#it was so good and had so much character exploration and depth | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

vibelladonna · 26 days ago

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✑ 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝒾𝓇 𝓀𝒾𝓃𝓀𝓈 𝜗𝜚 𝓈𝑜𝓁 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒸𝓇𝑜𝓌𝑒

· ─────── ⋆⋅ 🝣 ⋅⋆ ─────── ·

Didn't expect me to write more about Sol, did you? Honestly, I needed to do more research into his character, after all, since I kinda ignored him in the game as soon as Crowe showed up. Like, no wonder he did what he thought he had to do.

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔: 18+ NO KIDS (Adults Only) This content contains mature themes unsuitable for children. Please respect the creator's intentions.

I mixed a bit of canon and my headcanons for Crowe and Sol in this one—yep, once again! This time, I kept it focused on just four kinks to keep it short and sweet. I'm still learning about the BDSM community, and honestly, it's been really eye-opening.

A close friend (college roommate: adding on the fact she adores Sol—Sorry not sorry, love) of mine has been super helpful, sharing and explaining things about the BDSM scene to add more depth to my writing.

A lot of my inspiration comes from her, along with the Tumblr fanfic community and the original creator's work. I try to blend what feels true to the characters while throwing in my own twist. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Starting, I’ve noticed that TKATB fans have their unique preferences when it comes to Sol or Crowe.

For example, fans who gravitate toward Sol tend to enjoy the idea of him being dominant—whether it’s being in control of him or just envisioning him taking charge. It’s that mix of power and intensity that gets people excited. You know who you are, you freaks!

On the other hand, fans of Crowe are drawn to his reliability, his deep understanding, and his caring nature. He’s willing to guide you through anything, offering both emotional support and strength. It’s comforting, isn’t it? And yes, I’m a freak too—I get it.

✑ 𝒸𝓇𝑜𝓌𝑒

Naturally, I had to start with my man—Jericho, or Crowe, as he's known. He exudes a mysterious, almost savior-like presence, though the details are still unclear. I WANNA KNOW SO BAD.

His style is effortlessly sharp, and his quiet confidence makes him instantly trustworthy. Reliable, steady, and composed, Crowe is the perfect support when life feels overwhelming. His charm is subtle, blending good looks with an alluring personality—irresistible, without ever being flashy.

Now, let’s address the question: Can you see Crowe as kinky?

At first glance, no. Not. To a stranger, he’s too put together, with not even the faintest hint of anything unconventional beneath the surface. But as you get to know him, that answer begins to shift. Slowly, subtly, he reveals a side of himself that hints at complexity—an edge just beneath his polished exterior. However, don’t expect anything extreme or overtly wild.

What he does reveal is never too much but always just enough to leave you captivated—and maybe, just maybe, a little curious.

✑ Vanilla (Soft Dom…)

For Crowe preferences!

He's the ultimate soft, warm partner. Like, you just know he's all about the quiet, comforting vibes. No crazy power dynamics or rough kinks—he's all about that steady, affectionate love. It's Vanilla, but in the best way possible, full of layers. He’s not rushing anything, just enjoying the little things, taking his time, and making sure you feel heard and cherished.

When you're with him, it's all slow and gentle—he’s not here for intense extremes. His love is patient, thoughtful, and wrapped in warmth. Every touch, every word, is like a soft caress, just so deliberate and tender.

And honestly? There's no need for anything crazy. Crowe's happy to explore your connection, build that trust, and just savor the passion that grows naturally between you two. It's the kind of love that builds and lingers long after.

Now… Crowe might be a soft dom—nah he IS A SOFT DOM.

Crowe’s not the type to push you past your limits just for the thrill of it. He’s not into playing mind games or testing how far he can take things. No, Crowe’s power is the quiet kind, the kind that makes you feel safe without even having to try. He knows the real strength is in taking care of someone, not in forcing them into anything they’re not ready for.

When you’re with him, it’s like he’s always tuned into you, always listening, always aware of exactly what you need. He’s the guy who doesn’t take, but gives—gives you everything he can, with a level of care that’s almost overwhelming. And even though he’s gentle, don’t get it twisted—he’s still a tease. He’s the kind of man who’ll leave marks on your skin, a subtle reminder that you're his. But it's all in the way he leads, in that steady hand that takes yours, guiding you through every little moment.

There’s nothing loud about Crowe—other than his moans and whining. I SWEAR he has pretty moans.

He doesn’t demand anything and doesn’t rush you, but he has this way of making you feel like you’re the only person in the room. When he touches you, it’s with a confidence that leaves you breathless but also comforted. He’ll press his forehead against yours, his hand guiding yours down to your stomach, just so you can feel his bulge inside you,how much he wants you, how much he’s thinking about you at that moment.

There’s no need for words—just that connection, that intense eye contact that says everything.

But yeah, he’ll also let you think you have the upper hand for a minute. Let you believe you’ve got him cornered, like you're finally taking control… only for him to flip the switch, regaining control without you even realizing.

With Crowe, it’s not about begging or pleading for pleasure—it’s about your happiness, your satisfaction. His version of dominance is the kind that wraps around you like a warm blanket, soft and cozy. He just wants to see you smile, hear you laugh—moan, and whine under him, and know that every moment spent with him is full of happiness.

So, if you're into a soft dom who values deep emotional connection, tenderness, and affection, Crowe’s your man! He just wants you to trust him, to let go and let him care for you. Let him be there for you in every single way, in every moment.

And in that, he gives you all the security you’ll ever need.

✑ Praise (giving + receiving)

Crowe is all about Praise, and affection through words. Imagine him pulling you close, whispering in your ear while his fingers gently trace patterns along your skin.

“You’re such a good girl for me, look at how well you take me, love. That’s my girl, always so ready for me, aren’t you?” His words make you feel safe, wanted, and cherished.

He doesn’t wait for you to ask for reassurance—he gives it freely, letting you know how much he appreciates having you around, and how much he loves seeing you smile. And when it comes to your body? He knows every inch of it like he’s got a personal map of your every curve and spot. He might even joke, “No one will ever know you like I do. I’ve ruined you for everyone else, haven’t I?”

Crowe has this vibe about him, like he’s always hungry to make sure you're feeling amazing, but don’t forget to show him some love, too. He thrives on hearing you praise him, especially when you whisper how much you need him, and how much he’s doing for you. The sound of your voice, the words you say—they get to him, melt him down until his heart's pounding.

Now and then, he’ll pull back, checking in on you, “You okay? Am I pushing you too far?” It’s not just about the rush for him. He wants you to be comfortable, to be in sync with him as he takes you through everything, slow and steady, giving you all that love. “That’s it, you're doing so well,” he’ll say, his voice smooth like syrup, making sure you know you're adored.

But here’s the thing: if you keep praising him, or if you’re the one in control, just wait. Crowe’s mouth? It’ll get filthy. AND I MEAN FILTHY. He can’t help it, don't be mean now...

I mean, you can. You giving him head? Taking his cock deep inside your throat, feeling he's about to cum, then you pulled back, teasing him. He'll say, "Please, my love, you were doing so good on my cock—please, please, keep going, I need that tongue of yours."

One of his favorite things is when you’re so into it that he can just forget what you say and speak directly to you, but in a way that’ll make your body react before your mind even catches up. Like, he’ll whisper, “God, you taste so damn good. Missed me, huh? Just wanna be filled up, don't you?”

His words drip against you, his eyes dark with heat, like he's speaking to your body, not even acknowledging your moans. “Such a good fucking pussy. Always making me feel so damn good. Want me to stuff you full, hm?”

And when it’s all done? Crowe doesn’t just drop it and move on. He’s got aftercare down to an art. He’ll guide you through it, keep you close, making sure you’re okay, settled, and cared for, getting ready to do it all again whenever you’re ready!

✑ Experimentalist

Crowe is the kind of man who never wants to leave any stone unturned, especially when it comes to experiences.

There was something about him that screamed experimentalist—like he needed to try everything, no matter how wild or unconventional. When it came to relationships, he was always up for anything, which meant he'd probably had more relationship experiences than most people you knew.

His mind is open, impossibly so, and he had an insatiable curiosity that could never be satisfied. He’d never form an opinion on something without diving in and getting his first-hand taste. If there was something new to try, something out-of-the-box—Crowe was there, ready to explore.

And honestly? He didn’t even need you to ask twice. If you suggested something wild, he’d be all in—his enthusiasm infectious, his curiosity never-ending.

However, he's pretty vanilla when it comes to experimenting, so don't expect him to go TOO hardcore. If there's a kink suited to his taste and he masters it? Oh, Babe, you'll feel it—so much in fact.

Take ropes, for example. Blindfolds? Handcuffs? Oh, he is intrigued. But, again, don’t expect anything brutal. He isn't the type to be into floggers or paddles; no, pain isn't needed for his skills. It is his anticipation. The slow burn of him carefully tying you up, not in a rush, but with the kind of patience that made every moment last longer.

When his hands hovered over your skin, it wasn’t just touch—it was electric. He’d make sure to linger, let his fingers graze over every inch, just enough to make you shiver, your breath hitching in the air between you. It wasn’t about hurting you, not at all. No, it was all about the build-up—the moment when the ropes or restraints were placed just so, tightening the tension between you both until it was practically unbearable.

And then? When you finally let go, it was a release so sweet and steady that it left you breathless. No rushing, no quick fixes—just a slow, fulfilling pleasure.

Adding on, Crowe loved the idea of restraint. Whether for fun, for art, or for that extra little spark of excitement, there was something about having you completely at his mercy.

And if you ever flipped the script? If he was the one getting tied up? Like I said, Crowe will be just as filthy when he lets his guard down.

✑ Dacryphillia

Okay, hear me out. I know what you’re thinking—"Crowe? He would never hurt me. Why would he want to see me cry?" And I get it, really. This is one of those wild ideas but just stick with me for a second.

You know how he’s all about emotions and deep connections, right? Get it?

He gets this deep fascination with what you feel and show, especially when it’s raw. Here’s where it gets interesting: Dacryphilia. Yeah, I’m talking about that thing where someone gets... well, aroused by tears, by the sound of you sobbing, the whole mess of emotions.

So, let’s imagine this: You’re begging him, pleading for more. Your face is a mess of emotions, eyes watery, tears rolling down your cheeks. And yeah, he’s gonna ask if you’re okay because that’s the kind of man he is—always checking, always making sure. But if you keep begging for more? Oh, that’s when it gets dangerous.

Each desperate plea of yours, each tremor in your voice, just fuels this fire inside him, an all-consuming fire. His eyes? They’re practically glowing, deep blue, and locked on you like he's drowning in you, in every little thing you’re feeling.

You can feel him there, so close you can almost taste his breath on your skin. His lips brush against your ear, a soft, teasing whisper sending shivers down your spine. "So desperate for me already, huh? We haven’t even gotten to the fun part yet..." His voice is low, and dangerous, like he’s savoring every second of this.

You know he’s enjoying this. Every inch of him is hooked, and once he has you like this, there’s no going back.

Crowe’s could be teasing you for what feels like hours, driving you wild with a mix of pleasure and frustration. He’s pulled every bit of sensation from you, your body trembling with each orgasm, each touch—until you’re left aching for more. You’ve come undone on his fingers, his tongue, but now, you’re desperate in a way that makes your chest ache. You need him, inside of you, filling you up, but he’s holding back. Just barely, he brushes against you, grinning at the whine that slips from your lips.

His head teases your entrance, and you can’t stop yourself from begging, voice shaky, "Please... Please, please." You repeated. Tears burn at the corners of your eyes, blurring your vision as they fall helplessly. The emptiness without him feels unbearable.

Crowe tilted his head, the smirk on his face practically dripping with playful mockery. “Just please?” He dragged the word out slowly, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Tell me what you want. Can’t do anything unless you say it. What is it you’re begging for?” His hand slid up your stomach, hand pushing lightly as if testing the waters.

