#how the hell do you even tag them? i don't care enough to check

[iseeyoujon]

I've never understood Michael and Helen's attitude toward their own identity more than when my husband hit MAG 101 and I had to explain it.

Husband: "So Michael is dead, right?"

Me: "Well, I think Michael Shelley has been dead for a long time. But the Distortion wasn't Michael. Or it was, but also not."

Husband: "Yeah, I got that original Michael was dead. But is Distortion Michael dead?"

Me: "No. The Distortion is Helen now. Except not really."

Husband: "But Michael wanted to kill Jon and Helen doesn't."

Me: "But they're still both the Distortion. The Distortion just stopped being Michael because Helen made it her instead."

Husband: "Ok, fuck everything about the Spiral."

[eggsistential-basket]

thinking about the person i could have been if i tried a little harder to find my own way

[thelostconsultant]

Not a gold digger

pairing: Max Verstappen x reader

summary: Fans think you only want Max's money. But as it turns out, you were wealthy before he came into your life--you just don't make it obvious.

warnings: No smut, but there's a part that makes me say MDNI.

note: So... I'm kinda back? Idk, I'll see if I'll stick around.

The toxicity of the fandom was becoming quite entertaining, really. It was the third time since you and Max had made your relationship public half a year ago that someone started an anti gold digger campaign to protect your boyfriend. They truly believed they were doing this for a greater good, and they all begged Max for his attention.

It always began after they sniffed out he had given you something expensive as a gift or took you shopping to a luxury boutique. While there were some people who tried to protect you by pointing out that maybe he enjoyed showering you with gifts, the rest didn't care about that. 

You lived in a small apartment back home, you were driving a five years old Renault SUV, and no one knew what you did for a living. This was enough to enrage them and make them believe all you wanted was Max's money at the end of the day. Just think about the way she's looking at him, one of them wrote about two months ago, she's so clearly not in love with him. Poor Max, someone please save him. 

Ridiculous.

“Is everything okay?” he asked when he got home and kissed the top of your head. 

You were sitting in his sim rig, using the time while it was free to practice, because you wanted to play with him when you weren't here together, and he was more than happy to show you the basics. “Someone started another campaign to cancel me,” you replied casually as you got out with his help. 

Even when you were standing in front of him, he didn't let go of your hand, instead he raised it to his lips to place a soft kiss on its back. “Gold digging?” You nodded with a sad look on your face, but less than five seconds later you were both laughing. “Look, I know you're having way too much fun with this, but–”

Without waiting for him to finish, you raised your hand to make him stop. “I'm not stepping out of the shadows, Max. I've been hiding for years, even fucking Forbes doesn't know my real name or face,” you told him.

Back in the old days, when Bitcoin appeared, your geeky uncle had gotten into mining and trading it. He knew the potential, so he put most of his savings into buying them, then he held onto them, and by the time he got sick years later, he knew they were valuable and would be worth a lot more in the upcoming years. In his will, he left his savings and his wallet to you, giving you the chance to use them as you wished since you had learned everything about crypto from him.

So now you had Bitcoin as well as old fashioned investments, and you had used your money to help out an up-and-coming tech company for a forty percent share, and it was later sold to a tech giant for a lot of money. But despite your wealth, you chose to stay under the radar, because you loved your small apartment, and you weren't about to trade it for some fancy penthouse. 

You had met Max the year before in Las Vegas. F1 was a sport you watched with your uncle while he was still alive, and you were hell-bent on getting a VIP pass for the weekend. If you asked your boyfriend, he would say it was love at first sight, but in reality he was just annoyed by you. For a solid ten seconds, he would correct you every time you talked about it.

You agreed that you would hide in Max's apartment until this latest campaign died down, which gave you some time to spend together in peace. Every now and then you checked the tags to see how things were going, and after the silence of the past few days, today your name was trending again. Ready to have a good laugh, you opened the tag, but the most popular post gave you a minor stroke.

“Oh, fuck me,” you yelled as you launched your phone into the couch.

Max pulled the headset down to his neck as he looked over at you. “Is everything okay?” You raised your finger to your lips as if you wanted him to stay quiet, but luckily he got the message. “I'm muted. So?”

You grabbed your phone and went over to him. “They know. One of those idiots from the company I helped back in the day posted a tweet to protect me, saying that if it wasn't for me being an angel investor, they wouldn't be millionaires now,” you summarized as you gave him the device.

He scrolled through a series of tweets, and found a post from a journalist of Forbes in which he promised a proper investigative piece based on this info. He handed you the phone, then wrapped an arm around your waist. “It's okay, schatje. I know that's not what you wanted, but maybe they'll stop with the recurring hate campaign now,” he tried. “And if you’re worried about the article… Don’t be. There is nothing compromising about you. Yes, you inherited the money, but you have proven you know what to do with it.”

“Maybe you’re right,” you admitted with a sigh. 

“I’m usually right. C’mere,” he said as he reached out to pull you closer, but you glanced over at the camera. Rolling his eyes, he quickly turned it off, then gave you an expectant look. “Will you hug me now? And I want a kiss too.”

With a laugh, you leaned down to wrap your arms around his neck and gave him a soft kiss. But he wanted more, his hand slowly sneaked under your shorts, his fingers running over your clothed cunt before he decided to pull your panties aside and dip a finger between your folds. You moaned into the kiss, but he pulled away a second later to lick his finger clean. 

Shaking your head with a chuckle, you patted his shoulder and walked back to the couch. You could feel Max’s eyes on you the whole time, and when you looked at him again, he flashed a devilish smile at you. “I should quit the stream. Now that I had a taste, I want more,” he told you. 

“I’m not going anywhere, just try to be patient.”

He looked back at the screen, then put the headset back on his head and unmuted his mic. “Sorry, I have to go. See you next time,” he told the others, then logged out. You couldn’t remember the last time he left the sim rig this fast, and only a few seconds later he was kneeling in front of you, eagerly reaching up to pull your shorts off you.

liked by user1, user2 and 947,896 others

f1gossips: Breaking news! Turns out Max Verstappen's girlfriend isn't a gold digger after all as she has her own fortune according to the investigative article published by Forbes. Will the fans apologize?

view all comments

user2: And here I was, thinking she's just a greedy airhead...

user3: Easy to be wealthy with your uncle's money.

↳ user4: Have you read the whole thing? She invested the money and helped out several startups--that later became pretty successful--as an angel investor. Yes, maybe she inherited a lot of money, but she knows what to do with it.

↳ user5: May I remind you how many F1 drivers started their careers with their families's money?

user6: Told you she wasn't a gold digger. Suck it, haters.

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 1,577,353 others

maxverstappen1: If you don't buy your girlfriend gifts every once in a while, you're a bad boyfriend. I love to spoil her, it's not a crime. I love her, I'm proud of her, and you can send us as much hate as you want, it will only make us stronger.

tagged: yourusername

view all comments

yourusername: I'd be perfectly fine without the gifts, I already told you.

↳ maxverstappen1: I don't care.

landonorris: You're absolutely right!

↳ maxverstappen1: You're single, how would you know?

↳ landonorris: Just FYI, I've been in relationships before.

danielricciardo: You're so disgustingly smitten with her. (I love you both.)

[jetii]

#22 with Wrecker x Reader NSFW where team locks them in a closet and leaves for like an hour not knowing they were already together

been writing a lot of angst lately so this was a nice break from the sads. enjoy!

Something Sweet

Pairing: Wrecker x fem!Reader / Wrecker x Medic!Reader

Words: 4,103

Tags/Warnings: fluff, smut, established relationship, reader has a nickname, semi-public sex, fingering, unprotected sex, dirty talk

Prompt: 22. “Kriff, this closet is smaller than I remembered.” / “Wait, when the hell have you been in here?”

500 Follower Celebration Masterlist | Main Masterlist

It's sweet, really.

You try not to take it the wrong way, how committed the others are to getting you and Wrecker together. After all, they have no idea. They don't know you're both already...something. Maybe they just think there's a chance the two of you are unaware. That you're both pining for each other, and if they could only give you both a little shove in the right direction, the rest would be up to you.

You can't blame them for not knowing. Wrecker is nothing but respectful and proper around you, keeping a careful distance between the two of you when you're around the others, and it doesn't take much of an effort to seem like just another comrade on his part. He's friendly with everyone, openly affectionate with most. You're one of the guys. And that's all.

Well, it's a little more complicated than that.

But as you see it, it's not your job to explain anything. It's not Wrecker's either, and so you're both playing the parts his brothers have written for you. You're the awkward medic with a crush, and he's the oblivious, lovable trooper who can't see what's right in front of his face.

The first few times the others tried to get you alone with Wrecker, you played along. You let yourself blush when Wrecker was nearby, kept your voice soft and flustered around him, and even let him catch you staring a time or two.

It wasn't hard. Wrecker's eyes are very distracting, especially when they're turned in your direction. And it's not like he had to be told. He's not a great actor, but he does a good enough job at seeming a little clueless. It's enough to make the others laugh, and they all have a good time at your expense.

You're not sure how long this little play is going to continue, or what's going to happen when it comes to a close, but you're determined to enjoy the ride.

And there is plenty to enjoy.

Wrecker is always happy to be a part of any scheme, especially one that gets him closer to you, so the smiles come easy for him. The others are in high spirits too, laughing more, cracking jokes. You can almost feel the tension lifting, and you don't have to say a word.

You know it can't last, but you're determined to keep a lid on it as long as possible. To keep everyone happy.

But this is... a bit much.

As soon as the door to the closet slides shut behind you, leaving you in the dark, you hear the familiar, unmistakable sound of Wrecker's laughter. You've been locked in.

Again.

"Oh, no!" Wrecker cries, trying, and failing, to sound surprised. "Looks like we're stuck here, Doc! Whatever will we do?"

You bite back a chuckle as you turn and bang on the door. "Guys? Come on!"

There's a click as the door locks, followed by the sound of Hunter's voice on the other side. "Oh, hey, sorry, this door's not working! I guess we'll just have to wait until the maintenance droid fixes it."

"I estimate that will take approximately two hours," Tech’s dry voice adds.

"Two hours?!" you hiss.

"Give or take," he replies. "It is hard to say. Maintenance droids aren't exactly known for their efficiency."

"Well, better make yourselves comfortable then," Crosshair's drawl comes through the door next.

You can just picture the four of them standing there outside the door, smirking and giving each other high-fives, proud of their handiwork. You can also picture yourself punching each and every one of them.

"Seriously?" you mutter.

"We'll check in with you in a little bit," Hunter says.

"Have fun!" Echo adds, and the four of them tromp away, still laughing, leaving you and Wrecker locked in.

You turn around and fumble for the light panel, squinting a little when the lights come on, bathing the small closet in a soft, golden glow. Your eyes settle on Wrecker, still standing there, hands clasped behind his back, trying very hard to look innocent. The moment your eyes meet, though, the act crumbles, and a grin spreads over his face

"Hey, Doc," he says, looking pleased. "Fancy meeting you here."

"Yeah," you say, leaning against the wall. "Fancy that."

You're not upset. Well, not much. You know they mean well, and you have to admit, it's kind of sweet. But you're a little tired of this. This is the third time they've tried to lock the two of you in a closet, and they've gotten more obvious with each attempt. They've stopped trying to make up excuses. Instead, they just herd the two of you into some cramped, dark space and shut the door, as if that's going to force the two of you together.

You suppose they're right about that.

"What a day, huh?" Wrecker asks, stepping towards you. He leans his shoulder against the wall beside you, still grinning. "Just the two of us. All alone."

You can't help a smile as you tilt your head back against the wall to look up at him. "I'm glad one of us is enjoying this."

His smile only widens, and he shrugs his massive shoulders. "It’s not that bad. Could be worse."

You look around the closet. There's barely enough room for the two of you, and the shelves are crowded with a variety of odds and ends. You recognize some medical supplies among them, a few things that you haven't used in years. The space feels even smaller with Wrecker's tall, broad body filling it, and you're already starting to feel a little warm. 

"Kriff, this closet is smaller than I remembered.”

“Wait, when the hell have you been in here?” Wrecker demands, crossing his arms over his chest and raising a brow at you.

You smirk, looking up into his eyes, enjoying the way he leans in a little. As much as you want to, you won’t give in. Not yet. You hold his gaze, your expression coy. "Wouldn't you like to know."

He huffs out a laugh, then reaches up to scratch the back of his neck, looking a little nervous.

"I'm just messing with you," you say quickly. "You're the first person I've been locked in here with."

"Lucky me," he says with a smirk.

You bite your lip, unable to resist teasing him a little. "If you play your cards right.”

Wrecker laughs again, a deep, full-bodied sound. It's your favorite sound, the one that makes your heart squeeze every time. The sound makes the closeness easier, the space between you smaller. You don't feel so claustrophobic when Wrecker is smiling down at you, his eyes dancing.

"So, uh... How long you think we're actually gonna be stuck here?" he asks, leaning a little closer.

"Dunno." You shrug, looking around the closet, feigning boredom. "Hours, Tech said."

"Well, isn’t that a shame," Wrecker replies, his voice low. His gaze flicks away from yours, and you watch his eyes trail slowly down the length of your body, lingering at your hips and your chest, and you bite back a sigh. The way his eyes darken as they rove over you, the way he licks his lips and swallows hard before meeting your gaze again sends a wave of heat through your body.

There's no doubt in your mind what's going to happen now.

You let your head fall back, tilting your face toward the ceiling. Your hair falls around your shoulders, and you arch your back a little, stretching. Wrecker sucks in a sharp breath. You smile and turn your face to the side, peering at him through your lashes.

"So,” you start. “Should we do it?"

Wrecker snorts, giving you an incredulous look. "That's how you're gonna ask? Really?"

"Well, what else would you suggest?"

"How 'bout something like..." he clears his throat. His voice drops to a husky murmur, and the sound of it sends a shiver through you. "Hey, Wrecker. You know how we're in this tiny closet, all alone? There's no way anyone would bother us in here, especially not since your brothers have locked the door. Maybe we could..."

"Wrecker, stop," you laugh. "Stop."

"What? Just sayin' what's on your mind," he teases. "C'mon. Say it. Ask me."

"Fine," you groan. You suck in a breath and smile, batting your eyelashes. "Hey, Wrecker. We're all alone in this closet. Want to fuck?"

He chuckles and steps closer. "See, now you're gettin' it."

You shake your head, still smiling, but you don't have time to make another quip. Wrecker closes the distance between you, one hand going to your waist, the other sliding up the back of your neck. He tilts his head and captures your lips with his, and the smile falls from your face.

Your hands fly up, grabbing at his chestplate, and you cling to him as you open your mouth to him. He kisses you hard, and you're breathless by the time he pulls away, trailing his lips down your jaw and neck. He tugs at the collar of your shirt, exposing more skin for his lips to explore, and you moan quietly, tilting your head back and pressing closer.

You're not sure if the others can hear, or if they're just pretending not to, but you've learned to keep your moans quiet, save them for the rare moments you can get Wrecker alone. Even now, your voice is soft, a mere whimper that only Wrecker can hear, but you can't help yourself.

The sound seems to spur Wrecker on, and his teeth scrape across your shoulder. Your hips buck forward, and the hand at your waist slides around, down, and his fingers brush over the front of your pants, teasing.

"Wrecker, please," you whisper, arching against him.

He lifts his head, eyes dark, a smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, yeah, I gotcha. Here. Let's get this off," he says, his hands finding the edge of your shirt.

You reach up, helping him pull it over your head. Your arms get tangled, though, and Wrecker laughs, struggling to free you.

"Hold on," he mutters. "Damn shirt, why you gotta be so— aha! There we go!"

Your arms are finally free, and the shirt hits the floor, quickly forgotten. You grab the edge of his chestplate, ready to remove it, but Wrecker has other plans. He's already pulling down your pants, yanking them down past your hips, taking your underwear with them. You gasp, grabbing his shoulders to steady yourself as you step out of them, kicking them aside.

"Wrecker—"

He kisses you again, softer this time, his hands going to your bare hips, holding you. You lean against him, your hands roaming, finding the latches for his armor, stripping him quickly. You focus on the lower half, too impatient to strip off the rest, and as soon as you've stripped him to his blacks, he pulls away, turning you.

You grab onto the shelf, and Wrecker's hands cup your ass, spreading you. Your breath catches, and a quiet moan escapes your lips as his thumb slips between your legs.

"Shit, you're already so wet," he murmurs, his voice low. He gives a quiet laugh. "Bet they can hear us. Bet they're listening."

"Fuck," you groan, resting your head against the shelves, heat flooding your cheeks.

"You like that?" Wrecker asks, his thumb moving faster, his fingers teasing your entrance. "You want them to hear you, huh? Want them to know what we're doing?"

You whine softly and push back against his hand.

"Yeah, thought so," Wrecker says. He slides a finger inside you, making you gasp, and a moment later, he adds a second, his thumb still moving.

You whimper, biting down on your lip to stifle the noise. His fingers move fast, and he doesn't ease into it, his movements eager, almost rough. But he knows you can take it, knows you like it. Your hips are already rocking back against him, fucking yourself on his fingers, and his free hand goes to your hip, pulling you back harder.

It's a lot. Wrecker's always like this, his desire for you overwhelming, and he can't seem to get enough. Sometimes he takes it slow, savoring every moment, drawing it out until you're shaking and begging, and even then, he doesn't always give in.

Other times, he's like this.

But the others have never heard it before, not like this. You're not sure if Wrecker is putting on a show, or if the thrill of being caught has him just as worked up as you, but he doesn't let up. His fingers are relentless, curling just right inside you, hitting that spot that makes you weak. And his thumb is still circling faster, the pressure almost too much, too good, making you dizzy.

"Shit, that's hot," Wrecker groans. "I can hear it, how wet you are."

Your cheeks are burning, but your hips rock harder, the sound of Wrecker's fingers slipping in and out of you is obscenely loud.

"Feels good," you whimper, "Wrecker, fuck, just like that..."

"Yeah, you like it?" He leans over, kissing the back of your neck. "I know you do. Always so good for me, aren't you, Doc? Always so wet, so good, you're perfect."

You groan, squeezing your eyes shut. Wrecker's dirty talk always does you in. His words wash over you, sending a shiver down your spine, and the heat between your legs is getting more and more unbearable.

"That's it," he mutters. "Keep going. Fuck yourself on my fingers."

You don't have any trouble following his orders. You rock your hips, pushing back and meeting him thrust for thrust, his fingers filling you perfectly. They curl just right, making your toes curl. Wrecker's thumb is a blur between your legs, and you're close. So close.

"Wrecker, fuck," you whine, clutching at the shelf. You're just about to fall over the edge when suddenly his fingers are gone.

You cry out, jerking back, searching for his hand. You find it at your hip, holding you steady, keeping you from falling. You try to catch your breath, to ask him why, but before you can, you feel him pressing against you. The bulge of his cock is hot, even through his blacks, and you can't help but grind against him.

He's still for a moment, letting you rock back against him, the friction making you shiver. You can feel how wet you are, smearing his blacks.

