refocusing on holding it in, thinking of all the unsexy thoughts you can as you watch Tess, waiting for your time. 

Tess’s legs begin to shake, “get ready, baby. We are going to come together.” 

Your wrist begins to ache, it feels like you’ve been fucking yourself for hours. “I need to, please. You look so - “

She cuts you off, “Joel, take over for her. I’m gonna come.”

Joel practically leaps in front of you, grabbing your wrist and pulling your drenched fingers out while slipping his two thick fingers into your mouth. You bob up and down on his fingers still looking at Tess. Her eyes are glazed over, and a bead of sweat slides down the line of her toned stomach and lands in her belly button. 

“Now, Joel,” she whines and Joel wastes no time slamming his fingers inside of you. You cry out at the stretch, pleasure mixing with pain before he pumps his fingers forward. “Come right now,” Tess says. 

You look down at Joel, his thumb coming to caress your swollen bundle of nerves and you cry out, the room filled with your loud moans just like she wants. You hear both her and Joel encouraging you. Joel’s Texas twang washing over you,  “that’s it, fuckin clenchin. Fuck you’re so tight.”

Joel is relentless, curling and dragging his fingers in and out of you as you writhe in your chair. “Tess, oh god, yes.”

Joel's other hand slaps the inside of your thigh, “LOUDER!” he demands.

You squeal at the hot pain that splashes along your thigh, “hhnnngg, thank you. Fuck.” Your pleasurable moans turn into whines of pain as the overstimulation starts to seep in. You try to pull back and bring your knees together and Joel lets out a growl. He looks up at you dangerously and your stomach clenches. This is the wild, animalistic Joel Miller that everyone fears. 

You start to panic, he’s not stopping and you don’t know if you can take much more. You’re so wrapped in his onyx gaze and a mix of fear and arousal that you don’t notice Tess behind Joel until she speaks. Her voice is soft yet firm as she cards her fingers through his greying curls, “Joel, that’s enough.”

He blinks hard, seemingly coming out of some sort of trance, and then slips his fingers from you, strings of milky arousal coating his fingers. “Good boy,” she whispers. “Help her up, but you don’t get to touch either of them until I say so.”

He nods and then stands, helping you up. Lydia is lounging lazily on the couch, her face still glistening with Tess’s juices. Your knees shake underneath you and Joel wraps an arm around your waist. You’ve had plenty of orgasms in your life, but never one that deep and strong. Your pussy is aching and you just want to sleep.

Tess sits on the chair that Lydia was on and spreads her legs slightly. “Lydia,” she crooks her fingers at her, calling her over. “Turn around, pretty girl. Straddle my thigh.”

Lydia follows Tess’s instructions, that fake nervous pout of her lips on display for Joel. Clever, very clever, you think through heavy eyelids. 

“Joel, help her on the other thigh and bring that chair.” Joel guides and steadies you as you sit on Tess’s thigh, then places the extra chair in front of the three of you. “Use the chair for balance,” Tess instructs, her hand running up and down your spine gently. 

You both lean forward, your sweaty palms slipping slightly against the wooden chair. You both gasp quietly as your swollen clits press into her muscular thigh, as she caresses your backs and hips. Joel sits on the couch across from you, one arm draped across the back and his legs spread. He watches you intently, eyes blown out and curls sticking to his forehead. It’s not lost on you that he hasn’t focused much attention on the other girl. You look over at Lydia and she’s smiling flirtatiously at you. Your faces are just inches apart and she nudges at your nose with hers.

“Ladies,” Tess starts, “this is the part where you show Joel what you can do. He’s going to kill people for you, and when he does, you need to repay him.”

You graze your lips against Lydias, her skin tastes like peaches and Tess’s cunt. 

“Pretend my thigh is Joel's cock, show him how you’ll ride him.”

You flick your attention back to Joel, and his expression shifts from hard to a tortured need. You rake your eyes down his strong chest, still concealed by that fucking denim button up that you want to rip off with your teeth. He’s dangerous and could easily snap your neck with two fingers, but fuck, if that doesn’t make you want him more. Lydia presses her lips to your throat and you start to grind back and forth on Tess’s thigh. 

You continue to take in Joel’s body, stopping when you get to his lap. Your eyes widen at the distinct outline of his hard cock pressing behind the zipper of his jeans. Your bottom lip slips between your teeth as you lock eyes with him again. His coffee coloured irises are almost onyx as he shifts in his seat. He wants you - just as much as you want him, and you just hope that you can break him enough so Tess lets him have you. 

Tess’s strong hand travels up the smooth skin of your back, tangling her hands in the hair at the nape of your neck. “Tell Joel how good it feels, baby. Lydia, keep kissing her.”

Lydia’s lips suck at your skin. “Mmm, fuck Joel. Feels s’good. Wish it was your big cock filling me up, sliding in and out of my tight, wet pussy.” Tess tugs at your hair to open your neck more for Lydia and you yelp.

“Keep talking, baby girl,” Joel says, his hand moving to palm himself over his jeans. “Tell me what you want.”

You grind harder into Tess’s thigh, between the sting in your scalp from her hand, Lydia’s soft lips on your neck, and Joel’s intense stare, it almost becomes hard to breathe. Every bit of their attention is on you.

“I-I want you to, mmmm, to pin me down,” you take in a shaky breath, never taking your eyes off him. “To f-fuck me…from behind. Want you to f-fill, oh god, fill me.”

Joel pops the button of his jeans, reaching down his pants to grip himself through his tight grey boxers. You continue breathily, “Wanna feel you spank me. Slam inside of me. Dominate me.”

“Good girl,” Tess says, releasing her grip on your hair and pulling Lydia off your neck, before pressing in between your shoulder blades until you’re flush with her thigh. You crane your neck to keep your eyes on Joel, looking at him through the wooden slats of the back of the chair in front of you. “Your turn, Lydia. Tell Joel what you want.”

She clears her throat before beginning, “If he killed for me, I wouldn’t make him do any work. I’d lay him down, lick and kiss every inch of him before sliding him in my mouth. Taking him deep, cradling his balls with my hand. I’d swallow every drop.”

Joel lets out a noncommittal grunt, almost like a secret language between him and Tess. Joel leans forward and removes his denim button up and t-shirt in one swoop. His tanned and toned chest makes your mouth water. His chiselled pecs and soft belly have trimmed salt and pepper hair dusted across them, he toes off his shoes and then lifts his hip, sliding his jeans down his legs. His skin glistens with sweat and you want to lick it all off of him, drink up his salt and musk, his innate Joel-ness. 

“Come here, Joel.” She says. 

“Sit up,” she says softly to you. Joel stalks forward like he’s about to claim what’s his and your pussy clenches around nothing in hopes that it’s you.

“Ride my thighs, girls. Whoever cums first, Joel gets to fuck.” You spit into your hand and reach between your legs, gently spreading your lips and coating yourself in saliva.

A deep, “holy fuck” leaves Joel's lips at the sight of you. Yes, he definitely wants you just as much as you want him. You move your hands from the chair to Tess’s knee and grind your hips in small, slow circles. Your arms push your tits together for Joel. Beside you, Lydia stops moving. She sits as still as a statue, looking over her shoulder seductively at Tess. A loud slap fills the room, followed by a lust filled moan that you didn't think Lydia was capable of. 

“Tess,” she says, all airy and breathy. Her tone feels sweet on your skin. “I don’t like sleeping with men.” 

You keep grinding, your focus on Joel. He’s so close that you could reach out and grab one of his muscular forearms. You’re going to fuck him. You want to fuck him. Any way he wants. Any hole he wants. None of it matters, you just want to feel him, smell him, taste him. 

Tess lets out an impressed sigh. “You’re even more amazing than I thought, Lydia. Had me telling you how to lick a pussy, how to touch yourself. But you already know. Don’t you?” She slaps Lydia’s ass again and the loud noise even has you clenching. Fuck, you want Joel to spank you. Or Tess. Even Lydia at this point. 

It’s wrong. And taboo. But who can say what’s right or wrong in this new world anymore? 

“You are going to have to do things for Joel, little temptress. It’s part of the deal.” You see Tess’s hands come to Lydia’s hips, encouraging her to grind at the same pace you’ve set. “So ride me. Let me feel that slick little pussy, let me feel it quiver on my thigh.” 

Things are quiet for a moment, just the squelching sounds of both your cunts gliding along her smooth thigh. You lean into Lydia, desperate for more. More what, you aren’t sure. Just more.

She responds to your touch, her nose brushing your cheek before you turn into her and kiss her deeply. Slanting your head to taste her tongue against yours. She’s sweet, like strawberry jam. Lips so soft they almost don’t feel real. Her teeth clamp onto your bottom lip and you cry out. The perfect amount of pain to increase the pleasure between your legs. When she lets go you’re panting. 

“She’s close, Tess,” Joel murmurs like he knows your body so well, but he’s not wrong. He continues speaking casually to Tess as if you aren’t in the same room. “Do I really get to fuck her if she cums first?” 

You grind down harder, kissing Lydia again. You love them talking about you as if you aren’t here. Making the decisions for you. 

“As soon as she cums, you take her to the bed.” Tess’s strong hand lays a sharp slap on the meaty globe of your ass and you crumble. 

“YES!” You scream, convulsing as the pleasure courses through you. You look up at Joel through your lashes, jaw slack, voice weak and desperate. “Joel. Please. Please.” 

He drops his boxers and his thick cock spring free. Slapping against his belly. The tip is smooth and leaking, he’s bigger than you thought and somehow your throat dries out as your cheeks fill with saliva. As you come down from your second orgasm you realize that you can do this. You are going to do whatever Tess says and become one of her Treasures. 

“Think you can take him?” Tess hums as Lydia falls apart beside you, moaning sweetly. Tess adds, “Good girl, Lydia. So perfect when you cum.”  

You decide to take a page out of Lydia's book and act innocent. “N-no,” you stammer. “It’s…I don’t…it’s too big.” 

Joel snorts, “You’re not a very good liar my little slut.” 

Before you can respond he’s lifted you up and over his broad shoulder. His skin is warm against your belly. You giggle mischievously as his hands dig into the plush skin on the back of your thighs. He can so easily overpower you, so easily destroy you - mentally and physically. And you’d let him, and to make it worse, you’d thank him afterwards and probably ask him to do it again. 

He drops you on the bed. “Don’t move.” 

You nod and swallow the dry lump in your throat. You definitely want this, even if you shouldn’t. Even if that logical voice inside your head is screaming at you to put up the wall, block him out like you do with everyone else. But the infinitesimal hint of softness in his face that can only be seen by the two of you keeps you sucked in. He won’t hurt you, no. Something in his eyes gives him away, he wants to please you with those hands that have brought pain and torture to so many others. 

He walks back over to Tess and Lydia who are completely entranced with one another. Lydia is now sitting fully in Tess’s lap. Her back pressed to Tess’s front, both her legs draped over Tess’s as she pressed kisses along the tops of one of her shoulders and rubs her fingers gently from her pussy up to Lydia’s. Joel kneels in front of them, both of their legs spread, wet pussy’s glistening and on display for him. The sight of Joel Miller on his knees does something unexplainable to you. He’s so goddamn delicious. 

He looks over at you again, that softness still coaxing you deeper into his web, tangling around you, claiming you. His large hands cup Tess’s inner thighs and then he dives into both their pussy’s. Jealousy swirls in your stomach as he draws a sloppy wet line from Tess’s entrance to her clit, then up to Lydia in the same manner. 

“Oh, fuck Joel,” Tess cries as Lydia whimpers.

“Too much, baby?” he says gruffly to Lydia who nods before burying her face into the crook of Tess’s neck. “Little more, m’kay?”

He licks at them again, Tess’s moan ending as Lydia’s starts. Joel doesn’t stop. He uses long languid and lazy strokes of his tongue as he eats at both of them.

“J-Jo - fuuuck Joel!” Tess murmurs, her head falling back and mouth falling open in a silent scream. She wraps her arms tightly around Lydia as her legs start to tremble. Joel’s deltoids and biceps flex as he pushes to keep her thighs apart.

“Fuck, Tess.” Lydia purrs, “You look so goddamn hot when you cum. Suck on her clit, Joel. Make our girl squeal.” You can hear him slurp her swollen and twitching nub into his mouth. As it slips along his soft and puffy lips her pained sounding moans start to become mumbles of pleasure. Joel works her through her orgasm, not stopping until he knows she's good and sated.  

Lydia reaches back, twisting to kiss Tess deeply and then whispers into her lips. Whatever she says gets Joel's attention and he releases her clit with a pop before looking up at the two women. You haven’t moved from where Joel left you, as fun as being a brat is, he could probably dish out a punishment so intense that even you would break and use whatever safe word he gave you. Lydia whispers more, Joel smirks at whatever she’s saying and then the three of them all slowly turn to look over at you.

Fuck

Joel stands, his hands coming to the outsides of Tess’s knees and guiding her as she closes her legs, then he gives a hand to Lydia to help her stand before repeating the same with Tess. He stands tall and broad, completely naked and fully erect between these two powerhouse women, linking his fingers with Tess and smiling over at her. She gives him a little nod and your stomach flips as your pussy clenches.

This is it, you think.

“Little slut,” he says deeply, “‘M’gonna fuck you now, while they hold you down. Understood?”

You try to say yes, but just air seems to leave your lungs. Tess and Lydia climb along each side of you, hooking their arm under your leg and pulling back to open you for Joel. Your arms are trapped under their bodies as they lay beside you.  You’re pinned and exposed; fully at Joel, Tess and Lydia’s mercy. 

The bed dips as Joel settles between your thighs, his large body looms over you, resting himself on one forearm beside your head, his other hand wrapped around his cock, running it up and down your folds.

“So wet for me. So soft,” he presses the fat tip of his cock at your entrance and you gasp. “Shit! S’tight too, baby girl.”

Tess and Lydia nuzzle into you, lightly dragging their noses along your neck and jawline. “J-Joel, fuck me. Pleaseplease. Fuck me”

Joel presses his hips forwards, and the thick, smooth mushroom head of his cock pushes at your weeping cunt again. “Look at me, little slut,” he rasps. You don’t hesitate, look at him with big innocent eyes, biting your lower lip. He spits into his palm and then coats his throbbing dick with it, fisting himself up and down. He raises an eyebrow at you cockily, “Say it again.”

“Fuck me, fuck me, please!”

Without warning Joel slams into you, stretching you painfully and your body jolts. You try to slam your knees together but the naked women on each side of you keep you spread open widely for Joel. “Shit baby,” he says through gritted teeth as his body folds over yours, his hands caging all three of you in. Tess nips at your neck, while Lydia sucks at your earlobe after whispering, “Relax, little slut, we all got you.”

Your lungs slowly come back to you. You take a deep, full breath in, and it feels like you haven’t taken a proper breath since seeing Joel for the first time. As you exhale you’re completely surrounded by Joel Miller. His large body is all you can see and feel. Meanwhile, all you can taste and smell is his tobacco scent and the salt of the sweat that coats his tanned skin. You’re addicted, you want to be able to inject him right into your veins. Your pussy relaxes around him and the pain ebbs into pleasure, and you need more.

“More, please more,” you murmur into his neck.

“There she is,” Tess whispers in your ear and you whimper.

“Say it again,” Joel commands.

“Fuck me, Joel,” you cry. “Please, fuck me. Make me your little slut for real.”

Lydia giggles seductively in your ear, pulling you into her tighter.

“Open her all the way for me,” he says to the other two. “S’too tight for me.”

He sits himself up and your knees are pulled open and back. Joel keeps his eyes locked on yours as he tilts his chin a bit and splits on your already soaked pussy. His veiny hands come to the back of your thighs, squeezing and massaging at your sensitive skin.

“Think I should fuck her, Lydia?” He starts, and soon they’re talking about you again as if you aren’t even there, the slick walls of your cunt fluttering as they speak.

“She's been good, hasn’t she?” Lydia says in a syrupy aroused tone.

“No she hasn’t,” Tess says between kisses along your jawline. “She’s a thief. She’s a bad girl.”

Joel slaps the inside of one of your thighs, with just enough of a flick in his wrist that it immediately sends a zap of pleasure toward your clit. Lydia feels you relax more into her grips, “She likes it when you hit her, Joel”.

“Of course she does,” Tess moans. “She’s a little slut.” She hits the t at the end of the word hard and Joel slaps you again. Right in the same spot, precision that you’ve never known before from a man who kills without being seen. 

“Should feel how tight she is, maybe she had us fooled,” Joel says, eyes shifting between the two women, wholly avoiding your gaze. You’re so desperate for his attention, and the humiliation of him not returning it arouses you so much more than it should.

“What’d’ya mean, baby boy?” Tess asks, her warm breath hitting your neck, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

“Like a virgin, squeezin’ me like a vice.”

“She’s shakin,” Lydia adds. “Poor girl.”

“You two don’t stop kissing her while I do this,” they both nod and he flips his attention back to you. “I wanna hear you screamin’. Got it, little slut?”

You shudder under his intense stare. “Yes, yes, Joel. Please, just fuck me. Pleeease!”

He pulls halfway out and then slams back in, his heavy balls slap at your taint and asshole, your needy high pitched moans filling the room. Your whole body constricts around Joel and as it relaxes it feels like heaven. No one has made your body feel like this. “That feel good?” Joel says tauntingly, his hands gripping into the back of your thighs.

“Please - fuck, yes. More,” you mumble, almost incoherently. 

“Show our girl, Joel. Show her what he can have once she’s my Treasure.” Tess commands.

What’s that saying, ‘You say jump, I say how high’? Well, when Tess says jump, Joel is already mid jump, doing it exactly how Tess wants it. He’s already dragging his cock out slowly, all the way to the tip, before slamming fast and hard back into you.

“Harder,” Tess growls, biting your neck as Joel repeats the motion. Lydia squirms against you, her soft warm skin slipping along the thin sparkling layer of sweat that coats your body. “Look at her. Pliant, soft. Letting Joel do whatever he wants.”

“That’s cuz she’s a good girl,” Lydia moans, kissing the sensitive skin under your earlobe. 

Joel brings one of his hands to cup your chin, his thumb running around your bottom lip softly. “Gotta relax for me, little slut.”

You take a breath and as you exhale you can feel the grip your pussy has on his thick cock loosen. “That’s it. That’s my girl.”

“Good job, baby girl,” Tess whispers, kissing at your throat again. 

“Fuck her now, Joel.” Lydia says, “We got her.”

Joel sets a quick pace, slamming in and out of you. His name and a string of swears leaving your lips with every thrust, just the screams of your pleasure and the squelching of your pussy filling the room. Tess and Lydia whisper praises as Joel is possessed by your cunt. Pounding and pounding into you without pause. Over and over, he’s relentless. A man possessed. You can’t help but wonder if he’s like this with all other women or if this is just for you. His hand falls from your chin, landing beside Tess’s head on the mattress, the other still gripped to your thigh. His short nails dig into your skin, leaving you marked with signs of him. 