He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear, the playful glint in his eyes shifting into something darker, more calculating. “You want me to fill you up, don’t you?”

His grin stretched wider as you stumbled over your words, desperate and disordered, pleading for more. He could tell you were unraveling, and it only pushed him further, each whimper was like a small victory.

“You’re falling apart, love,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. “Don’t worry, I’ll give you what you need... just say the word.” You could barely focus as the desperation built into your chest. His control over you was unnerving, yet exhilarating. The tears on your cheeks were a mix of frustration and need, a silent scream for him.

“I need you, Crowe. Please...” Your voice was broken, but he was the one who was in control, studying the way you reacted like a willing experiment.

Crowe’s hand lifts gently to your cheek, his thumb brushing away the tears streaming down your face. He gives you a soft grin, his voice low and teasing. “Already crying for me, huh?” he murmurs, almost amused. His thumb, slick with your tears, slips past your lips, letting you taste the salty remnants of your emotions. "We’ve just started," he adds, a soft chuckle escaping him.

Before you can respond, his hips jerk forward, pushing into you with one swift, forceful motion. The shock of it makes your breath catch, and Crowe can’t help but smirk, his eyes glinting with that dangerous, experimental gleam.

Every move, calculated and deliberate, is part of his twisted exploration. And you? You’re the willing subject.

✑ 𝓈𝑜𝓁

Sol is described as a “stinky basement-dwelling yandere”—ngl, this alone made me laugh. He’s a quiet kid, the one who lingered at the edges of every room, observing, never quite fitting in.

Beneath his reserved exterior was a complexity most couldn’t fathom. He’s incredibly smart, with a sharpness that slipped through his words when he spoke, though he rarely bothered to. His talents leaned toward the arts, paintings, and writings.

And yet, at the end of the day, Sol isn’t exactly smooth. He was hopelessly inexperienced when it came to relationships. He gets no bitches, and honestly, he probably doesn’t even try. But in his inexperience is a certain rawness, and once you did get to know him, he’ll flirt or charm you. But before, he just watched and wanted.

Now, let’s address the question: Can you see Sol as kinky?

Yes, let’s not sugarcoat it—he is kinky asf. Of course, he is. There was no way someone as quiet and repressed as Sol didn’t have a horny side, one he tried to keep buried but couldn’t fully hide due to his love for you.

✑ Switch (A Pervert…)

Now, about Sol’s... preferences.

From reading his relationship information card and playing the game. He is a paradox, a Switch in every sense of the word. He didn’t neatly fit into the mold of “always dominant” or “forever submissive.” Oh no, that would be far too mundane for someone like him. He's not a standard yandere people.

Sol is a man of extremes, a “pervert” in the most endearing, shameless sense of the word. He believed in living freely, without the shackles of societal expectations or traditional constraints. Ethics, morality, conventional roles—he’d toss them aside without hesitation if they stood in the way of his desires.

When he takes the reins as Dominant, Sol is the type to lean into theatrics, pushing boundaries with a devilish grin and that mischievous gleam in his eyes. He had a talent for making the experience unforgettable, for making you feel as though the entire world had melted away, leaving only the two of you. But when the tables turned, when Sol found himself in the more submissive role, he’d throw himself into it with equal fervor.

He’d challenge you to prove your worth, tease and push until you stepped up to the plate, and then—when you finally did—he’d surrender so completely that it'll feel like a victory worth savoring.

To Sol, sex and relationships weren’t just about power dynamics or tradition. They were a playground for exploration, a place where the only rule was to follow what felt right. With his “anything goes” mentality, Sol turned every interaction into a kaleidoscope of passion and unpredictability.

As mentioned, Sol, can’t help himself when it comes to you.

Let’s say he has this thing—Voyeuristic Disorder, to be precise, a fancy word for being a pervert. Dosn't care to see anyone else naked. Only you he wishes to see. He was obsessed with watching you, whether you knew it or not. In public or private, it didn’t matter.

He just liked being there, lurking in the shadows, soaking in every moment. Watching you do the most intimate things, completely unaware that he was there.

There was something so exhilarating about seeing you—your bare skin, the way you moved, the little things you did when you thought no one was watching. He couldn’t resist. The way your body reacted, the sounds you made when you didn’t know he was there—it was all he needed.

Deadass, I’m shocked that the creator of the game never added a specific scene where you were taking care of yourself in bed—you freak, oblivious to him sneaking a peek from the window, his hand on his cock, jacking himself off, doing exactly what he does best. Watching.

He didn’t let societal norms dictate how he expressed himself or who he loved. He was unapologetically himself—messy, chaotic, and a little too intense for most people’s taste. But for those brave enough to step into his world, you, well, if you picked him, that is.

Sol will offer an experience unlike any other: one filled with unrelenting honesty, unbridled passion, and a love that refuses to be anything less than extraordinary.

✑ Praise (Receiving)

Sol isn't the type of man you’d peg as desperate for validation—at least, not at first glance. His sharp, confident exterior gave the impression of someone who had the world at his feet, who didn’t flinch under pressure or crack beneath judgmental stares.

But peel back the layers of this supposed nonchalant and cool type of man, and you’d find a truth that was much more human, much more raw. Sol craved praise. Why? Perhaps it was the lack of it throughout his life. His track record for romance was, let’s say, less than impressive. Not because he lacked charm or good looks—he had both in spades—but because his overbearing aura and unapologetic eccentricities tended to drive most people away.

They didn’t understand him, couldn’t see past the way he challenged conventions. He wore his "loser" title like armor. After all, who cared if he didn’t have admirers lined up at his door? He didn’t need anyone... right? Yet, when someone, such as you, did manage to offer him an honest compliment, something sincere, it was like watching a dam break.

His confident smirk would falter for a second, his eyes softening, betraying the vulnerability he worked so hard to conceal. Sol wasn’t accustomed to receiving love—real, genuine love—and when it came, it hit him like a truck

✑ Masochist

The first time you noticed Sol’s tendency to endure pain, you’d thought it was just his stubborn nature. He’s always been the type to wear his emotions on his sleeve when it came to you—raw, unfiltered, and unapologetically vulnerable. But as time went on, you began to see something deeper beneath that tough, rebellious exterior.

Sol wasn’t just someone who endured pain; he seemed to embrace it…? almost thrive on it, especially when it comes to you.

Sol is, without a doubt, a masochist. Not in the twisted, sadistic sense, but in an almost heartbreaking way. He’d do anything to please you, to earn your attention—even if it meant enduring the unendurable.

He could never be a sadist. No, he loved you too much to ever inflict pain on you, physically or emotionally. The very thought of hurting you would make his stomach churn. Instead, he channeled all his devotion into being by your side, no matter the cost.

There were moments when his tendencies became painfully obvious. Like he gets into fights back to back, defending himself or you—for example, the movie theater bathroom or the Campus library (With or without.)

You hadn’t/have even been there to witness it—Sol hadn’t wanted you to see him like that, bruised and bloody. But when you found out later, he brushed it off with that crooked grin of his, the one that hid just how far he’d go for you. “It’s nothing,” he’d said, wiping the blood from his lip. “They deserved it for talking about you like that.”

Or that time with Crowe. It had been an innocent moment, just you laughing at something Crowe said, but to Sol, it might as well have been a dagger to his chest. He clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white, nails digging into his palms until they drew blood. He didn’t want to feel that way—jealousy mixed with self-loathing—but he couldn’t help it. Watching you walk away with someone else, even for a moment, was unbearable.

It wasn’t that he enjoyed the pain; it was just that he could handle it, even when it tore him apart inside.

And in the quiet, intimate moments, Sol’s masochistic streak became something else entirely. If you picked him willingly, He’ll trust you, and loved you, enough to let down every last defense he had. He didn’t just endure pain; with you, he could find meaning in it.

A sharp bite, nails dragging down his back—he shivered under your touch, his body responding in ways he didn’t fully understand but didn’t question. For him, it wasn’t just about the sensation; it was about the connection, the way it brought him closer to you.

Masochism, for Sol, wasn’t about pain tolerance. It wasn’t about how much he could take. It was about the way he found a strange, twisted kind of comfort in it. The pain wasn’t the point; it was the context, the giver—you. Sol would never seek out pain for its own sake, but if it was for you, if it meant being close to you, he’d endure anything.

Even in the game, he seemed to attract hardship like a magnet, always the one taking the hits—physically and emotionally. Whether it was the bullies who thought he was an easy target or the way he seemed to hurt himself just to prove his devotion to you, Sol carried it all with a quiet, unshakable resolve. Because, at the end of the day, it wasn’t about the pain. It was about you.

And he’d never stop. For Sol, loving you wasn’t just a choice—it was a part of who he was. If being close to you meant enduring the worst the world could throw at him, he’d take it all with a smile. Because that’s who Sol is. A damn masochist.

And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

✑ Somnophillia

It was inevitable, wasn’t it? Everyone could see this coming from a mile away—there was simply no other possibility. Sol, in all his twisted complexity, had long blurred the line between obsession and affection, his love taking on forms most would never dare to comprehend.

Some might accuse him of holding darker urges, like necrophilia, drawn to the lifelessness of the dead. But no, that isn’t Sol. Despite his obsessions, there was a deep-rooted sentimentality within him—a refusal to let go, to lose. If anything, he had made it clear in his own hauntingly poetic way: he’d rather die with you than live without you.

Yet, that didn’t mean his desires were any less unnerving. No, Sol’s particular brand of affection manifested in somnophilia, a fascination with the vulnerability of sleep, the beauty of your unconscious form. To him, those moments were sacred—your body relaxed, your mind adrift in dreams. It was when he felt closest to you, unguarded and free from the chaos of the waking world.

Before your relationship, it started innocuously enough—or so it seemed. He’d find ways to end up at your apartment, invited by some pretense or perhaps even through sheer charisma. And then, ever so subtly, he’d lace your drink with something to make you drowsy, to keep you from suspecting as his fingers ghosted on you.

You lay there, utterly still, utterly serene, your chest rising and falling with the kind of peaceful rhythm that seemed to still the chaos of the world around you.

It was maddening, the way you looked so untouched by the noise that haunted him, your lips slightly parted, the barest whisper of breath escaping them. Every exhale was a siren call, soft and unassuming, but it gripped him like a vice.

His gaze wandered, helplessly drawn down the curve of your cheek to your lips. They looked soft, and inviting in a way that felt almost cruel. He wanted to press his own to them, to taste whatever peace you’d found and see if he could borrow just a fraction of it for himself.

But it wasn’t just your lips. His eyes traced lower, following the lines of your body, the way your clothes clung to you, hinting at the form beneath. He shouldn’t be thinking like this—he knew he shouldn’t. And yet the thought of you, warm and pliant beneath him, invaded his mind, unrelenting.

He swallowed hard, trying to shake it off, but the more he fought, the more vivid the thoughts became. The sound of your soft sighs, the way you’d move under his touch, how you’d look at him—not like this, not sleepily and unaware, but awake, wanting.

God, he was losing it.

Sol leaned back, running a hand through his hair, forcing his gaze away from you for a moment. But it didn’t matter—your image was burned into his mind, and there was no escape. Watching you sleep was his guilty pleasure, though his guilt barely lasted long enough to stop him from pressing further.

Once the two of you were together, the dynamics shifted, but only slightly. Sol’s obsession deepened, and the lines of consent became more of a gray haze in his mind. To him, love was devotion—complete and all-encompassing. And if you loved him, shouldn’t you accept him entirely? Shouldn’t you trust him to care for you, even when you weren’t awake to see it?

He was careful, always so careful with you, so don’t worry!

His lips found their way to the sensitive curve of your inner thigh, his movements slow and deliberate as if savoring every second of this quiet moment. You stirred faintly, a sleepy whimper escaping your lips as the warmth of his mouth brushed against you, teasing and tender.

Sol’s hands gripped your hips gently but firmly; his fingers splayed across your skin to hold you in place. You tried to shift, your body instinctively responding to the soft, wet pressure of his tongue on your needy cunt, but his strength was unyielding.