"Kriff, Wrecker, please," you moan. "Just fuck me."

"Gettin' ahead of yourself," he growls, his grip tightening on your hip.

"Please," you beg, desperate, writhing against him.

Wrecker chuckles, low and warm, and his hand moves, reaching down. You hear the familiar sound of his blacks being pulled down, and then the head of his cock is nudging against your folds.

"Wrecker, oh," you gasp, arching your back. He takes his time, dragging his cock through your folds and letting the tip tease at your entrance. You can feel his precum mixing with your own wetness, his cock slipping against you, coating himself. You moan, trying to push back, to take him, but Wrecker holds you in place, stopping you.

"Wrecker, please," you pant, looking over your shoulder.

He's leaning over you, his eyes dark, watching your face. He grins, his tongue poking out between his teeth, his eyes dancing.

"Yeah, yeah. Gotta get a good look, though," he murmurs. "Always look so pretty when you're beggin'."

"Wrecker—"

His hips jerk forward, pushing just the tip inside you. Your jaw drops, and a groan spills out, unbidden. Your eyes squeeze shut, and the sound is followed by a whimper as he pushes a little further, stretching you open.

"That's it," he murmurs, his hand tight on your hip, holding you in place. The other hand reaches around, sliding between your legs, finding the bud of nerves that he's been neglecting. His fingers brush over it, light and teasing, and the sudden pleasure makes your legs tremble.

"Oh, oh," you gasp, jerking against him.

"So fuckin' tight," Wrecker groans, his hand moving, stroking slowly. His cock inches deeper, stretching you open. It's a lot, it's so much, but he's careful, taking his time, letting you adjust to his size.

"Wrecker, please, please, please,” you whimper.

"There you go," he mutters, his voice tight. "Just like that, Doc. Just a little more."

You bite down on your lip, fighting the urge to moan. The further he sinks into you, the harder it is. It feels good, so good, and you can't stop the sounds from escaping.

"That's it," Wrecker whispers, his hand still working between your legs, his fingers sliding over the swollen nub. "There we go. Almost all the way, c'mon, take it, c'mon..."

You let out a soft, choked-off moan, feeling him slide deeper, deeper. His fingers flick against you, rubbing tight circles, and you can feel the tension building, coiling in your belly.

"Please, Wrecker," you pant, rocking back against him, trying to take him, desperate to feel him filling you completely. "Fuck me, please, fuck me."

"Shit," he hisses, and the hand at your hip tightens. He jerks his hips forward, and he slides the rest of the way inside you, filling you completely.

The moment his hips meet your ass, you're finished. You feel him bottom out, his cock pressing deep, and the pressure between your legs builds, and bursts. The sound that tears from your throat is a cross between a moan and a scream, and your entire body tenses, your walls fluttering around him. 

Wrecker curses, his hips jerking forward, but he stays buried deep, letting you ride it out. He keeps his hand still, but his fingers press down, adding to the pressure, and your legs shake. The orgasm rolls over you in waves, leaving you gasping for air as you cling to the shelf.

"Fuck," Wrecker groans. "That's so kriffing hot, Doc. Did you just...did I make you...?"

You nod, unable to speak, still twitching, aftershocks rippling through you. Wrecker lets out a low chuckle, and his hips rock, pulling out a few inches before pushing back in, slow and deep.

"Yeah? You gonna do it again?"

"Oh," you gasp, nodding, your head spinning. "Yes, please, Wrecker, yes."

He laughs, then, louder, a full-bodied sound. "Alright, then. Guess we better get started."

You manage a laugh, breathless and delirious, but it's cut short when Wrecker's hips start to move. He slides out slowly, his cock dragging through your walls, before pushing back in, just as deep. Your mouth falls open, but no sound comes out. Your eyes are squeezed shut, every nerve ending is on fire, every movement sending another wave of pleasure through you.

You can feel Wrecker's breath on the back of your neck, hot and uneven, and his chest rumbles as he lets out a low groan. His hips speed up, rocking into you, and you push back against him, meeting him thrust for thrust. His cock stretches you perfectly, his length filling you in a way that only he can.

"Kriff," Wrecker growls. "You're so tight, fuck, that's it, c'mon."

His hips slam forward, harder, and his pace increases, the sound of his thrusts echoing off the walls. The shelves rattle, and there's the clink of glass, but you don't care.

"Yes," you moan, bracing yourself, pushing back against him. Your eyes fly wide, and you bite back a squeal when Wrecker's fingers move again, rubbing you faster.

"C'mon, c'mon," he pants. "Gonna make you come again."

"Wrecker, oh, I'm close," you whimper. “Please.”

"You're so cute when you're needy," Wrecker chuckles, and then he's pressing close, his mouth against the side of your neck. He leaves kisses, hot and messy, across your skin, and his thrusts are growing rougher, more erratic.

It's all you can do to hold on, his fingers still working between your legs, and he's pushing you closer, closer, each thrust bringing you nearer to the edge. Your legs are trembling, your heart pounding, and you feel like you might explode.

"Fuck," you moan.

"Close?"

"Yes," you whimper, nodding frantically. "I'm...I'm gonna come again."

"Good," he growls. "Do it."

You cry out, and his fingers speed up, flicking against you, faster, faster. Your thighs are soaked, and the air is heavy with the scent of sex, the wet sounds of his cock pounding into you, the harsh, ragged gasps of his breath.

It's too much, too good, and his movements are growing clumsy, his thrusts harder, rougher. You can feel him swelling inside you, his cock throbbing, and his breaths are coming faster.

"Fuck," he pants, his fingers moving, rubbing circles. "Fuck, Doc, gonna come soon."

"Oh," you moan. Your entire body tightens, your toes curling, and the heat in your abdomen is almost unbearable. Your legs shake, and then, just as his teeth sink into your shoulder, you snap.

You let out a muffled scream, burying your face in the crook of your arm. The noise is high-pitched, a whine that quickly turns into a whimper as your whole body spasms. You cling to the shelves, the only thing keeping you upright, and the world spins.

Wrecker groans, and his hips jerk forward, once, twice, before stuttering, slamming deep. He presses his forehead to your shoulder and comes with a growl, his hands on your waist, holding you still. You feel the warmth spreading through you as his cum fills you, and it’s enough to send a last shiver through you, a final weak burst of pleasure. You sag, going limp, and Wrecker's grip on you is the only thing holding you up.

He's breathing hard, too, his chest rising and falling against your back. He holds you close, and you sigh, letting your eyes drift shut.

After a moment, he chuckles, nuzzling the side of your neck. "Feel good?"

"Yeah." You giggle, wiggling your hips, and you hear him groan.

"You're so kriffin' cute." Wrecker gives you one last squeeze, and then he's pulling out, his fingers moving between your legs to catch the rush of wetness that follows. You shudder and gasp at the sensation, and he chuckles.

"Hold on," he says. "Gotta get cleaned up. Here, just stay there."

You can only hum in response, too exhausted and sated to argue. You glance over your shoulder, watching as he steps back and starts searching for a rag or some towels. You catch a glimpse of his cock, still glistening with your combined fluids, and you bite back a grin.

"Here, lemme get you," Wrecker says, crouching beside you.

He reaches between your legs, cleaning away the mess, and then gently wipes the rest of the evidence from your thighs. You giggle as he straightens up, and you reach out, grabbing his shoulder for support as you stand.

He's got a self-satisfied smirk on his face, and he winks at you as he starts to clean himself up. "Well, that was fun, huh?"

You roll your eyes, but can't help laughing. "Yeah, Wrecker. That was fun."

He flashes you a grin and reaches down to pick up your shirt, handing it to you. You pull it on quickly and turn around, watching as he tucks himself back into his blacks and fixes his armor, making himself decent.

"You think they heard us?"

Wrecker's grin widens. "I'm pretty sure the whole base heard you."

"Hey!"

"What?" Wrecker laughs. "You're not exactly quiet."

You groan, rolling your eyes, and reach up to fix his collar. "And whose fault is that?"

"Mine," Wrecker agrees. "And I'm very proud of that."

He's smiling, and you can't help but return it. He reaches out and takes your hand, tugging you closer, and he wraps an arm around you. You lean into him, letting him hold you for a moment, enjoying the quiet.

But it's not long before the silence is broken by the sound of Hunter's voice, shouting from outside.

"Hey, uh, are you two done?"

You sigh, resting your head against Wrecker's shoulder. "Guess we better let them know."

Wrecker's arm tightens around you, and his other hand goes to your hip. He pulls you flush against him and tilts your chin up with his thumb. He kisses you again, softly, and your eyes flutter closed.

"Let's give them a minute," he says with a grin. "Let 'em sweat."

You laugh and close your eyes, listening to the muffled voices outside, and you lean into Wrecker.

"Yeah," you agree, your lips brushing his. "Let's."

Taglist: @baddest-batchers @covert1ntrovert @stellarbit @bruh-myguy-what @qvnthesia

@spicy-clones @kindalonleystars @cw80831 @totallyunidentified @heidnspeak

@lovelytech9902 @frozenreptile @chocolatewastelandtriumph @etod @puppetscenario

@umekohiganbana @resistantecho @dindjarins1ut @tech-aficionado @aynavaano

@burningnerdchild @ihatesaaand @lolwey @hobbititties @mere-bear

@thegreatpipster @lordofthenerds97 @tentakelspektakel @notslaybabes @mali-777

@schrodingersraven @megmegalodondon @dangraccoon @dreamie411 @sukithebean

@bimboshaggy @anything-forourmoony @9902sgirl @jedi-dreea @salaminus

@ghostymarni @gottalovehistory @burningnerdchild @yoitsjay @callsign-denmark

@julli-bee @sonicrainbooms @captn-trex @feral-ferrule @webslinger-holland

@marchingviolist @deerspringdreams @chaicilatte @somewhere-on-kamino @silly-starfish

@floofyroro @veralii @chubbyhedgehog @meshlajetii @heaven1207

@808tsuika

[luceafarul-de-dimineata]

Mc that wants a secret relationship

This is from an ask/request from @notemejellyfish (tagging so they'll see it sooner). I went in another direction than their headcanons on the same topic, but that's not to say that theirs aren't good. They're a great writer, check them out.

Satan

He understands it

Kicks everyone that tryes to make your relationship public

He would still like if he could brag to Mammon about his relationship with you. Just Mammon, he swears.

Would take away the phone of anyone that ships you with anyone

He preferes smaller scale dates anyways, so just cuddling with you while you both talk about random subjects works just fine for him

He cares deeply about you so he'll always keep your prefrences in mind

Mammon

Why though?

That's his only thought

Don't get him wrong, you're his master, he'll do anything you tell him to without complaints

But he wants to know if something is bothering you about being seen with him in public

He can't have his master feeling self-concious, now can he

After you explain that it's due to all the shipping he can't help but laugh

Really? That's easy to fix

Tartaros is the main internet provider in Hell, so he'll ask you if you want all the shipping forums to get removed

He'll try to keep the relationship a secret no matter your answer to the previous question

He's never been in one before and he always wants to try out something new. The feeling of adrenaline at potentially getting caught makes him shudder and he's grateful you gave it to him

Leviathan

Omg finally

The shipping was getting on his nerves, probably more than it did to you

He's so glad you finally made a smart decision, the second in your whole life (the first was dating him)

Since the monarchies in whb are absolute, he bans the use of any tag that includes your name from Hades

Sends a petition to do the same in the other countries and I think only Avisos would sign it (not only is it illegal to steal people's love there, but Bael had enough war threats sent his way from Hades)

He was planing on having a secret, low-scale relationship with you in the first place, so he's the happiest about this change

Beelzebub

He takes this as an invitation

Oh, you want the relationship to be secret?

He can make that fun

He'll make out with you in changing rooms, grope you at the back of the club, pin you to a wall in a small alley and sniff you

He likes the danger of potentially getting caught

Also, just because your relationship isn't public doesn't mean that he won't glare down anyone that gets too close to you

Just because you don't want the internet to know about it doesn't mean that he'll be less passionate and protective of you

Whenever you're out on dates he'll use his power to discuise the two of you, that way, he can be as open with his affection as he likes

He's one of the few that minds the secrecy of your relationship, but he mostly sees it as a new challange

Lucifer

Ok

He'll curse all cameras to shatter when taking a photo or recording of you

It's simple and affective

Gives Gamigin some lectures on how to lie and there's that

Everyone in Paradise Lost might know that you're dating Lucifer, but they're not allowed to say anything about it

And, since no devil would go to Paradise Lost willingly, there's no chance of the secret getting out

He's probably the safest to have a secret relationship with

Nobody in the other countries likes him enough to call for chit-chat, so even if you were in a regular relationship people would still be surprised when they heard you two were dating

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

Bait and Switch. || Scammer!Reader x Victim!Ghost

Rating: M Words: 2.6K~ Pairing: scammer!Reader x victim(but not really)!Ghost CW: phone scams/conning (reader never actually cons him), financial issues?, threats (Simon threatens to find reader), degradation?. other tags: crack, OOC Simon., you/your pronouns (gn!reader but uses a female fake name), obviously fake names (pun/funny), lying, joking, the weirdest meet cute? a/n: this started out as a joke/crack and turned serious/dark at the end? idk how i did this.

Simon Riley would say that being legally dead is the best thing to have happened to him and that's because it allowed him to escape a bunch of responsibilities that regular men have to uphold.

He gets paid covertly, in full, and does not have to pay taxes on his income.

He rented a flat from a sweet ol' lady, who didn't run a background check or ask for a copy of his birth certificate (terrible choice on her part), and he pays her by dropping an envelope of cash in her mailbox on the 1st of every of the month.

He not only is old enough to drink but also sounds and looks old enough as well, which means he doesn't need I.D. to buy alcohol (not that any shops or bars really care enough to check).

He doesn't have a credit card. Or a debit card for that matter. Hell, he doesn't even have a bank account, so he doesn't have to pay maintenance fees.

He doesn't have a smartphone. And up until recently he only had a pager. In fact, the only reason he doesn't have a pager anymore is because it got shot in the crossfire during a mission... so Price forced him to get a jitterbug.

In short... Simon Riley can escape a lot of things (death, taxes, Philip Graves...). But telemarketers and phone scammers are not one of those things.

That's how, on a boring Wednesday afternoon, his new phone ends up ringing, like it had been doing multiple times a week for the last four weeks.

Telemarketers.

He never got telemarketers on his pager.

He hated telemarketers.

But that didn't mean he blocked them-

"What?" He answered as soon as he picked up the phone.

An automated voice came over the call, one of those typical Siri-esque robot voices, delivering a prepared speech: "Congratulations! You've won a free cruise to the Bahamas! To claim your prize, press 1."

Oh, now, this was different. He didn't need to hear more to know it was a scam call. But that didn't mean he was going to hang up.

So Simon pressed key 1, which caused a beep to sound over the call.

"Thank you!" The automated voice continued. "We are now connecting you to a live operator to claim your prize!"

Barely a millisecond went by before you took over the call. "Good afternoon, this is Stella Gormoni with Blissful Blessings Inc.! Who am I speaking with?"

As stereotypical as it is, Simon had expected a different voice on the other end of the line... maybe from a scammer in a foreign country who'd speak heavily-accented English...

But instead, he got a sweet and professional sounding person... It almost made him second-guess the scam that was being pulled on him.

His mind moved quick at coming up with a fake name. Not just a fake one, but a pun one too. "Wanh'a, first name Aiden." He replied, his gruff voice reverberating on the call.

"And how do you spell that?" You asked him politely, and, through your headset, he could hear your keyboard keys clacking in the background.

"That's A-I-D-E-N." He replied as he entered his kitchen, spelling his first, as if that was somehow what was causing you difficulty.

"Uh-huh!" You acknowledged in a peppy tone. "And... your surname?" You asked him.

"W-A-N-H-'-A." He continued spelling as he crossed the small kitchen, hearing your fingers tapping away at your keyboard in his ear.

For a moment, you didn't talk, as if stunned into silence. Had you just picked up on the fact he was trolling you by giving you a name that, phonetically, sounded like 'I Don't Wanna'? Probably. But you hadn't hung up yet.

"Well, congratulations, Mr. Wanh'a, you just won an all-inclusive, two-week long cruise to the Bahamas!" Your peppy tone made him bite his lip to contain a laugh. Well, at least you were dedicated in continuing the scam. "How are you feeling?"

"Very well, and yourself?" Simon asked casually as he leaned himself against the door of his refrigerator, leaning down to look inside and find a snack.

"I'm doing very well, thank you, sir." You replied in a cheerful tone. "So, let's process the information so we can get you your prize, shall we?" You announced in a polite tone.

"Go right on ahead, sweet'eart." He murmured as he grabbed a yogurt and closed the fridge with his hip, sitting at the table and peeling open the lid.

"Well, for us to start, I'm going to need your-"

"Actually, I have a question, before we start." Simon interrupted your speech, cutting off your silver-tongued lies.

You went silent for just a moment before you replied with a sweet little: "Of course, what can I help you with, Mr. Wanh'a?"

"I want to know how exactly I signed up to receive this prize." Simon replied before he placed a spoonful of yogurt in his mouth.

He was trying to accomplish two things by doing this: 1) throw you off your game and make you stammer and stutter, and 2) see how long it took for you to get annoyed, and hang up on him.

"Well, that's what I was going to explain, you see-" You replied, a smile behind your voice, but his trained ears could pick up the slight frustration. It made Simon smile.

"Oh, then, I'm sorry for interrupting you, sweet'art, please go ahead." He replied and gestured with his spoon, as if giving you the stage, unnecessarily so, because you were not there to watch it.

"As I was saying... You were entered automatically into the draw by buying a cereal box of any Kellog's cereal at Tesco. I'm sure you saw a 'Win a free cruise!' sticker on yours?" You asked in a professional and sickly-sweet tone.

He could see right through your scam, he had already done that. You name a famous brand, one people trust, to trick naive or impressionable ones into believing you...

Normal people would tell you they no longer have the cereal box, many of them naive enough to believe your scam despite the fact they hadn't even bought one of those boxes in the first place...

Next, you'd ask for the card used to make the purchase, and some people were dumb enough to read their number aloud to you...

Oh, how he hated scammers. Even more than telemarketers.

"I do remember seeing something like that..." He murmured, his voice deepening, before he popped another spoonful of yogurt past his lips, loudly smacking them right against the receiver of his jitterbug.

"Well, all I need is for you to get the box and read me the code that's imprinted on the inside of the flap!" You announced.

"Well, you see, I would, sweet'art... But my sight isn't so good anymore..." Simon replied. "I'm getting up there in age, you know?" He continued eating his yogurt.

"I understand, sir." You replied. "I'm sorry to hear that. One of my cousins also started losing his vision pretty early." You announced.

Huh.

There was no hint of forced sympathy in your voice.

No, you were being genuine. That was a real story of your life you were telling him...

But you had picked up on the fact he was trolling you, right? So why were you-

"Good thing though, about this system of ours, is that you can just confirm your credit card details so we can double check them and get you that prize!" You had, your tone right back to the scamming silver-tongue you had held until now.