“That’s it,” Lydia hums. “Taking it like such a good girl.”

Tess’s teeth lightly scrape at your jawline. “Come on, baby. I wanna see you come again.”

“So fuckin’ pretty when you come,” Joel says each word at the end of his harsh thrusts. His voice is gravelly and deep. Seeping under your skin and into your DNA, the very fabric of your being. You belong to him, no questions asked.

“M-more. I - more - please.” You aren’t sure what you mean by more, but Joel seems to know your body better than you as he sits himself back up and brings his thumb to your clit, teasing it gently and you writhe under him. It’s almost too much but you need it, and even more, you need Joel not to stop.

He hammers into you again, slower this time, but still with an intense flick of his hips at the end. The leaking tip of his cock pressing against the perfect spongy part behind your clit.

“Can see you in her stomach, Cowboy.” Tess moans. Both the women feather long, lingering kisses along your neck. The juxtaposition of their soft actions and the bruising dance of Joel’s hip is just as confusing as it is arousing. 

“Rub her clit a little harder, Joel. I think she’s getting close.” You clench around him at Lydia’s words and cry out loudly. 

He swirls his thumb easily along your lubricated clit, the mixture of both of your arousals and his spit making it slippery. “Ohgod, hnnnnggg, J-Joel pleasepleaseplease.”

“Sssshhh, baby,” he soothes, pausing with his hips pushed flush to your ass. “Gotta relax, remember?”

You whimper in agreement, nodding your head as you try to slow your breathing and your heart rate. “There she goes,” Joel moans as your pussy walls flutter and then relax.

He starts to fuck you slowly, circling your swollen velvety nub with the rough pad of his thumb. His other hand leaves your thigh, massaging your breast, pinching at the nipple with his thumb and forefinger. “Fuck, you feel so good. So tight. Gonna fill you one day.”

“Today, please!” you protest through a salacious moan.

“Tell her,” he says to the women holding you in their arms, speeding up the circles of his thumb.

“Lydia,” Tess whispers, like it’s a secret just for the three of you, “Tell her your plan.”

You’re lost in a daze as Lydia says your name into your skin. When you don’t respond she nips gently at you and says, “Baby? You with me?”

“Y-yes. Fuuuuuuck,” you say wantonly.

“Joel is gonna make you cum, then pull out and cum all over our faces. After, we are going to lick it all off each other.” She says it with a hint of mischief and lust in her voice.

The three of them praise and encourage you as Joel keeps fucking you and rubbing your clit at the same time. You have no idea how long you’ve been in this apartment, how long you’ve been floating on a vibrating fluffy cloud of pleasure and craving. Whispers of “Good girl”, “so pretty”, and “fuck listen to how wet you are” travel through you.  

The electric currents of pleasure that sizzle along your skin all come to the base of your spine. Pressure building, so very close to exploding around all of you. “Come on, little slut. Let go for me.”

Lydia and Tess say ‘Come on’ and ‘relax into it’ at the same time.

“Shit, J-Joel,” you whimper. A tear runs down your cheek.

“I know, I’m here,” he says, voice slightly softer than earlier. “I know.”

The pressure becomes unbearable and then everything snaps. Your pussy flutters as the pleasure starts to consume every single inch of your being. Your vision blurs, every muscle going lax as you twitch unconsciously underneath him. 

“Good girl. Yes, that’s my good little slutty girl,” he growls. Your orgasm continues to tear through you, ripping you in half and you know when you come down only Joel will be able to stitch you back up again. 

Joel presses his large palm to your mound, and just as you feel yourself start to come down you’re on the precipice of another orgasm. “Got another one for me, baby?”

“Yesyesyes - yeeesss,” you’ve forgotten words, you’re just a bundle of pleasure. No muscles or bones or thoughts of your own. Just a pliant body, that’s fully under the control of Joel Miller. 

Your second orgasm hits you hard, tearing anything you had left in half. “She’s gonna squirt,” Joel mumbles.

“Just let it go,” Lydia whispers, suckling on your earlobe. 

You push into the feeling, letting it overtake you as liquid gushes from your cunt, coating Joel's pelvis and pooling on the bed below you. It splashes as Joel keeps up his pace. You scream out in pleasure. Lydia and Tess talking you through it quietly, “Good girl. Stay relaxed for me,” Tess says as Lydia adds, “Let it take you, we’re right here.”

The pleasure starts to ebb, it’s becoming too much as Tess whispers, “Breathe, baby girl. Just breathe.”

“Can’t, Tess.” you whimper, turning your face towards her. “Please,” you plead. If you learned anything from earlier, it’s that only Tess can make him stop. 

“Ok, baby, you’re ok,” she hums. She looks up at Joel above all of you and drops her voice, “That’s enough now, Joel.”

Joel pulls away from your clit and you sigh in relief, both his hands coming to your breasts, squeezing them roughly as his thrusts become sloppy. “Get ready,” he huffs through gritted teeth. Both Tess and Lydia scoot up so their faces are pressed against yours.

Joel slips out of you with a lewd pop and practically bends you in half to get over your faces. “Open your mouths and look at me,” he commands. The three of you obey, anything for the man who is going to kill for you or defend you to the very end if need be. 

His hand is tight around his cock, pumping himself quickly, the cords of muscle and veins along his forearm start to pop. His balls are full and heavy, tight against his body as he edges closer to his release. You stare at him, soaking in how wrecked he looks as he gets closer. His brows pinch together, onyx and whiskey flecked eyes looking only at you before his face goes lax and he lets out a deep, loud moan. Warm ropes of opaque white cum paint your faces.

As soon as he’s done he pulls away, Tess and Lydia letting go of your legs as the three of you kiss and lick at each other's sticky faces. Joel tastes better than you could have imagined, a heady mix of saltiness that leaves you insatiable for more.

Joel sits back on his heels watching the three of you slurp him up. He has a proud smirk on his face and when your eyes find his he winks at you before getting up and grabbing a towel off the top of the small dresser near the bed. Tess says something hushed to Lydia as you and Joel look at one another. Lydia pressed a kiss to your cheek before getting off the bed and following Tess into another room, the unmistakable sound of the shower alerting you to where they’ve gone.

Joel climbs beside you, looking down at you hesitantly. “You ok?” he whispers.

“Ya,” you sign sleepily. “I’m ok, Joel.”

He brings the towel to your thighs, soaking up your arousal. “I didn’t hurt ya?”

The towel ghosts along your swollen folds and you gasp, turning your head into Joel’s strong upper body. “I know, sorry.” He hisses, hating that he’s causing you discomfort. “But I gotta clean you up.”

He dabs gently with the soft towel causing an aftershock that shakes through your body and you feel yourself squirt again. Not nearly as much this time but a euphoric moan leaves your lips. Joel tucks the towel between your legs and guides your face up to meet his. His brown eyes burn themselves into your soul, “do you need more, baby? Just tell me.”

“It’s sensitive,” you whine.

He lifts an eyebrow slightly, “does it hurt?”

You stick your bottom lip out and nod sadly.

“Need me to kiss it?” he asks gently, his hooked nose rubbing against yours. 

You look at him hesitantly. Of course, you want Joel’s plush lips on your pussy, but a flap of a butterfly wing could probably cause you to implode at this point. 

“You can say another time,” he whispers, lips hovering over yours. He doesn’t know where this side of him has come from. Joel Miller is a simple man. Murder who Tess says, fuck any one of her Treasures that offer to get the adrenaline out afterwards, then leave them in their apartment pumped full of his cum. He usually can’t wait to rush back to his apartment to take a shower and shoot back a mix of whiskey and sleeping pills. But with you, he feels the need to care for you afterwards, and he has a strong feeling that you’re going to be a very large distraction in his life from now on. 

I’m fucked, he thinks to himself.

You lean forward to sponge your lips against his. He kisses you sweetly, pulling you in tighter as you hum contently into his lips.

“I don’t think I can tonight,” you say softly after breaking the kiss. 

“That’s ok, little slut.” He rolls onto his back, pulling you with him so you’re resting on top of him. Legs straddling his hips and your head resting on his chest. You shiver against him, tucking your arms into your body. His hands scramble for the blanket, wrapping it around the two of you, kissing the top of your head. “Tomorrow, after Tess officially makes you her Treasure, that will be your gift from me.”

You nod into his chest, he smells like gunpowder, fresh sawdust and sweat as your eyelids become heavy and the world seems to slip away. You have trouble sleeping normally, I mean who wouldn’t in this fucked up new world you’re all in, but with Joel, it happens almost too easily. Sleep just takes you to a deep and uninterrupted place for who knows how long. But when you wake you’re in a large grey t-shirt in a small bedroom, not the same one you fell asleep in. You hear the peaceful and melodic breathing of someone beside you. You move slowly, peeling open your eyes to see Joel sleeping beside you. The moonlight dances softly along his face, grey hairs glinting in the light. He looks so peaceful, nothing like the man that was crazed by your pussy early. He’s still visibly dangerous, but fuck is he beautiful. 

I’m fucked, you think to yourself.

Tag list:

@corazondebeskar @hiddenbabynyc @rainstorms-library @smutsmutslut @sullyrocky44 

@keylimebeag @pimosworld @casa-boiardi @pedritoferg @paleidiot

@lorilane33 @pansexual-potatoes @jessthebaker @jasminedragoon @koshkaj-blog

@pedroswife69 @strawberri-blonde  @none-of-this-makes-any-sense @iloveenya

@javierpena-inatacvest @blazeflays @akah565 @pinkiec6-rubi @pedroshotwifey

@iluvurfather @ashleyfilm @mermaidgirl30 @untamedheart81 @littlevenicebitch69

[magicpaint]

TWST Indie Perfume Recs

While browsing, I've noticed a lot of fragrances reminding me of TWST characters. All characters have five fragrances, while each dorm is given one general fragrance. 22 named students of NRC, Ramshackle, the staff, RSA, Book 7 characters, and event characters have been included.

Fragrance notes are taken from their respective websites.

Heartslabyul —

Alice (Crow & Pebble) — Bakewell tarts and black tea, white roses painted red, a distant whiff of black pepper and orange marmalade.

Riddle Rosehearts

High Tea (Possets) — A very true to tea blend. Infused with lemon, sugar, milk, and that indescribable scent of the best starched linens.

Rosewater Lemonade (Hexennacht) — Tart, sweet lemonade infused with fresh, heady rose petals.

Dormouse (Wild Hybrid) — Tea-soaked fur, caramel cakes with a thin smear of butter, toast crumbs and pink pepper

Last Breath (Deep Midnight) — A sweet goodbye as an organ pipes a haunting hymn. Main notes of red roses, lily of the valley, and white tea waft in as the lid closes…

Jabberwocky (Pierrot Perfumery) — An interesting blend of labdanum resin, charred oak, amber musk, and blood.

Ace Trappola

Cherry Fizzy (Death & Floral) — Classic dark cherry soda with small hints of cocoa beans and strong carbonation

The Red Hare (Stone & Wit) — Fresh ginger, fig preserves, cherry, almonds, suede

Black Cherry Bomb (Death & Floral) — Melted black cherry popsicle juice, ginger ale cream soda, salty and hot summer skin, honeydew, golden caramelized amber

Sucker Punch (Sugar & Spite) — Red, shiny lollies, lemon hard candies, and fluffy pink cotton candy

Knave of Hearts (BPAL) — Crushed roses and blackcurrant tarts.

Deuce Spade

0 The Fool (Wild Hybrid) — The dust of a road travelled, davana, tea rose, sunflower, honey myrtle, pink pepper, rhododendron leaf, angel's trumpet, orange and crystalline musk.

Misspent Youth (Death & Floral) — Iced cold root beer, the glowing hum of a 7-11 parking lot, peppered vanilla, blood orange & ginger candy, fuzzy grey amber

White Rabbit (Siren Song Elixirs) — White musk, Coconut, Narcissus flower, Lime verbena, Amber, Double Vanilla

Clowning Around (Luvmilk) — Fresh, buttered, caramel popcorn, salty peanuts, tufts of blue cotton candy, and taffy apples.

Storm Chaser (Fyrinnae) — Misty, salty onshore winds, wet sand and soil, storm surge, broken branches, and gasoline.

Trey Clover

Violet Pound Cake (CocoaPink) — Fresh baked pound cake squares sprinkled with wild candied violet petals then softly dusted with confectioners’ sugar.

Flourite (Hexennacht) — lavender, chamomile, lemon balm, spearmint, a faint wafting of violets.

Coco Violette (Deep Midnight) — Reminiscent of old fashioned violet candies and sweet childhood memories. Old fashioned violet, milk chocolate, and a hint of creamy vanilla.

Dead of Night (Lovesick Witchery) — Notes of lavender, white pepper, dryer sheets, detergent, warm cotton, and vanilla musk.

Lab Partner (Nui Cobalt) — Unripe mandarin, chilly grey cashmere, green peppercorn, flushed skin, and toasted oats.

Cater Diamond

Raining Diamonds (Nui Cobalt) — A glistening air of wonder and enchantment. Chilled white grapefruit, ambrette seed, stellar musk, forget-me-not blossom, sheer vanilla, and honeyed almond.

Tell It to the Moon (Death & Floral) — Precious woods, cashmere vanilla, resin, spice, and a swirl of bright mandarin.

The Aquarius (Lovesick Witchery) — Notes of pear, ginger, nutmeg, salty popcorn, tart lime, sugared citrus, sea salt, lotus, calendula, and cedarwood.

Festival Nights (Luvmilk) — Melon kakigori, dango drizzled with mizuame, wataame, and fireworks in the distance.

Everything Is More Beautiful Because We Are Doomed (Death & Floral) — Rich gourmet vanilla blended with benzoin and black woodsmoke

Savanaclaw —

Dantalion (Fantome) — Creamy chai tea, obscuring mists, sandalwood, a plaster mask, clarifying ginger, carnations, dandelions, & a melted beeswax candle.

Leona Kingscholar

Afterglow (Alkemia) — A softly glowing veil of golden musk, Madagascar vanilla beans, woodsmoked black amber, chai tea, spiced rum, and incense woods.

Lion (BPAL) — The dry, glorious warmth of the Savannah. A golden, spiced amber, proud, regal and ferocious.

Untamable (Imaginary Authors) — Leather Saddle, Tonka Resin, Saguaro Blossom, Texas Yellowstar, Cumin, Tumbleweed, Paso Fino

Badlands (Solstice Scents) — Dry woods, worn leather, dusty fossils, sandalwood, palo santo, hot resins, juniper wood, ponderosa pine cone, parched grasses and desert plants, oud, spices.

Villain Origin Story (Nui Cobalt) — Jaded by the world’s ills, a heart is ignited not by hope, but by fury. Sinister patchouli, spiced mulberry wine, smoldering musk, deep mahogany, and a sliver of peach skin.

Jack Howl

White Fir (Pineward) — orange, ginger, white fir, clove, anise, pine, musk, vetiver, oakmoss.

Turquoise (Hexennacht) — Wild blueberry, white amber, prickly pear, apricot, artemisia, green tea, honey sage, ghost flower, lemon verbena, lavender, lemon balm, cactus flower, dry grass.

Bitter Cold (Lovesick Witchery) — Notes of freezing air, cedarwood, balsam fir, pine needles, and a delicate touch of mint.

Werewolf (Lovesick Witchery) — Notes of patchouli, black spruce, juniper, amyris resin, rosemary, clove, and clary sage.

The Cactus Where Your Heart Once Was (Death & Floral) — Prickly pear cactus accord and orange flower absolute

Ruggie Bucchi

First Dandelion (Alkemia) — A bright meadow of sunny dandelion flowers, green dandelion leaves, and warm dirt.

Laundromat (Hexennacht) — Laundry soap, fabric softener, ozone, and coin-op washing machines.

Maplemallow Doughnut (Hexennacht) — Fresh doughnuts, topped with sticky maple frosting, and tooth-achingly sweet marshmallow fluff.

Laundry Day (Cirrus Parfum) — Clean white laundry musk, lavender, vanilla, earl grey tea, and New Caledonia sandalwood

Blood and Donuts (Deep Midnight) — Dark Egyptian amber and gaharu wood, well blended and served with creamy vanilla, cinnamon spice, rich chocolate, and a splash of turkish coffee. It's.... to die for.

Octavinelle —

Black Pearl (Wild Hybrid) — The scent of deep sea life and vanilla

Azul Ashengrotto

Voice of the Sea (Alkemia) — An olfactory musing from the underside of a wooden dock—salinaceous seabreezes, sun bleached driftwood, crushed seashells, a twist of Meyers lemon peel, barnacles, mineralistic sand, and seasoaked timbers.

Breakwater (Wylde Ivy) — Mist soaked and sun scorched basalt, bergamot, dried black tea leaves, and white sandalwood

Small Comforts (Stone & Wit) — Black tea, tamarind, clove, anise, cinnamon, white musks

Poison Pen (Death & Floral) — Black musk, mahogany wood, balsam accord, old paper, ink, red sandalwood, ylang, lapsang souchong, and a tiny touch of cinnamon bark

With the Fishes and the Dead (Death & Floral) — Black squid ink and mile long oceans. Black ambergris, black labdanum absolute, salty ocean water, and black pits of stretched out emptiness.

Jade Leech

Koschei the Deathless (Fantome) — Forest mushrooms, turmeric, myrrh, treemoss, dry bones, sea kelp, dark patchouli, creamy ylang.

Ghost Whale (Crow & Pebble) — Stormy sea air, clary sage, black pepper, jasmine green tea, ambergris, cedar and agarwood.

FROGS! (Death & Floral) — Grounding and warm woods, Virginia cedar, cold-pressed yuzu, overgrown moss, forest mushrooms, wet humid frog skin

Leviathan (Hexennacht) — ambergris accord, soil, ozone, marine accord, seaweed accord, mitti attar, geosmin, matsutake mushroom, algae.

The Lighthouse (Mythpunk Olfactive) — The cozy aftermath of a seaside storm - maritime pine, ozone, heather, bloodmoss, rocky wet sand, black tea, wet wool drying by the fire

Floyd Leech

Scenic Route (Hexennacht) — California sagebrush, narrow-leaf eucalyptus, purple sage, pink peppercorn, driftwood, ocean air, orange blossom, sandalwood, cypress, palo santo, patchouli.