“Shh,” he murmured, his voice a low, gravelly whisper in the stillness. One hand slid up to brush a stray lock of hair from your face, his thumb lingering for a moment as he marveled at the serene expression you wore, so unaware of the devotion he poured into every touch. “You’re even more beautiful like this,” he breathed, his words an intimate confession meant only for the dark.

To Sol, this meant everything.

This was the essence of love itself—intimacy beyond words, a bond that transcended anything others could hope to understand. He wasn't like anyone else; he knew that, and perhaps that’s what made this feel so special. So sacred. There was a quiet possessiveness in the way he worshiped you, a deep yearning to etch himself into every corner of your being, to ensure no one else could ever touch the part of you that belonged to him.

And as you stirred again, a soft moan escaping your lips, Sol smirked against your skin, the faintest edge of smug satisfaction curling at the corner of his mouth. You might not fully wake, but you’d feel him—his touch, his adoration, eventually his cock. You’d know, even in sleep, that you were his world.

To be with him, you’d have to accept all of him. Every tender smile, every soft whisper... and every shadowed obsession that came with it.

· ─────── ⋆⋅ 🝣 ⋅⋆ ─────── ·

#the kid at the back x reader #the kid at the back crowe #the kid at the back sol #solivan brugmansia #jericho ichabod #tkatb #tkatb crowe #tkatb sol #the kid at the back vn #crowe ichabod #crowe x reader #sol x reader #sol brugmansia #tkatb vn #tkatb smut

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thexsilentxwordsmith · 10 months ago

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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

Part 3 to Truth or Dare and Truth or Dare Part 2

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader, Soap

Summary: After being so rudely interrupted in the middle of you and your lieutenant's tryst, but he made a promise. "This isn't over." You hope that he plans to keep it, but when? Things might have to wait as you are assigned to a mission with him. But when being close proves to much, will both of you be able to hold off on your lust or will you succumb to all that tension?

Word Count: 8.2k

Warnings:

Part 4: READ HERE

Lt. Riley storms out of the munitions depot seething with frustration as he searches for the private waiting to relay Price’s message to him. Of all the fucking times to be interrupted, why in the hell did it have to be this one time when he was so close to exploring the depths of what the connection sparked between you could bring. Now he is left with nothing but anger and a sizeable bulge in his pants that he has to discreetly readjust before anyone can catch him hard as a fucking rock.

That piercing brown gaze locates the private standing against the side of the building a few feet from the door, his face red, his jaw tense, brow wrinkled up as if he is deep in thought about his predicament at having seen something he shouldn’t. The poor boy has no time to react as heavy-booted steps quickly approach before the lieutenant grabs him by the shoulders and pins him to the wall, glaring at him intimidatingly down through the holes of his mask.

“Let’s get one thing fuckin’ straight, yeah? ‘Fore I let ya go ‘bout your business,” he says, his tone firm and menacing. “I’m only gonna say this once, so ya best listen up. Ya didn’t see a damn thing back there, nothin’ at all, got it private? It’s in your best interest to rid your mind of anything ya think ya might have misunderstood or there will be consequences that ya may not like. Is that clear?”

The private is visibly shaken by his threatening warning and struggles to speak.

Dropping his voice, the lieutenant leans in. “Is. That. Clear?”

Quickly the private collects himself so that he can answer, if only to be released from the lieutenant’s fury. “Y-yes, s-sir,” he confirms.

His answer seems satisfactory enough; Lt. Riley is sure his intimidation has done the trick to keep the boy quiet and he gives him a nod of approval. “Now,” the lieutenant says as he releases the scared private and sets him up straight before stepping back, “ya said Price is lookin’ for me? Did he mention what for?”

“Y-yes sir,” he nods, his voice still shaky, but slowly calming down. “It’s about mission a-assignments.”

“Good man, you’re dismissed.”

With that the private scurries away as fast as he can to leave the lieutenant alone, ready to head towards Price’s office to see what this is all about. He gives one last, lingering glance back at the building, wishing he could just run back inside and pick up where he left off, but he steps off back across base back to where he had just been a little while before.

As he walks he can’t help but wonder how much time is going to pass before he will get the chance to see you again. Who knows what this round of missions will hold; it could be weeks or months of being separated before you both get another opportunity like this.

With a sigh he heads into Captain Price’s office with no expectations other than the same routine that he is accustomed to: get in, get out, job well done. Yet as the lieutenant sits there listening to Price go into detail about the plans for what will be expected on this mission, he catches something that he thinks he’s misheard.

“Sir,” Lt. Riley cuts Price off in the middle of his thought, “can you repeat that last bit.”

Price raises an eyebrow; it isn’t like his lieutenant to interject like this. “Said since I’m wantin’ ya to take a group of the recruits out, I am sendin’ two sergeants with ya: Mactavish and our esteemed female sergeant that you just presumably saw. Help keep ‘em in line to make sure this isn’t a bust.”

The lieutenant’s heart skips a beat as the captain continues on with the brief synopsis of things that will get hashed out over the next days until departure, but Lt. Riley hears very little. Fuck, this is somehow both better and worse than being apart for any length of time. How the hell is he supposed to stay sane when in such close proximity to you?

It’s a couple of hours before he is able to get away from under the discerning eyes of the captain, tasked with telling you about this new development in the morning. The thought alone of seeing you again keeps him up for most of the night as he runs over scenarios in his mind. You’re both soldiers highly trained in what you do, taught how to put things aside to focus on the task at hand; it should be fine, right? And yet… his skin still burns to feel yours against it.

That doesn’t sound like he’ll be fine. He wonders if you’ll be just as miserable too?

The lieutenant decides that it is best to talk to you during your time training the recruits, hopeful that with so many people present it will keep you both tame. He makes his way to the range about midday and as he approaches he catches you in the middle of giving orders to a couple of recruits at the end of the range. Instead of announcing his presence immediately, he allows himself a few seconds just to watch you, his eyes following every curve of your body that he can catch even through your clothes.

There’s no sign anything is amiss until you notice a few recruits are now distracted and no longer participating in the current activity and you follow their eyeline to see the lieutenant standing not far from the group. He nods his head to you in beckoning to come to him and immediately you can feel the heat in your cheeks blossoming until they are glowing warm.

What could he want? you wonder to yourself.

Turning back to your bunch of recruits, you give your order so that you won’t be disturbed while you go see what’s up. “Continue on for a few rounds, switching partners every empty clip while I speak with Lt. Riley,” you bark and they immediately fall into line. “And I have my eyes on you so don’t fuck anything up. Got it?”

A round of yes ma’ams trail behind you as you make your anxious way over to the lieutenant, the rapidly thudding beat of your heart making your steps brisk. Even from here you can see his hands gripping onto the straps of his tactical vest, knuckles almost white, as if he is struggling to stay composed. Your eyes meet as you near and all that intensity comes flooding right back into your body to leave you aching with a need to get closer, though you force yourself to stop with a bit of distance still between you.

“Yes, sir?” you ask, pausing to swallow to keep your voice steady. “How can I help you?”

“Word from Price,” he answers as his eyes inadvertently begin to gravitate to your mouth before he forcefully guides them away. “Mission assignment for next week. You, Soap, and several of the more seasoned recruits will be with me on recon for a few weeks. Nothin’ too intense, should be an easy enough job.”

“Oh?” you say in stunned surprise as your breath hitches. This is the one thing you hadn’t accounted for being a problem so soon, being stuck together on a mission with all this built-up attraction still so hot and heavy between you.

Things are about to get a lot harder and you hope you can make it through without incident.

You must be blushing something fierce now as you can feel it burning in your face the more you contemplate your predicament. In the middle of your thought you notice the lieutenant quickly glance at the group of recruits to your back to be sure they are occupied completely as he steps in towards you and reaches up to swiftly stroke his gloved fingers against the side of your cheek before anyone sees him do it. It takes everything in you not to turn into a puddle at his feet from the contact.

As he brings his hand away from your face, he steps in even more and leans his head down until his mouth is near your ear. “I swear I’m gonna remedy this fuckin’ thing between us soon as I can,” he says in a guttural, breathy whisper as he places a quick kiss to your face with his mask-covered lips. “Just hang on a bit longer. You can do that for me, yeah? Just a couple weeks and then you’re mine.”

He doesn’t know why he just did that, it’s too risky to pull off such a stunt in the open like this, but it seems to be an automatic reaction the way any part of his body simply wants to get closer to you. Though he enjoys it, it is a bit unnerving that he can’t seem to control himself when you are around. Clearing his throat, he shifts back into that detached facade to hide behind until he can put some distance between you.

“We will be ready to deploy Tuesday, 1300 hours. Price will send for you to brief on all necessaries,” he says as he stands back upright. “We’ll just have ta fuckin’ try and keep this under control, yeah?”

You nod silently.

Having finished relaying the information he hurriedly exits, leaving you alone to collect yourself so that you can get through the rest of your day, but that is a monumental task in itself now. If this is the reaction you both have whenever you’re near, what will the weeks you’ll be stuck together bring? You hope you can deflect your thoughts away from all this by staying even busier than usual.

The days leading up to departure are a haze as you try to reconcile that you are going to have to share space with Simon. You fill every single second with any task you can pull, just trying to keep your mind away from the inevitable for as long as possible. Maybe if you never stop, you’ll never have the chance to pine for him; it’s not your best plan, but it works for a few days.

Departure day finally arrives and you immediately are put to the test. As the team loads onto the transport plane meant to take you most of the way, you find yourself the last to board and wouldn’t you know that the only seat available to you is right next to the lieutenant himself. Those brown eyes deep set into that skull mask lock on to you the minute you set foot on board and don’t leave until you take the spot next to him. His body stiffens against you as you get situated in the tight space, matching your body’s reaction.

God, he wants to touch you so bad it physically hurts, but there isn’t a chance that someone wouldn’t see and so he grits his teeth to try and bear it until you land. Next to him, your heart is fluttering a mile a minute, though you aren’t handling it as well as he is. It is the longest flight you both have ever experienced and it cannot end fast enough. By the time you both exit, you feel like you’ve run a marathon just with how much you had been holding your breath through the whole thing.

It is a short trek to the safehouse designated for your stay and the team reaches it a few hours before nightfall. A small, rundown house waits for you and that means you’ll be on top of each other, though there’s a shack out back that must have been a tool shed at some point now long since abandoned. Good, maybe you can hide away in there at points when things get too much.

It’s routine at this point how things go in the field: clearing the area, setting up, breaking down rolls for who does what, which is lucky because your mind is not clear enough to focus on more detailed tasks. How can it be when you’ve spent the last several hours sitting beside the one man in the whole fucking taskforce that you want to screw until neither of you can move?

You need to put some space between you and soon just to get him out of your head for a while to calm down. Even with how tight you’ll be packed together, it will still be farther than you want to be from him. But thoughts like this are dangerous, so when the time comes to discuss watch duty assignments for the night, you spring at the chance to get outside and speak up before anyone else can take that away from you.

“I’ll take the first watch,” you say just as Johnny poses the question. “I’m still wide awake, so I might as well get it out of the way.”

“Damn, ye sure did answer fast; wanna get away from us that bad, lass?” Johnny jokes, elbowing you in the side.

You scrunch your nose and bob your head at him, the typical interaction helping you to get out of your thoughts. “Well, yeah, there’s enough b.o. to suffocate someone in here already,” you pick back, “gotta get some fresh air when I can. Now, fucking can it. Anyway, is that all good, sir?”

Turning your attention to your superior, you wait for his reply and see a strange spark flash through the pupils of his eyes. It’s almost too subtle to tell properly whether or not it’s something more than just the shadows cast by his mask playing tricks on your vision, but does it really matter? As much as you want something to happen between you, you are here to do a job and that is top priority for everyone, including and most of all Lt. Riley.