Secretly, Simon had to admit that he admired your commitment to the bit. He couldn't help but smile a bit, amused.

"Oh, of course. Let me just set you down while I get my card." Simon replied and got up, finishing his yogurt and tossing out the plastic container, popping the spoon into the sink, and, after setting down his phone, he walked out of the room.

Simon glanced down at his wrist watch, noting the time on it, then, approached his bedroom door, grabbing his over-the-door pull-up bars, and began doing a quick set, leaving you to 'wait' for him in the kitchen.

After a few sets, he waltzed back into the kitchen and grabbed his phone again. "You still there, da'lin'?" He beckoned in a gruff tone.

You sighed, your politeness sounding slightly more forced. He had kept you waiting for over ten minutes after all. "Yes, sir, I am. Did you get your card, Mr. Wanh'a?"

"Oh, please, enough of this 'sir' thing, Mr. Wanh'a was my mother." He replied, then went silent for just a beat, almost like he could hear your frustration sizzling on he other end.

He was being more and more obvious with his trolling... And it pleased him immensely to imagine a parasite like you seething on the other end of the line, reaching your wits' end.

"You can just call me 'Ai', it's what my friends call me." Simon continued, a smirk forming on his lips. "And we're friends now, right? You're giving me a cruise and everythin'." He added, his tone just as charismatic and peppy as his had been.

"I guess we are!" You replied, returning the overly cheery tone. "So, 'Ai Wanh'a', then?" You asked, but he could hear the mix of frustration and amusement behind your voice.

"Yeah? What d'you want, babygirl?" Simon asked, unable to resist making a more impish remark. And, unfortunately, it had the desired result. It genuinely caused your brain to blue-screen for a moment.

Sure, you'd experienced plenty of people getting angry at you when you attempt to scam them, or even trolling you the same way this bloke was doing but...

It was definitely a first, to have someone flirt with you, even if it was still part of his trolling attempt.

"Your... credit card details?" You ended up adding, your voice still showing the surprise and light meekness that came from him catching you off-guard.

"Oh, of course. Are you ready? It's a very complex number." He replied.

"Ready when you are." You added as you steeled yourself for another smartass response or run around from him.

"Here it is: 1234-5678-9987-6543." He replied, reciting the numbers 1-9 in order and then backward. "And the three digits on the back are: 210."

Oh, he was so fucking annoying! He didn't get to troll you, even if it was pretty amusing of him to do so, then flirt with you, then go back to trolling.

"Sir, if you're not interested in the cruise, just say so. There's no need for this mockery." You replied, your tone serious and professional though you were definitely seething on the inside.

Simon could tell. And he reveled in it. "Oh, but I am interested!" He replied with a smirk behind his voice. "In fact, I want to know more. Will my cabin in the cruise have an ocean view?"

Simon heard you inhale aggressively on the other side of the line, steeling yourself not to hang up on him, or down right berating him on the phone. "Yes, Ai, of course!" He heard your fake cheeriness through your clenched teeth. "It'll be a luxury cabin, actually. Isn't that great?"

"No, it's not that great, actually. I get very seasick, you see?" Simon murmured. "Not to mention, ever since my pet goldfish died, I've just never been able to look at the ocean the same..." He added in a forced pitiful tone.

You went quiet again on the other side and Simon knew he had finally worn you out. He waited to hear the clicking sound of the call falling, but, instead, he just heard you let out a sigh.

"You're very frustrating." You murmured.

"Oh, my, is this how you speak to all your prize winners?" Simon gasped dramatically.

"Shut up... You didn't have to be a smartass, you know?!" You scolded him, as if you had any ground to stand on.

"No, I fear I did, sweet'art." Simon replied as he leaned casually against the kitchen counter. "You called me, interrupted my day, and wasted my time with a scam, of all things. I have every right to be a smartass and have some fun with it." He added, a smug tone obvious in the dulcets of his deep voice.

"Okay? You could've just hung up on me?" You were truly grasping at straws to justify your behaviour. It was comical.

Simon laughed dryly. "And waste an opportunity to annoy a parasitic leech like you?" He quipped.

That stunned you into silence for a moment and you couldn't help but pout a bit.

"Not to mention, what you're doing is illegal, you know that righ'? And I'm military, I could get you arrested for this." He added.

"For that, you'd need to know where I am." You retorted, maybe a bit bratilly. "Besides, I knew you were a soldier."

"And how did you know that?"

"You used the NATO phonetic alphabet while spelling 'your' name'." You replied directly. "Nobody spells 'Aiden' as 'Alpha-India-Delta-Echo-November'."

"So you knew I was military and you still went ahead with your little scam attempt? You're not that bright, are you?" He defied you, which earned him a scoff from your end.

"No, I already knew you were trolling me."

"Oh, so you just wanted to waste my time?"

"That's exactly it, Aiden."

"Sounds to me like you're just looking for trouble, da'lin'." He quipped, his voice having lowered to a gruffer tone.

Rolling your eyes, you scoffed. "Am not. I'm just enjoying myself. You're not the only one that can make jokes at people's expenses."

"No, you really are..." He tutted his tongue and shook his head. "Need I remind you you were trying to scam me, and other people?" He added in a tone that sent a shiver down your spine.

"I know what I was doing."

"Yeah? And are you proud of that? Proud of being a conniving little cunt who tries to take people's hard-earned money?" He taunted you.

You didn't reply. Of course you weren't proud. You still had a conscience! But you wouldn't tell him that. He wouldn't get the satisfaction of hearing you apologise.

"I see. You don't like what I'm saying, so you give me the silent treatment, is that it, sweet'art?" He teased. You could hear the smirk behind his words.

"I wonder if you'd still act like this if you had to face me and had to answer for yourself."

Closing your fists tight, you steel yourself again to gain some edge and reply to him. "I guess you're going to keep wondering then. Because it's not happening."

"You know, it's a shame your little computer spat out my phone number for you to call..." He trailed off.

"And why's that?"

"Because instead of anyone else, you got me... And that's just... really bad luck for you. Any other service member, you would've been fine..." He trailed off.

"What, are you some sort of General-Major-Chief thing, super high up the ladder?" You taunted.

Simon simply chuckled dryly on the other side of the line. "No. But I'm definitely the worst person you could've tried to play with."

"Oh, big scary man, what are you gonna do? Gonna come teach me a lesson?" You added, taunting him some more, clearly feeling comfortable behind your laptop, with your smartphone, sitting at home, comfortable and warm, with your pet at your feet. "Oh, I'm so scared!" You added, feigning fear in a dramatic tone.

"Is that a challenge I'm hearing, sweet'art? Inviting me to come pay you a visit?" Simon asked you, his brow cocking, despite the fact you couldn't see it.

You don't know what it was about the way he spoke. The way he said that. The way his voice sounded.

It sent a shiver down your spine, a cold sweat, like he was, for the first time, not joking around anymore.

"No...?" You murmured in reply, feeling your shoulders tensing in an unpleasant way.

"Yeah... That's an invite I'm hearing..." He disregarded what you said and chuckled. "Maybe I'll come pay you a visit then, hey? How does that sound, little leech?"

[orange-demons-deactivated2024]

Luke s. x bimbo!fem!reader

not a luke girlie, but I think out of everyone in street fighter 6. he's the only one to fully appreciate a bimbo gf.

When Luke first sees you, you were being harassed by a couple of thugs near his gym. 

And of course, being an outstanding samaritan and having a chance to impress himself in front of a hot girl, he did what anyone would do and kicked their asses.

After he scared them off he went to check if you were fine. To which you wrapped your arms around him to thank him.

That's how you met.

He likes to show off in front of you, whether in the arena or on the streets.

He also spoils you rotten, that Louis Vuitton purse you were eyeing, purchased. The Dior lip oil that was out of stock, yours. That cute mini skirt you pointed through the window, now lies in your wardrobe.

Luke loves it when you cling on his arm, it really strokes his ego.

When you told him you had a dog named Cupcake he fully expected a tiny spoiled chihuahua. The type that's way too pampered to move. Not a 100lb Rottweiler who serves as your attack dog. She scared the hell out of him when he first came over.

She's fiercely protective of you and only you, so she doesn't take a liking to Luke no matter how much he tries. 

You like to see if your new lipstick is smudge-proof by kissing him. You would sit on his lap and pepper his face with kisses, not like he's complaining.

You insisted on wearing matching lockets, so Luke keeps his on the chain holding his dog tags.

You made it a point to have your picture on one side and his on the other. So when you closed it, you both would be kissing.

Well...at least that's what you said.

Every time he enters a tournament before he goes into the ring, he kisses his locket good luck.

He's the type of guy to say wear what you want, I can fight.

But if he notices someone who can't take their eyes off of your low-cut top, he'll pull you closer by your waist.

You randomly asked him one day how it feels to be put in a headlock, because you saw him do it to one of his students when you went to visit him at the gym. So he decided to give you a demonstration.

His forearms weren't tight enough to restrict your airflow, but you could definitely feel your cheeks squish and your lips puckering. Maybe dying like this wasn't too bad.

Luke laughs at you for liking this too much. 

You like to show him the cute charms on your nails every time you get them done.

One time when you both were making out, you noticed one of your gel nails was broken, and that was the only thing you could focus on for the next hour, despite him whining for you to keep kissing him.

He knows you don't like it when he tries to hug you when he's all sweaty because you don't want his sweat to get on your outfit.

but he still does it anyway even after you push him away.

He's never cared much about the latest fashion trends or the makeup drops from famous influencers, but he'll allow himself to be dragged to the mall if you beg him enough.

He'll hold all your bags with no complaints.

He definitely gives you princess treatment. Like massaging your legs when your feet hurt from wearing heels all day, or even paying for all your shopping expenses when you refuse.

When you come home from a successful haul you're always eager to show him. And he will tell you which ones he likes the best.

He says to give him a little twirl.

You complain to him about how much you don't want pizza because he eats it all the time.

Every time Luke is able to customize a character in game, he makes them look like you. 

He does his best to have them adopt your style and mannerisms.

Luke knows he doesn't need to protect you 24/7 because you're capable of handling yourself, but he still wants to teach you a couple of moves in case something does happen.

He taunts you a bit so you can pack more to your punch.

And let me say, you have a mean, right hook. Knocked Luke in his jaw.

He actually thought it was pretty hot, especially when you were fussing over him. 

When you guys travel, he gets to relax in your pink car. The seats are lined with fur and filled to the brim with stuffed animals. Fuzzy dice hanging from your rearview mirror and snacks in the hidden compartments of the car. 

He makes you drive because he can't see through the gaps in the plushies like you do and gets too distracted by them. 

You text constantly since you both have different routines. But you mostly send pics of yourself when you're in dressing rooms. 

You: [sent pic] Does this skirt make my butt look big?

Luke: I think you should go shorter. 

So you do.

Playing co-op with this guy is easy for you. Mostly because he's good enough to carry both of you through an entire game. 

It's different if you're competitive, because he is too. So he won't let you win so easily. 

But if you decide to opt-out, he'll sit on the floor while you passively braid his hair. You even stick a couple of hair clips in his hair with small charms on them.

As much as you love Luke, you hate sleeping over his house. He doesn't have anything to eat in his fridge other than protein shakes and red meat.

And showering was a different story. Body scrubs, lotions, scented shampoos, and conditioners are nowhere to be seen. You have to tuff it out with the 3 in 1 men's shampoo, conditioner, and body wash.

But you do like snuggling with him in bed because he gives the best hugs, so you guess you can deal with it.

love potions (feat. princess paparazzi)

[rougepancake]

May i've NSFW request for mitsuri kanroji , kanae,Shinobu , and lady tamayo . sugarcube ~~.

With strong husband male leader who really love to suck breasts while Mitsuri Kanroji , Shinobu kochou,kochou kanae,and lady tamayo is breastfeeding their baby.

you don't need to write this request if you don't like it , i really like your blog .and also can you make it like a story .i hope it's not too much

You Are my only hope 😭🥹❤️

👀👀👀

The Good Stuff

Ft. Mitsuri Kanroji, Shinobu Kocho, Kanae Kocho, and Lady Tamayo

Warnings: Lactation, breast sucking???, I deadass have no idea how to tag this. I really hope you guys get the point lmaooo- MDNI!!! Not proofread like at all.

MITSURI KANROJI

She’s often complaining about how heavy her breasts are since she had your child, saying that she gets mad back pains now and that it’s your fault

You don’t mind though (not when she’s got bazingas like that-)

She’ll just be finished breastfeeding the baby when she crawls into bed, her nipples still leaking milk

She doesn’t say anything though and just puts on a bra, hoping that it won’t stain her shirt or something

But you stop her, pulling her back to the bed and taking her shirt off. You look into her eyes as you attach yourself to her breast, suckling away

She can’t help the gasp of surprise that escapes her as you go to town, drinking that shit up like it’s water

To your surprise, it’s sweet. Much like the dango she was eating earlier.

It’s so… good. You just can’t stop. She might beg you, but there’s no turning back now. She’s flustered and you’re having the time of your life.

When it’s all said and done though, she’ll come back and shyly ask you to help her out. It’s embarrassing for her, but you don’t mind.

SHINOBU KOCHO

Shinobu is an incredibly confident woman, so when she comes to bed and asks you to help her out, don’t be surprised

She’s bold with her requests too, like “Be careful” “Softer” “Don’t use your teeth”

She definitely has no problem telling you how she likes it, and you don’t mind

However, the first time you tried her milk was something else. Shinobu was squirming underneath you as you lapped up the milk, relishing in its sweetness.

You’ve never had anything quite like it, and you just can’t get enough of it either. Occasionally, you’d look back up at her to check and see if you’re doing a good job

Oh yes you are

She definitely says “good boy” when you’re done helping her I’m sure of it.

KANAE KOCHO

Out of all of these lovely ladies, she’s the most embarrassed about it

She’ll walk into the bedroom with a sigh, allowing her tits to hang out as she frowns at the sigh. She doesn’t like that they’re bigger than usual, and she doesn’t like the pain they cause her

You offered politely as a joke, but when you saw her eyes light up at the idea, you knew you couldn’t deny her

She’ll be pretty quiet the whole time, letting out squeaks here and there as your teeth graze across her nipple

However, when she asks you to stop, fearing that she might pass away from embarrassment, you don’t stop. You can’t. She’s just so… sweet. You’d be one hell of a fool to stop now.

She’s still embarrassed to ask you, but is a little more confident the more you assist her like this

(She’ll tell you otherwise but she FUCKING LOVES IT when you look up at her, suckling on her breast like a child. It makes her feel things frrrr)

LADY TAMAYO

The boldest of them all. Girlie didn’t even ask before just shoving your lips onto her sensitive nipples

It was growing to be unbearable, and she wasn’t about to put up with it longer than she had to

So here you are, her hand on the back of your head as you lap away at the sweet sweet milk she’s made. Quiet moans fill the room as your other hand massages her other breast, making sure she’s fully content before pulling away

She is discreet about it, and makes hints here and there when she needs you to help. However, she doesn’t like to make a big fuss about it. Tamayo would just rather get it over with to spare herself the embarrassment

Girl has just stopped wearing a top around the house entirely just in case her breasts begin to leak. But we all know you don’t mind

Honestly, I think she’s a very private and intimate person, so I could really see her cherishing these moments

They definitely replay in her mind daily

She once made you beg for it like you were a child, relishing in the sound of your pleas. She totally gets off to the idea of you begging for her milk

Yeah she’ll never tell you that

[yanderesimp2000]

Extreme yandere adam x Fem listener Chap 2/5 "building "trust" MINORS STAY AWAY

prev Chap https://www.tumblr.com/yanderesimp2000/745338401920860160/extreme-yandere-adam-x-fem-reader-chap-15-start?source=share this is my second post and second chap I've been really excited to do this My request are open so request away fuckers the TWs and tags for this one are

Drugging,gaslighting,manipulation,verbal abuse , Adam purposely making you bed ridden sick, Misogyny, Forceful kisses and cuddles, Abuse of power, Implied SA and VERY LIGHT body shaming

REMEMBER THIS IS FICTION ANY OF THIS IRL IS unacceptable Call your local Hotline for Domestic Abuse

"babe cmere you don't have to be scared" Adam complained he sounded like an annoyed and needy child This is your 9th day living with him and its already been Hell One thing you learned about Adam is he's more of a misogynist then you previously thought he thinks that you as a women are just a object for his pleasure he doesn't ask Before making a move he's much stronger then you and he know it but he's getting nicer its not like he treats you with respect but your life isn't that bad he looked through your life before you died and even though your locked up in his bedroom the minifridge in their is always stocked with your favorite food so if you would never get hungry

Adam kept looking around his room knowing you could not have left then he saw a feather sticking out of the cabinet "really bit- I mean baby hiding in the cabinet yknow you cant leave your trapped with me"you then felt his hand grab that little feather that was at the tip of your right wing and start pulling causing immense pain pulling you out of the cabinet he started down at you before saying "found ya" in a teasing and playful voice before giving you a kiss on the check and gently picking you up you didn't fight him you don't know why but he was kinda starting to seem tolerable I mean he was right in one thing you have no loved ones or friends in heaven so who was really gonna miss you and nobody had shown interest in you so you were lucky to have him and before he "took" you, you had to live in a small apartment now you get it live in his big room and even one day you could leave the room and go out with him once he trust you enough even though you thought he might have a point you just chose to brush it off as intrusive thoughts "he kidnapped you dumbass why are you starting to give into him" was your main thought

As you kept thinking you were gently placed onto the bed by him and he layed down next to you he said "babe guess what I got you" he said in a giddy tone "i dont care what you got me your not convincing me to stay with you " you said angry i got you your favorite food he then snaps his fingers and boereg your favorite food appeared "i got you boo-greg I don't know how ever ya fucking say it" he said in a calm tone little did you know he would weaponize your favorite food to get you to give in to trust him he put a small lace of strong poison in their not enough to kill you but enough to keep you bed ridden and sick he could then coddle and nurse you back to health and then you would think of him sooooo much better he saved your life how could you not

when he handed you the food you were happy but said " if you think this will make me magically love you then your wrong" you hissed he just laughed and said "oh we will see we will see" he said condescendingly

you grabbed the boereg and started shoving them in your mouth they tasted just how you remembered your grandma making them a crunchy outside of pastry and a cheesy goodness on the inside you greedily kept grabbing them and shoving them in your mouth the spices tasted a little different but that's just because of the new recipe... right after about 15 of them Adam made the plate disappear " be careful I don't want you turning into a little pig I don't like my women big" he said teasingly you thought to yourself "like he's some muscular man himself he's got a fuckin dad bod and I'm a fuckin twig but this still stung A LOT " you were right you were VERY skinny and Adam knew if he gave you insecurity's you would cling to him thinking you could do nothing better then him