Why Would You Make This!? (Stone & Wit) — Lime, bergamot, Sichuan pepper, paprika, apples, raisins, salt, watermelon

OYSTER! (Poesie) — Grey musk, ocean brine, bitter cucumber, a twist of lemon, elemi resin, and angelica

Siren (Wild Hybrid) — Salty ocean water, barnacle covered rocks, wet ship wood, beeswax, sailor's pipe tobacco and spiced rum and the tang of blood to be spilt.

1991 (Sunsphere Scents) — Saltwater, grapefruit, an old boardwalk

Scarabia —

Eternal Sunshine (Hexennacht) — Coconut water, pineapple, apricot, papaya, banana, sunscreen, pool water, sandalwood, seaweed accord, sea salt, driftwood, mysore accord, sun-warmed sand, pool toys, choya nakh.

Kalim Al-Asim

Eight Minutes of Light and Heat Left When the Sun Dies (Death & Floral) — Pulpy coconut water and sweet Thai tea, blended with soft orange blossoms and a scorching desert thunderstorm looming in the distance.

Tempest (Siren Song Elixirs) — Dragon fruit, Lychee, Dahlia, Black Vanilla, Creamy Vanilla

Awakening Desert (Alkemia) — Rainstorm across desert. Cracked earth drinks deeply, softening into moist clay. Desert springs refill and replenish. An elemental scent of awakening... dry warm earth, parched grasses, dried wood, and mineralistic clay drenched in rainwater.

Beautiful, But Annihilating (Sorce) — Fresh coconut, jasmine sambac, tonka bean, salty skin

Cardigan (Death & Floral) — Bergamot and spiced cardamom blended with Egyptian musk superior and sandalwood

Jamil Viper

Serpentine (Sorce) — Ripe figs, fig leaf, cardamom, caramelized honey, vanilla, Peru balsam, Cedar, Iso E Super

Moonstone (Hexennacht) — argent ambre, night-blooming jasmine, evening air accord, lunar musk.

Whisper Your Bitter Things (Poesie) — Pressed coffee beans, dried clove bud, cassia bark, jasmine and neroli blossoms, and roasted vanilla pods

The Snake (Lovesick Witchery) — Notes of black narcissus, night blooming jasmine, honey, toffee, and black musk.

Violent Moon (Sugar & Spite) — Candied clove, incense, elemi, palo santo, raspberry leaf, sanguine musk, litchi, moss, sandalwood and patchouli.

Pomefiore —

Champagne Supernova (Black Hearted Tart) — Fizzy pink champagne is elevated with frozen mangoes and a sweet red berry accord. Freesia petals, baby powder, and cashmere musk add a flirty feel.

Vil Schoenheit

Smells Like Teen Slayer (Pierrot Perfumery) — A blend of stone fruits, sandalwood, amber, and white florals.

Thigh Highs (Luvmilk) — Juicy mango, creamy papaya blossom, a touch of resin coated vanilla, hints of jasmine and violet on a woody, earthy base.

Fluffy Pink Murder Robe (Fable & Canon) — Delicate blushed florals, Madagascar vanilla, soft fuzzy peach skin, and a spilled glass of champagne.

Proud Queen (CocoaPink) — She rules all that is strange and dangerous, poisonous and beautiful. Foxgloves, opium poppies, bitter nightshade, green roses of hellebore, oleander's apricot notes, and innocent orange blossom, with a breath of raspberries, white chocolate, marshmallow, and warm white musk.

Evil (BPAL) — Smouldering opium tar, tobacco absolute, green tea, black plum, kush, ambergris accord, ambrette seed, and costus root.

Epel Felmier

Bad Apple (Redwood Alchemy) — Apple, Leather, White Musk & Civet

Blue Jay Orchards (Birch & Besom) — Apple cider donuts, gently smoked honey, orchard soil, cedar, ripe gourds

Riverside Hayride (Solstice Scents) — Moist Dirt, White Carnations, Fallen Leaves, Bare Branches, Hay & a Hint of Pressed Apples

November (CocoaPink) — The unmistakable scent in the air the moment winter arrives. Pale snowflakes, bitter, cold air, dry vanilla, snow dusted trees, agar-wood, baked apple pie and smokey swirls of crackling tobacco.

Bite the Apple (Black Hearted Tart) — Honeycrisp red apples are plunged into a cauldron of creamy caramel and rolled in pieces of toffee and crushed walnut.

Rook Hunt

Crossbow of Vengeance (Fyrinnae) — Dried tobacco, freshly crushed black pepper, and the almost undetectable sweet scent of your poison-dipped bolts.

Balcony Tryst (Fyrinnae) — Tangerine blossoms! Sweet tangerines mixed with the heavier scent of their flowers, grounded by a bit of ginger lily, soft leather, and benzoin.

Ranger (BPAL) — Untamed wilderness: buckskin accord with Terebinth pine, Russian birch, black ironwood, elder bark, hay, armoise, juniper, patchouli, galangal root, Spanish moss, and cabreuva.

Hunter's Moon (Pulp Fragrance) — An Ode to Diana, lunar goddes of the Hunt: Moonflower, tonka bean, honeyed amber, sandalwood, tolu balsam, oud, and rich golden spice.

The Hunter's Kiss (Andromeda's Curse) — Key Notes: Leather, Dark Forest, Incense

Ignihyde —

Starship Mechanic (Fyrinnae) — Working among the generators and weapons control areas all day ensures the scents of titanium, steel tools, engine oil, and fuel stick to their skin and hair for hours. Even after a scented shower, mixing with the lingering fragrances of bergamot, woods, and patchouli, their line of work is fairly obvious when you get close. But you don't mind at all.

Idia Shroud

Please Rewind (Amorphous) — Highlights include VHS tape cases, hot popcorn, and the ozonic, static-like aroma of a hot VHS tape fresh from the VCR.

Artificer (BPAL) — Gleaming metal, gear oil, sparking wires, shattered glass, and a blue flicker of arcane power.

Shroud (Sugar & Spite) — Obsidian violet, geranium, coconut milk, amyris, saffron, cedar, and vetiver

In The Styx (Birch & Besom) — Cool mineral water, metallic silver, dry woods, aquatic atmospherics

The Black Gate (Pierrot Perfumery) — A truly evil blend of wormwood, labdanum, nag champa and blackened metal.

Ortho Shroud

Aerobraking (Fyrinnae) — The combination of warm machine oil, cold titanium, and the slightly stale scent of re-circulated oxygen.

Electric Feel (Death & Floral) — A blend of different electricity accords; hot wires, neon signs, tv static fuzz, the electricity that rumbles inside a thunderstorm.

Deus Ex Machina (Alkemia) — An olfactory portrait of industrial decay and the fallen gods of age of disruption, innovation, and technological revolution… fire hardened steel, rusted iron, motor oil, wet cement, burnt copper wires, and grey amber

Abduction (The Eyes Are Always There) — metallic and ozone top notes transition into a heart and base comprised of a subtle blending of rich spice, wood, organic and earthy components.

Eldritch (Red River Apothecary) — Inky black musk, cosmic horror, patent leather and a smattering of dark energy

Diasomnia —

Gargoyle (Nui Cobalt) — Rain-drenched lavender, cathedral incense, beeswax candles, and ancient stone.

Malleus Draconia

Green Eyes, Black Hair (The Strange South) — Oud, marshmallow, freesia, and vanilla.

Beastly (CocoaPink) — Ancient castle stones, the brooding airs of a dark forest, a threat of winter; a fougere fit for a prince, the musk and leather of a beast; a library filled with rare books; and a single red rose.

Insomnia (Sugar & Spite) — Oud, Black Pepper, beeswax, dragon's blood, light and dark patchouli, benzoin resin

Lost Temple (Nui Cobalt) — A nexus of mystery and hidden power. Damp moss, a humid tangle of mandevilla vines, freshly cut palo santo, rain-drenched stone, and the memory of sacred fires.

Thunder In Your Ear (The Strange South) — Dragon's blood, red musk, sleet, mandarin, and vanilla.

Silver

Aurora (Alkemia) — A luminescent skin-but-better aurora of soft cashmeran, orris root, cardamon infused coconut milk, white amber, white musk, white violet, white ginger, lotus flower, and a touch of honeyed cream.

Gentle Tormentor (CocoaPink) — You are that wild-eyed faery's child, beautiful and merciless. A bed of vanillas, tonka and white musk, laced with delicate lemon and bergamot.

Doe Eyed and Dreaming (Sugar & Spite) — Assam au lait, dry vanilla pods, burned brown sugar, oak wood, tonka, ambrette and the tiniest hint of firewood

Fey Touched (Nui Cobalt) — A glistening aura of elemental power to enhance all spellcraft. Sunflower petals, honeyed almond, yuzu, sacred benzoin, and prismatic mist from woodland stream dappled in sunlight.

Inside a Nightmare (Death & Floral) — The olfactory profile of a constantly changing nightmare. Freezing cold water, asphalt, sea salt, lavender & chamomile. very soft leather car interior. Which turn was wrong, and where did we end up?

Sebek Zigvolt

Magic Compass (Nui Cobalt) — An enchantment to navigate you through the fog and keep you on the right path. Shining brass, benzoin, angelica flower, quatre épices, sandalwood, golden patchouli, and a touch of ripe passion fruit.

Vert et Noir (DSH) — A bright, citric-green eau fraiche vetiver fragrance with vegetal notes and ozone to bring the unexpected.

Sorcerer (BPAL) — A golden, sparking surge of raw, wild magic: waves of amber, frankincense, red cacao, blood orange, and lavender touched by demonic incense and dragon’s blood.

Lightning (BPAL) — Lightning slashing the midnight skies over the endless reaches of the ocean. The electric tang of ozone, marine notes, and a drop of sharp rain.

16 The Tower (Wild Hybrid) — Lightning and stone

Lilia Vanrouge

Frickin' Bats (Hexennacht) — Vanilla ice cream, black licorice whips, candy corn, root beer, kettle corn.

90s Goth (Amorphous) — Aroma palette is a spooky, spicy, dark floral musk with hints of leather and spice. Highlights include clove cigarette smoke, jet black lipstick, worn leather, fog machine, and white violet musk.

Bats in the Belfry (Pierrot Perfumery) — A sweet, musty blend. Notes of vintage lace, dried flowers and dusty photos.

You'll Never Grow Old (CocoaPink) — A vintage amusement park on a summer night boardwalk where the coolest vampires hang out. The irresistible mingling of cotton candy, waffle cones, caramel popcorn, and candy apple is stalked by the tang of an oncoming storm, sea salt, freshly-dug dirt, and a primal, seductive musk.

Moondust Will Cover You (Sugar & Spite) — Lush green foliage, tiny, still-green wildflowers bathed in moonlight, and a sweet breeze that smells of love and sorrow.

Ramshackle —

Parlour (Fantome) — A darkly polished mahogany rapping table, spirit boards, sweet rosewood chests, burning incense, and a hint of vetiver.

Grim

Purr (Hexennacht) — kitten fur accord, yarn (wool absolute), milky kitten breath, tonka bean absolute, musk.

Le Chat Noir (Hexennacht) — chimney smoke, freshly fallen snow, and the cool, dry, musky scent of a cat just in from a long winter stroll.

Vampire Cat (Nui Cobalt) — Playfully alluring. Top notes of tart cherry and pomegranate, a warm heart of rooibos, torch ginger, and hibiscus, and a base of red cedarwood and dragon’s blood resin.

Making Biscuits (Deep Midnight) — The most ubiquitous of cat practices, biscuits are about sharing. Main notes of: bread, sugar, fire, pumpkin, cardamom

Kitten and the Falling Leaves (Alkemia) — An olfactory portrait of crisp dry leaves and warm musky kitten fur.

NRC Staff —

Dire Crowley

The Night-Raven (BPAL) — Indigo musk, wild plum, rose geranium, benzoin, night-blooming jasmine, and patchouli.

Prismatic Crow (Crow & Pebble) — Soft woods, dark forest fruits, dry pine needles, juniper branches and a wisp of smoke.

A Fine Gentleman (The Strange South) — Blackberry, licorice, wood shavings, bay rum, and clove.

Ravenous (Siren Song Elixirs) — Frost, Snow, Ozone, Birch, Cypress, Fir Needles, Oakmoss, Sandalwood, Black Salt, Black Pepper, Charcoal, Sweet Milk, Blue Musk, Vetiver, Nag Champa, Mahogany, Narcissus blooms

Villain (BPAL) — A classic Victorian men’s cologne: a lavender fougere, with hints of lilac, lime, and citrus musk.

Divus Crewel

Hand Me My Leather (Hexennacht) — premium leather/suede accord, vanilla, benzoin, tolu balsam, Peru balsam, olibanum, amber, black pepper, cedar, sandalwood, tonka, musk.

My Curse (Stone & Wit) — Red wine, hyssop, cashmere, suede, musk

The Devil's Bentley (Pierrot Perfumery) — Coal, brimstone, car exhaust, black musk and 1970's amber cologne.

Wardrobe (Solstice Scents) — Creamy woods blend with cashmere, fur, velvet and a touch of dry woody spice.

Hexes 4 My Exes (Birch & Besom) — Leather, Earl Grey tea, vintage powder, crushed violets, cauldron smoke

Mozus Trein

1891 (Alkemia) — A delightful anachronism of French lavender buds, mandarin peel, lime leaves, bergamot, bay leaves, coriander, clove, nutmeg, ginger flower, pink pepper, elegant white carnations, heirloom tree rose, opium tar accord, and woody amber resin nestled in an embrace of precious oriental incense woods.

Beloved (Stone & Wit) — Apricot brandy, sandalwood, cedar

Vintage (Hexennacht) — Golden amber, Medjool dates, vanilla, amber attar, citrus, resins, Mysore sandalwood, opoponax.

Lucifer (Hexennacht) — White sage, blue musk, cedar, blackberry, black tea, bergamot, apple.

The Blues Are All the Same (Death & Floral) — Smooth vanilla cognac, aged barrel wood, and sticky honey.

Ashton Vargas

The Heartbreaking Simplicity of Ordinary Things (Death & Floral) — Freshly opened tennis balls, cool crisp meteor shower nights, warm and sweet cardamom

Black Mass (Hexennacht) — essentially, "MOON-mallow ": smoked vanilla, frankincense, Peru balsam, labdanum, amber, vetiver, atlas cedarwood, patchouli, night musk, and scorched marshmallows.

Greymist (Pineward) — noble fir, scotch pine, expressed citron, blond tobacco, botanical musk, vetiver.

Lothario (Wild Hybrid) — Night blooming flowers with a touch of campfire smoke and leather.

The Wolf Only Needs Luck to Find You Once (Death & Floral) — Crisp forest night air, lunar musk, large drifting Oakwood trees, the musky scent of a trailing shadow.

Sam

Spellbound (Lovesick Witchery) — Notes of cinnamon, bourbon, tonka bean, salted caramel, sandalwood, and vanilla.

Cafe (The Strange South) — Chicory coffee, hot beignets, and pralines.

Memento Mori (Siren Song Elixirs) — Lily, Tuberose, Forget-Me-Nots, Rain, Amber, Incense

Parlor Trick (Solstice Scents) — Ivory lace, white wax, aged paper, glossy white smoke, teak, black tea, blonde woods, delicate spice, bone musk, Manor and a faint trace of rose

Imp (Haus of Gloi) — Peculiar passion fruit mingling with sun cured apricots, perfectly pink grapefruit juice and innocent whispers of wet mimosa blooms.

Royal Sword Academy —

Ambrose the 63rd

The Mentor (Nui Cobalt) — A venerable wizard, mysterious but kind, with faded robes and shining eyes. Ancient sandalwood, well-worn linen, olive leaf, oakmoss, Earl Grey tea, and sacred temple incense. Wear for guidance in times of confusion, and for spiritual support in times of discouragement.

Wizard's Tome (Pierrot Perfumery) — An herby blend of sage, lavender, with notes of parchment and wet stone.

Wizard's Library (Birch & Besom) — Antique books, a smooth cup of hazelnut coffee, cedar desks, sandalwood, sweet tobacco

Nocturne #10 (Siren Song Elixirs) — Mahogany, Amber, Dried leaves, Vanillin, Fireplace Smoke, Coffee, Shea butter, Wood embers, Marshmallow

As Above So Below (Sugar & Spite) — Delicate, ephemeral lilacs, sweet swirls of cream, and mahogany wood

Chenya

Cereal Marshmallows (Hexennacht) — Cronchy, sugary, delicious. Also terrible for you, but OH WELL.

Pouty Kitten (Luvmilk) — Old fashioned cream soda, piles of sugared strawberries, a bowl of whipped cream, freshly cut grass on a warm summer day.

Cheshire Cat (BPAL) — Grapefruit, red currant, dark musk, Roman chamomile, delphinium, and lavender.

Lavender Sugar Cookie (Fable & Canon) — Soft, sweet lavender and rich vanilla folded into buttery sugar cookies.

Lofty Castle (Luvmilk) — Candied lavender, fresh honey, puffs of cotton candy, and raw sugar.

Neige Leblanche

Sit For a Spell (Sorce) — Salted cantaloupe, a light drizzle of wild rosemary honey, fresh spring air, ambrette seed, and winding honeysuckle vines

Lost in the Wood (Crow & Pebble) — A thicket of mossy silver birch, bluebell flowers and violet leaves crushed underfoot, with apple blossoms and elderflower blooming overhead.

Meadowmoss (Pineward) — Oakmoss, alpine sandwort, wild grass, green wheat, orange blossom, fir balsam, tomato leaf, azure bluet, mountain wildflowers.

Angelic (Lovesick Witchery) — Notes of sparkling yuzu soda, white tea leaves, mint, apple blossom, white sage, cedarwood, and angelic musk.

Good (BPAL) — Shimmering celestial musk with vanilla, white honey, acacia, and sugar cane.

Book 7 Characters —

Baul Zigvolt

The Faerie Knight (Wild Hybrid) — Tuberose, aged leather, helichrysum, cassie absolute, apricot, ethereal musk and tangled greenery.

Chevalier Vert (Olympic Orchids) — Citrus, rhubarb, tomato leaf, armoise, violet leaf, violet, orris, and peony, Sichuan pepper, and soft woods.

Luna (Laurel & June) — Crystal white amber, night blooming jasmine and lotus flowers; heather, fig blossoms, cool night rain

Stratus (Osmofolia) — Broken stems, ambergris, bitter galbanum, silvery osmanthus, wet stones, damp soil, glimpses of cherry blossom buds, and never-ending fog.

After the Night's Shade (Mythpunk Olfactive) — Earl grey (bergamot, black tea), 'blue' Spanish lavender, golden amber, osmanthus, rosewood, sandalwood, tonka bean, vetiver (Bourbon), aged patchouli, opoponax 216, pure oakmoss, and pine tree moss

Dawn Knight

Forest Prince (Luvmilk) — A woodsy clean scented blend of cedarwood, moss, hyacinth, sandalwood, and subtle musk.