“That’s fine,” he agrees while diverting his gaze even as he speaks to address the group about setting up for the night, though you can’t help feeling like that is not the real reason he can’t look at you.

Making sure your area is set up how you want it, you double-check your vest and weapon to be sure you will have everything you need for your watch. You set a timer for the clock on your wrist so you’ll know when you should be relieved and then you decide to get a preliminary sweep of the area to be sure of the lay of the land before it gets completely dark. As you head outside, a flash of lightning ripples through the clouds approaching from the distance; it’s going to be an interesting night, that’s a given.

Lt. Riley secretly follows you with his eyes until he can see you move out of earshot and out the front door, only then does he make his way over to the young Scottish sergeant currently setting up his cot in the corner of the room. This is a fucking terrible idea that the lieutenant should immediately reconsider, but he cannot let this go. Bad idea or not, he is in it now no matter what.

Standing at his back until Soap turns around, the lieutenant doesn’t hesitate to speak up the moment the sergeant faces him. “Informin’ ya now, I’ll be the one takin’ second watch,” he says as flatly as he can, even though there is a pronounced pounding in his chest as he says it.

Soap raises an eyebrow before he crosses his arms with a smirk at the corner of his mouth. “Is that so? Hmm…right after sergeant sass?” he questions curiously as his gaze drifts to the door.

The lieutenant’s eyes narrow into a glare behind the mask. “Ya got a fuckin’ problem with that, Mactavish?” he challenges. “Do I need ta make it more clear who’s in charge here?”

“No, no,” Soap says as he shakes his head, “but… ye know ye don’t have ta go to all this trouble; if ye want some alone time, all ye got ta do is say so.”

A distant rumble of thunder sounds from outside the house to add atmosphere to the death glare that Soap is currently receiving after just having said what he did. “Careful,” the lieutenant warns. Guess any picking is off the table for right now, at least if the sergeant doesn’t want to end up in his superior’s bad graces.

“Alright, I hear ye. You’re on second watch, sir,” he agrees with a chuckle as another crack of thunder echoes through the darkening sky that can just barely be spotted through the window from where they are standing. Soap draws attention to it with his head and Lt. Riley’s eyeline follows. “Though ye might wanna bring an umbrella later, ye know on account a things possibly gettin’...wet.”

There is something in that last bit that doesn’t sound like Soap’s usual witty remarks, something about the emphasis he puts on the last word is a bit more on the nose, as if he wants to say something about things he shouldn’t, but the moment is gone as Soap continues with setting up his cot and Lt. Riley dismisses it as coincidence. Nothing has happened this far that would give anything away… right?

A few hours pass and everyone has finally hunkered down for the night… Well, everyone except the lieutenant. Try as he might, he cannot relax. His limbs feel jittery as he lays stirring in his cot, staring into the dark as distracting thoughts race through his mind. The more he focuses on them the warmer he gets until he has to roll up the sleeves of his shirt to his elbows just to get some relief from it clinging stiflingly around his body.

It’s still too early for the next watch change, but he can’t just lay here, not when he knows you are right outside the door all alone as everyone is asleep inside. What his plan is he doesn’t fully understand yet, all he can think about right at this moment is just to be near you again. And these types of moments might be the only small chances he will get to even just spend a minute in your company while you’re here.

He gets up and cautiously makes his way through the scattered sleeping team, quiet and careful with his movements until he can make it out the house and into the cooler weather of a gathering storm about to break. The rolls of quiet, distant thunder are more frequent now as he shuts the door behind him, the first drops of precipitation starting to sprinkle over the skin of his bare forearms as he goes in search of you.

Barely getting far, the crunching sound of boot steps are headed his way and he waits on baited breath as you round the corner from the back of the house to return to the spot that you’ve designated at the front for you to sit until your watch ends. Your sight catches a figure standing there in the darkness as you approach, silhouetted by the dim moonlight; by the size of the shadow you instantly know who it is and your heart leaps into your throat.

“All clear?” he asks as you come to stop before him.

“Si..sir,” you go to address him, but a momentary lapse makes you stumble over his title as you almost say his name, though you quickly recover.

Simon chuckles; by your reaction it seems like you’ve been thinking of distracting things as well. Guess that means he isn’t the only one suffering. “We’re alone,” he reassures. “Everyone else’s asleep.”

You nod in acknowledgement. “I was just checking the perimeter and the shed,” you say as you point to the small shack out back behind the house. “Still empty. I have a clear view of it from here so I’d know if anything got in there, but I like to be thorough. Everything else is all clear, though.”

It feels like you are rambling just to stall asking the question you desperately want to ask: why is he out here right now. It couldn’t be that he wants…? No, it is already understood that anything between you is put on hold until later; this must be something else and you chastise yourself internally for getting so worked up over nothing.

As nonchalantly as possible, you bring up your curiosity. “So, what’re you doing up right now? It’s not time for anyone to relieve me yet.”

His stance shifts. “I know,” he says plainly.

“I-is something wrong?” you continue your line of questions. “I haven’t heard anything inside or out.”

Simon pauses as another rumble of thunder fills the background through the light percussive sound of raindrops trickling around you. “Ya know why I’m out here,” he says quieter, unsure if he even should admit it. “I had ta see ya.”

An ache slowly spreads through your chest at his words, your heartbeat pounding, the air not filling up your lungs as you watch him take a few steps so that he can reach out to you and take your hand in his gloved one. He leads you both back around the corner of the house a little further from the entrance to conceal you against the side and out away from any prying eyes.

The light sprinkling picks up as a ripple of lightning flashes across the sky so that the shadows it causes dance across your features. Water begins to stream down over your bodies, coating you in a layer of dampness that soaks through your clothes, your hair, over your skin until everything is moist. It doesn’t take much for Simon’s balaclava to quickly collect too much water for him to stay comfortably underneath it and so without hesitation he takes it off to tuck it into the back pocket of his pants.

He doesn’t mind keeping it off, not around you.

There it is, that face that you have been longing to get a better look at: those beautifully distinct chiseled features with their slight imperfections caused from injuries past. He truly is a fantastic sight, though you may very well be biased now as it wouldn’t have mattered what he had hidden under there, the way you feel around him is attractive enough; this is only a bonus.

You want to reach out and run your fingers along his cheek, but you know it’s risky. It’s been hard enough being here with him already without making contact; you know if you’re not careful with yourself you might not be able to stop and that could risk putting him in a position he doesn’t want to be in yet.

But as you both stand there in the silent company of the other trying to find the words, he moves first.

His gloved fingers travel across the skin of your forearm, stroking it up and down as he holds your gaze captive. “Ya know, every single fuckin’ time someone’s said your name on the way out ‘ere, all I can think ‘bout is how I wanna feel ya against me again,” he confesses in hushed murmurs. “Been strugglin’ like hell to hold it all together for the sake of tha mission, but it’s only gettin’ worse. I can’t do it tonight.”

You swallow to coat your dry throat as his lustful words nearly choke you. “Simon,” you whisper in a dreamlike stupor. “What are you doing?”

The pads of his fingers glide determinedly across your palm and down to the sensitive tips of your own fingers.“I need ya,” he says through a heavy sigh. “I need ya so fuckin’ bad, luv.”

What’s breathing and how do you do it again? How in the hell are you meant to hold it together and do your job with desperate words like those being spoken to you in such an aching way? Is this all some sort of punishment? If Simon meant to come out here to torture you, then he has succeeded perfectly.

“I need ya however I can get ya; I’ll fuck ya in the goddamn dirt if ya want,” he continues as his touch leaves your hand and moves to tease around the top edge of your belt situated between your vest and your shirt. “Just can’t stay away from ya a fuckin’ second more. Gotta make good on my promise ‘fore it eats me alive.”

Your eyes turn to the front of the safehouse as if expecting someone to come popping out at any moment to interrupt this clandestine meeting. “What about the others?” you question as your attention is turned back to him. “We could get caught. You know our track record.”

“I don’t care,” he says firmly as he leans in until his face is inches from your own. “We’ve fuckin’ waited long enough for this. I need ta be inside ya, sweetheart.”

Being this close with all this moisture coating you both head to toe, blood pressure rising with the agony of his words, skin aching from the proximity of your bodies, it’s too much. You are burrowed into his mind completely now and try as he might to keep sane, your venom is already flowing through his veins. He cannot stand here and simply take it anymore. Those full lips that are so tempting from afar, are unbearable when within range; if you want this to stop you are going to have to be the one to leave because he won’t.

“But if ya don’t wanna do this, you’re gonna have ta walk right back inside that fuckin’ house this second ‘cause I’m not gonna be able to control myself for much longer,” he says, that gravelly voice overflowing with need. “Not with how your lips are callin’ my name.”

The overwhelming tension radiating between your bodies, that steamy, sticky, air that clings to you even through the rain suffocates your every sense until you can’t see straight. The darkness surrounds you like a curtain, concealing you from the world in its protective barrier that is only cut through by the pale moonlight drifting through the clouds to make the rain shimmer like

crystals as it falls.

At the back of the safehouse, there is only you and him. Everything else ceases to exist.

You stare back up into his face, watching as droplets of rain cascade down one by one off the tips of his long eyelashes and the ends of his short, pale hair to fall onto his cheeks and through the dark stubble covering his jawline. The tension is so stifling that it feels like it will suffocate you under the pressure. You don’t want him to remove his fingertips from your frame; he knows just how to embrace your body in a way you have never felt before and you’ve never been more alive than you are under his touch.

With a little hesitation your subconscious makes the choice for you about what to do next and you lower your gaze as the overwhelming need to reach out to him causes you to extend your arm without thinking. Your fingers make contact with his damp clothes and run the lines along his hip bones as they explore the curvature of his body where the wet fabric clings to his form.

A sharp, sudden exhale out of his nose is followed by a deep, bassy groan. Even over his clothes the electricity of your touch sends him into a tailspin. Your movements betray your innermost thoughts to him, but still he needs you to use your words and say it aloud. He watches as your eyes follow the path of your fingers over him and uses the opportunity to take off his gloves and stuff them away in his vest so that he can feel you as he goes in.

Your gaze drifts back up his body to look into his eyes as his balmy, moist palm is placed at the base of the back of your head, his thumb resting against your cheek. “Tell me what ya want,” he says.

Melting into his touch, your lips form the words effortlessly before you can even stop yourself. “Kiss me.”

Oxygen disappears as he leans in so that there is barely any space left between you, his mouth so close you can feel the warmth of his breath make the skin of your lips tingle and suddenly every thought outside of the ecstasy of this moment evaporates. There is no mission, there are no other soldiers here mere feet from you, there are only the two of you in a world of your own. With a few deep, jagged breaths his gaze locks to your lips and you feel him hesitantly go in and pull back before his mouth closes the distance to overtake yours in a fierce kiss.

And your fate is sealed.

The cool precipitation runs down between your faces to make your mouths slick, causing your lips to glide across one another as Simon desperately overpowers your mouth. He is relentless in the way he consumes your kiss; no sooner has he broken the connection to quickly swallow down air then in the next second he is already back in as if he needs to feel you more than he needs to breathe.

Wet strands of hair around your face stick to your cheeks as he presses his features into yours so hard that you can’t catch your breath and the skin around your jaw stings from the abrasion of his stubble. Yet all that moisture is doing nothing to dampen the way you are burning for him; you need to see what happens if given the chance to go all the way.

“Say ya need me too,” he groans against your lips and into your open mouth. “I have ta hear it. Say ya need me ta fuck ya good, that you’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout me all this time. Goddammit, say it.”

“I need you so fucking bad, Simon,” you whimper. “So bad it hurts. I can’t take it anymore.”

Your desperate words make him ache with an overwhelming ferocity that causes him to lose control. He shoves your back into the wall behind you and pins you to it as he bombards your mouth with his unrelenting passion, open-mouthed kisses overtaking your lips until you can feel them swell and burn from the pressure.