You then said "it doesn't matter I'm full anyways by the way did you put any new spices in there" you asked talking about the new taste in the dish he just giggled a little and said "nope this was JUST like your grandmas recipe it has just been a little bit since you last had it so your probably just fuckin tasting things" he said that so confidently you just blindly believed him He then yawned and without warning collapsed onto you he stood at a good 13 feet and you were a feeble 5,6 so he was crushing your whole body his soft wings wrapped around you creating a nice blanket It felt like you were in a big blanket fort just trapped in between his Wings

Even your light struggles inside his Wings did nothing other then make you look more adorable and helpless you then were fed up and tried to punch him as hard as you could in the stomach but he just sighed "Yknow your not escaping sweet cheeks yknow why, cause your mine all fucking mine and you bet your sweet ass you will never get away from me" he said teasing before saying "yknow I'm Adam I could just banish you to hell if you leave me you you better stay" he said that firm and threateningly you believed and stop squirming he then layed down and released you from his Wings but still was holding you against his chest and was rubbing cuddling you his cuddles to you were rough they were like tossing you around and it hurt but to him it was just gentle playing around with you which you hated he then settled down and held you tight against him then saying "its time to get some sleep" before turning the lights out and falling asleep

*18 hours later

you were in a whole new level of hurt last night you woke up in agony and started vommitng and Coughing up blood when Adam saw this he feigned concern and took you back to bed with a bucket to throw up in and lots of medicine but in reality the non lethal poison he put in your food worked he knew you weren't gonna die so why be so concerned he did feel really bad making you go though physical pain It made his heart break but he knew that this was a surefire way for making you trust him and believe him more

he said "I'm gonna call out of work today" in a caring tone this made you think "well he cares about me more then just a cuddle and fuckmeat that can just be left to rot" this sorta mad you care about him a little more and this was even more proven when he started to give you "medicine" in reality it was just water with Bitter syrup in it to make you think it was medicine in reality he knew the poison would just leave you system in 3 more days so why bother trying to stop it earlier

after giving you the medicine he crawled into bed with you and started to snuggle you unlike all the other times you let him you were in so much pain and agony you just needed comfort and the poison alters your thinking skills so you just let him you even started to snuggle him back he knew this event would alter you and it is you started to view him in a better more positive light someone who just wanted to take care of you rather then use you

even the words of comfort he was giving to you just seemed so... real it sounded like he was being genuine and since you had no family or loved ones in heaven why not just stay with him. "yes he's a little rough but that can be fixed outside of that hes gentle caring and just look at him taking time off of work just to take care of me Ill give him a chance if he screws up I'll leave him" you thought

Adam then snapped his fingers and soup appeared he looked at you gently like someone would look at a wounded animal and said here have some he then started to spoonfeed you the soup tasted fine a little salty but Adam said it would make you feel better his mask showing a caring and gentle appearance. As he spoonfed you he said "I'm so so sorry I don't know how this happened you you must of caught fuckin a disease or something like that but don't worry just keep eating you soup im sure you will be fine he said while spoon feeding you

once the soup was done you just looked at him and said "t-thank you" you were greatful that he saved you and took care of you, you then said "I'm sorry for being so harsh on you I'll g-give you a chance but if you screw up I'm leaving you" adams mask lit up in surprise before a light smile formed everything was going according to his plan

"no no don't worry my little fuckin doll" Adam said in his casual voice "I'm sorry for being so rough on our first date" he said referring to the time he kidnapped you, you stupidly believed his words all Adam could think was "dumb bitch she thinks she has a choice to leave me but on the other hand shes warming up to me so I should be gentle and make her relent on me before I start playing with her more" you stupidly fell for his plan and just cuddled against his chest it was warm and soft the body fat serving and a pillow as his soft wings gave you a hug you could not help but feel safe and secure with him "as long as I'm with him nothing bad will happen to me" you thought since he was the first man and gods favorite so you were nice and protected with him nice and safe this was where you were meant to be you fell for his tactics like a fly to a web and now you were trapped you did not know it yet but this was the time when you fell and completely helled to him like a dog to their owners

[strawwritesfic]

Joel x Female!Amputee!Reader: (Don't) Hold Your Breath [Ch. 14]

Summary: You’ve made a lot of monumental mistakes in your life. Cutting your arm off isn’t even at the top of the list. Now you’re about to learn a lot of life lessons at the hands of your savior and her brute of a guardian–and they’re not about to let you learn them the easy way either.

Challenge: "#32 in His Rulebook" by Edible Heart Monster on Lunaescence Archives

Rating/Warnings/Tags: M (post-The Last of Us; excessive swearing; sexual references; violence against children; infected children; references to abortion; references to cannibalism; references to starvation; references to riots; implied domestic abuse; implied grooming; implied sexual relationship between an adult and a minor; death of a parent; violence; gore; blood; gun use; ableism; amputee!Reader; enemies to lovers; not canon compliant)

Pairings/Relationships: Joel/Female!Reader; Tommy/Maria; Reader/Male!OC; Ellie & Reader; Ellie & Joel; Ellie & Maria & Tommy

Tag List: @imaginesfire

Master List (with important note!)

Rule #14: If it's your birthday, just remember it's your fault if we get ambushed at the party.

The stables were, without a doubt, the quietest damn place in the entire fucking settlement. Possibly this was due to holding only three horses, but it simultaneously held very few people as well. You may have gone kicking and screaming, ranting and raving the first time. Then you realized horses were much preferable to people. Feeding, cleaning, and talking with Ellie’s horse might have been a chore, but at least it was a chore that didn’t make you want to drive a hoe through your fucking eye.

“Getting kind of low on the hay,” you told the horse as you groped for the feeding trough through the red sunlight flooding Callus Two’s window. He (or so Ellie insisted; you weren’t about to check yourself) stamped one hoof when you found it, nearing only to nicker in obvious disappointment at the little amount of hay inside.

“Sorry,” you said with a careless shrug. “It’s hard all around.”

“I don’t remember giving you permission to give my horse attitude.”

Twisting around, you saw Ellie standing pale in the entrance of the stable. Her glassy eyes flashed dimly in the semi-darkness, her lips set in what you could only assume was a shitty attempt at a scowl. How she intended to frighten anyone when she still looked as limp and moist as a fucking cooked noodle was beyond you. You could have tackled her to the ground—if the damn horse hadn’t got in the way. As soon as Callus Two spotted her, he was pressing you against the rough, splintery wall to get at Ellie.

“That’s right. You know who loves you,” she crooned as she patted his neck with one hand and held a second up to his fucking gross horse lips. A familiar crunch filled the air. So that was why the damn horse was so excited to see her.

“The fuck are you doing out of bed?” you asked.

If Ellie was well enough to bring the thing treats, she was well enough to feed and water and clean it and scoop its fucking poop. Wielding a shovel with one arm was no easy task—though you would admit to yourself (and yourself only) that the work had done wonders for your muscles. That did nothing to change the fact that you still spilled the fucking manure all over your shoes more often than not, though, which meant you felt no inclination to be charitable.

“Is she taking good care of you?” Ellie asked the horse. “Just tell me if she’s not. I’ll have her fired so fast her fucking head’ll spin.”

You were in no mood listen to the little shit poke fun at you. Filthy, exhausted, and hungry, you wanted nothing more than to choke down whatever the fuck the cafeteria had leftover this late and crawl into bed. Too bad for you that Ellie was somehow your personal responsibility until Joel came back from wherever the hell he’d run off to. The brat had come down with a bout of food poisoning due to fucking marshmallows of all things. Tommy couldn’t have thought of a better punishment for you skipping out on night-watch duty if he’d fucking tried, not that Joel had allowed it easily or all that willingly.

“Get back to the goddamn infirmary,” you snapped, “and quit wasting the apples on your fucking mule.”

Ellie shot you a look of what might have been amusement—the same look she’d shot you since you were assigned to be her personal slave. She might not have taken Joel ditching her very damn well, but you remaining behind seemed to go a long way in cheering her up. You supposed there must have been something funny about watching you struggle to open fucking doors with your only damn hand clutching a glass of water; still, it didn’t exactly endear Ellie to you any further than she’d already wormed her way into your shithole of a life.

“Why should I?” Ellie wanted to know.

Callus Two had finished his fruit and moved onto mouthing his slime into Ellie’s hair. The fucking horse seemed more interested in breaking your toes than grooming you, but you shuddered all the same. Horse spit was not something you wanted to have stuck in your hair until wash day. Unfortunately, Ellie saw and her weak smile only grew at your obvious discomfort.

“Just go,” you said. Maybe if you started shoveling, she’d leave you the hell alone—not that that ever worked. “I don’t want yelled at for letting you walk around again.”

“She’s with me.” Maria stepped inside the stall, her eyes narrowed at you. Ellie practically beamed.

“So she’s well enough to be out and about?” you asked coolly. Maria’s presence was not one you knew well enough to think snarling would be tolerated. Though you sensed a kindred spirit in her commands and scowls, it was carefully buried underneath several layers of strained patience.

“I haven’t thrown up in twenty-four hours,” Ellie said with a brightness that did not match her syrupy movements.

“I’ve seen more of your fucking insides than I ever wanted in the past week and a half, and one day means your good to go?”

“She’s fine.” Ellie turning to speak softly to her horse again force Maria to answer your question.

You noticed that though she met your eyes, Maria’s expression didn’t seem as fiercely determined as usual. Ellie still looked pretty damn white and sweaty. Food poisoning hadn’t been too bad in the distant past, but in this day and age where medicine was jealously guarded and hard to come by, all anyone could do was watch as Ellie tried and failed to keep down one grainy dinner roll after another. Tommy and Maria had spent as much time as they could spare in the infirmary with her. If they thought Ellie was well enough to move about, who were you to argue? Besides her fucking nurse, that was. At least this meant they were watching her. It would keep Ellie out of your hair for a few more days, thank fucking God.

“Fine.” Arguing with Ellie’s aunt wouldn’t do you any favors anyhow. “Just make sure I haven’t been abusing your pet and get out of here. I want to be done before it gets dark.”

Ellie looked over at Maria, who simply moved her head to frown at you. “It’ll take as long as it takes. This is your job until further notice. Failure to do so—”

“Means I don’t get to eat.”

You rolled your eyes. How many times did Tommy think you needed to hear this fucking lecture? A couple of days without food had been more than enough to get his damn point across. Several months with three regular meals a day, however meager, made it all the more difficult to go without. It spoiled you. As much as you hated knowing that, though, you just couldn’t bring yourself to not eat when there was food available. For all you knew, next week it wouldn’t be.

“Ellie,” Maria said, the frost in her voice so apparent you were surprised that you couldn’t see her breath, “go get your saddle.”

Normally, you got the feeling that Ellie liked watching you get told off. Hell, you assumed she fucking loved it. Today, she scuttled off eagerly enough. Callus Two tried to trot after her. Maria blocked the way, though, and looked entirely unperturbed by the hooves going up and down near her feet. It didn’t seem likely that looking busy would get rid of her any quicker than her annoying niece, but you did your best.

Maria cleared her throat.

“What?” you demanded.

“Listen.” Maria stepped closer, her expression not shifting from a frown once. You didn’t see why you should do as she said, but the idea of having a pistol shoved to your head was just as unappealing as it was any other day. “You let anything happen to her—”

“Me? I’m not the one letting Joel’s dying whatsit out on a joyride, th—”

“Quit interrupting me.”

When her palm pressed into the holster at her thigh, you fell into a silence that was sure to be as sullen as you intended it to be. There you���d been, minding your own fucking business, and now Tommy’s damn wife was in here acting like you’d dragged Ellie out of her sickbed yourself.

“We got a signal from Joel. She’s not going to sit still until she sees him. So she sees him, and you bring her right back here. Understand?”

“No, I don’t fucking understand,” you said, shoulders hunching up around your ears as though you were some sort of cornered cat. “Why the fuck does she need to go running after Joel when she’s sick as one of your dogs?”

Unlike everyone else in Jackson, Maria didn’t react at all to your temper. There was nothing there of Joel’s impatience or Tommy’s pained sympathy. It was like your words slid off of her. All Maria was concerned about was getting her way; how you went about it didn’t seem to matter. “We can’t get her well until she knows he didn’t ditch her. We need someone to get her there safely.”

“What about you?”

“I can’t leave right now. But before you go, I need you to understand one thing, very clearly.” Maria got so close to you that your skin crawled. Every fiber of your being screamed at you to retreat, to get the fuck away before she drove a bullet through your skull. Instead, you stood your ground, muscles tensed as her nose nearly touched yours. “You’re expendable. She’s not.”

Even with adrenaline racing through your system so fast that thinking was difficult, your lips curled at the suggestion that a fucking fifteen-year-old warranted more importance than you, the experienced adult. You’d been hunting since before Ellie had been a fucking thought in some guy’s dick. Of course, you’d lost your arm and become a useless sack of shit since then. You knew it every bit as well as Maria. Arguing wasn’t going to do you a lick of good. Still, your chin lifted in defiance.

“And how do you suggest I get her away from Joel if he’s not finished with whatever he’s doing out there?” you demanded.

“Drag her back. Tie her to the horse. I don’t care. I’m just saying, if she’s the only one that comes home on that horse, that’s fine. If she’s not on that horse at all, don’t bother coming back.”

That pissed you off. Everyone kept acting like you’d asked for this, like it was only out of the goodness of their hearts that they didn’t send you packing out the front door with no time to prepare—as though the collective of humanity even had any goodness any longer. Your knuckles went pale around the handle of your shovel; your lips parted with what you could only hope was a stinging retort, and then Ellie came back and the room was once again filled with excitedly prancing horse.

“What’s going on?” Ellie looked honest-to-God curious, as though the idea of Maria threatening you was the furthest fucking thing from her mind.

You’d seen Maria give Ellie her fair share of lectures (the only person in the damn settlement that bothered), but Ellie seemed to take these in stride as part of being family. Maria was no family of yours, but she seemed perfectly willing to chew you out for something you hadn’t even done yet. And in fact, Maria didn’t bother explaining. All she did was smile that same strained smile given over the discussion of Ellie’s health.

“Nothing,” Maria answered, and stepped away from the horse. “Saddle up. Hold tight to [Name] while she’s steering.”

What you could do to this order but snort? “Like I know how to drive a goddamn horse.”

“You don’t drive a horse,” Ellie said. “You ride.”

“Whatever.”

Maria didn’t look like she believed your lack of horsing experience. Why shouldn’t she have, though? Horses took up space and food—a lot more of both than human beings. Jackson was the only non-military settlement fucking stupid enough to keep them around. It was obvious why: Ellie’s damn sentimentality. Callus Two was like the damn dog she’d never got at that godforsaken school of hers. You, on the other hand, had grown up with real fucking transportation: cars and buses and airplanes, for fuck’s sake. By the fucking way? You only had one arm. How the fuck could you steer a horse one-handed?

After considering you through the growing night, Maria snorted herself, turned back to Ellie, and folded her arms across her chest. “Fine,” she said. “You steer. But if you start having trouble, you’re walking home.”

“We are not walking home,” Ellie muttered underneath her breath as Maria marched past her and out into the stable hall.

“You will if you have to,” Maria called back flatly.

That was the last you heard of her. Only the sound of her boots against the ground indicated that she had left. Ellie, meanwhile, was busy getting her saddle situated. It was clearly from before: old and scratched, with fraying straps and tarnished buckles. You supposed it must have done the job fine, though this didn’t matter much either way. Surely Ellie of all fucking people didn’t know how to ride bareback either.

“Are you coming or what?” Ellie’s voice snapped rudely into your musings about whether or not you actually should have learned to ride a horse when you’d had the damn chance. When you looked up, she was already atop Callus Two, reins in her hands and as close to a look of impatience as she could manage on her face.

“And if I’m not?” you asked in a voice of feigned curiosity.

“Can we not do your fucking drama queen bullshit right now?”

As if the dumb horse could sense Ellie’s agitation, he began to stamp again. “Shit,” was all you got out before you’d been backed into the wall again avoiding having your feet broken.

Ellie did not appear to notice or care. Her eyes were already glued to the tree line outside the window. “I need to see Joel. Either get on or fuck off—but remember it’ll be really fucking easy for me to catch up with Maria on horseback.”

“You little—”

“Not right now, okay?”

The look she threw you was almost pleading, or maybe that was just the sheen of sickness underneath her shell of contempt. Whatever it was, it wasn’t that that made you clumsily climb onto Callus Two’s trough and scramble onto his back. Last time you had been in this position was when Ellie had brought you to Jackson. She’d been a hell of a lot more accommodating then; now you were forced to struggle to get yourself adjusted all on your own. Ellie didn’t wait to make sure you were before she snapped the reins and the horse started off. The bouncing made it much more difficult for you to find your balance and all that came out of your mouth for the next few minutes was a stream of quite but vehement profanities.

“You done now?” Ellie asked once you had finally come to a stop behind her, legs pressed against hers and hand clutching at her hip as lightly as you dared. With the back of her red-brown head nearly pressed against your nose, you could smell the faint, cloying scent of illness clinging to her. This was the first you’d smelled of it, and it nearly made you sick yourself. Even what used to be Wyoming got warmish in the summer, meaning that you hadn’t had to cuddle the little shit to keep her warm at night. You wished you had been able to keep that distance now.

“Hey. Bitch. You settled?”

“I’m—fuck!” The damn horse obviously hated you, as he took the incline toward the forest with such a bound that you nearly flew off its back end again. “I’m settled, thanks.”

She glanced back once at you without pulling to a stop. Unlike you, Ellie knew the lay of the land surrounding Jackson. You could find your way to Joel’s swimming pond and that was fucking it. You were half-surprised that Maria hadn’t insisted on blindfolding you for this little venture with how little you were allowed outside these days. And for what? Who the fuck were you supposed to bring here? Who the hell did she think you liked enough to remain in contact with?

“What’s your deal?” Ellie asked.

“My deal?” you repeated incredulously. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Look, I didn’t fucking ask to be saddled with you for this. If I’d had my way, I’d be going to Joel alone.”

“Too bad for me that your family seems so damn keen to keep you around.”

The back of Ellie’s neck turned slightly pink. When she looked at you a second time, you could have sworn that the ends of her lips were twitching up. You must have been mistaken; Ellie never smiled at you or because of you. Then again, you weren’t sure if you were mistaken when Ellie spoke again, her voice uncharacteristically soft: “Yeah, well, you need to get out sometimes, too.” Must have been those marshmallows talking.

Once in the forest, Callus Two slowed considerably. At this rate, it would be past dark by the time you got Ellie home. Maria hadn’t outright said you had a time limit, but you wouldn’t have been surprised to find her standing at the gate waiting for you if you took too long.

You snorted into the top of Ellie’s head and looked away. “Your gesture of kindness might be more appreciated if your fucking aunt hadn’t twisted my arm about it.”

“She shouldn’t have to twist your arm.”

“Why the fuck should I listen to her?”

It was Ellie’s turn to sound incredulous. “Because she’s in charge.”

Why did you have to explain the workings of Ellie’s family business to her? That round of food poisoning must have fried the last few brain cells in the kid’s head. “Tommy is in charge,” you said slowly.