Paladin (BPAL) — Immaculate white musk, sweet frankincense, bourbon vanilla, white leather, and shining armor.

Iron & Oak (Redwood Alchemy) — Oakmoss, Cashmere Wood, Iron, Lily of the Valley, Spice

Lost Epitaph (Mythpunk Olfactive) — Briar rose, narcissus, creeping ivy, crumbling headstones, cemetery rain

Apparition (Hexennacht) — Spectral amber, alabaster vanilla, bone-white woods.

Maleanor Draconia

Dragon Princess (Crow & Pebble) — Ocean waves, gifts of pink peony, waterlily blooms and ripe tangerines, underpinned by deep red amber and dragonsblood incense.

What's Inside a Girl (Sugar & Spite) — Smoldering embers, honey, clove, and wildflowers

Draconic Resilience (Nui Cobalt) — A stalwart spell for strength and reinforcement. Glowing embers of cedarwood, oudh, and mahogany, supple leather, copaiba balsam, vermillion musk, and heat.

Love is Lost (Sugar & Spite) — Dark plum, black vanilla, nag champa, indian sandalwood, cashmere, red patchouli, and smoky embers

She Was the Storm (Death & Floral) — Black hemlock, driftwood, hay absolute, dreamy sandalwood, spiced oudh, dried fruits, dead leaves

Event Characters —

Dylla Spade

Tulips and Chimneys (Alkemia) — An urban springtime of rainy aldehydes, wet asphalt, industrial steam engines, farmer's market bouquets of fresh tulips, Toulouse violets, mint pastels, and a warm touch of clove viburnum.

Odette (Haus of Gloi) — Clean sun dried linens, tuberose, ginger lily and white musk.

Meadow Nymph (Morari) — Wildflower Accord, Green Apple, Dew-Laden Grass, Lemon Peel

Night of Folly (The Strange South) — Exhaust, floral musk, and a Zulu coconut.

Street Racer (Cirrus Parfum) — Cherry bubblegum, leather car interior, newly laid rubber, hot tarmac, a tinge of anxiety

Eliza (The Ghost Bride)

Dance With Me (Possets) — Refreshing and refined at once. A superb coumarin-laced lavender combines with fizzy pink grapefruit, and it all rests on a bed of white musk.

Scenes From a Marriage (The Strange South) — A single violet rose, apple, champa flower, ylang-ylang, chipped paint, and dusty old picture frames.

Midnight Wedding (Sorce) — Bergamot, oud, patchouli, sandalwood, tonka bean, Ambroxan

Dead & Lovely (Pierrot Perfumery) — A flowery blend of jasmine, wisteria, lilies, corpse flower, and casket silk.

Forever As Now (Sugar & Spite) — Lavender, Tonka, French vanilla, sandalwood, Egyptian musk

Eric Venue

Private Eye (Solstice Scents) — Natural Blend of Cocoa, Myrrh, Pink Pepper, Black Pepper, Tonka, Buddha Wood, Tobacco, Coffee, Guiacwood & More

Invocation (Sugar & Spite) — Spiced brandy, toasted praline, pistachio and walnut, oak, mahogany, palm Santo and patchouli

World Famous For 15 Minutes (Death & Floral) — Sweet tobacco and vanilla, blended with a hint of violet and gin

Black Iris (Alkemia) — Royal purple iris and Queen Elizabeth orris root pillowed in a soft nimbostratus raincloud.

Sassy (Hexennacht) — glossy magazine pages infused with a wafting fusion of 90's scent strip samples. IYKYK.

Fellow Honest

Carnival of Illustrious Hearts (Alkemia) — A glitteringly gourmet gala of French sugarcreams, candied orange blossoms, raspberry cotton candy, rosewater torte filling, and Bourbon vanilla amber.

Mischief Master (Crow & Pebble) — A heart of carnation, orange blossom and rock rose atop a base of oakmoss and musk, topped with a burst of fresh, sweet orange and aromatic saffron.

Shadow Touched (Nui Cobalt) — A dusky philtre for stealth and sleight of hand. Black vanilla, unsweetened chai, antique myrrh, Omani musk, rich pipe tobacco, agarwood, and unrefined cashmere.

Lament of the Midway (Lovesick Witchery) — Notes of spilled cherry slush, bubblegum, black licorice, hay, dead grass, motor oil, cement and corn husks.

Widowmaker (Siren Song Elixirs) — Mirabelle plums, dark ripe fruit, black vanilla, gunpowder, black suede, hint of cotton candy

Gidel

Bubble Pop (Death & Floral) — Bright pink bubble gum, spiced apricots, lemon rind and bitter orange peel, red berries + bergamot.

Star Circus (Luvmilk) — Rich, creamy vanilla and blueberry.

Night Carnival (Lovesick Witchery) — Notes of funnel cakes, whipped cream, and a dusting of sugar sprinkles.

A Whiff of Wafflecone (Imaginary Authors) — Fragrance Notes: Vanilla, Salted Caramel, Saigon Cinnamon, Heavy Cream, Sandalwood, Orgeat, Scoop Shop

Boardwalk Sideshow (Birch & Besom) — Salty sea air, bright orchids, mint limeade, white musk, jasmine

Kifaji

Archipelago (Haus of Gloi) — Golden fruits from across the seas. Toasted coconut, kola nuts, tamarind and jackfruit - all warmed with a light dusting of brown sugar.

Helios (Osmofolia) — Honey, heliotrope, chamomile, lemon, mango, and white amber.

Alibi (Cirrus Parfum) — passionfruit, orange blossom, guava, strawberry yuzu lemonade, and a dash of coconut cream over a rosewood base.

Sun Gold (Laurel & June) — White amber, banana milk and honey

Sent From Heaven (Laurel & June) — Hibiscus blooms, rice flower, shea, faint bit of smoke, white amber

Marja Felmier

Villa Diodati (Poesie) — Pungent wild rosemary, fresh balsam pine, crystal clear lakewater, dry, and dark vanilla

Snowshoe Hare (Nui Cobalt) — Nutmeg and tonka bean nuzzle up against fluffy marshmallow, cottonflower, white suede, clove bud, cashmere, and a trace of carrot seed.

Winter's Lament (Deep Midnight) — Crackling Firewood, Cassis, Apple, Spruce, Balsam, Citrus, Dark Tea, Pinecones, and Sugar Crystals

Grandma's Best Friend (Deep Midnight) — Iris, Sandalwood, Heliotrope, Musk, Apple, Citron, Jasmine, Cedar

Orchard Brew (Lovesick Witchery) — Notes of candied apples, mulling spices, caramel apple cider, and dark amber.

Najma Viper

Cipher (Stone & Wit) — Lime, jasmine, spices, oud (black agar) accord, raspberry

Good Omen (Sugar & Spite) — Jasmine, pineapple, green apple, tart grapefruit, musk and sandalwood

Titania (Poesie) — Blonde woods, sparkling bergamot, orange creamsicle, magnolia, and stargazer lily

Pink Lipstick (Lovesick Witchery) — Notes of orange cream pops, sugar, vanilla bean, heliotrope, oats, pink velvet, whipped tonka, gilded amber, and fluffy pink musk.

Sitting On the Edge of a Cloud (Sorce) — Mandarin orange, pink grapefruit, cotton candy, coconut water, amyris wood, sandalwood, palo santo, ambrette, tonka bean

Rollo Flamme

C'est Noel (Sorce) — Coffee, freshly baked cinnamon bread, roasted chestnuts, blown out candles, lingering church incense, and softly falling snow

En Repos (Sugar & Spite) — A mélange of melancholy, indeed. Beeswax candles, church incense, pale musk, amber resin and funeral flowers.

A Midnight Dreary (Wylde Ivy) — Notes of scattered coffee grounds, cedar smoke, rum, well aged leather, black vanilla, singed tonka, dripping wax, with a touch of spiced amber and fireplace embers.

Cathedral (BPAL) — Venerable and solemn: the scent of incense smoke wafting through an ancient church. A true ecclesiatical blend of pure resins.

Dance of Death (BPAL) — Dry, bone-white orris, black musk, serpentine patchouli and our murkiest myrrh.

Skully J. Graves

Not Dead, But Arisen (Fantome) — Freshly turned grave soil and spring greenery lie beneath uplifting orange and crisp yuzu.

Cemetery Tour (The Strange South) — Osmanthus, crumbling stone, brick dust, moss, and graveyard dirt.

Lacrimosa (Sugar & Spite) — Blonde woods, heliotrope, a bouquet of dried, dusty flowers tied with tattered velvet ribbon, bone-white birch, guaiac wood, tears, and a pinch of graveyard dirt

Cemetery Soirée (Nui Cobalt) — A celebration of life in the presence of Death. Mossy stone walls, lanterns aglow, steam from a cauldron of hot spiced cider, funeral flowers catching rain from crimson leaves above.

Merry Halloween (CocoaPink) — The Pumpkin King comes to Christmas Town! A festive clash of holidays. Sweet pumpkin, salted caramel apples, candy corn, and night woodsmoke meets snowy mounds of vanilla ice-cream; wild pinyon pine, black spruce needles, cranberries and candied orange peel.

Website Links —

Alkemia

Amorphous

Andromeda's Curse

Birch & Besom

Black Hearted Tart

BPAL

Cirrus Parfum

CocoaPink

Crow & Pebble

Death & Floral

Deconstructing Eden

Deep Midnight

DSH

Fable & Canon

Fantome

Fyrinnae

Haus of Gloi

Hexennacht

Imaginary Authors

Laurel & June

Lovesick Witchery

Luvmilk

Morari

Mythpunk Olfactive

Nui Cobalt

Olympic Orchids

Osmofolia

Pierrot Perfumery

Pineward

Poesie

Possets

Pulp Fragrance

Red River Apothecary

Redwood Alchemy

Siren Song Elixirs

Solstice Scents

Sorce

Stone & Wit

Sugar & Spite

Sunsphere Scents

The Eyes Are Always There

The Strange South

Wild Hybrid

Wylde Ivy

[ectologia]

love your stuff!! would you be ok with making something about bakugo just being a bully?

HARD TIMES

KATSUKI BAKUGOU X F!READER

𝐂𝐖 ♱ DUBCON/NONCON, BULLYING, ABUSE, SWEATY ARMPITS, PISS, HUMILIATION, MISOGYNY, SIZE KINK, SIZE DIFFERENCE, CRUEL NICKNAMES, DEGRADATION, OBJECTIFICATION, PROFANITY

“Hey.”

You shuffle down the corridor quicker at the deep, rumbling snarl. Twisting the straps of your bag tighter in your clammy fists as you take long, purposeful strides, almost skipping in your steps.

“Hey, don’t ignore me.” A heavy palm lands on your shoulder, squeezing like a python once your back collides with the wall.

Your eyes follow the stocky blonde’s form all the way up his hard chest, chasing to confirm the two crimson rubies placed atop his tanned features like the gems of a crown.

Bakugou juts his chin upwards in an abrasive fashion the moment you whimper under the pressure of his fingertips.

“I didn’t see you in math today.”

You sweep his hand off, shuffling backwards beneath his stoic gaze. “I.. Uhm.. I switched classes..” You mumble, barely coherent under your meek breath.

“Why’s that.”

It’s not a question, nor does he care for an answer.

One thudding foot after another and he’s in your shadow, looming over you like the sun swallowing the moon.

Two thick biceps come to rest by your spinning head, propped against the wall at the perfect angle for the heady stench of his sweaty armpits to suffocate you in the tight space.

“I’m disappointed, I was looking forward to seeing my little cock-sock today.”

You turn, raising a defensive fore-arm. “Please, Bakugou. Not today, I—”

He curls a set of scarred fingers around the flimsy joint, stretching it upwards until he has you pinned like a butterfly, helpless and vulnerable against the wall.

“What’s my name?” He scoffs.

You squeal once the calloused digits tense, popping and rolling your delicate bones in a painful hug.

“Katsuki! Katsuki!”

His fist goes limp once again. “There we go.. stupid bitch.”

The heavy appendage drops back down to his side, as does yours. You rub at the red stripes left across your skin, encouraging the blood to pool back into your veins.

“I ain’t got much time, training’s in 20 minutes.”

“Huh?” Your head snaps up, brows knitted in pardon.

His eyes roll in their sockets. “Get your pussy out, need to fuck something.”

Panic strikes and you’re flinching away.

“Hey, stop acting like such a little victim — just spread ‘em.”

It takes him less than 3 seconds to do it himself. You’re hoisted up onto the window-sill with one large palm splayed across your ass, while the other comes down to paw at the fabric stretched across your chubby mound.

“Thought I told you to stop wearing these shitty shorts under your skirt.”

“I can’t, they’re part of the uniform policy!”

“Blah, blah, bitch.” He tugs at the black spandex. “All I’m hearing is you want your pussy lips burnt off.”

The fibres twang and snap under the crackling heat of his quirk, disconnecting until a grand burning hole is left in the garment.

“Katsuki!”

“That’s me.” He snickers with a toothy grin, pulling away to inspect the tiny slit between your legs.

“Did you get looser?” He cleaves the swollen folds apart, hooking two thumbs around the gooey rim of your pussyhole.

You tuck your chin into your chest, frowning down at his ministrations.

“Only joking babe.” He spanks your clit, chuckling at the way your legs jump. “She’s still good for another fuck or two.”

He wastes no time, pulling the stiff length of his fat dick out to slap against your puffed up pussy.

“Let’s do this quick, yeah? Don’t really wanna be seen piping a loser, no offence.”

You’re swung back and forth by the hinges of your knees with your feet left dangling in the air, clumsily knocking his back with every hop.

His hips clap against the crease of your thighs, pumping in and out of your sloppy cunny as the bulbous head of his cock pokes at your cervix.

“Oh, fuck, yeah. Bounce that fat-ass back on me, just like that.” He howls through the thin space of his pursed lips, huffing and puffing as he lifts you up and down on his prick.

“B— Katsuki!”

“Shh, shut up.”

He squeezes your face in between his fingers, smothering your mouth in an attempt to keep your cries to a minimum.

A dewy sheen bubbles along his hairline, darkening the beach blond spikes until the ends droop from the humidity. The way his large frame tips forward to knock his sweaty forehead against yours has you mewling, clawing at his shoulders for stability and some form of comfort as he uses you like his own girlie little flesh-light.

“Mmh.. Fuck on it, fuck on that cock, fuck on that big fat monster cock.”

His rapid thumping slows to a mellow pace as a ponderous expression befalls him. “All this humping’s making me need a piss.”

At this, you yelp. Thrashing around in his arms like a fish out of water.

He takes one step, two steps, towards the window until you’re squashed and squished against the glass.

“Well done piggie. You’ve just been promoted to Katsuki Bakugou’s new toilet.”

The torrid stream has you feeling almost bloated, on the brink of bursting as you’re pumped full off cock and piss, dribbling and squirting out of the tiny seam left in the space that Katsuki has yet to fill. Your toes curl and cripple from the positively sickening warmth of his urine spraying out of your cunt, sloshing around in what you can only assume is your womb.

“Oh, yeah. That’s the stuff…” His ears twitch at the sensation of releasing inside your body.

Your head lounges against your shoulder, floating in and out of consciousness until a stinging smack to your cheek has you shaking yourself awake.

“You passin’ out on me already?” He adjusts his position, bringing your pliable, fucked-out body closer towards his chest.

“I ain’t even cum yet, baby.”

[nyx-umbrakinesis]

Late

Vox x FReader

CW: Smut, P in V sex, fingering, edging, overstimulation, erotic electrostimulation, semi public, fairly vanilla after hours office smut, lots of praise and various (excessive) endearments used... praise kink go brrr.

fic below the cut.

I hope you all enjoy your hot TV dinner.

Vox sat in his office working late one evening, focused on the screens before him, observing the general objects of his interest outside of the tower, he is consciously aware of the time due to the noises or rather lack of, in the areas outside his main (socially friendly) office. 

Rubbing a clawed hand wearily over his screen he sighs; he resigns himself to the fact there’s probably no more he can do so late in the day, and it be conducive to his productivity. 

So, he stands on heavy feet and exits his office, blinking a few times when he spots a certain little sinner diligently working away at their desk. This one seems to work as hard as he does these days, he wonders why for a moment, after all everyone else can’t seem to get away from work fast enough... Yet you... You linger. 

You look up and blink in surprise, having not noticed him leaving his office at first, and this is actually pretty early for him to make an appearance, usually he’s engrossed in his work until a much later hour. 

You shiver slightly at his intimidating posture, Vox is just standing and staring at you, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. You restrain yourself from reacting. It wouldn’t do well to give away how his mere presence affects you, especially not knowing how he... Or specifically his other male counterpart, might react if he found out exactly why it is you linger so late in the office night after night. 

Your thighs tense slightly under the desk, the safest move possible and it does help alleviate some of the ache within. 

“Can I help you sir?” You manage to pipe up as formally as possible, slightly unnerved and hyper aware of the isolation surrounding you both as has been a frequent occurrence lately. 

“Mhm.” Vox nods, his eyes scanning over you, you think perhaps hungrily, or rather you half hope, as he seems to maintain his composure with what appears to be effortless ease. 

 He takes a step closer, his voice low and husky, his glowing eyes trained upon you as he speaks. You try to manage your breathing to stay level as his scent hits your nose; slightly metallic, maybe a hint of something more but very subtle, his cologne overpowered by the heady smell of fuel or perhaps oil, your mouth waters slightly, it's an addicting smell either way, subtle but almost hypnotic... Just as he can be. 

“You know, I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately, Doll. Your work ethic is truly... inspiring.” His words are dripping with innuendo, your heart races, and eyes dilate, and, in your head, you panic, thinking over and over again ‘It’s happening’. There’s also an underlying sincerity that betrays his true feelings, one you don't seem to notice, but is a little too exposing for his comfort. 

He leans in slightly, his breath hot against your ear as he continues. “And those... ‘assets’ of yours. Absolutely fascinating. I can’t help but wonder how, you came up with such... efficient productivity plans.” His voice is barely above a whisper now, filled with desire and obsession, he idly thinks to himself how he would love to feel your ‘assets’ pressed against him. 

You shiver slightly at his proximity, his breath ghosting the nape of your neck and goosebumps erupting all over your skin, your heart pounding at his suggestive tone, you must restrain yourself from moaning out loud and embarrassing yourself. 

Vox straightens up, his grin turning wicked as he meets your gaze, knowingly guessing correctly his effect on you, after all there’s a reason you’ve also been working late, and it definitely isn’t due to your work ethics.  