“Christ, I wanna make ya come so fuckin’ bad,” he growls.

“Please,” you beg, giving into him completely. “I can’t wait. Not again.”

You’re right, no waiting, not this time; he is not giving anything or anyone the chance to ruin this. The beast of his desire has him in a chokehold so agonizing that it will not let him go until he gets exactly what he needs, what you both need, until he completely loses himself in you. Some place hidden is what he desperately has to find now.

The shed is only a few yards away and his kiss-drunk mind makes the instant decision that it will have to do. At least you will have some privacy out of the rain; that is enough. As long as he gets inside you that is all he can ask for.

“Come on,” Simon is able to get out as he grabs your hand tightly in his grip and starts to walk in long strides straight for the tiny shack just off the main house. You reach it in no time and he doesn’t stop as he flings open the door and pulls you inside behind him, leaving you to stand in the middle of the small space as he scrambles to block the door; there isn’t a chance in hell anyone is going to get to you both now.

Not until he has had his way with you.

It physically pains him to be away from your lips for this long as he makes sure everything is secure, but it’s gotta be done. Once satisfied and not wanting to waste any more time away from your body, he moves right back into you and his mouth is crashing onto yours before you can blink. Its inherent, primal, a reaction as innate as breathing the way his lips know the exact way to embrace yours in that dance of back and forth as if you’ve done it for years.

To think he would have never gotten the chance to experience them had it not been for Mactavish’s idiotic game. Fuck, how could something so inconsequential lead to something so explosive that it is the only thing he craves above anything else?

Those determined hands of his paw blindly between your bodies, searching for the tabs at the sides of your tactical vest so that he can pull them to release it; there are more layers he has to get through this time. He breaks away from you so that he can flip the front of your vest over your head and throw it off your torso. Before it even hits the wooden floorboards he is hurriedly doing the same to himself, taking his shirt with it, before capturing your lips all over again; he will not stay away if he can help it and those pauses as he undresses you will be filled with him devouring your kiss.

His fingers fill themselves with your shirt, clawing at it desperately trying to rip the wet fabric from your form without a care if he tears it to fucking shreds. The rough calluses on his hands create delicious friction along all that soft skin of your stomach as he goes up and under to rip both it and your bra off your head, making you gasp mutedly into his mouth.

Pausing he can’t help staring at all this new, warm skin at his disposal. The nipples on your breasts are already hardening as they hit the cool atmosphere outside your clothes and he runs a greedy finger over the tiny rosebuds to feel them stiffen more from his touch. You are absolute in your perfection, a sight of sinfully decadent flesh that his mouth wants to get a hold of.

Strong arms wrap around your lower back to keep you locked to him as he bends his head down until his face reaches your breasts and he can bury himself against them so his lips can suck your nipple into his mouth. The moment his lips touch skin you arch your back with a shocked moan at how the suction sends waves of euphoria flooding through your limbs that only builds the longer he sucks.

“Don’t stop,” you plead.

Under his touch it feels just like heaven; there cannot be anything better than this.

“Not this time, not till I fuckin’ make ya come,” he reassures in a husky, muted growl with his mouth full of you before he switches to the other breast, leaving neither out of their overdue pleasure. “You’re mine tonight. Ya hear me: mine.”

The stubble on his chin pricks against the delicate skin of your breasts as he devours them, taking as much of the tissue into his mouth as he can hold as his tongue skillfully strokes around the areolas. All those contradicting sensations only add to the stimulation until your hips grind into him for the friction to relieve the pulsing in your clit.

Heavy rain pelts down against the roof over your heads to drown out the sounds of your arousal; he needs to experience them all and so he has to get you closer. There are things he wants to say, dirty things he has fantasized about growling into your ear since that night when this whole fucking thing started and as his fingers itch to play with your pussy, he knows the way to make it all happen exactly as he wants.

Pulling his mouth from your chest, he moves from against you to situate himself sitting on the ground. Quickly he grabs onto your hips to spin you around so that he can promptly pull you down to sit in the middle of his lap. That throbbing bulge barely being contained by his pants is straining even harder now that there is pressure over it and you can feel it pulse into the muscle of your ass as your back molds into the contours of his broad chest and sparsely hair-covered abdomen.

You lean your head back against his shoulder as you enjoy the feeling of being wrapped up in him and he takes that as an invitation to lay more of his claim to your skin. All that gorgeous flesh of your neck is ready to be sucked and bitten till he has branded it with his mark. Taking your chin in his hand, he moves your head out of the way and immediately pounces on it.

“Goddammit sweetheart, I’ve been in fuckin’ hell since even before we got ‘ere,” he murmurs in anguish into your throat, his heat-filled words warming your skin as his breath drifts down your exposed chest. “Thought I was gonna rip myself apart bein’ forced to only look and not touch. I’ve never wanted to feel someone more in my whole goddamn life than I do ya.”

His hands slip down your chest, drawing goosebumps from your bare body everywhere his fingertips grace until your mind is so numb you can’t feel your limbs; your body only exists in the places where he decides to touch. The poetry of his fingers leaves all those unspoken desires he has yet to fully acknowledge across your skin, searing the flesh until it is branded for him and him alone. His roughness makes you whimper open-mouthed into the air. Down the sides of your waist his hands travel, over your hips to cross in front of your belly button and finally his hand reaches your pants.

“Been thinkin’ ‘bout your body in the worst fuckin’ ways,” he says with a growl. “You’ve been in my goddamn head since that first kiss. Never thought I could crave somethin’ so fuckin’ bad that I can’t let it go and I want to make ya to feel the same. I want ya so out of your fuckin’ mind from me that ya can’t function.”

Undoing the belt buckle and button, he pulls down the zipper of your pants with feverish speed until he creates an opening that he can slip his hand into. Once inside he keeps going all the way down to the elastic that he has to fiddle with to get inside your panties. You let your knees fall open to give him more access as he finally reaches that sensitive mound between your thighs. He can feel just how warm you are, the damp heat radiating off your cunt and into his palm as he cups his hand up against your sex.

Your back jolts into his chest at the intense pressure. “Fuck,” he gasps into the crook of your neck. “There ya are, pretty girl. Goddammit, your pussy feels so fuckin’ good.”

His chest is tightening with his rapid breathing as he takes his middle finger to heavily drag over the slit of your cunt until he pushes through and it slips in between your silky petals right to your core. Again your body jolts into him as those thick fingers rub through the sensitive slit and then up so he can find what he is searching for: that small bundle he wants to stroke until you are dripping and grinding on his fingers.

He can’t help himself once he gets his first real feel of how slick you are down there; it’s more beautiful than he could have ever imagined and brutishly he draws out concise circles with the pad of his finger on your clit. The heightened tension of this finally being the moment you have waited for, being with the man that has made you a mess without even trying, and the way his fingers work that tiny pleasure center like he owns it only makes the euphoria more intense.

You are drowning in him.

Your body writhes and squirms as his thick finger suddenly collects a friend to join it and they both travel together to your entrance to spread you open so they can slide up inside and stretch you out. Your hips start to roll over his hand in direct response to his stimulation, grinding so he has to keep an arm around your waist to keep you from bucking off his lap, but it is worth it just to feel the way your body moves against him.

“That’s it, ride ‘em, pretty thing,” he groans at the side of your head. You could almost hear it in his voice how much he is enjoying the sounds of you falling apart because of him.

That deep, permeating warmth gathering in your abdomen begins to spread throughout your entire form, its mind-numbing effects making it hard to speak, yet it isn’t enough. His fingers have taken you almost all the way, but you need him, need his cock filling you up and you need it now.

“Simon, fuck… please put it in,” you say breathlessly. “I want you in me. Now. God, I need it so fucking bad.”

Fucking hell, the desperate whine in your voice is enough to make him come. The moment is here and there is no chance that he is going to be able to do anything other than immediately grant your request after all the pining, all the tension you’ve had to struggle through. All of it comes to a head here and now.

“I’ve been fuckin’ dreamin’ of doin’ this,” he says as he helps you slip out of your boots and pants so that you sit there naked as you wait for him to do the same. “If we would’ve been alone in the rec that night… goddammit, your pussy would already know the way my cock feels, sweetheart.”

As soon as he’s done he pulls you back, turns you to face him, and helps you up onto your knees so you can straddle over his lap. Even through the haze of ecstasy, your sight catches the first glimpse of his body and you can’t stop the way your hands immediately splay over the sparse bit of hair covering his broad chest and stocky abdomen, trailing down towards his V line. Then you see it, what’s been prodding against you all this time; fuck, he’s big.

As your fingers run between the pectorals on his stomach, you can feel the moment his breath hitches. You will be the death of him and him you.

Your eyes meet again and he secures his hands around the curves of your hips. Here it is, the moment of no return. Time seems to stand still as you feel him position the fat tip of his cock at your entrance.

“Breathe for me,” he says and with that he slowly shoves your hips down until the head is able to slip inside.

The girth of his phallus stretches you out as it fills you and the world falls away into nothingness as you cry out with the pleasure of his body as he keeps pressing down on your hips until the entirety of him rests inside you. It is overwhelming, the sensation that takes a hold of your soul and doesn’t let go, the one of finally having him. Try as you might to not let this get out of hand, you know it is already too late. Nothing, absolutely nothing in this whole fucking world can ever compare to the way your body feels wrapped around his cock: the glorious stretch, the fullness, the throbing that you can feel pulse inside you.

And from the sounds Simon is now making, you know he feels the same.

“Oh fuck…oh fuck,” that deep agonized whimper echoes through the shed as Simon’s hands bear down hard into your hips so he can keep you still until he can steady himself. His head falls against your forehead where it rests. “…s-shit…so fuckin’ good, luv.”

As he moves your body slowly up and down over his lap, making you bounce on his cock, he realizes that he will not be the same after this. Christ, you are the worst type of addiction; no matter how much he gets he only wants more. Simon is inside of you and yet even that isn’t enough. He wants to fuck you to the point of ruin, so that you will be his and only his from this day forward because there is no coming out of this unscathed.

Even within the first few minutes of being inside you he is already pussy drunk off how beautifully your walls contour to his shape, holding him fixed in all that warmth and wetness, and that leaves him unable to take things slow. Without warning Simon tilts you both back slightly so that he can take over and fuck you even rougher now.

His fingers grip into the muscles of your hips hard enough to leave purple fingerprints as he pounds up into you furiously. Your body shakes with each snap of his hips as he slams into you with a feral roughness that his brain forces on him as he can only think of one objective: for you both to come.

“Look at me,” he demands through ragged breaths as he grabs at your face with those large hands; he’s falling apart so fast now, “keep those pretty eyes on me. I need… shit…I need ta see what they look like the moment ya come. My fuckin’ pretty girl.”

The rain that had coated your bodies moments before almost turns into steam as the passion of his movements fill the air with so much heat. You are completely at his mercy, his hulking size overwhelming you so that he can do with you as he pleases, but the way he thrusts deeper and deeper only draws you closer to that razor’s edge; it’s approaching fast.

“Fuck, don’t stop Simon, please, I’m so close,” you plead through your panting, your toes curling into the floor as the stimulation makes your brain blank. It’s there, right there; just a bit more and you will fall over the precipice.

He pumps with everything in him and that is it; with a shudder your orgasm rockets through you fiery hot, making your body writhe in his grasp as you cry out and a loud clap of thunder rings through the heavens to drown out the sound. You try to fall against him, but he won’t let you. That firm grip keeps your head up so that his eyes can take in everything about the moment as it crosses your face and fuck is it beautiful.

God, it won’t stop, second after second your orgasm just keeps pulsing with relentless intensity and Simon isn’t letting up. He can’t, he’s so fucking close he can taste it. Shit, the way your engorged walls are fluttering something fierce he just needs a little more friction and he’ll come too.