Ellie’s responding eye roll was so massive that her head moved along with it. “Maria is in charge. Jackson belongs to her family. She used to run it with her dad before he—”

“Died,” you finished for her. Everyone’s loved ones were either dead or fungal, and it wasn’t hard to tell if it was the latter. “If it’s Maria’s settlement, why does Tommy give me all my assignments?”

“Maria can’t stand you,” Ellie said bluntly. “Kind of a repeated pattern in your life, if you think about it.”

Already the images were there. They had been creeping closer and closer and close every night since that bungled attempt at watch duty. You could see a stunted, misshapen figure chained to a tree just out of the corner of your eye, hear the grunting slowly turning into the godforsaken clicking, taste the ghost of warm meat in the back of your throat.

Holy fucking shit, could one glimpse of a familiar face in the dark really turn you back into a quivering member of the non-fungus walking dead that quickly?

“Fuck!” Ellie hissed. “Let go.”

Too late, you realized your ragged fingernails had dug into her side. You hastily forced your fingers to straighten, balance be damned, but you didn’t bother offering Ellie an apology. You simply sucked in a high, quick breath.

“You stand me,” you answered smoothly a moment later. Ellie snorted again, forcing you to add almost insolently, “And Joel.”

You had, of course, intended to get a rise out of Ellie. Baiting her was about the only fucking thing that brought you joy in this life anymore—and no way in Hell were you speeding your way along to Hell. You figured you might as well enjoy the simple things in life, but Ellie had to go and ruin that too. She didn’t immediately snap at you; in fact, she hardly responded at all. For what felt like a whole damn minute, the only sound in your ears was the steady beat of horse hooves against the wet leaves on the ground. When Ellie finally did speak, her voice was so quiet that you could barely hear:

“Did he ask you to go with him?”

“Huh?”

“Did Joel ask you to go with him?”

A frown pressed wrinkles into your forehead. Was Ellie fucking delusional all of a sudden? “Did Joel as me to go where?”

“This isn’t that hard of a question!” Ellie snapped, twisting in her seat to glare at you. “Did Joel ask you to go along with him on this trip or not?”

Now that you understood what Ellie wanted to know, you couldn’t prevent a bitter laugh from bubbling out of your lips. You had been afraid that things were about to turn genuinely serious there for a second. “Why the fuck would Joel ask me to go anywhere with him? You’ve heard him. I’m ‘quite frankly as useful as a chocolate teapot in the desert heat,’” you said, mimicking Joel’s drawl for the last bit.

For once, Ellie didn’t fire back with a comment about how you were as useless as a chocolate teapot. She really must have been sick, because she just turned back around and was silent again. Well, if the rest of this trip went by without Ellie’s typical useless chitchat, you could count that as a victory. You: one; Ellie: somewhere in the fucking thousands.

Unfortunately, she did not remain speechless. “He had a girl once, you know.”

Her tone was so different all of a sudden. You frowned at the back of her head. What did Joel’s past have to do with anything? He tolerated you because Ellie—for reasons that were beyond you—liked having you around.

“A daughter or a girlfriend?” you asked.

Again, Ellie fell silent. Obviously, she was still thinking about the girl, though, because her thin shoulders pinched together. You were only just starting to feel a burning annoyance at her for bringing the subject up if she wasn’t going to elaborate when she finally got her damn tongue back on track.

“A girlfriend,” she said quietly.

“Before or after?”

“After. I met her once. Tess.”

“Tess.”

What kind of woman had Tess been, you wondered? Tough, presumably, to have lasted that long. Joel took any and every insinuation that Ellie was anything other than his daughter so badly that Tess must have been old enough to be romantically involved with him instead. You imagined a tall woman, quiet, with smoldering coals in her eyes instead of fire. Maybe she had been a better shot than you, or more likely she had done something productive with her life. She’d definitely have been whole, at least, probably didn’t go around chopping off limbs in a wild attempt to stave off the inevitable burning of eternity.

Wait. Why the fuck did you care what Joel’s old girlfriend was like? You ought to have wished she was still around so she could fill in as parent-slash-guardian when he was gone. It was Joel’s fault you were being dragged on a horse out into the middle of nowhere to begin with!

While these unsettling thoughts flipped through your head, Ellie appeared to be lost in thought. You could not see her eyes from where you were sitting, but she held the reins loosely in her hands, unmoving other than the occasional twist to get Callus Two back on what she must have felt was the right track. Even more irritated to find that she could escape your presence that easily, you cleared your throat.

Ellie gave a fucking ridiculous start and said “What?” with obvious frustration, which you ignored.

“Where the hell is your dad anyway?” you asked.

Too much longer and the clickers would be out—and it wouldn’t easy to keep them from hearing the steady pounding of Callus Two’s hooves. Maybe a horse could take out a few of them on its own; maybe not. You weren’t all that eager to find out firsthand.

As soon as the question was out of your mouth, Ellie’s shoulders hunched again so that her shoulders were up around her ears. “Joel isn’t—”

But whatever Joel wasn’t (the possibilities were endless), you never got to hear. Laughter filled the air at several different pitches, and noise echoed against the tree trunks eerily in the red-orange light of the evening.

The smart thing to do probably would have been to keep going—but hell, you weren’t the one driving. Frowning, Ellie pulled your ride to a complete stop. In the shadows beyond Callus Two’s path, five darker shadows shifted, closer and closer, until their owners appeared: three ragtag men and a couple of equally ragged women. As always in bands such as these, there was an apparent leader; the dark-haired, relatively clean-shaven man stepped forward so that his relatively clean-shaven face showed clearly in the sun. As the laughter died away, he smiled a disarming smile that showed a surprisingly whole set of teeth.

“Oh, he’s far enough away, darling. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that.”

Ellie frowned down at the man. “Who the fuck are you?” she asked, tone mild.

None of the five had weapons drawn, though several backpacks had iron poles sticking out of their tops and the man in front had a sawed-off rifle in plain sight. For all of Ellie’s tense curiosity, however, his eyes were focused squarely on you. He did not even seem to have heard Ellie speak.

“How you doin’, sweetheart?” he asked, sauntering forward as casually as fuck.

Your eyes felt so wide that they might pop out of their sockets. Your fingers had once again latched onto Ellie’s hip as your only anchor to this goddamn earth. “Looks like that crazy plan of yours worked—‘less you just go runner slower than the rest of us.”

Your companion twisted in the saddle to gape at you. “You know him?”

You would have known him anywhere. Seeing him, your chest ached as badly as the day you had met, and once again you tasted meat in the back of your throat, the first real meal you had had in years and years and years.

“Ezekiel,” you breathed. And then, before Ellie could demand that you explain or before anyone else in that cramped forest space could react, you launched yourself off of Ellie’s fucking horse and tackled Ezekiel to the ground.

[babybluebex]

italy calling: part two | joseph quinn x fem!reader

summary: part two of three! you happen upon joe again at the beach and, after establishing rules for your fling, you find out some choice information about him. pairing: joseph quinn x fem!reader (rpf - don't like, don't read) tags: smut (18+/MINORS DO NOT INTERACT): oral (f! and m!receiving), lots of intimacy, joe is a cutie word count: 3.2k author's note: thank you for the overwhelming support on this fic! it really means a lot to me! i hope you enjoy this part!

As it turns out, hangovers don’t care about what you definitely were going to do. When you woke up, your head was pounding and your mouth was as dry as sand, and you laid up in bed as you tried to control the throbbing in your skull. This was not how you meant to spend your time in Italy. In an embarrassing fit, you got up out of bed and went down to the hotel lobby shop in search of some Advil or anything to fix your headache, and you downed water to try to fix your dehydration problem. 

Finally, around noon, you felt normal enough to attempt to enjoy your vacation, and you got dressed in your swimsuit to hit the beach. You felt awkward going through the hotel lobby in your swimsuit, even with your cover-up on, and you were thankful when you finally reached the beach. You had brought a book down to try to read but, as you laid in the sun, the warmth on your skin soothed you, and you turned onto your stomach to try to get some sun on your back. 

You weren’t sure that you didn’t fall asleep, and you also weren’t sure when you became aware that someone was standing close to you, and you sighed. Fuck. Some creep was checking you out. Before you could blow your mouth off at them— “Alright, man, cut it out!”— you turned and squinted up at the sun. The person was a silhouette against the afternoon sun, but you recognized him in an instant. 

“Fancy seeing you here,” Joe said, his hands clasped behind his back. He wore another buttoned shirt, this time a lilac color, wrinkled to all hell, unbuttoned down to his stomach. He wore shorts now too, and woven espadrilles— what a beach bum. He had a set of sunglasses resting atop his head, his messy curls falling over his forehead. He looked amazing, and your grimace fell into a smile before you very quickly realized that you were only wearing your swimsuit, showing more skin to him than you would have preferred at the moment, and you snatched up your cover-up and held it to your chest. 

“Joe!” you said, and only then did your intentions from last night come flooding back. You had his number. You had meant to call him. “I’m so sorry, I— Umm— I woke up and was so hungover, I’m so sorry, I’m so embarrassed about last night—“

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Joe told you quickly. “I thought it was endearing.” 

“Endearing,” you scoffed. “Right. I really did mean to call you, I promise I did… I just… Hangover, you know?” 

“I know,” Joe said. “I’m not feeling at my best either. I thought some sunshine and sea air would do me good, but…” He squinted one eye and shook his head. “Honestly, my head is done in and I wanna go back to my room. But I’m glad I ran into you, I was wanting to talk to you.” 

“Sure,” you told him. You stood up, gathering up your bag and sandals, and Joe reached out for your hand, just as he had last night. His hand felt the same, warm and soft, and you both started to walk down the beach. The sand squished between your toes as you walked, and you listened to the rolling of the waves as you waited for Joe to start talking. “How was your morning?” Joe asked finally. 

“Pretty shit,” you told him. “Hangover and all. But, umm… It’s better now.”

“Why?” Joe asked, and you huffed out a laugh, nudging his shoulder with yours. 

“‘Cause you’re here,” you said. 

Joe smiled, and he leaned in close to you, kissing your cheek again. You felt a giddy energy pass through your spine, something that you recognized, and you turned warm at the feeling. Even him just kissing your cheek turned you on, and you sighed. “I was worried when you didn’t text me,” Joe said. “Because I wanted to see you again.” 

“Me too,” you said, and Lily’s words came back to you— A fling. Was this cute Joe to be your vacay fling? “Without being too forward, I was, um… I really wanted to see you again tonight.” 

“Why specifically tonight?” Joe asked. “We can see each other at any time.” 

You were thankful that he seemed to be picking up what you were saying, and you nodded. “You’re right,” you said. “Umm… I kinda wanna see you now. If you know what I mean.” You cringed at how awful that sounded coming out, and Joe let go of your hand. Before you could do anything else, he wrapped his arm around you and pulled you into his side, chuckling as he kissed your head. 

“I wanted to take you to dinner first, at least,” Joe said. “And… It sounds stupid, but I like you, and I want to see more of you this week, but I… I have some rules.”

Oh God, what? Rules? Had you somehow walked into a 50 Shades situation and it was now too late to back out? Sensing your confusion, Joe quickly said, “Not like that, like… Little things, like, don’t ask me about my job and I won’t ask about yours. Or, umm, no surnames. Anonymity, y’know?”

“Okay,” you said slowly. You sort of understood what he was getting after, but your biggest question remained: “Why?” 

Joe shrugged. “Isn’t that half the fun of flings?” he asked. “Not knowing much about each other, only working because you have one goal together? If we met back up at home, we wouldn’t work, and that’s the fun. We only work together in Italy.” 

Okay, this guy was weird. He was hot, very endearing, a total sweetheart, and weird. You wondered just what had happened in his past that made him so steadfast about the anonymity portion of your relationship, but, honestly, you didn’t mind it. It was exactly the sort of thing you needed— no strings attached, not a serious relationship. 

“Okay,” you agreed. “Sounds fun.” 

“And no sex.” 

That threw you for a loop. “Huh? What’s the point of a fling if you don’t fuck?” 

“I know, I’m sorry,” Joe chuckled. “I just… I’ve been burned before with one night stands and ex-girlfriends, and I just— We can do other stuff, I’d love that, but just nothing going… In… Anything.”

“So, fingering’s off the table?” you asked, and Joe sputtered out a laugh. His laugh was funny, straight from his chest, loud and unabashed, and you giggled at his reaction. 

“No, no,” Joe said. “We can do that. Just not full-blown sex.”

“This is starting to sound less ideal,” you told him pointedly, still smiling, and Joe bit his lip, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“I know,” he said. “But you’re going to especially hate my last rule.” 

“I’ll hate it more than no sex?” you asked. “Lay it on me, I suppose.” 

“No finding each other afterwards,” Joe said. “Once this is over, we only survive in each other’s memories. No searching Instagram, no Googling, nothing like that. A perfect week, untarnished by reality. That’s all I want.” 

“Your reality must be pretty bleak if you want to escape it so badly,” you mumbled, and Joe didn’t respond, only nudging a seashell with his toe. 

“Those are my rules,” Joe said. “Only those. Everything else is okay, just anonymity, no sex, no finding each other. Deal?” 

You pouted as you thought about it. It sure sounded tempting, but you were worried about the aftermath of the situation. Inevitably, you knew that you would try to track him down, and you weren’t entirely sure that you could promise him that you wouldn’t. And no sex? What sort of a fling was that? He said you could do other things, just not that, and you wondered why the cut-off was at full-blown sex. He said he had been burned before, but how? The rules brought up more questions than answers, but, at the end of the day, you nodded. “Deal,” you said. 

Joe stopped his walk, tugging you back into his body, and he smiled fondly at you as he put his hand on your cheek. “You’re not drunk, right?” he asked. “High? Nothing like that?” 

“Right,” you told him. “Now kiss me.” 

He certainly did not need to be told twice, because he leaned in and sealed your lips in a kiss instantly. His lips were soft and tasted like Chapstick, and he slotted his lips against yours perfectly as his hands grasped your waist. He tugged you right up on him, his knee pressing lightly between your thighs, and he deepened the kiss as you felt him through his shorts. He was half-hard already, and you moaned softly before you broke the kiss. 

“You said we can do other stuff, right?” you asked, and Joe nodded. “Your place or mine?” 

You ended up in Joe’s hotel room. It was a little messy, obviously lived in for a few days, the bed linens rumpled and wrinkled, but you didn’t think twice about it before Joe settled you on his bed, kneeling above you as his lips attached to your neck. He was a generous lover, focusing all on you before even sparing a thought to himself, and he proved it time and time again with the way he made you cum first and always asking if you were alright. 

He had kissed down your body, pulling down your swimsuit and licking at your sun-warmed skin, then diving in to pleasure you with his skilled tongue. Your thighs pressed into his head and nearly squeezed a few times, and Joe just laughed and wrapped his arms around your legs before he carefully opened you up to him. He only thought about undressing when you tried to shove off his wrinkled shirt, and he chuckled as you frantically pulled down his shorts. Your mouth watered at the sight of his cock, and you pushed him away from your cunt in favor of suckling on the head of his cock. He grabbed at your hair, steadying himself on shivering legs, and you made him cum down your throat. You were happy, mainly because you didn’t pride yourself on your dick-sucking abilities, and Joe quickly fell down onto the bed next to you, panting, his hands shaking as he pulled you into his body and kissed you. The kiss was sloppy and messy, spit and teeth hitting together and biting lips, but it made the desire flare up in your belly again. 

“And you’re sure we can’t have sex?” you asked breathlessly, and Joe grabbed at your tits, leaning down to suck at your nipple. He looked starved for it, like he had wanted to get his mouth all over you since the moment he met you, and he glanced up at your face with his big brown eyes, his eyelashes batting beautifully. 

“Darling,” he started, low. It almost sounded like he was chastising you. “You remember my rule.” 

“Your stupid rule,” you sighed. “To hell with your rules. I need you so bad.” 

“I need you too,” Joe told you. “But no. We aren’t going to fuck. We can do anything else, just not that.” 

“Fine,” you whispered, and you pulled him back up into another sloppy kiss. He grabbed at your thigh and tugged it over his waist, and his cock bumped against your wet cunt, making you gasp. “Just the tip?” 

Joe took your begging in stride, laughing and shaking his head, and he kissed you again quickly before he laid down on his back, pulling you right up against his warm body. His arm was comforting around you, and you settled your head on his chest, listening to his rapid heartbeat as he grabbed at his phone from off the bedside table. You only saw the screen for just a moment, but you saw a litany of messages and missed calls, and you spotted one text from that mysterious Alex. It was a longer message, one that you couldn’t read all of before Joe turned off his phone and set it back on the table, but you did catch a small bit of it— a name. Apparently, Alex was pissed, because it seemed as if he had used Joe’s full name in the text: Joseph Quinn.

You mind reeled as you snuggled up to him, and Joe was none the wiser, now flicking through the television channels to find something to watch. Joseph Quinn. You knew that name. Why did you know that name? Quinn. That wasn’t that common of a surname. Maybe it wasn’t a surname, Quinn. Maybe Quinn was a middle name. Joseph. He had admitted to you last night that his full name was Joseph, but Quinn? You knew the name Joseph Quinn, you had heard it before. Only, where had you heard it? What significance did it hold? Maybe you went to uni together, one shared class out of your entire four years there? 

“I wanna know more about you,” you told him finally. “Where did you go to uni?” 

Joe sucked hard at his cheek. “If I told you that, it would ruin the whole anonymity thing,” he said. 

“Why’s that?” you asked. “Did you go to some snobby place? Oxford or Cambridge or whatever?” 

“No,” Joe said. “It was a specialized school; if I told you, you’d know what I do for a living.” 

“Okay,” you said slowly. “So it was a vocational school. That’s not bad.” 

Joe shrugged. “Close,” he said. “But you’re not getting anything else out of me. Where did you go to uni?” 

“If you won’t tell me, I won’t tell you,” you said. “Any siblings?”

“Yes and no,” Joe said. “I’m an only child, but, when my mum and dad got divorced and he remarried, I got a brother and sister out of that.” 

“Oooh, best of both worlds,” you chuckled. “Any pets?” 

“No,” Joe laughed. “We had a cat growing up, but, as all evidence points to, I’m allergic to cats. I like dogs a lot, though; I live in a pretty small flat, or else I’d have a dog of my own.”

“Right…” you said, thinking of more questions to ask him. Still, his name rolled around in your mind, not letting you think of anything else. Joseph Quinn, Joseph Quinn, Joseph Quinn. It vexed you. You knew that you knew his name, or at least had seen it somewhere before, it was infinitesimally recognizable, but you had no idea where it came from. “Tell me about your best friend.”

“You’re asking a lot of questions,” Joe said, arching an eyebrow at you. “Any reason for that?” 

“No,” you lied. “I just wanna know about you.”

Joe chuckled and he kissed the top of your head. “Are you hungry?” he asked. “We can order room service, or get dressed and go to a restaurant?” 