Vox ploughs on... “You see, my dear, I can’t get you out of my head lately. I’ve been wondering if perhaps you also have been having the same... challenges I have seemingly been ‘blessed’ with upon our frequent encounters... And I’ve decided I’m done waiting and second guessing... I want you Doll, I’m not going to waste time beating around the bush, I’ll do whatever it takes to make you mine, name it and it’s yours.” 

You blush, as your boss leans closer, his heat making your heart race, his smirk widening as he sees the evidence of his effect on you, your blush, your tense body, the small bumps forming along your skin, the slight shiver and submissive tilt of your head, he feels his cock hardening, already desperate to find out just how good you feel wrapped around it, not a new feeling, but one he feels much closer to achieving, now more than ever. 

Vox steps even closer, looming over you now, his chest almost touching yours as he bends and speaks in a low, husky voice. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you look when you blush, Doll? Do you have any idea what that does to me... What you do to me? It’s like you’re inviting me to take you, to taste you.” 

You’re utterly mesmerised, speech unable to form as you bathe in his ever-present glow, his large frame dwarfing you, making you feel delicate and ready to melt just for him, the moisture between your legs already way ahead of you. 

Vox’s sharp, cyan-tipped fingers reach out, a moment of unnoticed hesitation on his end before gently brushing against your cheek and tracing down your neck, your breath hitches, your heart pounding so hard your vision blurs and ears feel muffled.  

“And your pulse... it’s racing. Are you afraid of me, my dear?” Vox teases, his fingers lingering right where your heart betrays you, he knows that the exact opposite is true, if his scent receptors were more sensitive, he would no doubt be able to smell the arousal currently pooling in your underwear, filling the office with such a fragrance you’d be utterly humiliated to be found as the source. You try desperately to control your reactions, trying so hard not to embarrass yourself. 

Vox smiles devilishly, leaning in even closer, his lips mere centimetres from yours, breath tickling your lips, his own heady scent wafting up your nostrils, making your eyes want to roll back and for you to present yourself like a bitch in heat, as he whispers, tantalisingly. 

“Or are you excited by just the mere thought of being mine?” His glowing blue tongue darts out provocatively, your eyes greedily following the suggestive action, a slight whimper escapes, making you blush even harder, hoping he hadn’t noticed, but the look on his face says everything. 

Vox’s screen flickers suddenly displaying various images of the two of you together in intimate scenarios, revealing his deepest fantasies and desires in just a fraction of a second, but enough for you to see, your whole body goes hot at his intentional display. 

You stammer over your words, attempting to communicate, utterly enthralled and speechless... You whimper slightly as his body heat radiates even closer to you, the main source... His screen... You lean forward unconsciously seeking the warmth... And him. 

Vox smirks, noticing your reaction to his advances. He takes advantage of your momentary vulnerability, closing the gap between your faces until his lips are almost touching yours. “You want me, don’t you, Doll?” He whispers, his hot breath mingling with yours. 

You visibly shiver, his grin widens impossibly further as you gaze up at him, your brain short circuiting. 

Emboldened by your reactions thus far, Vox’s fingers continue their exploration, taking a huge gamble but he doubts he’s read you wrong, moving down to gently cup your breast through your clothing. 

He feels you arch into his touch slightly in response, and it only makes him more determined to claim you, your whimper assures him his advances are not unwelcome. He marvels at the soft pliant feel of you in his hands, all just for him... Just the way he likes it. 

Vox is certainly glad you seem to take the time to work as late as he does, (whether his guess as to your motives is correct or not) as it’s left the office deserted for the two of you, fortuitous circumstances indeed. 

His thumb rubs over your nipple, he watches your reactions closely, savouring the sight of your arousal, the slight stutter of your chest on an inhale, the trembling of your upper body, the goosebumps rising incessantly on your flesh. 

“You see, my dear, I can give you everything you desire... All you have to do is submit to me.” Vox coos, trying to entice you further, wanting there to be no doubts in your mind, wanting your full submission. He wants you to want him, needs this more than he ever realised, before, maybe its infatuation, but he’s never felt so hard for another in his entire existence... Well except... But that’s never going to happen. 

Vox’s screen this time involuntarily displays an image of the two of you, entwined in a passionate embrace. It’s clear to you that he’s envisioning a future where you belong to him completely, it’s actually a rather wholesome scene of the pair of you entwined, his fingers stroking down you back as you read to him, his eyes trained on your face with a look in his eyes you’ve never seen before. 

You bite your lip, stifling a moan as your senses are jarred back to him and his touch as Vox kneads your breasts, feeling a fresh warm rush of desire and arousal flood between your legs, further ruining your underwear, if there is such a possibility at this point. 

You whimper softly as he teases your nipple with the tip of his claw, edging you and waiting for an answer before taking anything further, the raised eyebrow makes you realise all of this. 

“Yes please... Sir.” You manage to breathe out, finally finding and forcing your voice to do its damn job, feeling a little faint from the effort of not just letting him do all the work. 

Finally! Vox chuckles menacingly, his eyes flashing with satisfaction as they darken with desire as he hears your plea, still using his office honorific, he finds he rather likes that particular word coming from your enticing lips, as breathy whines escape you, encouraging him further with every reaction he drags from you. 

Unable to hold back, you feel as though you could combust right now with the overwhelming racing thoughts and sensations, your fear of getting caught in the act, your despair of the possibility of this being a use and dump situation, his utterly enthralling pleasurable ministrations, his scent... Just him in general, you whine even louder as he floods your senses to know nothing but him in this moment. 

You wonder why you’re holding back from something you’ve wanted and fantasised about for so long now. Perhaps it is because you’re both still in the office, your whirling fears a cacophony in your head, trying to warn you. 

Despite being the only souls who should be anywhere near at this late hour, there are the cleaning crew to still worry about, you have a thrill of fear, at this though, the thought of being heard or worse yet, being seen impaled on your boss's cock as he rails you seven ways to Sunday. 

Vox is completely unconcerned which such things, it seems, his touch swiftly becomes bolder, squeezing your breasts more firmly now he’s had audible consent, he leans in eagerly to capture your lips in a bruising electrifying kiss, and all thoughts about being caught fizzle from your mind as you moan into his mouth, finally getting a taste of the fuzzy static you had pondered would be present. 

He can practically taste your desperation, his tongue delving and exploring with impatience, now he’s got you he wants everything all at once, he needs every experience he’s rubbed his cock to, fantasising for months about you now as he’s observed your beautiful curves and sway of your hips as he’s let you out late each evening from work to lock up behind you.  

Using the VoxTec drone Vox had subtly followed you home as he’d rushed to the nearby janitorial closet, your walking rear displayed on his screen, he gasps and moans, his hand wrapping around the blue throbbing need and stroking himself with abandon and desperation, until he erupts into a nearby cloth, the frequency of these acts leaving him raw and yet unable to stop, even after he was caught by a cleaning staff member, promptly silenced. 

You sigh, bringing his thoughts back into the moment, he finally has you, why is he wasting time reminiscing when the glory is all right here, right now? Practically begging for him to enjoy, and enjoy he shall, he smiles, his screen heating to an unsafe temperature for a moment as the fans kick in. 

You moan, to his utter delight, he’s delicious, and it only fuels his own desire. His tongue explores your mouth fervently, he presses himself even closer dominating the space and pressing against you as he deepens the kiss even more, your mouth giving way to his. It's odd because his kisses leave such tingles on your lips, but it’s not a flat screen you’re meeting, its rather firm, but they’re definitely a pair of lips you feel, electrified, tingly lips, but they feel amazing. 

Vox breaks the kiss briefly, allowing you both some air, his voice husky, full of lust and confidence as he speaks, almost repeating himself word for word once more. 

“You’re going to be mine, My Doll. And I promise you, I will give you everything you’ve ever dreamed of.” 

He captures your lips again, his fingers still teasing your nipples as he claims you in a display of dominance and power, bearing down on you. His other hand moves lower, pressing against the fabric covering your wetness, making sure you know exactly what he intends, as if there was doubt at this point. 

You whimper, your hips bucking as he brushes your swollen aching clit through the fabric, and he smirks against your lips, the zing of his static causes your hairs to stand on end, his own cock jumps inside his trousers at the feel of your sopping cunt, not a dry patch to be found on your panties, and even your skirt and office chair had suffered the same fate. His arrogant grin widens at the thought of him being the cause off this, and the willingness emanating from your squirming whining form.

“Good Baby Doll.” Vox purrs, pleased with your response. He moves in, pressing his lips against yours in a bruising kiss, his tongue demanding entrance into your mouth. 

“Mmm.”  

Vox moans as he tastes you, his hands still fondling your breasts possessively, your back arching as you whimper and moan deliciously for him, after a few seconds, he pulls away, his electric blue eyes darkened with desire as he drinks you in. 

“You’re mine now, Doll. And I intend to use you well.” He promises, smirking sinfully as your body burns with desire, his tone dripping with arrogance, supported by the sight of your dishevelled needy state. 

He grabs your wrist, pulling you up into his strong arms as you gasp at his hardness pressing insistently into your abdomen briefly, before he tugs on you, leading you to the ‘waiting’ couch nearby, pushing you onto it before slotting his warm hard body against yours, fitting together so perfectly. Vox can feel you dampening his trousers, his hands already reaching for the hem of your shirt impatiently as your hands remember they exist and you run them up the smooth fabric covering the hard planes of his toned chest, you don’t bother to stifle the moan that escapes you this time, so far gone in the moment. 

“Say my name Doll.” Vox insists. 

“S-Sir?” You manage to choke out as he flings your top away indelicately and tuts amused at your unfocused gaze. 

“No, not ‘Sir’, Say my name, my little Bombshell.” Vox chides, light-heartedly. Teasing your nipples through the lace of your bra, using the slight pain from his claw tips to keep you further enticed... Not that you need any coaxing, as you moan so prettily for him yet again, he notices your cheeks darken again to his immense pride, “Fuck, Doll you’ve got such glorious tits. Now be a good little Sex Kitten and do as you are told.” 

“Vox!” You gasp loudly at his pinch on your sensitive bud. 

“Again.” He demands fiercely, not letting go, screen glitching slightly. 

“Vox,” comes out whined more breathily this time, “oh, mmmmmpppfff” You moan softly, leaning your head back as he fondles you more thoroughly and gently in reward, your body meeting his hands to press your chest further into his touch, begging silently for more. 

Feeling Vox’s finger trail down to your wet panties, you spread your legs wider, desperate and aching, hyperaware of the large hard presence of his cock throbbing against you insistently even as he focuses entirely on your body, a trail of sparks follows his touch stimulating you, the slight burn making you tingle and jolt, he keeps you in his dazzling gaze. 

Vox smirks as he observes your leg's part wider, giving him better access to your drench's wetness. “Look at you, desperate for more, for me, I can see it in your eyes Baby Doll.” He chuckles, his voice dripping with arrogance, his eyes unblinking as he takes everything in, trying to embed it all in his memory banks, unwilling to miss a single frame. 

Vox slides his finger under the fabric of your panties, teasing your entrance before plunging it inside without warning, you gasp and squeak in shock and pleasure, moaning as he slides in with such ease, your body moving to meet his movements obediently. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet.” Vox groans, his own self-control flickering, feeling your walls clench around his finger as he starts gently thrusting in and out, mindful to use his finger pad not the claw to press against the spongy spot of ecstasy for you, your tight heat gripping tightly on just his finger, his cock throbs eager to know just how much squeezing and teasing he’ll have to do to fit inside. 

His other hand continues to tease your nipples, pinching and rolling them between his fingers as he ravishes you. 

“You like that, don’t you?” Vox’s voice low and seductive, not expecting an answer as you moan again as a second finger joins the first, your whole body shaking from the tingles he’s causing within you, your body tightening and loosening with every tiny zap and rub, igniting much more than ever before, your body almost convulsing from the overwhelming stimulation. 

His tongue snakes out to lick his lips, biting down on it in concentration, his cerulean eyes, liquid, and locked onto yours as he watches your every reaction to his ministrations. 

“I could fuck you right here, right now. And anyone outside would be able to hear your desperate little moans.” Vox teases. 

You suddenly realise you’ve been making quite a ruckus, however when you try to shut your mouth and put a once again forgotten hand over it, Vox tuts. 

“Don’t you dare deprive me of this Doll.” Vox moves your hand away from your mouth gently, and places it right on his straining bulge, his hand cupping and encasing yours, firmly his hand holds over the top of yours as he moans, bucking his hips into your hand as you feel his own burning need for you, rutting desperately hard and frighteningly large, pressing your hand against him so you rub him, his other hand not forgetting it’s task for an instant, but you own eyes meet his again so aroused and intimidated, all it does is endear you further to him. 

“Look at what you do to me Doll, can you feel how hard my fucking cock is for you right now.” Vox growls and you shiver and moan again, as a third finger pulls you away from eye contact, the burn of the stretch as he attempts to prepare you for what’s to come, he’s not sure how much patience he has left at this point as it still won’t be enough. 

Vox smirks, his fingers sliding out as he gives into his desires, tracing back up through your wetness, making sure to tease you just enough to leave you wanting more as you whine needily, on the verge of an orgasm as he torments you with glee. His other hand moves upwards, gently gripping your chin and forcing you to meet his gaze yet again as you had been staring at his fingers longingly, not allowing you an inch of reprieve. 

“Look at me, Doll.” He commands, his voice firm and dominant as he holds your gaze. He can see the desire in your eyes, and it only fuels his own. He starts to tug at your bra, pulling it impatiently one handed, before growling and giving up, using a sharp claw to slice it off your body, upwards to reveal your bare breasts. His eyes widen at the sight, and he lets out a low whistle. 

“You’re even more beautiful than I imagined.” He murmurs, his fingers trailing lightly over your nipples before pinching them gently between his thumbs and forefingers again, zapping you gently to give you more burning tingle and your nipples go all puffy in their already pebbled state, as you can’t hold back a very loud moan, to his utter smug delight. 

Making sure you’re watching him, Vox slowly brings his glistening fingers back up to his screen, and you whine as you watch his long tongue wrap around the first digit wickedly, shaking and needy you watch as he hums and greedily devours your essence from his skilled fingers, slightly pricking his tongue in his eagerness, a drop of red escaping his mouth, your eyes following its path down his chin, but oddly doesn’t escape past his screen. 

“Delicious.” He leans in, capturing your lips in another heated kiss as his free hand begins to undo his pants, swiftly releasing his impressive throbbing length. He grins against your lips as he pulls back slightly, his eyes locked onto yours as you whimper scared and aroused at the sight of the veiny, blue member, it's so thick and long you doubt your ability to house such a monster, as you begin to protest. 

Vox silences you with another kiss, this time slow and reassuring, when he allows you mild freedom again, you bite your lip, looking back into his eyes as he stares down at you, you feel warmth suffuse your tingly body, reassured you nod. 

At his encouraging glance, you reach out, tentatively wrapping your hand around his shaft, giving it a gentle squeeze, and smiling shyly as he groans, his eyes half closing. You can feel the heat radiating off him increase, you bite your lip to hold in another moan as Vox’s cock throbs in your hand, twitching eagerly at your attention, you’re so tempted to taste, but shy from the idea at the last moment. 

Vox moans as your hands feel so very soft on his raging erection as he finally feels one of the things he’s been dreaming of for months... Any part of you touching his bare cock willingly, hell if you back down now, he’d have wanking material for the next several decades, after all he had less to go on before with... And that never stopped him. 

He shakes his head slightly to ground himself, refusing to let the past taint what is finally in his grasp, a chance at true pleasure, perhaps even happiness, if he can make the right impression. 

Vox’s eyes flutter closed momentarily as you wrap your other hand around his cock, a low growl rumbling in his throat. He can feel the anticipation building within him, his desire for you reaching new heights. 

“That’s it, Doll.” Vox murmurs, his voice husky and filled with need. “Touch me... Feel how hard I am for you... It’s just us right now, this is all for you, you do this to me every time I see you, I’ve wanted this for so long.” He bites his tongue for giving far too much away too soon luckily not hard enough to hurt. 

He opens his eyes in his panic, meeting your gaze once more as he starts to thrust his hips forward, hoping to distract you enough to not think on his words, grinding his cock against your soft palm. Each movement sends waves of pleasure coursing through him, his cock twitching eagerly in your grasp. 

“Fuck, you’re driving me wild Doll.” Vox groans, his other hand reaching out to caress your leg, inching closer and closer to your dripping cunt once more, wanting just to flip you over and drive into you again and again until neither of you can stand for several days. In his ecstasy he had almost forgotten your pleasure. His trusty thumb brushes against your aching pulsing clit, circling it gently as he continues to grind against your hand, both of you let out a long low moan simultaneously. 

You jolt as a bolt of burning pleasurable electricity zings through your clit, stronger than the ones before as he loses control slightly, with a glitch as evidence, you whine loudly your hips bucking and tears pricking your eyes as you’re basking in the blue glow of his attention, like the sun, but better. The zap had caused you to gush so much the sofa would definitely need replacing as your legs twitch and tremble. 

“You’re so fucking ready for me, aren’t you? Fuck you feel so good.” Growling as he recovers just enough. 

“I can’t wait any longer, Doll.” He whispers, his voice filled with raw desire. “I need to be inside you... Now.” 

You nod rapidly, gasping and complying as he touches you, guiding you, your legs spreading wider without conscious thought, offering yourself to him as he pulls your hips adjusting you almost frantic now. 

“Please!” You beg, desperate for release, the heat between your thighs becoming unbearable, droplets of your juices glistening on your thighs. 

He greedily drinks in the sight of you, his screen fritzing slightly again making you blush at the scrutiny. 

“You sure Doll?” He double checks, sweetly and you melt, nodding, unable to form words. 

His fingers which had been working away at you once more pick up and your head flings back, hurting slightly on the cushioned impact of the sofa arm, as your pussy throbs and contracts as he brings you to the edge, your juices slicking his fingers, proof of your need for him. 

You bite your lip, staring up at him, pleading silently for him to take you, to give you what you need as Vox watches you hungrily pumping his hot hard weeping cock. 

When he finally positions himself at your entrance, you spread your legs wider, straining them with seer need, eager for him not even thinking twice about denying him now, not when you’re so close, he savours the sight for just a moment, his cock poised and ready to enter you. 

As he sinks in slowly, you cry out, arching your back as he loads himself inside you, fighting and teasing the soft clenching cushioned sopping hole every step of the way as it clings to him like his own personalised cocksleeve, only better, filling you completely, stretching you deliciously as you almost cum right then and there. 

You wrap your arms around him, pulling him down to meet your lips in a brutal kiss, needing more, your legs wrapping around the backs of his thighs, pulling him deeper, making you cry out as he impacts your cervix half painfully half pleasurably, the heat from his screen making you crave him more. 