Bringing your face in he takes your mouth with all the roughness he has left as he allows himself to let go and with a few more thrusts, that is it. At the last second he rips his cock out of you and nestles it between your bodies as he milks out all that warm cum along your stomach, coating you with all that pent up tension he has been holding on to all this time. His abdominal muscles contract hard, heart pounding out of his chest, body writhing as a shiver runs up his spine until his movements finally slow and he stops, completely spent.

Rain slacks off as you both just sit there a moment, panting to catch your breath as he holds you securely wrapped in his arms, face still close as if he only ever wants to breathe the same air you breathe, his nose nuzzling against yours as his lips fight to stay off of you long enough that you can both settle. It takes a few minutes, but finally he can feel his limbs again.

Just then the alarm on your watch begins its high-pitched beeping to signal that your relief is meant to take your place on guard duty. You laugh under your breath as it seems it’s now your opportunity to say those fucking words that seem to be the signal of the end of your time together.

“Times up,” you say quietly, but he just shakes his head.

“You’re not goin’ anywhere, sweetheart,” he replies firmly as his arms tighten around your form, “not yet. You’re still mine for now, I’ll deal with tha rest ‘a the shit later. I’m not lettin’ ya leave me.”

There’s no way you are going to fight him on it; you want to stay here with him a little while longer as well. Leaning in, you rest your head against his chest to listen to the beat of his heart as it continues to slow with each deep breath. As he sits there bundled up with you in that glowing euphoria as you both come down from the high, he knows this is only the beginning of something that he cannot stop.

And maybe for the first time in his life, he doesn’t want it to.

Tagging: @kirewinter @spooky-pomegranate @heliumshorns @mudisgranapat @konigs-left-pec @dragonstoneshortcake @cum-tea-and-towels @scaleniusrm @cod-z @shadowydestinylover

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bunabi · 1 month ago

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I finished Veilguard btw so here's my long thoughts (be warned I've been writing notes during my entire playthrough so this is very long) for folks who want it:

My favorite parts of DAV:

Best level design in any DA so far. The platforming grew on me, and I think the levels were well-thought out and mostly fun to navigate. Arlathan Forest was exhausting but other areas felt nicely balanced with branching paths, hidden rooms, etc. Exploration in smaller contained maps done right imo.

Mage combat is really satisfying at higher levels. Pure ranged combat is totally impossible unless you have Davrin and Taash popping taunts back to back, but dropping a massive AOE while fighting close-range feels good too.

Being able to auto-equip and compare new gear is great.

Same with the codex entries. Not having to hunt down whatever note I just picked up is a huge improvement.

Upgrading equipment via duplicates incentivized treasure chest hunting, which I would have otherwise skipped lol. It really helped me slow down and take time exploring areas, and I appreciated that.

The final act didn't make the previous 70+ hours feel better, my fault for spoiling most of it for myself, but it was neat. Cool set pieces, cool fights. I was worried Elgar'nan was gonna have the same moveset as the Regrets, but his final battle was great.

Oh, I forgot Felassan! His notes were a tragic delight. Such a good man. Funny too. They didn't need to kill Varric to make Solas less sympathetic...I think Felassan's betrayal(s) serve that purpose well already.

Rook & Their Faction:

Without rehashing what I've said over the past few weeks: this is my least favorite protagonist.

Being a funny and sarcastic and irreverent hero in a DA game is not new. Not having a choice in the matter is. The Inquisitor was pretty fixed in their tone too (cant even choose a personality for them in CC) but even they had better aggressive options available.

Folks say not to judge Rook's depth by a Lord of Fortune playthrough but since factions are asymmetrical on purpose here are my impressions:

The Lords of Fortune didn't contribute to my run in any meaningful way other than getting Emmrich hot which is not unique, as it turns out, to any particular background. In fact, learning Natalene was a galley slave as an aside detracted from my experience. Being a former galley slave, former Circle mage (again: Rivain doesn't have Circles), semi-Dalish city elf with DIY vallaslin is unreal. Especially as characters continuously imply Rook is a young 20-something. The fact this wasn't immediately caught and course-corrected shows -- to me -- how hectic and spread-thin DAV's development really was. :(

Story & Antagonists:

Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain have cackling witch disease. No motivations outside of power. That was a little disappointing. Was also hoping they'd at least comment on Rook/Davrin/Bellara's vallaslin but they're too busy plotting world domination to really notice. Love their designs though. I'd love to hear a deep dive on how they animated Ghil's tentacles.

Veilguard feels like an immediate follow-up to Trespasser, not the ten year timeskip it says it is. I wonder if that's a symptom of adapting the live service story (content that was likely meant to stretch, similar to Anthem and Destiny, over a decade) for single-player.

I miss the politically-motivated meddling. Every villain is allied with the Evanuris. We needed some that aren't. The Right and Left Hand of the Black Divine, corrupt brothers of the Imperial Chantry, the agents of the Archon, a Minrathous street gang, some Rivaini pirates, anything, anyone.

It's crazy how all elven resistance seemed to evaporate with the dissolution of the Dread Wolf Army. As much as I'd hate seeing them duped and betrayed by Solas…I prefer that to just pretending everything's fine now. I could easily see alienage elves and slaves take Cyrian's path, desperate for change no matter the source, especially since oppression is all they've known and there's no end to it in sight. Especially with their gods confirmed as the source of the blight. All downhill from here I fear.

The Butcher. Would. That voice and that frame....it purred I fear. But even he was not immune to cackling witch disease. Wish he stuck around longer for personal reasons. My South is under siege and I aint talking about Ferelden.

Combat:

I found myself switching builds a lot, which was nice and kept things fresh. That being said: DAV needed loadouts for skills and equipment and a menu showing active passive skills + enchantments. A QOL update for this stuff would have been amazing. I want to try an archer run, but I dread (🐺) fussing with skill tree nodes again.

After fighting Mythal (my first full dragon fight) I was disappointed how all dragons share her same attack patterns. They didn't have to reinvent the wheel or anything -- this was the case with dragon battles in DAI and I thought it was fine -- but Mythal of all enemies should have been unique.

High-level demons are limited to Rage and Pride. High-level darkspawn are limited to Ogres. I miss those little scrungly lookin' despair demons and nasty ass hurlock emissaries. After 60 hours I did get a little tired of the same handful of mobs over and over.

Companions & NPCs:

The Veilguardians feel like my kids. Except Emmrich who's absolutely convinced he's in an age-gap relationship with my older lady Rook. It's not that they're uniquely dependent or rudderless, it's that their struggles are solved with nurturing pep talks. Reaffirm their worth, give them a hug, and all that inner turmoil is cancelled. Rich coming from the 'I should have been able to influence my companions more in DAI' girl, but Rook's impact on the Veilguard, the way their doubts vanish completely via some life coaching, feels off.

Speculation: I think the companions were originally planned to be NPCs. Their written banter in some of the notes, their verbal banter throughout the Lighthouse, they feel like they're meant to stay in the hub and act as quest-givers in the live service game. Especially with how Rook is excluded. That's fine btw it just helps explains some things. (Just remembered something else: when you talk to quest NPCs out in the world and the camera focuses in on the conversation, you can't see your companions. They chime in with disembodied voices, always hidden out of frame. That also gives me the feeling they were added later. Not confirmed btw just my hunch!)

Torn about Taash. I love them for breaking the 'agreeable companion' monotony but hate the ~animalistic race~ tropes they were saddled with. I've had issues with Weekes' handling of race and culture in the past. I'm disappointed to see it continue a decade later. I'll leave it there. Sten cannot smell ovulating coochie!

I tried to kill Lucanis during the final assault. Had full faction strength but I didn't complete his personal quest. It didn't work. Sorry Zevran!

Shathann's VA was acting her ass off. Great performance. Absolute bars from Taash's VA during their scenes too.

I dreaded (🐺) opening the Lighthouse map to see who wanted to talk. I usually love chopping it up and getting to know my party; that's my favorite part of any DA game. But so many conversations were just spent restating the obvious (Bellara is worried about The Gods and her brother, Harding is worried about her powers and Solas, Davrin is worried about the griffons and Gloom Howler, you know like in case you forgot). Running person-to-person-to-person and feeling no sense of accomplishment or progress for it seriously drained me.

The Inquisitor… I assumed vowing to stop Solas would block my Lavellan from pining and questioning herself after a decade apart and two very clear rejections. She kept asking whether he could still be reasoned with even in the midst of the final operation. I'm disappointed how little that choice mattered in the end. The second-hand embarrassment was crazyyy.

Romance:

Now this part is a little unique. Sorry for what I'm about to say about Emmrich. If it helps: I found him the most fun of all the companions. He's handsome, thoughtful, and has a fascinating past. But I ended up being dissatisfied by the end, and not just because of being soft-locked into a May-December fling, cringe commentary from Rook, and feeling like I was straight-up harassing Emmrich in early flirting dialogue.

The main issue: I don't care for the Mourn Watch. I like the Mourn Watch characters, but the organization makes me crazy. We hear so little about how they function in the context of an Andrastian nation like Nevarra. Summoning the dead in a world that still believes souls join the Maker's side in the Fade is huge. I wanted to really dig into discussions on the afterlife but in the end I'm supposed to go 'waow cool skeletons' and forget that religion is such an important facet of Thedas. I was so bummed!

I made him a Lich because he didn't seem to care either way. Reuniting him with Manfred is morally good, turning him into an eternal protector of the Necropolis is morally good. Emmrich is happy with whatever, so I gave him whatever, and I said 'whatever' when it was all over. My god is that man cute, but the romance overall just didn't do it for me.

Should've known when I saw his rotunda lol Bioware you sly dogs you got me again!

Personal final thoughts:

Well? I don't think I'm sad anymore, but I am left with complicated feelings. Obviously things are a little different for me being an EA Partner and getting an idea of just how much work has gone into making the game exist period. And I think because I can't blame it all on one person, shit all over it, and move on that these feelings are just kinda churning with nowhere to go.

Things could have been handled better. Didn't like the attempt to hide the world states until launch, or the dismissive comments from writers about it. Didn't like the AMA answers. And this isn't really my business but I'll say it anyway: I feel like the community council was thrown to the wolves, having to base their DA4 impressions around the sliver of content they were allowed to see, and having a much more hands-off role than implied.

I hope DAV is taken as an opportunity to refocus, double-down on what makes Dragon Age so beloved, and lean into those strengths unapologetically. Easier said than done -- as much as I loved Swen's speech about creating games free of marketing expectations and mimicking the latest trends that's often times impossible -- but I want to believe it can be done in this case.