“Mmm, room service,” you decided, nestling your cheek into his soft chest. He had a little rasping of hair on his chest, just the smallest amount that scratched at your skin, and you smiled, despite your ongoing confusion. 

“Good choice,” Joe said. “What do you want?” 

“I haven’t had any good pasta yet,” you said. “And I’ve never been to Italy before, so I’m not sure what’s good and what’s, like, too tourist of me.” 

“How about I order my favorite and you can try some of it?” Joe offered. “Any drinks? Dessert?” 

“Hmm,” you said softly, stretching your arm across his body and splaying your hand across his belly. “Dessert sounds good.” 

“Oh, yeah?” Joe hummed. He seemed to know what you meant, because he caught your chin with his fingers and gently kissed your lips, and he turned back to you fully and kissed you again, deeper and harder. “Maybe we should skip the pasta and go straight to dessert.” 

“Maybe we could,” you told him, kissing the corner of his mouth, and you easily slipped out of bed. “But somebody won’t allow dessert.” 

“Love,” Joe said, plastering a pathetic pout on his bottom lip. “Come back to bed.” 

“In a minute,” you told him teasingly. “When you change your mind about dessert.” With that, you slipped into the restroom, closing the door behind you. 

Your heart was racing, and you pressed your hand to your chest. You knew him. You absolutely had to. Why else would you recognize his name? If only you had your phone, you could have texted Lily and asked after him. Maybe he was one of her old boyfriends. 

Damn it! You shoved a breath out of your chest and reached into the shower and turned it on, all the way to the hot, and you stepped under the spray. If you were now sleeping with Lily’s ex, that wouldn’t be too good. In your defense, you weren’t sure that that’s who he was, but all signs pointed to something like that. He was part of your life somehow already, before Italy, and you couldn’t for the life of you come up with how exactly you knew him. 

Before you could ponder any further, the door to the bathroom opened, and you watched Joe’s form through the steamy glass shower door. He hesitated before he stepped in behind you, and he wrapped his arms around your middle before settling his chin on your shoulder. “I had an ex,” he started softly. “And she… It’s hard to explain without telling you everything, but she… She used me. Used me to get to places that she couldn’t before, and didn’t give much of a shit about who she hurt in the process, including me. My friends tried to tell me she was bad for me, but I was so blinded by her that I didn’t… I couldn’t see it. And I can’t be blinded like that again. So, I said no sex to try to stop that from happening again. But I… I can’t explain it, but I already trust you. I know you wouldn’t do that to me. You’re too… You don’t… You like me for me.” 

You wanted to quip back “As opposed to someone else?”, but his hitching breath stopped you from your smart-alec reply. Instead, you said, “No sex.” 

“We can,” Joe said softly. “If you really want to.” 

“It’s one of your rules,” you said. “No work questions, no finding each other, and no sex. I was teasing you more than anything. But now I know.” 

Joe sighed and he kissed between your shoulder blades, resting his forehead against the back of your neck. “Thank you for this,” he said. “I know it doesn’t make any sense to you, but it’s… You’re just what I needed.” 

The hot shower beat down on both of you, but it didn’t burn. You supposed that, as long as you were in Joe’s arms, nothing could hurt you. That seemed like his way— gentle and protective and good. So what if you knew him? If you didn’t then, you do now, and that’s what mattered.

-

taglist: @wordscomehither @aol19 @sadbitchfangirl @cluelesslilsharkie @emma77645 @zestychili @aysheashea @ali-r3n @ace-harrington

[queen-of-deans-booty]

The Things They Carried: Part One

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.8k

Warnings: canon angst and violence, extra angst

Summary: Cole is back in Dean's life, not to kill him but to ask for his help. A worm is making its way through people and eventually through Cole, giving you the perfect opportunity to get the chaos you're craving.

Season Ten Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. I love seeing any and all comments <3

x

The room you've been trapped in is a bit lighter instead of being pitch-black darkness. There is enough light shining in to see that this room doesn't have any windows. How is the light getting in?

"Hello? Anyone there? Someone please help me," you yell.

In a fit of frustration, you send a ball of blue magic at the wall and it bounces off several before exploding at your feet. You turn and see a door with a small window on it that wasn't there a second ago. You've stared at this wall for several days and there hasn't been a door there. Now there is. Where the hell are you? What is going on? You walk over to the door and peer through the window. The window is small enough that you can't see much but then someone walks by and your heart soars in happiness.

"Dean! Dean! I'm in here! Hey!" You bang on the door to get his attention but all he does is walk back and forth in front of the door like he's on patrol. "Dean, please help me. I want to go home!" You keep banging on the door in hopes it'll get him to come over. "Please! Dean!"

Dean winces in pain and presses his fingers to his temples. His headaches are getting worse and if he thinks hard enough, he can hear you begging and crying out for him. No, he must be imagining things. He wants to imagine you near him. Your voice isn't real. It's all in his head. Through the pain of his headache, he gets dressed for the day and heads to the library where Sam is. The Bunker door opens and he pops his head into the war room to see you come down the metal stairs in last night's clothes.

"Where have you been all night?"

"You're not my mother. I don't have to tell you everything I do," you scoff.

"Hey, come check this out. I think I got something," Sam says from the library.

"A case? What case?"

"I thought you weren't interested in hunting anymore?" Dean asks as you two walk into the library.

"Well, I've got nothing better to do at the moment. Plus, I'm not interested in saving people. Hunting is a different story. I'll be in the car."

"You didn't hear what the case was about."

"I don't care," you say as you walk out of the library.

Sam shakes his head and hands over a tablet with an article about a soldier who has died.

"The vic was trained in Krav Maga and jiu-jitsu, and she still ended up with her organs drained, and the marrow was sucked completely out of the bones."

"Cannibalism? Are you thinking it's a rugaru?"

"Or a God, maybe."

"Give me ten and I'll meet you by the car."

After the long drive to North Carolina, you walk into the Fayetteville police station and are greeted by a group of police officers enjoying pieces of cake. The bell on top of the door rings and they all look at you. One of them sets his cake down and breaks apart from the group to greet you.

"Agents, l gather?"

Uh, was it the suits, or do we give off some sort of a Fed stench?" Dean asks.

"It's the suits," the sheriff stutters. "What can l do for you folks?"

"We are here investigating the death of Private Jackie Prescott."

"Sorry to waste your time, agents, but you wasted a trip. We wrapped that one up hours ago. We know the man who did it--Rick Willis."

"What makes you so sure it was him?"

The sheriff grabs the murder file and flips through the pages.

"His fingerprints were all over the storage room out on the base where he did it. He even left his dog tags by the body."

"Is he in custody?"

"No, the bastard drank a boatload of gasoline and then lit himself on fire. Helluva way to go, if I'm honest. He left behind a wife and baby. He's the third suicide we've seen in six months. Would you like some cake?"

"Yeah," Dean immediately says.

Sam stops him from grabbing it and Dean pouts slightly.

"No, uh, you know what? Uh, we're okay," Sam stutters.

"No, it's really good. My partner made it."

"It looks great, but we're alright. We do have one more question. Were there any bite marks found on the body?"

"No. The vic was killed with a Bowie."

"Thanks for your time."

You three leave and you let your hair down in soft waves. It hurts when you have your hair in a ponytail.

"Well, that's a waste of our time. I say we head to the beach," you grin.

"We're not leaving," Sam rolls his eyes. "No bite marks means a rugaru didn't do it. What are you thinking? A God?"

"I don't think so. The guy Molotov-cocktailed himself. That's bonkers. That's like demon-possession bonkers. We should talk to Rick's wife if she's up for it."

That's where you head next. You're waiting for them to royally screw this up. You're not interested in saving people. You're not interested in their lives. You're only interested in the chaos all this death is going to bring you. That's why you tagged along. If something tragic doesn't start soon, you're going to have to make your own.

Beth, Rick's wife, let you into her house to talk to her even though she doesn't seem in the right mind to answer questions. Sam and Dean handle all the questioning while you're off to the side looking at the many pictures she has of her and her husband. You're so glad you're not plagued by pictures of your past.

"Rick did it." You pull your eyes from the pictures and look at her. "I'm not trying to say that he didn't. I mean, he just got back from deployment and we've all seen what it can do to a soldier's mind. My Rick . . . when he's home and good . . . I have to kill the spiders, you know? Rick was a kind soul. He never took more life than he had to."

Did you notice anything strange or weird like violent mood swings? Or weird smells?" Sam asks.

"No, but Rick was so... He was thirsty."

"Thirsty for what?"

"Water. He'd spend half the day drinking from the garden hose. Then, one night, I caught him in the tub drinking the bathwater. When l told him to stop, it was like he couldn't even hear me. His skin got so dry it bled."

"Did he see a doctor?"

"I took him to the VA but he just got on a list to get on a list. Then, he stopped talking and just wasn't himself. I thought maybe it was PTSD," she cries.

You roll your eyes in annoyance. This is not the kind of tragedy you're hoping for.

"We're very sorry," Sam sighs.

"You said that Rick was recently deployed. Do you have any idea where?"

"No, that stuff is classified. They don't even let the wives in on it."

"Okay, we'll leave you alone now but if something comes up, anything at all, please give us a call."

Sam hands her his business card. You're the first one to the door, eager to get the hell out of here, but she stops you.

"There's one other thing. I ran into my friend Jemma at the supermarket. She's married to Kit Verson, a guy from Rick's team. She thinks Kit came back different this time. Kind of felt like we were dealing with the same thing."

"Thank you."

You three leave and you turn to the brothers.

"I don't remember hunting being this irritating."

"You're the one who wanted to come with us. This is part of hunting. Either shut the hell up or leave."

You glare at your husband but don't say another word about it. Jemma, once she knows you just came from Rick's house, eagerly lets you in to tell you her story. Much like before, you let the brothers handle the questioning while you're off to the side looking at pictures of her and Kit.

"Can you tell us more about Kit?" Sam asks.

"Kit's been going through some stuff for sure. It takes him a while to get back to normal, but he always does."

"What about you? How are you holding up?"

"I'm okay, for the most part. With what happened to Rick and Beth... it's been hard."

"May we speak to your husband?" Dean asks.

"He went out last night but he should be back any minute. You know, he comes back from these deployments and he needs his space."

"He's been out all night?" you ask.

"Yeah." Both brothers look at each other with knowing looks. "God. I can't even convince myself. I'm worried. This isn't like him."

"Has he been thirsty? Like 'drink out of the dog bowl' thirsty?"

"How did you know?" she gasps.

You look out the window and see Cole Trenton, the man who has been obsessed with Dean even when he was a demon. You lock eyes with Dean and gesture to him with your eyes, and he stands up quickly. You don't bother saying anything to Jemma as you leave her house, but Sam and Dean wrap up the conversation quickly. Cole is leaning against the Impala with his arms crossed.

"I recognized your wheels."

"What the hell are you doing here?" Dean asks.

"Jemma called me in. I've known Kit since we were military brats raisin' hell on the same base. He's a good man."

"No one's saying he's not."

"Oh, really, now? So, what are you three here for, Jemma's sweet tea? You want to tell me why you're really here?"

"You got a lot of nerve coming in and demanding answers," you glare and step up to him. "Watch yourself."

"Hey, stop," Dean whispers and pulls you away from Cole. "We're working a case."

"Kit's case?"

"Honestly, we're not sure just yet but it's looking like it."

"Says you."

"You really want to dial it back, hot shot," you smirk. You raise your hand and show off your powerful magic. It's only a wisp or two but it's enough to send a message. "Or you might not like what happens next."

"There's a murder-suicide in town. Your buddy Kit is in the same unit as the killer with the same whacked-out antics. Like it or not, we're not going anywhere. If you care about your friend, you'll let us handle this."

"Nah, I think I'm coming with you."

"The hell you are," you scoff.

"I got contacts. I can help. For example, a friend of mine works in military intelligence who owes me a favor."

"Would he know what Rick and Kit's mission was?" Sam asks.

"Sure, and he'd tell me all about it."

Sam and Dean look at each other before sighing.

"Fine," Dean rolls his eyes.

"No, it ain't. I'm going to make sure my friend comes home in one piece, okay? l know what you three are thinking, but we are not gonna hunt my best friend who happens to be a fucking war hero, by the way. We are gonna find him, and that's the difference."

"No, I was thinking how pretty your head would look like on a stick," you shake your head.

"Stop it. I mean it," Dean hisses in your ear.

"Listen, we're right there with you. Kit's a hero, but you have to prepare yourself. Kit might not be Kit anymore," Sam says.

Dean decides this is a good time to get some food so he takes everyone to the nearest joint that serves a good burger. Everyone gets something but you. You're not hungry for food. With Cole being here, it might raise the exact trouble you're looking for.

x

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[brainrotcharacters]

She Wasn't Always Like That part 2 (It's Too Much)

ship: Ghost x reader

summary: "When I burn out, I want you with me." But he wasn't there.

tags: sfw. angst comfort. reader is a member of 141. no labels with Ghost they just care for each other a lot.

part 1

You're being held for ransom.

It was taking all of Ghost's willpower not to slip away from the others, take a chopper, and run through every single one of those bastards to get to you. He could do it; everyone knew he was capable and dedicated enough to do it and succeed. Instead he and the rest were grounded at base, one eye on the live feed on the screen showing you, beaten up on the wet floor, blindfolded, stripped to your underwear and restrained against a thick metal pole. The rest of the room was pitch black, save for the occasional thug passing the camera to swing a punch or a kick at you.

Ghost opened his hand slowly. Then closed it. And opened it again. He did his best to match his breathing with the movement.

"Are they gonna take any longer?" Gaz lifted his head towards the main building. Price and Laswell were in there, negotiating with the higher ups about the wisdom in taking you back. Price had explicitly ordered them to stand down until a decision was made. What good would it do to get you out of there if your own people would shoot you down as soon as you came home?

Soap cursed under his breath as he noticed the screen: one of the henchmen grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked it towards the pole behind your head. The shout of pain that left your cut lips was accompanied by the resounding clang of your skull against the metal. Under the light, your swollen and bleeding right eyelid was visible, as well as the dried blood down your nostrils to your right cheek.

I want you with me. The words condemned Ghost now.

Soap and Gaz stood on either side of his chair, postures tense and ready to take off. Without Price there, Ghost was technically in command. He could stand right now and the boys would make sure a chopper is up and running. You'd be just as relentless if it had been any of them.

"Where the hell are they?" Soap glanced back at the main building.

Ghost checked his wristwatch. 10... 9... 8... He stood from his seat. "On your feet, boys. We're going after Y/n."

Gaz extended a hand, but didn't stop walking. None of them did. "Wait, hold on a minute. They need to come back out first, don't they?"

"The captain gave me a signal, Garrick."

"Lt, what signal?" asked Soap.

Inside the main building, Laswell casually crossed her legs in front of her. Price returned to her side, setting down their cups of tea beside each other on the table. Across the space, the higher ups shifted uncomfortably, despite the number of soldiers behind them. "You won't be able to return to your 141 to give any sort of signal to save Y/n L/n."

"The signal," Price nearly choked on his tea, laughing. "Kate, should you do the honors, or shall I?"

"I got it." Laswell smiled, not even looking at him. Price smiled behind his mug. "Gentlemen. The signal is us not returning."

Soap boarded the helicopter, one hand on the display screen showing you as they put cloth around your mouth. Gaz already joined Ghost at the cockpit, flicking on the controls.

Laswell went on. "When L/n comes back, and the whole base celebrates because she's a reasonably popular person, I'll tell her everything. How you think a broken nose and three busted ribs is enough to make her talk, how you delayed the rest of her team from coming to get her... and then some."

"Is that a threat, Laswell?"

"Should it be?" 

The helicopter was airborne within thirty seconds. Soap and Gaz both noticed how Ghost used up more fuel more quickly. They didn't address it.

Price used a remote to switch on a screen. The live feed of your injured body flickered to life. "Why don't you take a seat, boys? Kick your feet up. You'd want to see this."

--

It was mere seconds before they reached to cut your tongue out that one of their phones rang. The man behind the camera fished the device from his pocket, lifting it to his ear.

He said to a third henchman, "It's for her."

The other man took the phone. "I don't believe you can demand―"

The helicopter engine was switched off. Ghost's gravelly voice had to come through perfectly.

"Your location is 435 South Boulevard, Floor Six, Pallon City. There are three fighter jets exactly ten miles south, and explosives fifteen miles north, directly over your precious greenhouses. Put the woman on the phone or else you'll be fertilizer."

Soap smirked, knowing the explosives were a bluff. Still, if Ghost asked, he would have his things set up.

The third man handed you the phone, and you ached to lift your shoulder and keep the phone pressed up your ear. "Y/n."

"Tangina, ang ganda ng boses mo." He knew it was a cue to listen when you switched languages. No matter how flustered he felt when he understood you. "Sumagot ka ng oo, please. Napansin mo ang mga windmill? Timog-kanluran."

Ghost watched you from the display screen Soap shared to them. He glanced at the tops of the windmills nearby, and said to the phone. "Yes."

"Tanging kuryente nila dito 'yan. Pakisuyo? Bigyan mo kong trenta segundos. Salamat."

"Alright, enough." The henchman took back the phone. "You speak Span―?"

He didn't finish his sentence when the heel of your foot flew up his crotch. The sudden pain made him double over, close enough for you to headbutt him. Your bare legs wrapped around his body in a vise grip.

"Are you good with guns, boys?" you purr at the two goons now aiming guns at you. "Let's play pin cushion."

"Don't shoot!" the third man waved his flabby hands. As far as your legs would let him, anyway. "Don't shoot!"

You looked down your nose at your captive. "Untie these ropes."

His trembling hands went around you to peel off the restraints. You couldn't help yourself from mocking. "Not quite what you imagined when you thought about getting between a woman's legs, is it? Aww." 

Something warm that had nothing to do with the weather climbed up Ghost's neck. He stood from his seat. "She needs those windmills down. I got it."

"I let you go, you let me go." The trembling man was saying, finished with the last of the binds around your wrists.

"Alright," you relaxed your legs, waiting for the back of his neck to touch your instep. 

In a heartbeat, your other foot shoved against his jaw and snapped his neck. His body fell to the ground limp. Dead.

No hesitation or regret in your expression, clear for the camera to see. There was only a cockiness, a destructive glint in your eye when the two men fired their guns. You quickly heaved the corpse in front of you as a human shield, and when their bullets ran out, tossed the body into one person.

The other man lifted a second handgun. You ducked low, punching him in the side of his knee and between his legs. One hand rose to his extended wrist, keeping the gun aimed away from you, and your other hand grabbed his jaw to direct his momentum downward. 

He crashed to the ground with a loud thud, gun sliding off three inches away. You gave him the liberty of unconsciousness, too. 

The remaining goon had a knife. He enjoyed to brandish it, swinging wildly at you. You allowed him to back you into a corner. "Nowhere left to go, little missy."

On the drawer you bumped into, there was a face towel big enough to cover that blade. You snatched it free in the same moment that he swung the knife from high above your heads. You wrapped the towel around the blade, following his momentum until you lifted his arm back up and brought it across your shoulders. The knife slipped from his grip to yours. 