Gripping his shoulders tightly as he begins to move inside you, you could cry in thankfulness as he finally gives you both everything you need, dragging and splashing, moaning and groaning, his thrusts becoming harder and faster with each passing second, lips joined together in a dizzying kiss, you’ve never felt more wanted... More possessed... More pleasured. 

He breaks the kiss panting, his screen fritzing again and buries his face in your neck, angling his and your head just so, to give him access, clearly well practiced by now, just so he can hear your unimpeded sinful gasping moaning and sounds of ecstasy for HIS cock. His teeth scraping against your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake as he claims you in every way possible. 

The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, along with your loud moans and cries of pleasure, mixing together in a symphony of pure ecstasy. Vox’s hands roam your body, squeezing your breasts again just enough to have your moans change pitch, pinching your nipples between his fingers as he continues to ravish you. 

You finally remember your own hands again and cling to his flexing forearms which only serves to bring you both more pleasure with another shared moan in confirmation, your legs not allowing him to drag out for too long, like he would be tempted to tease now he's finally in your heavenly depths. 

Vox groans as he continues to thrust into you, his body coming alive with each movement. He can’t believe he finally has you beneath him, your bodies joined in the most intimate way possible. His hands continue to explore your body, revelling in the softness of your skin, the curves of your body. He can’t get enough of you. 

“Fucking divinity, right here you pretty perfect Little Petal.” Vox moans in your ear. 

He pulls back slightly, his eyes locking onto yours as he begins to thrust harder and faster, the pleasure becoming almost unbearable, building heat in you both as your walls tighten around him, and he begins to throb, fire in your lower abdomens. 

Vox can see the pleasure in your eyes, and it only fuels his own determination. He starts to thrust even harder, each movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through your bodies as he pounds you into oblivion. 

His hands move lower, gripping your hips as he ruts into you, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. His cock pulsing incessantly inside you, driving you closer and closer to the edge. 

Vox leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers hotly. “You’re mine, Baby Doll.” 

His hands continue to explore your body, revelling in the softness of your skin, the curves of your body. He can’t get enough of you, every dip, curve, hard line, and every glistening bead of sweat utterly entrancing. 

He moans, his hips thrusting forward as he pounds into you relentlessly, his cock throbbing inside you, his need for you growing stronger with each thrust. 

He trails his lips down your neck, nipping and sucking at your skin, leaving love bites in his wake, you enjoying every overwhelming sensation as your nails dig into him and you cling for dear life, unable to match his pace and just letting him take control sliding your whole body up and down on his cock at one point. 

“You’re mine, my dear. Mine to fuck, mine to ravish, mine to possess.” Vox growls possessively as proof, his fingers digging into your hips as he continues to pound into you. 

He can’t get enough of you, he needs more, he needs to claim every inch of you, your tight soft cunt feels so perfect wrapped around his cock, just like he knew it would, and Vox is never letting go now he’s had a taste. 

“You’re so fucking tight, I can barely fucking think!” Vox grunts, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he nears his climax, you moan in agreement at how perfect he feels burrowing a Vox shaped imprint deep in your pliant cunt. 

His tongue snakes out, tracing patterns on your skin, leaving a burning electric feeling behind with every lap against you, you moan as you hear it crackle so close to your ear. 

Vox’s breath suddenly hot against your ear as he whispers sweet nothings to you, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. 

“You’re so fucking perfect, so fucking delicious, such a delicate Little Flower aren’t you Pet, you were born to be as beautiful as all the Flora, an entire meadow of Roses could only hope to compare.” 

“Please.... Don’t... Stop... Oh fuck.” You whine, your body convulsing again, feeling his cock spreading you open forcefully with each thrust, it’s maddening, delightful, sinful, heavenly, you can’t think up enough adjectives as your mind also shorts out. Vox watches as your body bounces with the force of his thrusts, your tits mesmerising him. 

He can’t believe he finally has you beneath him, you wet right cunt trying to drag him in deeper as he has to fight each thrust, just to drag his warm member rubbing every inch of it through your hot wet cunt, just to do it all over again, never wanting this to end, yet desperate for it to end all at the same time. 

His eyes flicker down to your breasts, watching as they bounce freely with each thrust. He reaches out, his hand wrapping around one of them, squeezing it gently as he continues to pound into you, feeling as it tries to resist staying in just one place, to pillowy mound making him throb again and you moan feeling everything. 

His other hand moves lower, teasing your clit with his fingertips, rubbing it in slow circles as he continues to thrust into you, your moaning and thrashing increasing to new heights. 

He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers hotly.  

“You like that, don’t you, Doll?” He growls possessively, his fingers pinching your nipple gently. “You love the feeling of my cock stretching you out, filling you up, don’t you? Your cunt is like a little Lotus, so soft and delicate and beautiful like an Azalea... Or perhaps you’re more like Nightshade, as I feel like you could be the death of me” His voice is husky, full of desire and need as he continues to own you. 

His sweet words a massive contrast to how he’s treating your helpless body, not that you’d complain as his cock throbs making your cunt clench again reflexively with another loud moan. 

All you CAN do is moan helplessly your nails finding purchase on his back this time, digging in through his suit jacket, he hadn’t had the patience to discard it in his eagerness to claim you. 

Vox glitches again at your reactions to his rough treatment, enjoying every moment of it, his fans working overtime as he tries to stay in the moment, not wanting to miss even a second. 

“You like that, don’t you, Doll?” He purrs, the glitching making him repeat himself. 

His hands move back up to grab your breasts, obviously an obsession for him at this point his enthrallment with them hard to miss, squeezing them firmly again as he continues to thrust into you relentlessly using them to steady himself. 

“You’re so fucking sexy; I could fuck you for hours and never get tired of this.” His lips crash down onto yours in a hungry kiss, his tongue demanding entrance into your mouth as he ravages you. 

“F-f-fuck... ‘Ellmmmm... ‘Ellllp...” You manage to stammer out as you’re so overcome, he’s so very entertained by your plea for mercy, his hips snap forward, driving his cock as deep into you as he can, hitting that spot that makes you scream in pleasure in response. 

You’re panting, moaning loudly, every muscle in your body quivering, he slows slightly as he sees you trying to speak meaningfully. 

“I’m close... Please... Make me cum...” You gasp, begging him to let you release. 

“Not yet...” He growls, pulling almost all the way out of you before slamming back in, the sudden change in pace making you scream in agonised pleasure, so overstimulated, tears pricking your eyes at his denial, but he doesn’t want this to end, not yet, not now, not ever. 

He does it again, and again, pulling almost fully out before slamming back in with a wet slap, driving you higher and higher until you’re sobbing from pleasure. 

“You’re going to cum for me, right though Baby Doll... All over my cock... Just like that... Soon I promise,” His voice thick with passion. 

He keeps driving you towards the edge, again and again, never letting you fall over, keeping you on the razor’s edge until he’s ready for you to explode. 

You’re a pleading, soaking, begging mess when finally... 

“Cum for me, Doll... Cum for me now!” He demands, his voice a low snarl, his eyes burning with desire, his thumb merciless against your throbbing needy clit, his cock filling every part of you, your walls fighting him every step of the way as you clamp down so tightly. 

As you reach your peak, the sensation washes over you like a tidal wave, suddenly pulling you under. Your whole-body tenses and spasms, your legs kicking and writhing as he continues to thrust into you as you cum hard, and he moans as your walls ripple and clench around him trying to milk him for everything he has desperately. 

A flood of liquid squirts from your pussy, spraying his belly in powerful bursts, trickling down his cock and onto his balls, pooling in his lap and running down your thighs, making a huge mess as his thrusting causes the sweet-smelling droplets to splash on anything in the near vicinity. 

The sound that escapes him is inhuman, his screen going completely blue momentarily. 

Vox gasps, his eyes flickering back in and widening in shock at the sheer amount of fluid that still gushes from you, he knew you were wet, but nothing could have prepared him for this, his eyes glued to the sight of your pleasure, entranced, his hips faltering ever so slightly, before picking up again, determined to wring as much from your bucking body as possible. 

Vox definitely found a new obsession as the floral scent hits him, strong enough for him to actually smell as it fills the entire office, he’s never needed anything more, and it was something he had no idea he’d ever wanted, moaning at the sheer warmth and feel of your squirting cunt, it was utterly divine, heaven could suck it, because he just found his. 

He keeps trying to control the fritzing of his screen, it would be a crime to miss a moment of this utter glorious display. 

He groans as he continues to thrust into you, maintaining his pace, his fingers rubbing more gently on your overly sensitive clit, prolonging your orgasm as he chases his own release within your spasming cunt. 

Vox’s eyes roll back in pleasure as he finally allows himself to let go and cum, pumping his load deep inside you, his hot seed mingling with your wetness, filling you up completely, even spilling out the sides of his embedded cock and flowing out of you in thick spurts as he finishes. 

You moan as you feel the burning sensation of his cum spilling inside you triggering a small involuntary convulsion within you as you scream helplessly as his cum makes you milk him for every last drop, the static electricity seeming to force your body to take every ounce... If only you could breed, the swift thought crosses Vox’s mind momentarily. 

Vox collapses onto you, his chest heaving as he pants heavily, cock still buried deep inside you, arms wrapping around you as he kisses you deeply, tongue exploring your mouth lazily, as he thrusts his hips lazily, making sure to fuck every bit of his cum inside you even deeper. 

You’re panting, moaning weakly, completely spent, your body still tingling from the force of your orgasm, trying desperately to recover enough to at least think straight. 

Vox’s still moving inside you, you vaguely register, driving his cock deeper with each tiny thrust, the pleasure is too much for the both of you, but in the best way possible. 

“So good... So, fucking good...” Vox murmurs against your lips, his breath hot against you, far hotter than you'd ever felt before, you could almost burn yourself on him but miraculously he doesn’t seem to be causing any harm. 

He keeps thrusting seemingly reluctant to stop despite the little jolts of his whole body indicating his own overstimulation, your own lax body matching his jolting with its own. 

He breaks the kiss to press his flat smouldering forehead against yours, his eyes locked with your well fucked gaze, the intensity in his ocean deep eyes taking your breath away. 

But his screen dims enough so he doesn’t hurt your vision, and it helps him begin the cooling down process much faster. 

“You’re mine now, Doll...” Vox whispers possessively, his voice husky with desire and satisfaction. “I’m not letting go of you without a fight, you better believe, the Sins themselves couldn’t pry you from me now.” 

He eventually pulls out slowly, mindfully of your likely sore body, his cock sliding out of you with a heavy thudding wet sound as it hits his thigh, dripping your combined fluids onto the floor as he stands. 

“Y-yes sir.” You manage to shakily pant, your legs trembling and dripping. At his warning look you correct immediately, “V-Vox.” 

“Much better Little Petal.” His suave confidence returning now with ease, he’s the big boss man himself again. 

Vox chuckles as he sees you watching the swaying of his limp cock as he moves, not a clue what you’re thinking, but he likes the look in your eyes, so he starts taking off his clothes properly. 

This time he’s determined to take his time with you and show you what more you could expect from him, his half hard cock standing proudly trying to regain its attentive state already. A much faster refectory time than he’s even used to, he’s definitely not done with you yet... 

Vox smirks, seeing the look of surprise and apprehension on your face, he decided he loved surprising you... Especially with his cock, it’s his new favourite thing. His grin dangerous, promising to devour you.

“What? Did you seriously think I was done with you already Doll? No... Not now I finally have you. It’s late, and you’re Mine.” 

[itsactuallycorrine]

inertia

buddie; 1K words; feelizings realizations; s08e06 spec

If Buck still had his math superpowers, he’s sure he could’ve told everyone how statistically unlikely it is for them to be on a second call where a kid fell down a well.

Even without the powers, he has an inkling: really, really, really fucking unlikely.

And yet here they are, staring at another kid stuck in a pipe, and icy cold dread ties Buck’s stomach into knots the minute Eddie opens his mouth.

Bobby says something about Eddie not fitting, and while Eddie, Bobby, and Chim are brainstorming solutions, Buck knows he needs to get his head back in the game, needs to be here, in the moment, doing his job.

Instead, his mind is cast over four years back, his eyes watch the sky for signs of a storm, his ears ring with the memory of a deafening crack, and his heart beats desperately against the cage of his ribs, pounding and pounding like it’s looking for an escape, any way out. 

“You good?” Hen murmurs to him, sliding him a solicitous glance and nudging her arm into his. 

Mouth dry, he nods. “Why wouldn’t I be?” he manages, and it convinces neither of them. 

Hen doesn’t call him out on it, though, just raises one brow. “He’s not going back down—he’s all right. No cut lines today.”

Buck’s still nodding, doesn’t know if he’ll be able to stop. An object in motion and all that, Newton’s first law, he vaguely remembers from one of Christopher’s science assignments last year. “Yeah, yeah,” he says. “I know.” Nodding, nodding. 

She frowns, brows drawn low in concern, before a small smile pulls at her lips. “That was the first time I suspected, you know,” she says, quiet and teasing, and it’s so unexpected, he’s finally able to force his head to stop, to tilt it her way instead.

“Suspected what?”

“That maybe you weren’t as straight as we all assumed.”

It’s even more unexpected. He gapes at her. “What? Why?”

That skeptical brow goes up again. “Really?” she asks, bone dry. “You can’t think of any reason why someone might have seen you that night and suspected that maybe, just maybe, you felt a little more than friendship for your coworker?” When he stares at her, lost, she softens, grasping his arm as if to steady him for the next blow. “Buck, you were wailing and clawing at the ground like you’d just lost the love of your life.” 

Her words strum at something, buried deep down inside him, and its sonorous echoes bounce within the boundaries of his skin, making his head ring. He inhales sharply through his nose, casting his gaze away, from her, from the team, from the call. It’s not like he doesn’t remember that, remember Bobby bodily hauling him up from ground, holding Buck as he sobbed. Remember them talking to him in their gentle hysterical-victim-handling voices, assuring him that no one had given up on Eddie and they were doing what they could to get him out. Remember the heady relief of Eddie showing up on his own, cracking jokes like he hadn’t almost died, radiating cold and hardly able to stand. 

It had felt like a miracle. It still did. They’d all had their share of them, before and since, but that had been the first time it’d happened for Eddie, to Eddie, since they’d met. The first time Buck had to sit with the idea of losing him, of being left behind in a very real and permanent way, one from which there was no coming back. 

Fully-realized, post-therapy, semi-mature Buck can admit now that he’d never given himself the time or space to process that. Instead, he’d just put it away, on to the next thing. There had been Red, and then Abby’s return, and, in retrospect, an obvious dotted line that connected all three of these events, drawn in tears and sweat and blood and abandonment issues. 

But that didn’t mean what Hen was insinuating. He shakes his head. “It was Eddie,” he says, helpless. “I didn’t—I’m not… I can’t. Hen, I can’t.” It’s the last thing he needs on top of everything going on between him and Tommy, and Christopher still being gone, and all the other ripples finally calming in the wake of last spring. He cannot afford an ill-timed revelation right now.

Her lips part as she stares at him. “Buck, I didn’t mean—” she starts, only to be cut off by Chim’s urgent call of, “Hen, need you over here.” But still she hesitates until Buck gives her a nod. “We’ll talk more later,” she promises, and there is nothing Buck wants less, so he ducks her the rest of shift, and doesn’t even change out of his uniform before he takes off the next morning. 

In his loft, he struggles to keep his mind blank as he showers and changes, but as soon as he lays down, sleep eludes him and the floodgates open.

He closes his eyes against it, the childish thought that if he can’t see it, it can’t hurt him. But it’s there, and real, spilling out and touching everything, an unstoppable rising tide, and Buck curls up into a ball as it picks him up and carries him along, gasping for breath as it buffets him from every side. He wants to fight, wants to push it back, but it’s too much, years and years of moments big and small, touches, looks, words, deeds. 

It’s You can have my back any day and There’s nobody in this world I trust with my son more than you and You act like you’re expendable, but you’re wrong and You don’t have to be anything for anybody.

It’s fond eye rolls and soft smiles and secrets shared and fears unburied and shoulder touches and the right kind of teasing. 

It’s fear and joy and laughter and tears and friendship and grief and comfort and…love. Always love. 

Hen was right; he had been acting like the love of his life had been buried alive, because he had. Because that’s what Eddie was—is—for Buck. 

Fuck.

ao3

[johnwickb1tsch]

The Girl Next Door - X

A Constantine x FemVampire!Reader (feat John Wick!) fic based on this imagine. all chapters warnings: nsfw, blood, biting, violence divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more gif and pics from pinterest

he tastes like candy, he’s so beautiful -Awful, Hole 🤘

10. little bird

Wick says nothing more, just holds your gaze, and again you feel like the floor is going out from beneath you. You’ve become accustomed to your cooler body temperature, but now for the umpteenth time tonight you feel hot beneath the collar. 

“It’s…just a coincidence.” 

“Surely.” He smirks at you, laughing at you, deep down.

Asshole. 

One extremely fine, extremely dangerous, asshole. 

Glaring at the two of you eye-fucking eachother, Constantine clears his throat. “Are we trying to find don Juan or not? Otherwise, I should get to Midnite’s.” 

You look to John. Despite the energy you’d shared with him, he still has dark circles under his eyes, still seems just this side of fragile. You remember how much blood you had to take from him last time, to call up that much excess power, that it just felt like you were floating above your corporeal body. You’re not sure he can spare it, now. If you sent him to an early grave with blood loss you know you would walk yourself right out into the sun. 

On the other hand, there is Wick, robust, full of blood, and who you wouldn’t feel guilty at all about taking down a peg or two. His smile widens as he notices you assessing him like a piece of meat, his powerful body sprawled in the rickety old chair–maybe he wouldn’t be so smug, however, if he knew exactly what you were thinking. 

“Depends,” you answer John. “Will you let me in, or are you going to keep stonewalling me?”

“I’m not exactly in the habit of leaving my aura hanging wide open. It leads to bad things in my business,” he grumbles. 

You suppose, considering his occupation, that’s understandable. But you also think he’s making excuses to shut you out.  

“Uh huh.” 

You cross the cracked linoleum floor to him. He’s so tall that you’re nearly eye to eye, even with him sitting, and even though you already fed once tonight, just looking at him like this kindles that insatiable hunger in your belly, a lick of desire that curls in you like smoke from an opium pipe. Heady. Wonderful. Addictive. Shields up or not, you know he feels it too in the bond between you, his lips parting with a gasp, his pupils dilating to turn his dark irises purest black.  

He takes your hand, and the energy that ignites between you as his long fingers slide into yours fills the dilapidated room with something bright and charged. It even makes Wick sit up straighter in his chair. It feels like sunshine on your face, when you were still human, and you cannot suppress a sigh of enjoyment. 