Anyway both Sabine & my antibiotics are complete and I'm overcoming my moodiness and getting back to work on commissions! I've cured the Blight in more ways than one! 😄

#long post is an understatement sorry #dav spoilers #veilguard spoilers

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luxxid · 2 years ago

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DIFFERENT PLACES WHERE THEY LOVE TO FUCK YOU

꒰ characters ꒱ ayato, al haitham, diluc, kaeya, heizou, tartaglia, scaramouche x fem!reader

꒰ warnings ꒱ mdni, smut, riding, vaginal sex, oral (f receiving), semi-public sex

ayato absolutely adores fingering you out in public, usually in places where you least expect it. he loves the thrill of the unexpected, and the feeling of adrenaline it brings. his demilune shaped fingernails grazing your glutinous walls. the table covering the filthy acts occurring under it. he loves to make sure that you too feel the thrill of the unexpected, as his nails move deftly over your body, drawing out sensations you never thought possible. he loves watching beads of sweat fall off of your forehead, forcing the moans to stay put in your mouth. he loves to make sure your heart races with anticipation as his fingers masterfully explore every inch of your body, taking you to a place you have never been before. his touch electrifies your senses, leaving you wanting much more. don't worry! if you've been a good girl, he'll reward you the second the both of you get home

al haitham loves fucking you to oblivion in the depths of the akademiya's library. the sound of skin slapping emitted throughout the wide room. his fat cock pumping inside your prodding hole, not even sparing a single moment to recollect yourself. al haitham's viridescent eyes are filled with lust and intensity, the sage didn't let a minute to waste, making sure your mind were blasted until you had your tongue out like a dirty bitch. crescent shaped nails dug deep into your thighs, leaving purple-scarlet marks. a sly smirk spread over his ephebic face. the knots in your stomach kept tangling itself even more, white halos formed around his pointy tip, being the cocky man he is, he would pull away at the last moment, making you spill tears of displeasure, revelling in the sensation of a shattering orgasm.

diluc loves to fuck you on his chair. the lumber material creaking with every thrust he made to your coaxing slit. gashing his aeonic length into you pertinaciously. he devoured you with fiery passion, his fervour intensifying with every stroke of his insatiable desire. tepid digits surrounded your naked waist. pleading moans echoed throughout the chamber as you melted in his arms, succumbing to the tender pleasure of his presence. diluc gently moved in and out of you, carefully caressing your inner walls with his long, soft thrusts. his torrid lips gently pressed against yours as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear. his hands ran through your hair as you both moved in sync, lost in the moment.

heizou adores to fuck you in his office, precisely on his desk. all the research papers scattered on the floor. but he didn't care, all he was focused on was you, and your fruity cunt. his tongue did wonders— to say at least. lapping at your folds restlessly, both of his palms settled on your waist. crimson bites scattered all over your thighs. all he wanted to relish in was the pretty clit of yours and your ethereal moans. your hands kept tugging on his auburn locks, pretty tears clamping out of your eyes. he didn't want to waste a single second, he wanted to savour every moment of it - his tongue running circles around your precious clit and your gasps of pleasure causing an even deeper passion within him. his caresses and kisses making you lose yourself in the pleasure of it all, only to be found in his arms.

kaeya finds it entertaining to ruin your innocence, on his chair. two pretty thighs on top of his own, two hands on his shoulders as he held your waist with his frigid lissoms. his lean figure smirking as he caught the perception of your weeping form. riding his cock so good and nicely, he lights dimmed, and the air smelling of the exotic perfumes. you felt the sensation of pleasure radiating from the inside of your body and his as you both moved in perfect harmony. he would teasingly push faster, his hands dragging your curves and his firm lips pressing against yours as the intensity of your orgasm grew. you were in a trance, lost in the moment, completely entranced and unable to control your moans and groans.

tartaglia absolutely loves to obliterate his vulnerable angel whilst present in a meeting with the fatui. his fingers soaked in your weeping, slick cunt. oh his fingers were just— splendid. the ginger locked male had his eyes on you, smirking at your dumbfound figure. stuttering at every word pointed towards you. several eyebrows were raised at your contour— several except one. he definitely enjoyed the discomfort and embarrassment he caused you, relishing the sight of your distress. plummeting his finger even more into your cunt, soaked with your juices. you were so cute like this, weren't you? he was entranced by your vulnerability, savouring the moment as you struggled to keep your composure. his fingers were like a brush, painting over your innermost depths, as he delighted in your blissful expression.

scaramouche find the idea of completely ravaging your blubbery cunt on his chair. his angry red tip nibbing your clit, stimulating the nerves which transported pure pleasure and euphoria. his fingers delicately touching every curve and fold of your body, as his tongue gently teased and tantalized with pleasure, sent shivers of delight down your spine. degrading your every breath and move. each knot made was a step closer to your release, but knowing the male, he would extract his fingers right then and there. leaving you with no choice but to beg for it. his actions were relentless, forcing you to succumb to his every desire, while knowing no matter how much you begged, the pleasure would be denied until he deemed it was time.

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yutahoes · 3 months ago

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Dom

I'll start by apologizing because this had been requested for so long and it had been in my drafts since last year. You could definitely see the shift in the writing styles in here and I can say that I wrote better last year.

Anyways, a little indulgent smut (?) fic to celebrate the release of Depth. Have you heard of all the songs in the album? What was your favorite so far? And the MV! What are your thoughts? I can't believe we're in the YUTA SOLO ERA! We only wished for this a long time ago but here we are now. So proud to be in this moment with you, fellow Yutamis.

characters: rockstar! boyfriend! Yuta Nakamoto x girlfriend! Reader genre: smut, fluff if you squint word count: 2.5k words summary: How to dom your dom (and failing at it) warnings: BADLY WRITTEN SMUT, rockstar Yuta, topless Yuta, curse words, exhibitionism, fingering, horny reader, edging, dominatrix, submissive reader, dominant Yuta, leather, handcuffs, pussy eating, squirting, penetrative sex, riding, arm obsession (can you blame me?), LAME ENDING (Will I be making another part of this? I don't have the strength but I wanted to.)

“Yuta! Yuta! Yuta!”

“Encore! Encore! Encore!”

The crowd kept on shouting, begging the rockstar to grace the stage with his presence for another song.

"Yuta! Yuta! Yuta!"

It was a jam-packed concert. Hours of singing his original songs in front of audiences who love him and Yuta Nakamoto's rocker charisma.

"Yuta! Yuta! Yuta!"

"Yuta," you moaned against his ear, breathless and low. One of his hands held the wall, trapping you between the solid concrete and his lean topless body. The other cupped between your legs, fingers exploring the wettest part of your body.

"Encore! Encore! Encore!"

"More," you begged. You grind your hips on his fingers as you feel him smirk against the crook of your neck. "Please," You were so desperate, eager for the much-needed release that has been coiling in your stomach for a while now. "I'm close." You didn't care if the staff behind the stage were giving you side glances. You didn't care if they eyed you as a dirty woman for getting worked up backstage from your rockstar boyfriend's fingers. You just wanted that release—that orgasm.

The crowd cheered just as a static of the microphone could be heard. Your eyes widened in surprise when you felt the coldness between your bodies. Yuta, in his sexy state with sweat beads forming on his forehead and his immaculate skin, smirked as he walked away from you. You gave him a pleading gaze as he chuckled, "Yuta.” He shrugged then stepped forward once then kissed your lips quickly.

Your much-needed orgasm.

A step back then another step forward before he cupped your face with his hands, "Just three songs left, baby." You pouted when he ran to the stairs heading to the stage, the song turning louder along with everyone's cheers. But you cannot wait that long.

With a huff and frustration, you went back to his dressing room. You were so annoyed at the orgasm that it transcended to your boyfriend. You can hear the fans shouting and squealing his name. That should be you, screaming his name in pleasure. Your boyfriend's voice resonated throughout the area. And you can see, from the small monitor in the room, how he commanded the stage while showing his naked torso.

Seeing him on stage is such a turn-on. He looks so good with sweat running down the valley of his well-toned pecs. His abdomen shimmered as stage lights were focused on him. You noticed how his upper body was thicker and more pronounced in contrast to his small waist. His arms looked so delectable. How hot. Yuta's handsome face adds to the rockstar effect as he playfully sticks his tongue out or winks at the camera as if he knew you were watching.

Fuck, you want him so bad.

No, you fucking need him right now.

The desperation for release led you to those explicit videos on your phone, your personal collection of your sexy time with your horny rockstar boyfriend. But still, nothing. It didn't even ease the feeling you have right now. You needed him physically. Desperately.

You scrolled on Tiktok instead, hoping to get some feedback on your boyfriend's performance. But as you scroll up, a certain video has caught your attention. A caption can be seen with an image of a pretty girl wearing leather lingerie with some rope tied around her fists, how to dom your dom.

You are straight. You were so sure about that. But the way the girl presented herself was super erotic. The dominatrix vibe is such a turn-on. Is this a sign that you are such a submissive?

A smirk escaped your lips. Maybe you'll try something new today. Maybe you can give Yuta a taste of his own medicine.

A decision has been made.

Today, you'll dom your dom.

Your boyfriend said that he'd be done after three songs but you didn't wait for him and just went your way. You even stopped by the local sex shop you and him frequented, giddy that it was still open. The salesperson, who knew you and Yuta, was even astounded at your purchase. He even wished you good luck and hoped that you'll recover.

A chuckle escaped your lips. It's not you who needed those words.

You took a quick shower when you reached home, thankful that you raced Yuta on arriving. You changed to the black leather lingerie that you brought from the store, complaining that it was too tight and uncomfortable while setting the handcuffs on the headboard of the bed. Instead of a rope, you wrapped his leather belt around your fist.

Leather is just so uncomfortable, you wanted to give up already.

The apartment doors opened followed by footsteps then your boyfriend's voice asking if you're home. You hurriedly closed the lights to enable the mood lighting Yuta had installed just for these spicy moments. You turned on the stereo to your sex playlist then winced in pain when your toe bumped against the foot of the bed. Before the door opened, you managed to lay in bed in a provocative position that emphasized your breasts.

Yuta’s eyes were gliding on your whole outfit before raising an eyebrow at you, “What is this?” A smirk played against his lips as he put down the duffel bag and quickly removed his tank top while moving to where you are. “I thought you were mad.”

That piqued your interest, mad about what? He was already on the foot of the bed, hand reaching out to you when you snapped on your senses. You were supposed to be in charge tonight, not the other way around. Hastily, you kneeled on the bed to stop him from touching you. A playful smile can be seen on his lips when your hands are placed on his shoulder. “Yeah, I am mad.” You claimed with a smirk, fingers trailing south of his naked torso. “And you deserve to be punished.”

He raised an eyebrow before you changed your position by lightly pushing him to bed and you were kneeling on top of him. “Hands up,” You blew a heavy sigh, he’s still so far from the handcuffs. “Could you please move a little bit upward?” A small smile can be seen on his lips before obeying you.

Your knees were on both his sides as you clicked the handcuffs you bought on both his wrists. A smile appeared on your lips, he looks so good in this position. “Is this my punishment, baby?” His eyes were dark as he stared at you. Now that he mentioned it, you don’t know what to do to him next. The only idea you had in mind was to wear that leather outfit and bind him to bed with handcuffs. How would you exactly dom him? What should you do right now?

Sensing your hesitation, Yuta chuckled. “Ride my face.” Your eyes widened at the suggestion. He would always eat you out but you never did it with you on top. Isn’t it dangerous? What if you literally sit on his face? What if you accidentally kill him? He might have sensed your hesitation that he muttered in his frustrated tone, “Hurry up, love.”

You bit your bottom lip at that. You were horny, evident was this set-up that you made. And to be honest, you wanted to do it. Sit on Yuta’s face. He looked so delectable lying there with his hands tied to the bed. But this is deep waters that you’re scared to approach.

Why did you plan to do this in the first place?

This isn’t you. You would rather be whimpering under Yuta. But you’re already here and he’s accepting your actions. It’s too late to back out now.

“Y/N, ride my face.” He claimed once again, making you squint your eyes at him. Why is he still commanding you as if he wasn’t the one tied on the bed right now? Why does he still seem so dominant when you were the one who should be dominating him?

You pursed your lips, raising an eyebrow at him. You could tease him a bit. He’s tied in bed, he surely can’t do anything too much. “Beg for it.”

A smirk appeared on Yuta’s lips as you started mounting the bed and then sitting on his thigh. “Stop teasing me.”

“I said beg, Yuta.”

“Ride my face or else.”

He’s tied in bed. He cannot do anything. How adorable. “Or else what?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

In one swift move, you were lying on your back on your king-sized bed while Yuta hovered above you. His hand held your waist in place that made you wide-eyed. “You shouldn’t have bought low-class handcuffs, love.” You raised your head to see the chains of the handcuffs broken on the headboard of the bed. “And you shouldn’t have pulled this stunt, Y/N.” His eyes were predatory, scary. “Now, be a good girl and scream only for me. Understood?”

Yuta unhooked your leather underwear, relief washed over you that the uncomfortable feeling was now gone. But you gripped on the sheets as he replaced the material with the warmth of his mouth. He was devouring you as if you were the first meal he had for days. He ravaged your pussy, licking your clit and then sucking on it before entering your folds. Your back arched in intense pleasure but he kept on holding you, as if not wanting you to squirm. “Yuta, I’m close.” You jerked your hip up.