You buried the blade deep into his chest, dragging it down to his gut and twisting the handle for good measure. Fresh blood gushed out, warming your hands. You kept your eyes on his face, wordlessly daring him to continue living. He didn't. 

In a movement so slow it was eerie, you faced the camera. Right. Was it still live? You didn't particularly care. With a gun and a knife in your hands, you walked off screen.

Alarms blared. All the entry points to the building began to close, and through the intercom, through the live feed that now showed the metal pole and the corpses of your captives, a calmer male voice was heard. "Just like that, trapped, Y/n." 

The broadcast room was on the fifth floor― six men remained between you and the ringleader. You giggled, returning to the camera. "What we have here is a failure to communicate." 

"Oh, don't say it." smirked Gaz. Soap was grinning already. 

"I'm not trapped in here with you," you grinned, and the person that stared back through your eyes wasn't quite you anymore. "You're trapped in here with me." 

Then the power inside the building went out.

Ghost must be done with the windmills. Gaz murmured. "He's got good timing." 

You pelted the camera at the far wall, watching the lens crack and flicker. You shot it twice, too, just to be sure. 

It was a running joke between you, Ghost, and Pierce, that you 'enter the zone'. A killing calm that reduced you to your baser instincts. You stopped being Y/n, stopped being human, and became this thing that moved up, down, left, right, slashing and swinging. There were nine people per level of the building, and as you went, nine became five, then two, then none. The ringleader must have already bled out from his split throat by the time you reached ground level and the doors opened up again.

Ghost beelined for the building directly, knowing Gaz and Soap are on their way. Smoke from the grenades and tear gas you used floated up the threshold, and it was taking too long to clear...

"Simon?"

Oh, he hated hearing your voice crack. It didn't sit well in his gut. "Yeah, love. It's me."

Your silhouette rushed at him from the smoke, and then there were your hands grasping at his vest, face pressed into the material as you shuddered. "Get me away get me away get me away―"

He freed one hand to hold the back of your head, and you settled down. Slightly. "Johnny and Gaz are here, too. Come on. Let's get out of here."

Half-heartedly, you pulled away. Ghost noticed how sheer your clothing looked, and was about to check which blood wasn't yours when Soap's voice was heard. "Y/n! Thank fuck you're alive."

"Johnny, carry her out. Gaz, lead." Ghost took two steps back, scanning the surroundings.

Gaz nodded, twisting back the way they arrived. "Copy."

"This alright?" Soap reached to lift you from behind your knees and behind your back. You mutely nod, ignoring every instinct that wanted to make a joke just to get that serious expression off his face.

When Soap secured you in his arms, he turned back. Over his shoulder, Ghost was watching you. 

You stared back. Burned out. Nothing had ever terrified him more. 

He blinked three times. You okay?

You blinked twice. No. 

He blinked four times. Do you need me?

You broke eye contact, burying your face in Soap's shoulder. Conversation over. Too tired. Too much.

Ghost shifted his attention back to the surroundings. Later. Deal with the awful twisting in his stomach later. 

[bteezxyewriter12]

please make a smut about san being jealous :>>

Envy

Pairing- San x Named Reader

Word count- 2.9k

Includes- Jealousy, Dom San, rough sex, missionary, oral, pussy eating, cum eating, sex from behind, squirting, multiple orgasms, crying from pleasure, fludd

Tag List- @mingtina @jaxxmine @yeosayang @delightfulmoonbanana @tannie13 @y00nzin0 @marsstarxhwa

@yeosxxx @seokwoosmole @jjongsbebe @wisejudgedragonhairdo @meowmeowminnie @woo-stars @borntowalkaway @usagionthered @san-realblkwife @seonghwasstar @jejeyeppeo @soulseobi05 @kpop-bambi

Masterlists- check out for more fics

📝Masterlists 📝ATEEZ Masterlist 📝San Masterlist

San POV

"You're so funny Woo", she giggles, holding her hand to her mouth, her shoulders shaking, her face turning red

Poking my tongue in my cheek, I watch her and Wooyoung, annoyed

She's my girlfriend, not his

He knows I haven't seen her much these last two weeks because of the comeback and constant shows

I've complained about how much I miss her

And as soon as she comes over he invites her to watch the TV show he, Jongho, Yeosang and Yunho are watching

Some K-drama

She agreed to one episode and I had no choice to follow her

I know she's doing it to be polite

But still, he just keeps cracking jokes at the show and she finds them hilarious

I would too if I wasn't so annoyed

And jealous

He's flirting with her and although I doubt she notices and she's definitely not flirting back, I'm jealous

Also she's giving him her attention and I want it

I know I'm being a baby but I can't help it

I miss her

All I want is her in my arms, kissing me, holding me and instead I'm here, watching Wooyoung make her laugh

"Naekkeo", I call

She looks over at me, reassuring me, "It's almost over Sannie"

I know that but I don't want to wait anymore

I waited long enough

"Baby", I try again but she ignores me as she continues to talk to Wooyoung

He's talking about something that just happened in the show

I don't care

I keep trying to get her attention but she's not paying attention

Standing up, I say, "Naekkeo, I need to talk to you for a second"

She turns to me, "Right now?"

I nod, "Now"

"I'll pause it", Wooyoung says, grabbing the remote

"Oh no, you guys keep watching. Don't worry about me"

"It's ok Jo. We'll wait", Jongho adds

"Well alr-", she starts

I interrupt, grabbing her hand and pulling her up

"Alright San, Jesus", she grumbles, following me

Getting into my room, I close the door while she turns to me

"What is it?", she asks

I don't say anything, just move to her, hugging her

Her arms move around me, holding me and I'm in heaven

"Sannie, what do you have to talk to me about?", she asks

"Nothing. I just want you"

She pulls back, looking at me, "Are you serious? You don't have anything to tell me?"

I shake head

"What the hell San? You're making them pause the show for nothing!"

"You're my girlfriend! You're supposed to be with me", I whine

She stares at me like I'm crazy, "Are...are you jealous?"

Crossing my arms, I look away, staying silent

"Oh my god you're jealous", she says bursting into laughter, "What the hell are you jealous of? You get me all night"

"Stop", I say, my cheeks heating up

"You're seriously jealous of Wooyoung?"

No

Not of Wooyoung

Of the attention she's giving him, the time she's given him that she should be giving to me

But I'm not saying that

She's already laughing at me

"God you're such a baby", she exclaims

I feel myself getting angry

I'm already annoyed and this is just adding to it

"I'm gonna go finish the show", she says giggling, "You need to relax San"

She starts to move around me and I snatch my hand out, grabbing her arm

"He's flirting with you"

"No he's not", she snorts

"Yes he is. The jokes, the smiles, the looks, his flirty eyes. He's flirting with you"

She laughs, "Please San. He's not and even if he is so what? I'm not flirting with him"

My annoyance grows every time she laughs

"You think it's funny that I'm jealous of the attention you're giving someone else when it should be given to me?"

"Yes San", she says, "It's your friends. My friends. There's nothing to be jealous of. You need to get over it"

Get over it?

"You're seriously going back to Wooyoung right now?"

She rolls her eyes, "Cut it out. I'm going to watch the rest of the show"

"Joanne"

"Oh god San, stop. Stop being a baby!"

A baby?

Wanting to spend time with her is being a baby?

Not a chance

"I'm not being a baby"

"Yes you are. And right now I'd rather be hanging out with Wooyoung instead of dealing with your jealousy"

"You'd rather be with Wooyoung?", I growl, "You'd rather he'd flirt with you?"

She narrows her eyes, "Yes"

I know she's saying it to egg me on and I shouldn't give into the anger I feel but fuck it, I'm already there

"Get on the fucking bed", I growl

"What?", she snaps

"Get on the fucking bed", I respect

She scoffs, "No"

"Do it or I'll make you"

She laughs, angering me more, "I'd like to see you try"

Fine then

Bending down, I pick her up, slinging her over my shoulder

"San! What the fuck!", she yells

Not answering, I walk to my bed while she yells

"Put me down"

Alright

Tossing her on the bed, she bounces a few times before she stops moving, glaring up at me

Ignoring her glare, I reach for her pants, pulling them down

"What are you doing?"

"Reminding you who you belong to", I snap, pulling her panties off, then getting out of my bottom clothes

"I don't belong to-"

"Be quiet and open your legs"

She scoffs but when I take my shirt off, she stops, staring at me

I know she thinks I'm hot

She says it enough and times like this when I'm shirtless or naked and she stops talking, just staring proves that she's telling the truth

It's fine, I'm the same way when she's naked

She's fucking perfect and I just stare in awe, wondering how the fuck I got her

Speaking of, I pull her up, pushing her shirt up and off, then undoing her bra, throwing it over my shoulder

Pushing her back down, I repeat, "Open your legs. Or I will"

Her legs automatically spread open and I just smirk

Getting on the bed, I hover over her, slamming my cock inside her in one stroke

"Oh god", she whimpers, taking me perfectly

"Hmm soaked already", I say, pulling back and shoving back inside her

Starting off with a fast, hard pace, I fuck into her, watching her body shake in pleasure, her pretty moans, echoing in the room

"Would you get this wet for Wooyoung?", I snap, hooking my arms under her knees, holding her wide open

"No"

"No? But you want to hang out with him instead of me"

Barreling into her, I hit her spot, her cunt drenching me, her screams loud

Her cunt is wrapped perfectly around me, throbbing hard, pleasure all over me

Fuck me, I love being inside her

I'm almost too big for her tiny pussy, we're a very snug fit

Still she opens up for me perfectly, letting me fill her over and over and screams for more

"No", she cries

Fucking her mercilessly, moving her legs over my shoulders, I growl, "No? Then who does your pussy belong to?"

"You", she cries, her body arching, eyes squeezed shut and my god she's stunning

"Oh yea?", I snarl, "Whose cock belongs inside you?"

"You!"

"Say my name!", I yell, wanting Wooyoung and all of them to know to fuck off when it comes to her

She's mine and only mine

"You, San!"

"Yeah me? Who's cock do you cum on?"

"Yours San! Your cock", she shouts, her hands gripping the sheets tightly, twisting in them

Her pussy is like a fucking waterfall, soaking my pelvis and my sheets under her

And I still pound into her so hard that she moves up the bed and I have to hold on to her hips, pulling her back down, closer to me, every thrust

"Who do you fucking belong to?", I shout

"You San! Only you!", she cries, her cunt so fucking tight around me, as I continue to impale her on my cock, "Fuck Sannie! Wanna cum! Oh fuck"

Her eyes open, looking so fucked out, tears falling from them

"Look at you, crying on my cock", I mock, "Can Wooyoung make you feel this good?"

"Nnn..no", she hiccups

"Damn fucking right no. I belong inside you. You're fucking mine! You cum on my cock, I cum in your tight pussy. All of you is fucking mine!", I shout

"Yes Sannie!"

"So when I tell you to stay with me, you do it!"

She nods, "Yes, ok"

"When I tell you to get on the fucking bed and open your fucking legs, you fucking do it"

"Ok! Ok!", she cries

"Damn right. Scream my name! Tell everyone in this fucking dorm who you fucking belong to!", I shout, the slapping sound of me fucking into her so loud, feeling fucking incredible

"I belong to you San!", she screams

"Good girl", I growl, "Fucking cum right now"

Hitting her deeply, her body squirms as she screams my name, pussy clamping down on my cock in a vice grip

Her pussy explodes squirting so fucking much, she's gushing everywhere

I've never seen her squirt this much before

I fucking love it

"Yes fuck! Squirt for me baby!", I yell, fucking her through her orgasm, her squirt flying everywhere

As her orgasm tapers off, her body shivers, her cunt loosening around me

Her chest heaves, breathing hard, her eyes closed

"Good girl. Fuck you're so pretty when you cum naekkeo"

She moans softly as I pull out of her

My dick is covered in her cream, more of it leaking from her

Moving off the bed, I kneel on the floor, pulling her to the edge of the bed

Holding her legs open, I bury my tongue in her pussy, licking furiously, moaning at her sweet tastes

"Oh god Sannie", she whimpers, her legs immediately shaking around my head

I go at her hard, running my hands up and down her thighs as I eat her pussy

Licking along her slit, I push between her puffy lips with my tongue, reveling in how she feels against it

So soft, so fucking wet

Running my tongue over her clit, she shudders as it throbs against my tongue

"Fuck, I love this clit baby", I moan, sucking it into my mouth, playing with her, "So swollen naekkeo. Throbbing so hard. So good to suck on"

"Sannie", she moans, her hand moving towards my head

She keeps missing my hair, so I grab her hand and put it in my strands

"Feels too good, you can't find my hair baby?"

"Yes", she cries

I spend some time playing with her clit, sucking hard, licking, tugging, anything to keep it in my mouth

Her pussy just keeps getting wetter and wetter, my chin and neck soaked, drops of her juice running down to my chest

Dragging my tongue down, I spread her lips, licking around her hole while using my thumb to keep playing with her clit

"Please Sannie", she begs

Slipping inside her, she gasps, immediately clenching my tongue

Groaning loudly, I fuck my tongue into her, every pulse of her pussy sending pleasure down my spine

"Oh god, oh god", she cries, "I'm gonna cum"

"Oh yeah?", I tease, knowing by her spasms she is indeed going to cum, "Where are you gonna cum?"

"You're mouth Sannie!", she yells, "You're tongue. I'm gonna cum on your tongue...I'm gonna....fuck!"

As she climaxes, I shove my tongue as deeply as I can, her delicious cream covering my tongue and my mouth

I can't help but moan, swallowing over and over

God, I can't get enough

Once her throbbing dies down, I pull my tongue out, swallowing then go back for more

Running my tongue all around her entrance, I clean her pussy until there's no more cum

Standing up, I flip her on her stomach, hooking my arm around her waist, moving her up the bed as I get on it

"Need to cum in my pussy", I inform her

Getting her on her hands and knees, I move my hard cock to her hole, pushing inside right away

She takes me and I watch her hole split around my thickness, straining the more I get in

Bottoming out, I press right against her ass, feeling the soft fluttering of her pussy

"Oh god, fuck. So fucking good naekkeo. God I love your cunt"

"I love your cock Sannie", she murmurs softly

"Mmm baby. Your pussy was made for me"

She nods, her body shivering as I run my fingers slowly up her back

"Ready baby?"

"Yes Sannie"

"Good girl", I praise, pulling out, then quickly shoving my cock back in, bottoming out

"Oh god", she cries when I hit her spot, shivering

Holding her hips, I fuck her slowly but hard and so deeply

In and out, over and over, her pussy clenching so fucking tightly with each hit

It's feels fucking intensely blissful

"Fuck baby, you cream my cock so well", I praise, watching her cream completely cover my cock

A pretty ring of white cream forms around the base of my cock and fuck me, I live to see that

When she creams that much, I know I'm giving it to her good

"Sannie", she whines, "You feel so good"

"Yeah baby?", I ask, my movements not changing as I fuck my pretty girlfriend

"Yeah"

"Well baby you feel fucking amazing. My tight little pussy is fucking perfect for me"

She moans softly, "Want your cum Sannie"

"Do you naekkeo?", I groan

"Yes. Want to feel your cock throb inside me, want to feel you fill me so much it leaks all over my legs"

"Goddamn naekkeo", I moan, the tight pull of her cunt bringing me so close, "Cum for me baby. I wanna fill your coming cunt"

I move into her a few more times and she snaps, coming around my cock, her cream coating my shaft

Ecstacy blinds me as I shove my cock inside her, shooting cum deep inside her

"Joanne fuck!", I yell, "Fuck, you're pussy feels so good! Oh fuck"

Her orgasming pussy milks my cock completely, sucking all my cum out

Jesus Christ, it feels amazing

When I finish, I pull out and she collapses face first on the bed

I move next to her, moving her hair off her face, kissing her shoulder blade and feeling her skin tremble against my lips

"I love you naekkeo", I tell her

"I love you baby", she answers tiredly

Leaning over her, I kiss her cheek, then get up

Pulling my boxers on, I leave the room, getting to the bathroom

Quickly washing my dick, I get a clean hand towel and wet it

On my way back to my room, Wooyoung walks towards me on his way to his room

"You really didn't have to fuck her that loud and make her scream those things. We all know she's yours", he says annoyed

"Didn't stop you from flirting with her", I snap

"Oh my god, I was joking around, I wasn't flirting. Jeez, get your fucking jealousy in check man", he snaps, "You successfully made all of us uncomfortable. Seonghwa came out of his room and asked what was going on. Hongjoong came home to hear you guys and he was so annoyed because he was exhausted! If you wanna fuck that hard the do it at her apartment!"

I shrug, "I did it to make a point"

"Yeah I got it. We all fucking got it. Cut it out next time", he snaps, then continues to his room

I don't really care about any of them hearing us

I wanted them to hear us so they know

Don't fuck with me or my naekkeo

Getting back in my room, I smile when I hear her cute soft snores

Sitting in the bed, I gently move her to her back, opening her legs and cleaning up the mess we made

Throwing the towel on the floor after I finish cleaning her, I lift her as best I can, putting her in the bed, tucking the covers around her

Shutting the light off, I get into the bed next to her, moving her into my arms

"Sannie?", she murmurs, her eyes opening halfway

"Yeah naekkeo, I'm here"

"It's sleepy time?"

"Not yet but we can nap for a little baby"

"Mmm ok", she agrees

She presses her lips against mine in a sweet kiss and I completely fall into it

Slipping my tongue in her mouth, playing with her, she kisses me back just as passionately

I reluctantly break the kiss because I know she's tired

Her eyes immediately close as she lays her head on my chest, "I love you"

Smiling, I press a kiss to the top of her head, "I love you naekkeo"

She cuddles into me as I hold her tightly

I know I have no reason to be jealous when it comes to her

I know she loves me just as much as I love her and I know she'd never hurt me

I have to be better about the jealousy

I will be

Holding her, I smile as her snores reach my ears again

She's so fucking cute and I thank god she's mine

I kiss her hair again, then close my eyes, ready for a nice nap

[acourtofinkandpapyrus]

A Flower with Petals of Flame: Part Sixteen (Eris x Reader)

Warnings: Blood. LOTS OF BLOOD, murder, Amarantha

Part Fifteen Part seventeen

Tag list: @esposadomd

Don't worry, I won't kill Eris. Heheheh

“Hello Y/N.  You know, I was quite surprised when my soldiers told me that there was a purple eyed illyrian female staying with them, but here you are.”

I ground my teeth.  I had never met her in the flesh, but I would be a bad leader if I couldn’t recognise the female that kept most of Prythian locked under a mountain for years.

“Amarantha, how good to finally meet you.”  I croon, sliding a dagger into my hand discreetly. “You know, I was wondering where you went after you died, maybe you’d like to clear that up for me?”

Eris’s face was a mask of stone as he stood straight, acting as if he didn’t have a knife at his throat.

“Y/N, whatever she wants, don’t give it to her.”  Eris said, his voice stoney even as the bond tugged at my heart frantically.