They both seem surprised when you hold out your other hand to Wick. “Come here.” The vampire hunter obeys, his footsteps heavy and deliberate as he approaches, his presence a solid line of warmth at your back.  

With an almost quizzical look, Wick takes your hand. His fingers are calloused, and strong, and his touch feels like a live wire gripped in your hands. Reincarnated sweethearts or not–your magic likes him, and you think you can work with that. 

Constantine’s frown as he watches this exchange is thunderously contemptuous.  “We gonna sing kumbaya now, baby?” he gripes at you. 

“No. We’re going to find don Juan, and Mr. Wick here is going to cut off his fucking head. Got a problem with that?”

You see the corner of his mouth tick for the barest second, his only indication of mirth before he throws himself wide open to you, and the mingled energies of these two powerful men rips through you like an electric shock. 

♰♰♰

Maybe John Constantine is ill, but you were a fool to think him weak. One mouthful of blood taken carefully from his wrist is so power-charged you practically see stars. It’s possible that adding Wick’s rich blood to the cocktail nearly renders you drunk, so giddy you think you might hover physically off the ground. But the two men on either side of you keep you anchored, vying even now in their holds upon you. 

It’s funny, maybe, that you thought it would keep things tame, drinking from the wrist. But there is an agonizing tension amidst the three of you, unsatisfied lust and painful longing. It all adds a particular spice to this conjuring you work as the focus between them, and you are able to rise with barely a thought this time.

It’s more familiar, this second time you wander through the minds of the city, and you are more careful as you sift through them like grains of rice, in search of that one poisoned seed. You think you are successful more than once, before realizing they are just don Juan’s awful progeny, but not the original root of that particular brand of evil. 

You are surprised, when in your wandering you encounter Angela, the detective John Constantine so secretly fancied. She is in her apartment, working at her laptop. There is a glow of such goodness about her that is rare to find in humans. Her aura is practically a halo, it shines so bright. She is warm, and smart, and strong, and it’s no wonder John likes her, you think to yourself sadly. 

You probe a little deeper, finding that at this moment she is thinking about John. She likes him too, though she’s puzzled as to why. That is a feeling you understand all too well. She must feel your presence, looking up as though there is something in the room with her, reaching out to put a hand on her service issue Glock on the desk next to her. She’s already had quite a scare after her first encounter with real demons, and guiltily you back off, not wanting to upset her.  

You are about to give up your search, feeling that you have stretched yourself to the limit, when at last you sense him. That seething, cloying dark energy that follows don Juan like a cloud. You are more cautious in your approach this time, keeping your distance as you observe him. It seems he retreated north into the mountains, to a chic but almost quaint little house tucked into the hillside. He sits beside a glittering swimming pool, smoking and brooding. The moment you sense him turning your way you retreat, returning to your body, too quickly perhaps. 

It’s disorienting, after being weightless, to wrangle with your flesh and bones, like it’s hard to get all the pieces of you to mesh back again. You would have fallen, if not for two pairs of strong hands steadying you. You lean back on a broad chest. Constantine is before you, you recognize, which makes the imposing wall behind you still Wick. You are either the luckiest girl in the world, or you are cursed. You still haven’t decided which yet. 

“Back off,” snarls Constantine to the dhampir, pulling you into his arms. 

Wick growls, and you can't help but feel like the bone between two cranky dogs. You really shouldn't be enjoying it so much.

“Are you alright?” 

You think you’re fine, but you’re tired. You didn’t travel that far, last time, or search with such purpose in mind. It took a lot more energy than you thought it would.

“He’s in Laurel Canyon,” you whisper against Constantine’s chest. “North end. A little cottage with stone facing, clay tile roof. There’s a bronze statue of horses out front.” You think back, and realize you even remember the house number. You manage to say it out loud before the room starts to spin. Are you going to be sick? “I don’t feel good.” 

“I warned you,” grouses Constantine, even while his hand sits protectively on the back of your head. 

“She did well,” defends Wick. “This will save me time.” 

Sitting back down, Constantine pulls you into his lap, away from the dhampir. You hate to admit how good it feels to curl into him like a child who’s had a nightmare, his arms around you.   

“Great,” he snarks to Wick. “Feel free to go.”

Wick snorts in answer, still looking down at you. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

Reluctantly you nod against Constantine’s collarbone, closing your eyes. “I’ll be fine. Will you be fine by yourself?”

Wick laughs lowly at this, but not unkindly. “No worries, ptichka, no more flying around for you. I will give don Juan your regards.” 

“Please, kick him in the nuts for me,” you grumble. The thought of that awful vampire finally getting his comeuppance is darkly satisfying. 

“Would you like me to bring you his head?” 

“Ew.” 

Wick laughs, and you hear his footfalls as he crosses the kitchen to the crumpled vampire in the corner. You’d almost forgotten about the poor bastard. “I will see you soon,” says the dhampir, winking at you before dragging the informant out by his ankles. 

A strange quiet settles over the apartment, without the ominous dark energy of John Wick filling the room. 

You should be scared of him–but you kind of miss him.

“Alone at last,” grouses Constantine, his hold on you tightening. 

You laugh a little, snuggling into the bend of his neck. You start to feel better, sitting like this with him. His hand drifts to your thigh, tracing the hem of his shirt absently. “Was this really the only thing you could come up with to wear?” 

“You don’t like it, John?” you tease sleepily. 

“I like it a lot. For my eyes only.”

“Hmm. I think that’s something only a boyfriend gets to say,” you dare ripost.

He snorts in answer. “If I was your boyfriend, would I get to tell you what to do?” 

“No.” 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He coughs, and only a beat later do you realize it was a laugh. 

 But then he can’t help but ruin the moment: 

“I thought the dhampir was your new boyfriend, Miss I’ll come visit you in New York,” he complains in an insulting falsetto.  

You, in turn, just roll your eyes. “Excuse you, but I saved you from getting your head lopped off. You’re welcome, by the way.” 

Then, he has to go and turn serious on you. “Baby, when I’m gone–” You whine, hating hearing him say it aloud, but he talks over you. “It’s going to happen, y/n. You’ve got to accept that. And when it does, you cannot take up with him. He is bad news. Call it…my dying wish.” 

You’re smart enough to bite down on your first response, which is, ‘he doesn’t seem so bad.’  

It turns out you don’t have any reply at all, and he watches you with an intensity that makes you fear he can read your mind. You’re not sure why he takes mercy on you, saying more gently, “You can’t save him, sweetheart. Any more than you can save me.” 

You look down, because his laser-like gaze is too much, even for you. 

Part of the reason you want to get this thing solved so badly is because you hope you can save him. Maybe with the help of modern medicine, and your own combined magic…something might work out. Buy him some time, at least. He already seems better, after finally letting you into your bond earlier that night. 

Maybe he’s resigned, but you haven’t completely given up hope. 

“I just…want to get this thing resolved,” you admit. “So you can rest.”  

He lifts one of those angular dark brows, clearly thinking that the only rest waiting for him is the permanent kind. But he doesn’t insist again that you accept the inevitable truth of his demise. Sometimes, when you care about someone, you let them get away with those little lies that keep them sane through the day to day grind of life. Maybe he realizes that you need this, so that you don’t run down the street screaming at God and anyone else unfortunate enough to get in your path.  

“Sure, honey.” He surprises you again, when he presses a tender kiss to your forehead. “I’m going to put you to bed, and I have to go to Midnite’s.”

You know the kittenish sound that escapes your lips sounds ridiculous. “Let me go with you.”

“You’re wiped out. Stay here and rest.” 

“No.” You sit up, feeling a little better. Tired, but better. 

“Yes,” he insists, narrowing his eyes at you. 

“I’m just going to follow you, if you try to leave me here.” 

“For once, can you not be so stubborn when I’m trying to protect you?” 

Your lips dance as you try to suppress a smile, lifting an eyebrow. “I could ask the same thing of you?” 

Another exasperated growl escapes him, and your heart sings when he pulls you into another kiss, that golden rope between you pulsing with energy, singing with light. He pulls back to look at you, his pupils blown wide. You wonder if it occurs to him, that this could be his last chance to be with a woman, if things outside this crumbling apartment do not go well. Or maybe, just maybe, he finds you as irresistible as you find him. Either way, when he tangles his long fingers in your hair and kisses you again, you are all too ready to lean in. 

You’re not sure how it’s possible, that this man simultaneously breaks your heart, and puts you back together again. 

When he stands with you in his arms you give a sound of protest, worried about the extra exertion.

“I’m fine, y/n,” he tells you with a rare gentleness that to you is precious as any gemstone. “I’ve got you.”     

He carries you to the bed in the next room, and you are more than happy to let him have his way with you. 

______

*ptichka - little bird

[mr-asa-jones]

There is something about the smell of beeswax and polish on the wood in my study. The scent of linseed oil on my tawse and canes. The hint of rubber on the plimsolls. The faint smell of a naughty girl's freshly laundered lowered knickers and the dainty smell of her soap.

There is also something about the tick of an old clock, the ting and tang of old cast iron radiators and piping. The creak of ancient floorboards. The sound of a sniffing naughty girl.

The shadows on the floor on a late afternoon.

When I have just spanked a naughty girl...

.....almost naked because she has disgraced the uniform, time passes by with all the sounds and smells of calmness after the storm of a long hard spanking.

Visitors come and go, the girl cringes with each entry of one.

Then...after a while, and looking at the sunlight on her trembling bare bottom a while...

I give her a dire warning of what could be. Tell her to dress, and to go back to her class.

Sometimes discipline at Saint Helena High School for Wayward Girls can almost be artistically sublime.

Back home I reflect on the heady mix, and feel grateful I am a Headmaster at a school for delinquent young women.

Asa Jones

[comatosebunny09]

fun-sized | leon k.

summary: somehow, musing about being short lead to an obsession with leon’s boobs.

genres: romance, humor

cw: suggestive themes, reader is short, leon is a cheeky little sh!t, stream of consciousness, not proofread

music inspo: if - r5

Being short isn’t all bad. Sometimes, it has its perks.

Strangers pity you in the supermarket, for example. Watch with fond smiles and swelling hearts while you struggle to fetch a box of Froot Loops from the topmost shelf—it would be the last box with marshmallows, too. 

As your poor little calves sting and your fingers strain and you whimper pitifully for added effect, a leggy gentleman often swoops in to save the day.

You don’t have to duck beneath low tree branches when jogging through the park, either. Not at all fazed when your taller coworkers play limbo to avoid a splinter to the face.

Being fun-sized also comes in handy when dodging chainsaws and blades on a mission. Helps that you’re an agile little spider monkey, but you don’t have to do some fancy footwork to avoid having your head lopped off. You can simply duck.

Sure, you have to climb onto your countertops to reach the spice rack. Need a step ladder to retrieve plates from the cupboard. And maybe you have to put a little more oomph into your jumps to reach the pullup bar at the precinct. But the best part of being petite is, well...

Having the best view in the house.

That view being Leon S. Kennedy’s bodacious tits.

They flex invitingly in your peripheral whilst he reaches overhead to fetch a coffee mug. Doesn’t help that his shoulder rigs cup his bosom just right. And, of course, his dress shirt is tapered, accentuating the shape of his Adonis-like pecs.

Yeah, you could be a little more subtle with your ogling. Nearly scorch yourself with piping coffee, too preoccupied with Leon’s nipples that pebble in the cool air conditioning. But, he’s warm-bodied and virile beside you. Exudes the heady aroma of gun oil and cashmere. Stubble dapples his chin, and the golden slither of collarbone playing peek-a-boo with your vision beneath his button-up, well…

It takes every bit of you not to bite your lip, grateful the break-room’s free of any other occupants. It’s embarrassing enough eying your superior like a piece of prime rib.

Leon’s Adam’s apple bobs, causing you to instinctively swallow. Don’t even know when you stopped breathing, static filling the space between your ears. The definitive click of the cupboard being shut brings you back to the present. And you would nearly leap out of your skin, caught like the proverbial child rifling through the cookie jar.

His chuckle tinges the air, warm milk and honey to your ears. Tingles in the tips of your toes. Sparkles in the crown of your head whilst your cheeks flood with heat.

“Think you dropped something,” Leon drawls on the edge of your ear. Incredibly close, the heat radiating off his torso, branding your arm as he reaches around to pluck the coffee pot from your shaky fingers.

“W-what’d I drop?” you sputter, scanning the floor like a fool. Your gaze settles on Leon’s chest when another chuckle cascades from his lips. When a battle-worn finger creeps beneath your chin, angling your head back. His eyes swim with mischief, glittering like sea glass.

“Your jaw, sweetheart,” he croons as if taking part in a naughty secret.

You glimpse Leon’s crow’s feet before he draws away. Miss the warmth he emits, your voice corked in your throat. You watch pathetically, rooted to the floor whilst he ambles towards the break-room’s entrance, a hand stuffed in his pocket.

Before he crosses the threshold, Leon jests over his shoulder, “Gonna watch me like that; you should buy me dinner first.”

It’s out before you can think, hopefulness prickling your limbs. “W-what do you like to eat?”

It serves its purpose, stopping him in his tracks. The smirk he dons when he faces you again siphons your breath.

He stalks towards you before you can process things, soundless as a feline. Places his mug on the counter, spilling over you like liquid fire. Your back collides with the wall; didn’t even notice how close you were to it. Shiver as he sweeps an errant lock of hair behind your ear, suddenly caging you in with brawny arms on either side of your head.

You shrink beneath his power whilst he leans in. Jerk when he gathers your cheek into his palm, leaning down to whisper obscenities against the pulse point behind your ear.

Your knees buckle, and your lashes shutter from the absurdity of it all. From the sodden promises murmured against your skin, causing your tongue to loll about in your mouth.

Leon departs after whittling you down. Leaves you boneless, every egotistical ounce of him filtering from the room alongside him.

“So, dinner at seven?” you quip to his retreating back in the hallway, battling the thundering of your heart in your rib cage.

[firelifeglass]

One of my Galaxy Spoons with Earth Marble

"Look again at that dot. That's here. That's home. That's us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every "superstar," every "supreme leader," every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there-on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam."

-Carl Sagan

[denpa-dere]

ALRIGHT BELPHIE FUCKERS COME GET UR FOOD

i hope i got his characterization right! he's a tricky one for me.

___

gn!mc x belphegor

description: NSFW, you and belphie get stoned and have some fun.

warnings: drug use, belphie calls you dumb as foreplay

___

"Found you," you said, popping your head into the attic. Belphie jumped, nearly dropping his glass water pipe, scrambling to secure the piece before it could slip between his fingers.

"Don't DO that!" He spluttered, then choked.

"Don't pout," you chided him, shutting the door behind you and making your way across the room. He glared at you, eyes red and glassy, wet from his previous coughing fit. The attic was dim, lit only by an abundance of fairy lights, and the air hung thick and heavy with a heady, herbal smell you found somewhat comforting in its familiarity.

"Let me hit that," You plopped down onto the bed beside him. He obliged, passing you the pipe and a lighter. Belphie's expression softens when you light up. It's cute, he thinks, but he's not sure why.

"That's how it's done," You exhaled easily, "Big bong-rip Belphie."

Belphie snorted, "You're so stupid."

"The stupidest," You agreed.

The demon flopped backwards against his mattress, arms splayed wide.

"I thought you were going out to that new club opening with Asmo?" He asked, eyes growing heavy.

"I wasn't really feeling up to it," You took another hit from the pipe, "Thought I'd come spend some time with you, instead."

Belphie felt his cheeks warm. His body was buzzing watching smoke curl in the air above his head. You set the pipe on the floor before falling back to match his pose. A brief whiff of your shampoo tickled his nose and had him reaching for you instinctively.

"C'mere," He mumbled, pulling you against his chest. It didn't take much convincing. Or, at least, it wouldn't have if you had much choice in the matter to begin with. You always smelled so good and right now all Belphie wanted was to bury himself in it.

He wound himself around you in the way he always did, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. Your body felt warm and pliable next to his, skin so soft against his lips. He couldn't help but sink his teeth in.

"Belphie!" You gasped, senses heightened. He gave a little groan in response, sucking, flicking his tongue against the tender mark. You shiver when he pulls you tighter to roll his hips against yours, thin sweatpants leaving nothing to the imagination.

You repeat his name, quieter this time, carding your hands through his hair. The seventh-born was deceptively strong, despite his slight build. He continued his gentle assault on your neck, nipping at your collar bone, holding you firmly in place to better rut against you. Your face burned feeling him rub his bulge at the apex between your legs.

Belphie huffed, breath hot against your skin, letting out a needy whine. You grabbed at the back of his sweatshirt, and he relents just enough space for you to snake your hands inside. Your fingers leave a trail of goosebumps across the pale expanse of his back and shoulders.

"You're so sensitive," you tease, a hair above a whisper. You can feel his lips curl into a smile, teeth brushing against your flesh.

"Want you," He pants, voice raspy from smoke, breaths growing ragged. It was your turn to oblige, and he lifts his arms eagerly when he feels you start to shift his shirt up and over. You want to take a moment to appreciate the pretty boy next to you, but he quickly dives back into you, locking his legs around your waist and rolling to pull you on top of him. You bite your lip, unable to completely hide the goofy grin threatening to break through. He was too cute, you thought, pulling your shirt over your head, tossing it aside unceremoniously. He grabbed your wrists, placing your hands on his chest looking up at you expectantly from beneath heavy lashes. Cute and spoiled.

"Hey, I said no pouting," You purr, leaning in to kiss him. It was a trap you fell into willingly.

Belphie was always a little rough with you, and once you were in his iron grip, there was no backing out. He tangled his fingers in your hair, pushing his tongue against the seam of your lips, demanding access that you grant immediately. He moaned into your mouth at the taste of your tongue, a small wet patch pooling on his light grey bottoms. You hook your fingers into the elastic waistband, shimmying his pants and underwear beneath his hips in one go. More goosebumps crop up along Belphie's thighs, exposed to the cool attic air. The two of you fumble together, your hands on his cock, teeth clacking together in a messy kiss that is half desperation half giggles.

Your thoughts blur, head feeling like it's filled with cotton balls instead of brains. Your pants are off, though you're not quite sure when or how it happened. You straddle him, drinking in the sight of his body twisting with need beneath you.

"Touch me more," He whines, and how could you say no to that?

You shuffle back a little, lift his cock to your lips, and swallow him whole in one fluid motion. He gasps at the feeling of your plush lips wrapped around him, wringing the bed sheets between clenched fists. You brace yourself, putting weight against his hips when he tries to buck further into your throat.

You bob your head along his length, tongue twisting to pull more sinful noises from your pactmate. Despite your best efforts, Belphie thrusts into your mouth. You try to keep pace, but can sense the sick satisfaction radiating off him when you gag, leaving his cock slick with drool.