He was afraid.

He was afraid I would get hurt.

Stupid male, doesn’t he realize I could obliterate this female in an instant?  The only problem was that he would probably die no matter how I went about it.

Amarantha let out a low chuckle.  “That’s a nice idea, but from what I’ve seen, she’s not going anywhere without you.”  She crooned into Eris’s ear, and I saw drops of blood forming where the knife was pressing into his skin.

“If you hurt him, I will obliterate you.”  I snarl, my magic bubbling in response to my rage.

Amarantha studies me for a moment.  “You know, I was like you not that long ago.  Hopelessly in love with a male.  Then I realized something.”

My heart threatened to beat out of my chest as she tilted the knife a tiny bit, making Eris wince as more blood droplets started to form.

“All males are the same.  This world is beyond help.”  She grins at me.  “But we both know that there are so many more.  That there is basically limitless potential, limitless potential for anyone who wants it.”

Her tone is a bit manic, and Eris has a bit of a look of confusion on his face.

But I had heard this spiel before.  I had heard myself spouting something similar after the Asteri found me.

The only difference is that I cared about the cost, found out about the downsides of dimensional travel and blanched.

Because there will always be people out there that will use that opportunity to destroy and conquer.

And I was quickly seeing that Amarantha was just that.

“Did the Asteri tell you about the whole eating souls thing?  You know, once they’re done with you, they’re just going to kill you and take it all.”  I say, hoping I can stall until Lucian, or Tamlin, or anyone found us here and killed this bitch.

She just smiled at me, as if I was a clueless child.  “You act all tough, as if you aren’t still just the little girl that was killed, and she was still only the next best thing.”

My teeth grind.  “How about you let him go and I show you exactly what the next best thing can do?”  I ask, grinning at her.

She cackled.  “Oh no.  Very simply, what I want is you to know that I’m going to tear down your brother, and everyone he cares about, until only you and him are left, and I’m going to watch you two tear eachother apart.”

She shoves him away, winnowing away as I rush to catch him.

He grabs on to me, holding me close to him.  “You should have run away.” he whispers into my hair, cradling me close to him.

I don’t let go, but I do say, “Like hell.  You know you wouldn’t have run away if the positions were reversed.”

He holds me tighter.  “No, but you weren't there under the mountain.  She is a monster.”

I had heard enough to know that those fifty years had been a living hell for all of Prythian, so I don’t argue the point anymore.

“We need to go check and see who’s alive.”  I say after a while, both of us sitting in the grass, Eris’s neck already perfectly healed.

He looked reluctant.  “Do you think that’s a good idea?”  He asked, pushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

The mating bond pulled tight between us, waiting for one of us to speak of its presence.

Now wasn’t the time.

“Good idea or no, it’s the right thing to do.”  Say, pulling away gently and standing up, looking out on the field of corpses, the grass of the spring court running red with blood.

He joins me, but I can see the worry creasing his brow.  Nonetheless, he follows me as I walk into the bloody scene.

They were all gone.  There was not a sign of life.

Eris and my gazes locked.  Had Lucian been here?

I ran the rest of the way to the manor, running through the already open doors into the horror show that was the inside of the Manor.

I had spent a couple months here with Tamlin and Lucian, helping them bring people back, helping bring this whole place back.

Amarantha had left a bloody trail to the throne rooms, and I paused in the hallway, not wanting to enter the doorway.

Eris came up beside me, taking my hand in his.  “You don’t have to go in if you don’t want to.  I can look for both of us.”

Despite the gore and horror around us, my heart warmed slightly.  He knew how I felt, and was willing to face whatever was in there for me.

I shake my head slightly.  “Together?”

He nodded.

“Together.”

[selunesdreams]

Chapter 11: I Don't Want to Charm Anyone This Time

“Why don’t you let me relieve you of that troublesome overthinking problem you have?"

Full Chapter on AO3

Astarion x Original Female Character Content (chapter): 18+, smut, oral sex, piv, descriptions of violence and injuries, emotional damage/trauma. See AO3 tags or for detailed fic tags and warnings.

Celeste returns to her room, exhausted, careful to not wake a sleeping Shadowheart. She collapses on the chaise until Shadowheart wakes her at dawn, offering her the bed. Cupping the wound on Celeste’s neck with her hand, she gives her a disapproving look, “If Gale sees that, he’ll lose his mind.” She offers some more healing, draws the curtains shut and leaves as Celeste drifts back to sleep. 

At nightfall, Celeste lights a lamp, checking herself in the mirror. She presses a wet rag from the washbasin it to her neck and winces, wiping away dried blood. The wound was healing quickly, leaving behind an ugly bruise. She didn’t bother asking for any favors from Selûne to heal an injury she’d willingly allowed a vampire to inflict. 

She dresses in a high collared blouse and leather breeches. The ocean air was icy and no one would question it. As she leaves her room, she considers knocking on Astarion’s door, but decides against it. If he wants nothing to do with her after last night, she wouldn’t push it. 

Gale and Shadowheart are eating dinner together at one of the main deck tables when she arrives. A few other passengers and crew members look her over before returning to their conversations. Celeste helps herself to bread and soup and joins them.

“Celeste, good to see you. How’s your evening?” Gale’s spirits seem higher than they’ve been in a few days. 

“As fine as could be expected.” Celeste exchanges a look with Shadowheart that reassures her she hasn’t told Gale about her and Astarion’s little blood rendezvous.

"We should make it to Baldur's Gate by nightfall tomorrow, we can-'' Gale's sentence is interrupted as Astarion joins them, lowering himself into the chair next to Gale. Gale peers at him with concern, looking over his disheveled hair and dark features. “Gods, you look like hell.” 

“Sleep well, Astarion?” Shadowheart asks in a mocking, cheerful tone. “Can I get you some goat’s blood from the kitchen?”

Astarion glares at her. “That won’t be necessary.”

“Are you sure, Astarion? When did you feed last?” Gale blows at a spoonful of soup, oblivious to the tension at the table. 

“I’m fine. I found a… cat last night.” Astarion’s gaze flicks to Celeste’s and away quickly. Gale squirms in his seat a little, setting his food back down.

“I don’t need to hear any more.” 

“Don’t worry, Gale,” Astarion says with a sneer, lowering his voice and leering at Celeste under lowered eyelids. “it didn’t put up much of a fight. Practically threw itself at me.” A wicked smile spreads across Astarion’s lips. Celeste’s stomach lurches, but her skin betrays her, heating with desire. She prays Astarion doesn’t notice. He watches her without a change in expression, lingering on the fabric covering her neck. 

“Perhaps you should put a moratorium on cats, Astarion.” Shadowheart’s voice is honeyed, carrying a veiled threat underneath. “Try something less domestic.”

“Alright, what is this?” Gale looks between the three of them, beginning to catch on. 

“It’s nothing.” Celeste says uncomfortably. Gale’s eyes narrow and before Celeste can stop him, he reaches forward and tugs the neck of her shirt down just barely enough to reveal the bruised evidence of Astarion’s presence on her skin. Shadowheart shifts in her chair while an amused Astarion raises an eyebrow, expression otherwise unchanging. Celeste stiffens and brushes Gale’s hand away, pulling the fabric up. 

“Well,” Gale leans back in his seat, crossing his arms and giving Astarion a murderous glare. “Why bother getting her away from the Sharrans in Waterdeep if you’re just going to bleed her dry? Are you insane, Astarion?” 

Astarion leans forward, speaking in a threatening whisper as he glances around at the other passengers. “I suggest you lower your voice, Gale… ”

Gale turns his head slowly towards Shadowheart. “You healed her, didn’t you?” 

“I couldn’t just leave her with an open wound, Gale. Besides, it’s not my place to-”

“So you’re all keeping secrets from me now?” Gale stands, casting the entire table a hurt look. “I’d expect it from him, but I’d never expect it from you, Shadow.” As he storms out of the hall, his betrayed expression haunts Celeste.

“Shit.” Shadowheart says, pushing herself up from the table, looking remorseful.

Astarion waves dismissively. “Leave him, he’ll be over it tomorrow.” 

“Fuck off, Astarion. Do you ever feel guilty about being the source of everyone’s bad day?” Astarion recoils at Shadowheart’s words, speechless. She chases after Gale, not giving him a chance to come up with a response. Celeste casts him a look of disgust, standing.

“Not you too. Wait, please.” Astarion reaches for her arm, but she pulls away from his grasp. 

Celeste finds her room empty and shuts the door a little too hard, but it rebounds against Astarion’s hand as he holds it open, sliding in after her. 

“Celeste, please wait for a moment.” He speaks with a pained and pleading voice, his sour expression from before now gone. Celeste sits on the chaise and gestures towards the bed. 

“Be my guest.” She says haughtily. Astarion gives an uncomfortable nod and shuts the door gently. He smooths the sheets with one hand before sitting on the edge of the mattress, arms braced behind him, positioned as if he could leap off at any moment. 

“I think we need to talk.” He glances away and then back at her. 

“This sounds ominous.” 

“It’s nothing terrible, it’s-well, maybe it is a little terrible.” Celeste raises an eyebrow. “Look,” Astarion looks at the ceiling, “I had a plan. A nice, simple plan. The moment I realized what you were, the power you had access to, I realized that I could use you. If I could seduce you, manipulate your feelings, make you think I was redeemable, get you to trust me…maybe you’d help me. It was instinctive, habits from 200 years of charming people kicked in, all you had to do…was fall for it.” Guilt veils his features as his eyelids lower. “And then last night you told me you trusted me and let me…” his voice trails off and he clears his throat. “My plan fell apart. You deserve something better than hollow words and manipulation.” 

The look on Celeste’s face could kill. “Were you ever even attracted to me? Our brief, albeit confusing, physical intimacy aside you…I knew you weren’t being genuine all the time, but I thought that the other night was at least real when you apologized.” 

Astarion stands, “it was.” He insists, desolate. His voice lowers to a whisper. “It was, and that’s why I can’t stand this, to see what I did to you last night. I wanted to consume you. At the moment, I didn’t even consider stopping. I could have killed you.” 

“But I told you to. I gave you permission. I did trust you.” Astarion shrinks at her use of past tense. “And you did stop."

“And it was an objectively stupid thing for you to do.” He reaches towards the mark he left behind on her neck. “Gods, why would you let me?” He rasps.  

“I care about you, Astarion.” Celeste approaches him and he takes a step back. 

“Don’t…don’t care.” His face contorts into something painful, ashamed, disgusted. 

“It’s too late.” She cups a hand against his cheek, “what do you need, Astarion? Other than the sun, other than to feel safe…what do you need from me? Space? Forgiveness?” She searches his face. “Just friendship?” 

“Gods, not friendship.” He says, taking her wrist and lowering it. “I want something…real, with you. But how could I ask for that? How could I hope for that?”

“You’re still working it all out. Don’t underestimate my capacity for empathizing with that.” Celeste wraps her arms around his waist. Astarion freezes, surprised, before embracing her. 

“I never could imagine being with someone again after so many years of performing intimacy on Cazador’s orders. But you…when I’d catch myself touching you, I began to…feel something. Those feelings of loathing and disgust weren’t there. I wanted to offer you pleasure, relief because I cared for you to feel those things. And it brought me pleasure too, in some strange way. And that terrified me.”

He swallows hard. “So I held back, because I didn’t want to see you that way. It puts me at risk, trusting people. Caring about people. And now there’s this…ache.” He takes her hands in his. “You are beautiful. Wonderful. Beyond anything I’ve ever encountered. It’s hard for me to not think of you as delicate. And it’s hard for me to think of myself as anything other than your undoing.”

“It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy if you let yourself believe it.” Celeste places a hand on his chest, the other smoothing his curls. 

“Then help me believe in something else.” His lips crash into hers desperately, hand moving to the back of her head, her hair weaving through his fingers.

Celeste breaks the kiss for only seconds to murmur against his mouth, “I’m stronger than you think.” 

“My most sincere apologies.” He kisses down her jaw, lingering at the bruise on her neck. Suddenly, Astarion pauses, looking up and listening for something. 

“What?” Celeste pants slightly, confused. Astarion releases her and presses his ear against the wall. “What?”

Astarion glances back at Celeste, a slight smile on his lips. He catches the sound of distant moaning and grins from ear to ear.

“It seems our friends have made up. Our dear Gale is being rather…thorough. I’m sure you would know all about that…” Astarion’s features gleam with mischief. 

“Gods.” Celeste says, blushing. 

“How…energetic. I wonder what it is about Gale being scandalized by my teeth on your neck that gets them both off?”

“You lech.” Celestia pulls him away. The thin walls still allow the muffled sound of lovemaking to be heard.

Astarion pulls her onto the bed with him. “I imagine you won’t be sleeping with the noise next door, and I won’t be welcome back…let me keep you company.” He lifts her dress over her head in one fluid motion, revealing her body to him. His breath becomes ragged. He gives her a hard stare and neither of them says a word. Slowly, she reaches for his trousers, her fingers trailing down the length of the laces. She unties them as her hand slips beneath. He hardens against her and throws her on her back into the pillows. His tongue battles for dominance against hers as his cock pulsates lazily against the bed.

The boat shifts, and she lets out a cry of surprise. Astarion pulls back, his breath quickening as he steadies himself, holding them both in place. The ship rocks, waves lapping at the sides, sending small vibrations through their cabin. 

“Are you alright?” he murmurs in her ear, easing her back down into the pillows.

“Yes, just…I’ve never been at sea.” Astarion’s gaze is far off, but she can see he’s still watching her from the corner of his eye. “Are you sure about this?” she asks. 

Astarion chuckles softly, her words drawing his attention back. “What do you mean?” 

“I’m…” Prompted by the uncertainty in her voice, Astarion reaches up and brushes her hair away from the spot where he’d bitten her the night before and kisses the bruise tenderly. She shivers. 

“I want this, dear,.” His voice filled with lustful longing. “Since I was free, I’ve labored over whether I’m ready…” he clears his throat. “And I’ve waited long enough. I want to do this. With you. Do you trust me?”

“I trust you. I just…I would be heartbroken if you weren’t ready…”

“I’ll let you know if anything changes. Now, please, you’re ruining the moment.” He pouts. 

“Okay…” He smiles, her acceptance lifting an internal burden from him. 

“Good girl…” he kisses below her ear, sending shivers down her spine. “Finally...” The tension dissipates from his body.

He stands by the bed, towering over her, and unbuttons his shirt, grinning. He lets his trousers, clinging to his thighs, fall to the floor before stepping out of them. A gasp escapes from her as he crawls back on top of her. One hand pulls her against him while his free hand slips between her thighs. She lets out a quiet moan as he strokes her teasingly until she parts for him. He traces her in a slow, circular pattern and dips two fingers inside of her. 

“If I recall, you liked this,” he murmurs into her ear. “Let’s skip the formalities, darling.” She doesn’t give a verbal response, but slides her panties down. He grins and tears them from her ankles.

Shrugging out of his shirt before spreading her legs, he grips her under the knees and pulls her down onto the mattress. His fingernails drag against her hips before he delves his tongue into her, drawing it upwards and then flatly against her center in slow, agonizing strokes before he does so more rhythmically. Fingers back inside of her, he thrusts more quickly and forcefully as he works his mouth against her. One of her arms drift to lie over her face while her other hand grasps his hair, pulling softly. He emits a soft moan against her that only makes her wetter. She tears her arm away for a moment and looks down at him. He glances up at her and holds her stare with a smirk, never breaking his rhythm, as he continues burying his mouth in her and humming against her softly. An electric burn cascades through her body as she arches her back in response to his fingers curving upward.

“Astarion, I’m going to-” 

“Hmm?” He dips his chin and gives an affirmative sound against her. Her body tenses and seizes as she climaxes around his fingers. He pulls them out, letting her release onto his tongue, her thighs squeezing against the sides of his head. His tongue’s affections do not cease until she whimpers and falls still. He hovers over her, wiping his mouth with his thumb. It catches on a fang before he sucks it clean and flicks his wrist, giving her a cocky grin. An amused laugh escapes his throat.

“What the fuck?” she pants, pushing herself up to her elbows. 

“Darling, I’m hurt,” he says with a wicked grin. “I’d hoped to make you scream. We can’t lose to our neighbors.” Astarion rolls off of her onto his back, resting his hands behind his head. 

“I’m…contemplative.” she says softly, crawling to kiss his jawline. Her breasts hang satisfactorily over him and his eyes linger for a moment. 

“Let me relieve you of that troublesome overthinking problem you have, then.” Astarion rolls her on her back and pins her wrists to the bed. He slides himself against her center, teasing her before he pushes into her. She lets out a surprised gasp as he works into her in slow, measured strokes. She groans as he looks down and watches himself move inside of her.

Fully present for the first time in his immortal life, he experiences every sensation inside of her body as he pulls his length out slowly to the edge of her, then plunges in deeper. Celeste arches as she clenches around him in a way that makes him let out a groan of pleasure.

“Come here.” He bends down and kisses her as he thrusts. He kisses down her shoulder and she lets out a surprised yelp as he thrusts more assertively. His rhythm quickens at a controlled pace. A hand slides from her hip to her clit and draws circles around it as he fucks her. His other hand grips her breast, thumb dancing against its hardened peak. She surrenders her self restraint and her cries become louder. If their neighbors hadn’t heard them yet, the entire ship had now. 

“You wicked thing,” he groans, “you’re going to make me…” She mewls and tightens, sending him over the edge. He buries a muffled groan in her neck as he finishes inside of her with a shudder. The hand at her breast slides to her hip, and he pulls himself out of her. He sidles next to her on the pillows and strokes her cheek. She’s flushed, hair a mess of curls and stray strands.

“Is this real or am I dreaming you?” He kisses her shoulder and pulls her into his chest. 

She lets out a slow breath against his skin. “It’s real,” she says with a soft laugh, burying her face in his neck. 

“Certainly not another nightmare.” Astarion absentmindedly strokes her hair, staring at the ceiling. They lie together for a moment before he sits up and pulls up the covers, tucking the thick duvet around her. He presses a lingering, soft kiss to the top of her head. The ship rocks and shifts beneath them. 

“What…is this?” Celeste asks, breaking the silence. “What are we doing?”

“I have no idea what we’re doing.” he lets out a breathy laugh. “This can be whatever you want it to be. We could be nothing more than two people enjoying each other’s company. Or…” his voice trails off as he pulls her a little closer, breath drifting against her ear, “Or we could be more, if you’d like.” 

She weighs his words. “What do you want?”

Astarion sucks his teeth. “Always so evasive.” He shakes his head, hesitating for a moment before his expression grows serious. “I’d like to know you, everything about you.” he averts his eyes and then looks back at her. “I’d like to protect you. To feel safe with you…to see the sunrise with you someday,” his hand slips down her body again, brushing against a soft spot on her side that makes her tremble, “and I’d really like to keep doing this.”

“I’d like that too.” 

“Then…” silence lingers between them as he glances down at her, his expression gentle, wanting. “Let’s keep these clothes off.”