He grinds against your mouth, "Fuck me now." It's not a request. You scramble to get into position, and Belphie makes a mental note to tease you later for your shamelessness.

You line up the head of his cock to press against your entrance. Belphie chews his bottom lip and gives a few shallow thrusts out of his control. Finally, finally, you allow him to sink into you, and he feels like he's melting.

You take a moment to steady yourself and adjust, despite Belphie squirming in protest. He paws at you, hands roaming from your hips to chest to pinch your pert nipples, rolling the sensitive buds between his fingers. The sensation mixed with how full you feel sends you reeling. You rock your hips, slowly at first, but the movement is as much permission as Belphie needs to take things further. He grips you by the hips, throwing your balance off-kilter. You brace yourself, arms on either side of his head, stars bursting behind your eyes as he fucks up into you.

Sweat plasters Belphie's bangs to his forehead, his previous demanding tone replaced by low, wordless grunts. He stares intently at the place where you connect, pupils blown wide. The way you enveloped him was too much, too soft and tight, warm walls dragging around him while he throbbed inside of you. He dug his nails into the fat of your ass leaving little crescent moon shaped marks along your skin. He wasn't going to last, not with the way your body slotted so perfectly against his, like you were made for him.

From the erratic way you bounced on his cock, he figured you weren't going to last much longer, either. You clenched around him, unable to do much more than whimper and be used.

"Gonna cum," You nearly sob. Belphie sucks air in through his teeth, feeling that familiar tightening in his core that signaled he was a goner. He reaches between your bodies to toy with your sex. It's enough to push you over the edge.

You cry out, body pulsing as your orgasm overtakes you in waves, leaving you a pliant, dripping, trembling mess. So pretty for him, he thinks before his mind goes fuzzy. He bites down on your shoulder, getting lost in the feeling of your warmth and the salty taste of your skin as you take his cum deep inside.

Your movement together slows, the only sound being your heavy breathing punctuated by the occasional creak of the bedframe. When you are sure he's spent, you collapse on top of Belphie, who wraps his arms around you, caging you against him.

He's asleep, you soon realize. And you're trapped, again.

[threadbearsweater]

togame jo x reader. a repost from the old blog. sfw, tw: alcohol, marijuana use

It isn't that you're not having a good time. You are, you're just a little overwhelmed with the volume of the music and the incessant shouts and laughter of a few too many people crowded into a confined space. You lean over and tell your friend that you need some air, and she pouts a little, resting her hand on the side of your face.

"Want me to come with?" she asks. You can tell she's trying to be sympathetic, but her eyes sparkle with the excitement of someone who loves being in the middle of a bustling crowd. She's thriving, her body moving almost unconsciously to the music, her cheeks dusted pink from the drinks she's consumed so far.

"I'm good," you say, cocking your thumb over your shoulder toward the sliding glass doors that lead out onto a quiet looking patio. "I'm just gonna go take a breather."

She nods in understanding and squeezes your hand before she's whisked away by a tall, light-haired guy with an easy smile. They've been making eyes at each other all evening, so you silently give her your blessing and head for the exit.

As soon as the warm, summer evening air hits your face, you suck in a deep breath and blow it out slowly, letting your back sink against the exterior wall of the house. Face tilted to the sky, eyes closed, you don't notice the figure standing a few feet away, his posture similar to yours.

"My thoughts exactly," Togame says, exhaling a cloud of smoke. It hangs like a curtain in the atmosphere around you. You're a little startled, a little embarrassed (though you don't quite know why). Your unlikely companion grins and holds out a little ceramic pipe to you, the embers contained in the bowl still glowing from his last hit. His brow lifts with the corner of his mouth. "Might help, you know, quiet your mind a little."

You've seen him before here and there, though he's definitely not part of your regular social circle. He's always surrounded by a group of guys that seem intimidating because they're so effortlessly cool and confident; he stands a head taller than most of them and carries himself with such nonchalance that you believe nothing could ever get under his skin. Now, you sort of understand why.

"Well, I'm not gonna twist your arm about it," he says with a shrug after you fail to accept his offer. He lights the pipe again, the herbs glow orange, and he sucks deep and slow. The peace that washes over his features makes you envious- of the weed, both how it makes him feel and how you wish you could experience the same, heady, full body relaxation that he must be experiencing.

Feeling bold enough to accept his invitation, you push yourself away from the wall and take the pipe from his hand when he offers it to you a second time. He lights it for you when you raise it to your lips, and you inhale deeply, holding it in your lungs as long as you can before exhaling long and slow, coughing a little from the tickle in the back of your throat.

"That's what I thought," he says.

You're the only two people within eyesight. You can hear murmurs of a quiet conversation somewhere a few yards away, but you figure whoever it is desires their own privacy, so you keep your attention on this dark-haired guy with the good weed. A couple more hits and you feel weightless. Laughter fizzes in your chest like bubbles and every breath you take feels like an otherworldly experience.

"I only come to these things because my buddies like to drag me along," he admits.

You giggle. It's a reflex at this point. "I came because my friend said I needed a night out."

"Did you?"

"I mean, yeah. But-" You gesture aimlessly toward the house, where the sound of the music is muffled now by your heartbeat and the cotton in your brain. "This isn't exactly my idea of relaxation."

He nods. "I feel you. I'd rather be on a rooftop somewhere, away from all of this."

You squint at him, disbelieving. "You're popular, though. You must be fun to hang out with."

"You don't know me, sweetheart." He's almost wistful when he turns his attention back to the sky.

I'd like to, you think, and hope somehow that he'll hear you.

You share a look with him, and for a moment you think he's about to lean in and kiss you. You think about the guy you're seeing and how he's never looked at you the way this guy is looking at you right now. Just ten minutes ago you met him, but there's something magnetic about the way he seems to draw you into his space, how he's able to read you without knowing you at all. What you don't know about Jo Togame is that he's been watching you for a while now. He sees how you smile, how easily you laugh with your friends, how you seem to care deeply for everyone around you even when they don't deserve your affection.

Just as you think he's about to go in for the kill, the sliding glass door opens and your best friend spills out into the night, instantly killing the vibe. "There you are!" she slurs, stumbling over her feet until she falls into your arms, nearly knocking you over. Togame catches you, and you want to melt back into him, but he lifts you up so that you're able to wrangle the girl more effectively.

"We have to go," she says, sobbing into your shoulder.

"What? Why?" you ask, pushing her hair back away from her face, drying her tears with the palms of your hands.

She launches into a convoluted story about dancing with a guy that wasn't her boyfriend, but it wasn't like that and she had to dance because it was her favorite song and her boyfriend was in the bathroom and how was she supposed to just sit by and let the song happen without moving her body? And anyway, her boyfriend left without her and she just wants to go home and forget this whole night ever happened. Meanwhile, Jo Togame's hands are on your hips and you're still lightheaded from the weed, but now your heart is pounding because his hands are so broad and warm.

"Take her home," he whispers, lips so close to your ear you'd swear you feel them brush against your skin. "She needs you."

You leave without getting his number and spend the next couple of weeks looking for him in every crowd.

He's doing the same when it comes to you.

[briefalpacashark]

=The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare=

=Plus a Woman or Two=

Upon the Maid Honour the four gentlemen sat around their communication device. Hasey listened closely on the headphones writing down the translated morse code. ”Rendezvous confirmed. Arriving by Aunt Hilda,” Hasey read out as they all turned to Gus, who smirked. ”Aunt Hilda?” Freddy asked. ”When we were children, we were looked after by our aunt. Mean old woman. We called her the enemy. It means dear old pat will be arriving in an enemy vessel,” Gus seemed to ponder the strangeness to it just as the others did. ”Enemy vessel. Hell be bringing Nazis with him?” Lassen asked. ”No, Pat’s far too smart for that. Probably nicked a boat and doesn’t want us to blow it up,” Gus shrugged. ”So this Pat fella. A sniper, you say?” Freddy asked, voicing the curiosity they all shared. ”One of the best,” Gus stated proudly. ”Some to watch our backs from afar?” Hasey acknowledged the well thought out addition. Having the extra security of a guardian angle watching over them would provide unfathomable reassurance. ”Exactly. Our own little guardian angle,” Gus nodded. ”And when will our angle arrive?” Lassen asked.

A day later, all the men, minus Apple, stood upon the deck of the ship. Gus finished his last rotation, sighing as he lowered his spyglass. ”Two hours late. It’s not looking good,” Freddy commented, taking a draw of his pipe as he rested up against the railing. ”Your right. Dear old Pat’s never late. Something’s wrong,” Gus muttered, a sinking feeling filling his gut. ”Don’t worry. If he shares any of your blood he’ll be fine,” Hasey had heard of Pat many a time. And he knew how deeply Gus cared for his younger sibling. ”Still,” Gus tapped the spyglass nervously as he scanned the horizon. Lassen sat atop the roof of the boat, frowned as a soft buzzing entered his ears. Tilting his head, he listened closer. ”Can you hear that?” he asked. ”Hear what?” Freddy asked. Turning his head once again Lassen held his hand to point to the sky. ”That,” he said. The rest of them listened in and after a few seconds, they could hear it. ”Sounds like a,” Hasey trailed off as they all shared a look. ”A plane,” Gus finished as they all stood to their feet, each searching the sky in worry. For there was another threat upon the path of the sea they were taking. Nazi bombers looking for British destroyers to sink. Bombers that if they didn’t find what they were, looking for could take out their anger on a little Swedish fishing boat. ”There!” Freddy pointed out to the left of the boat. They all rushed to the side, Gus looking through the spyglass. There, painted with big nazi’s symbols, was a fighter plane, headed stright towards them. ”ARM YOURSELVES MEN!” Gus’s yell had them all scrambling for weapons. Hasey was the first down below deck, rushing for where they kept the guns. Freddy jumped down after him. Gus and Lassen watched as the plane swooped down faster than expected. ”TAKE COVER!” Hasey emerged from below deck his gun raised searching for the plane, his head jerking up as it soared over head. Seeing a mass dropping from the plane, they all threw themselves to cover. What they assumed to be a bomb landed on the deck with a heady thud and a slight bounce. After a few seconds of not being blown to bits, they all recovered, looking at the so-called bomb. Gus was the first to approach. ”It’s a bag,” he stated, unzipping it to find an assortment of clothes and guns inside. They all turned to the right where the plane continued to fly, away and lowering inch by inch steadily. To their surprise, the pilot jumped from the plane, disappearing into the water below. Shortly after, in an explosive mess, the plane crashed into the waves.

Calmly the leather flight cap bobbed from the depths of the waves to watch the plane you had previously been in sink into the waves. With a small satisfied smile you turned around and started to swim towards the ship.

As you approached, you paused slightly. You couldn’t see your brother. The possibility of the meetup being a trap was quite probable. After all, you have made a long list of enemies. Your hand clasped around your lower leg where the outline of a knife handle could be felt. With your assurance plan still intact, you continued on. You were in quit a large flight suit which in no way made it easy to swim, but it also covered your womanly curves. Gus, and Freddy held their new acquaintance at gun point as you heaved yourself up the side of the boat. Coughing and sputtering, you played the waterlogged victim as you kneeled down. Hasey with a handgun in hold, crept forward. ”You alright lad?” Hasey tried to get a better look at your face, keeping his distance while slowly creeping forward. Only he wasn’t distanced enough. You took one quick look around, your vision clouded and stinging from the salt water, made out no recognizable features. So you did the next logical thing. Your hand slipped under your pant leg gripping the knife tightly as you lept forward, elbowing Hasey in the neck. The poor lad gasped in shock as you took his hand, spinning his arm around, holding it in a lock, as you kicked out the back of his knee, bringing him to kneel.

Your movements were too quick and sudden for them to react, and you held Hasey in such a way that you used his body to shield your own. With a painful twist of the arm, his gun clattered to the deck. The glint of metal put them all on edge as you pressed the blade to the lad’s neck. Now these were strangers to you, quite possibly enemies. More than likely, Nazi’s with the guns they held towards you. So you held no remorse as you pressed the blade into the soft flesh, drawing a drop of blood. You cursed yourself for the stupidity of falling for such a trick, your mind racing with an impossible plan to get yourself out of the mess you had made. ”DROP THE BLADE!” Freddy demanded. You paused. English?

”Come on now, don’t be stupid,” another said with a heavy Swedish accent. Swedish? You peeked out from behind the lad’s shoulder. ”Shoot em!” he yelled. Irish? ”You’re not Nazi’s,” your soft voice, although gruff, was unmistakably feminine. That fact had them all pausing in shock. ”I would hope not,” a voice all too familiar drew your gaze to the man that held the gun to the left. ”Gusley?” you questioned. Gus’ eye widened at the familiar nickname. ”Pat?” he questioned. You moved further out from behind the lad, displaying your full face. You blinked rapidly, your vision clearing as you squinted. It was your brother, you were sure of that. Only you almost didn’t recognise him with his new but stylish beard. ”What on earth have you got on your face?” you asked. ”What? You don’t like it? I think it’s rather stylish,” Gus laughed in joy at your arrival, brushing his hand down the length of his beard. The other men frowned but eased up at the sudden friendly exchanged between the two. Even though they were beyond confused as to why he referred to you as Pat. ”Captain, who is this?” Freddy asked hesitantly. ”Ah Caps. It is my incredible honour to introduce to you Pat. Pat is short for Patience, my dear little sister,” Gus smiled brightly. A smile that greatly over shunned the utterly perplexed expressions of his fellow sailors. ”Pat This is Anders Lassen, Freddy Alvares, and that poor chap your seconds away from decapitating is Henry Haynes,” Gus introduced the small group. You frowned, looking down at the lad. ”Malcoml’s little brother?” you asked. ”The one and only,” Gus stated. ”Can’t be, he’s far too pretty,” you said, Hasey unsure whether or not he should be offended by the statement looked to Lassen for help. Just as confused as he was, Lassen shrugged. You looked to the giant of the man, your eyes flickering worriedly down to the knife he held at the ready. Then back up to his eyes as your gazes meet. Handsome, you thought. ”Agreed. But don’t suppose you could let him go, regardless. He’s looking a little frightened,” Gus said. Realizing it wasn’t a trap, your body relaxed your hold on the lad, losing raising your blade up with an open palm to show you meant no harm. At the action, the other men seemed to calm down, their weapons lowering. Hayes scampered from you retreating to the safety behind Freddy’s gun. ”Patience. I missed you,” Gus’ smile was filled with love as he opened his arms, awaiting the hug he was sure to receive. You pondered a moment for the most acuate answer to his assumption. You started to move towards him, the knife falling to the deck as the same hand reached up to grasp the piolets cap. Gripping the top of it you were now mere steps away from your dear brother. A man you loved without bounds. The others watched on to what they assumed was going to be a heartfelt reunion. Only there shock exploded when you ripped the cap from your head, your long fiery locks alighting in the bright sun. And your right hand reeling back. When Gus realized what you intended to do with the hand, it was too late. The cracking sound of a nose breaking filled the air around you as you let loose one jolly good and well-deserved punch. Falling flat on his ass holding a now bleeding nose, Gus recoiled from the shock. ”Fuck you, Gustavus,” you spat. ”What in the blazes was that for!?” Gus asked in bewilderment. ”For getting yourself arrested, you idiotic numpty. Honestly, how stupid do you have to do to do such a thing?” you scolded the fully grown man like a toddler. ”Well, it wasen’t exactly my intention,” he grunted, pushing himself to his feet, cursing as he looked at his bloodied hand.

”You know how worried I was about you? Thought you were captured by enemies. Imagin my surprise when I was informed that your in fact not capture but arrested for what was it again?” You asked sarcastically. ”You know I can’t seem to remember,” Gus shrugged, whipping the blood on his cuff. ”For blowing up a fellow majors shack after you lost a BET!” you snapped. ”He cheated,” Gus shrugged. The scowl on your face had his hands raised in defense. ”My dear, I sincerely apologize,” he placed a hand over his heart, giving you one of his famous cheeky smiles. With a sigh, you felt the grip on your anger fade away as you closed the distance once again. Only this time, you wrapped your arms around the brother you had dearly missed, hugging him tightly. ”Bloody idiot,” you whispered. With a warm smile Gus’ arms enclosed around your small figure, him having to lean over slightly to rest his chin on the top of your head. ”Good to see you Patsy,” he whispered back. ”I am so confused,” Hasey earned nods of agreement from the other men. ”What’s there to be confused about?” Gus questioned, pulling back to tuck you under his arm. You glanced over the men properly this time. Taking them all in. ”Pleasure to meet you all,” you gave a small polite nod. The group examined the pair of you. Gus’ bright bloodied smile and all the way down to your bare feet. Due to you having kicked them off in the struggle of swimming. A strange pair indeed. ”I wish I could say the same,” Hayse muttered, his fingers brushing against the small cut. ”I apologise. I thought you were Nazis,” you shrugged. ”You thought we were Nazi’s?” Lassen asked, nodding to where the plane had disappeared. “Your the one arriving in a Nazi plane,” he stated. ”Yes well. I was in enemy territory. Options for transport were limited. Apologies for the scare gents,” you said, brushing back a few strands of hair. A few more seconds of accepting and computing the new arrival was had. ”Quit a slow lot, aren’t they?” you whispered to Gus, who chuckled. ”Give them a second,” Gus said. ”So this Pat isn’t a lad at all. She’s a woman, your little sister, and a sniper?” Hayes clarified. ”Why didn’t you tell us before?” Freddy asked. ”You didn’t ask. In fact, you assumed. Not once did I call her a him,” Gus explained. ”Didn’t call her a she either,” Lassen pointed out. You looked to him, finding no malice in his statement. He held your gaze steady, offering a small smile as he propped an eyebrow.

”You’ll forgive me gentlemen. I do enjoy the theatrics surrounding the Angle of Death’s gender,” he stated with a cheeky grin. ”Please tell me you didn’t just put me on a boat with men that think a gun has no place in a woman’s hands,” you sighed a look, daring them to protest otherwise. In a time where woman were considered creatures of the kitchen, there were many that would frown upon your presence. ”Gus says you're good enough for this team. That’s good enough for me,” Hasey shrugged. ”From what we just saw, I’m sure you're well capable,” Lassen gestured towards you. You nodded, then turned to the last one, who, while his gun was lowered, was still at the ready. ”No problem here,” he stated, letting it hang at his side. ”Good, well, i’m going to get changed out of these wet clothes. Any of you poke your head down there, I’ll chop your balls off and force feed them down your throat before I pulled them out of your stomach though your gut. Understood?” you asked, picking up the knife stopping at the entrance to below deck turning to them all awaiting a answer. Nods and agreements were passed around and when you were satisfied you went below deck. ”What a woman,” Lassen comment had each and every one of them nodding with remarks of agreement.

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Master List =Here=

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