You could feel him smirking and then it was gone. Your eyes widened in surprise as if you were showered with cold water. “What the hell?” You watched him remove the broken handcuffs from his wrists while kneeling on the bed, eyes on you. That image alone could send you to your orgasm. But Yuta just had to be extra sexy by biting his bottom lip and pushing his hair away from his face. Your fingers rubbed your clit, crossing your legs together, as you moaned for his name while releasing liquid on the bed sheets.

A chuckle can be heard then a sound of metal hitting the floor. “You just have to be a horny slut and orgasm without my go signal, don’t you?” You felt the bed dipped with his weight before his thumb pushed your clit. “Can’t wait for me to fuck you properly.”

“Yuta, I need you. Please.”

The side of his lips curved up. “On your back, love.” You gave him a confused look before he nodded, “That was a command.” You rolled on your side, stomach lying on the bed but Yuta was already placing a pillow by your abdomen. He unhooked your leather brassiere that made you breathe heavily. A chuckle can be heard followed by his wet lips trailing along your spine. “You are so hot like this,” He whispered. “Begging. Whimpering under me.”

Yuta slithered his arm around your hip, pulling you closer before entering you from behind. The way he did it is so flawless that you didn’t even have time to moan. You ended up grasping the sheets while screaming on the pillow. You’ve done this before and you knew that this was one of Yuta’s favorite positions but the way he’s thrusting into you from a whole new angle made you a whimpering mess under him.

Your boyfriend must be working out secretly. You’re almost always together but you have never seen him hit the gym or anything. The heaviest you knew he would carry was you or his electric guitar. So how did he manhandle you into this new position? You felt your body pulled up from the mattress, him sitting on the bed. A moan kept on leaving your lips while bouncing on Yuta’s cock. His hands grabbed both your breasts, kissing your shoulders as he jerked his hips up to meet your thrusts halfway. His heavy breathing can be heard against your ear, turning you on.

If possible, he pulled you closer by the waist as he released with you. Whispers of your name as if he was chanting prayers tickled your neck. “God, Y/N,” he called then kissed your lips. “As expected, all I need is you. No one else.” You giggled. How crazy are those words? When you were well aware that he’s Yuta Nakamoto and millions of other girls would fight a war for him. “I’ll prepare the tub so we can clean up, hmm?”

It was still amazing how he could carry your body as if some doll and laid you to bed. Watching him enter the bathroom, in his all-naked glory, you marveled at how thick his arms had been. Surely, he would be working out. He sat on the edge of the bed when he returned to the room and you reached out for his arms, “You’re getting obsessed with my arms.”

“When did you start working out?”

“I’m not.” You raised an eyebrow at that. “Fucking you is my workout.” You rolled your eyes at that. Is he being sarcastic right now? “The things I want to do when you roll your eyes like that.” You repeated the same action, sighing while rolling your eyes, to taunt him. Yuta giggled before hovering his body above you, raising both your arms and holding them in place to kiss you roughly. “The things I badly want to do to you while you wear that leather lingerie.”

You lightly glanced at the dark leather scattered on the foot of the bed. “It’s uncomfortable.”

“If you want to wear something like that so bad, I can just buy you one.”

“But you don’t like it.” It was Yuta’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “I tried to dom you because those girls look so hot online but you’re not very cooperative.”

A hearty laugh escaped his lips and you whined while hitting his chest. “Seeing you sprawled on the bed like that when I came home was hot and all, I even wanted to do your fantasy but you hesitated. You look so scared I thought you’d cry.” He even noticed that? “You’ll need a lot of practice though.”

The side of your lips curled up at that suggestion. “Then, will you let me practice on you?”

“Damn right. Do you have another person in mind?” You grinned, shaking your head. “I’ll even give you one-on-one lessons, love.” He kissed the valley between your breasts. “And if you were a good student,” He kissed your neck, trailing north to your ear before he whispered. “I’ll let you fuck me with a strap-on.” Your eyes sparkled at the idea. “You’re so transparent.”

A laugh escaped your lips, muttering an apology. How could your boyfriend stir something hidden inside you? Maybe you’re not as submissive as you thought.

“Ride me in the tub?”

You nodded, reaching both arms for him. “Carry me.”

Yuta squinted his eyes at you, shaking his head while laughing. “Such a baby.” He carried you bridal style as you grazed your forefinger on the protruding muscles of his arms. “If I knew you would get this obsessed with my arms, I would have hit the gym earlier.”

Your eyes widened at that, lightly hitting him in betrayal. “You are working out!”

#yuta #yuta nakamoto #nakamoto yuta #yuta smut #yuta nakamoto smut #nakamoto yuta smut

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benkeibear · 8 months ago

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『 Becoming his princess 』

☼ synopsis: Toji was obsessed with making you his sweet anal princess - entirely drunk on his cock stretching you so well.

☼ character: Toji

☼ wc: 3.2k

☼ cw: fem!reader, anal play, (first time) anal, Toji talking the reader into trying something new and pushing boundaries, consent checks, sex toys, lots of teasing and praise, reader getting called "good girl" and "princess", overstimulation, creampie, mentions of fingering, gentle aftercare

☼ notes: welcome to the depths of my brain when it comes to this man. Thank you @suyacho and @kenpachisbrat for letting me write this in chat! 🫶 | don't forget to sign up for my taglist so you won't miss a post!

Toji had always been an ass man, that much was clear. Whenever you two were cuddling on the couch or making out, his broad hands always found their way to the globes of your ass. You didn't mind it, you were actually starting to enjoy it, but lately he started to push you further. The talk of trying out anal came up, which you quickly turned down. Your ass was a one-way route, exit only and the thought about having Tojis cock in there made your skin crawl in all the wrong ways. Without another choice, Toji didn't bring up the topic again, but he didn't stop to feel you up either since you never expressed any issues with it previously, so why not push your boundaries a little?

The next time he had you on all fours, he grinned dirty when his tongue dragged through your drenched folds, eating you out like a man starved, but instead of sinking his tongue into your cunt to have more of your juices melt on his tongue, he dragged it further up to tongue at your puckered hole for just a second. The foreign sensation made you squeak and move away before giving him an angry glare, to which he only feigned innocence, hands held up high, but that wolfish grin on his lips gave it away. “Just couldn't stop myself, darling. Won't happen again,” he promised, half assed but he meant it. You made it clear that you didn't like it and he wouldn't push it - at least not with his tongue. In reality, you weren't sure about how you felt about it, that big taboo clouded your judgment because it actually didn't feel that bad when his wet tongue toyed with your ass, but you shook your head, the thought gone as quickly as it came. Perhaps you'd let him indulge in his little fantasies when you're fucked dumb on his cock, at least that way you won't be able to think about it too much.

Toji was caught by surprise when you nodded softly as he was running his thumb over your puckered hole, his dick buried deep in your cunt. “Want me to push it in, hm?” He asked with a teasing smirk, but that was his mistake, he made you think about it. Unsure about it, you groaned into the pillows, your face buried in the plush fabric, while your hips were high and working to meet his thrusts. “Don’t ask me like that... That's weird,” you mumbled between breathless moans and he made a mental note about putting you in this position again next time, simply putting his hand back onto the globe of your ass as he continued to fuck you into the mattress. Once again, your mind was clouded with the taboo you almost explored and perhaps you just needed to talk with him? Let him know that you're simply nervous about it and his teasing isn't helping - quite the opposite, actually.

"Why do I want to fuck your ass?” Toji repeated your question, the heat rising to your face upon hearing his words that were followed by a chuckle.

“Because that's hot and feels good. For both of us, if it's done right,” he eventually answered nonchalantly, and you nodded.

“Would you do it then? The right way, I mean, so it feels good? But please stop your teasing it's-” Your words started flooding out, rambling in your nervous and slightly embarrassed state, but the black-haired man interrupted you.

“You're rambling, my sweet,” he grinned and leaned in to capture your lips in a sweet kiss that left you wanting more. His lips always left you addicted, wiping your head empty and filling it solely with him.

“Let me make you feel good.” His words sent shivers down your spine and you absentmindedly nodded, allowing him to give you that sweet taste of pleasure you both craved now. In an instant, he pulled you across the couch and onto his lap, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as his hands roamed over your back and your sides as your lips collided in a heated make-out session.

It only took a few minutes until his hands discarded your shirt, his skin hot against your bare chest, when he kissed down your neck to leave love bites along the way. A raspy moan escaped your throat when his teeth tugged at one of your nipples before his tongue immediately lapped over it to soothe the sting. The mix of pain and gentle caress almost drove you insane. Shaky hands started pulling at his jet black strands when his lips left soothing kisses scattered across the valley of your chest. Lost in the feeling of his lips and tongue against your breast, you barely noticed how he picked you up to carry you to the bedroom, ever so gently setting you down on the mattress, where his warmth left your body for just a moment.

"One word and we stop," he whispered into your ear when he returned to his position on top of you again, dragging your favorite toy - a small magic wand - across the inside of your bare thigh, the lowest setting already letting your skin tingle deliciously, but you nodded. "Hmm, yes," you verbally confirmed when he removed the toy from your leg, an expectant look on his face. "That's my good girl. Using her words for me," he muttered against your skin and rewarded you by letting the toy glide over your already slick folds. Soft moans erupted almost instantly, the pleasure was near overwhelming.

His fingers soon joined the toy, the vibration taking your focus away as he dragged them between your folds without dipping them in, instead letting them glide lower between your cheeks. The lube was almost dripping off of them when he started massaging your puckered hole with his middle finger. Eyes full of insecurity shot up at him when you felt him slowly push inside, but not enough to slip past the tight ring of muscles yet.

Your hands started to claw at his arm, trying to stop him and he leaned down to capture your lips in a kiss once again, the vibrations against your clit getting more intense.

"Color?" His voice was uncharacteristically soft and you struggled to answer him between moans "ye-yellow." The words eventually slipped out and he hummed in acknowledgment - You didn't say red, so it was okay to continue.

His lips returned to yours as the magic wand remained teasing your bundle of nerves until a gasp escaped your mouth. Toji couldn't hold back the smirk against your lips at how cute your reaction was, his finger slotted deeply inside your ass, unmoving.

Only when you started desperately grinding against the wand did you register his finger inside of you and a desperate "green" left your lips, almost in a scream. You were on the verge of an orgasm and all your previous little worries didn't exist. Your mind was feeling as light as a feather when he pushed a second finger in right before the vibration of the toy gave you that sweet release you were so desperately chasing after. Toji groaned when he felt you clench around him, so tight just with his fingers inside of you that it made his erection grow painful, but he had to wait. His fingers kept pumping into you, curling and scissoring them to stretch you further. The foreign feeling started to feel good and Toji was able to see the change in your eyes.

It was exactly how he planned this to go, making you feel so good and making you lose your mind with pleasure as he pushed your boundaries until you're begging him to fuck your little ass.

"Be my good girl and turn around," he mused and slowly pulled out of you, which made you whine. You felt so pathetic when that noise escaped your throat, but you did as told, wanting this high back you felt moments ago. The orgasm was more intense than usual.

"Atta girl," his voice was raspy as the need in him grew from seeing you in such a vulnerable position for him - laying on your stomach with your hips held high just for him.

Your slick folds were on full display for him as he let some more lube drip onto your puckered hole, chuckling when you flinched from the cool liquid. "Careful, it's cold," he teased, warning you far too late, but before you could react to his words, another toy pushed against your hole. Unsure where he even got it, you braced yourself and Toji held the magic wand against your wet cunt once more, trying to help you relax for him.

The plug slid in surprisingly easy and you looked over your shoulders at your lover with doe eyes, feeling so good but scared at the same time. The metal object made you feel full, stretching your insides while his thumb slid into your pussy to massage your g-spot until he had you right where he wanted to again. All the stimulation tightened the knot inside of you at record speed, threatening to snap the next time his thumb pushed against your sweet spot, but it never came. Instead, Toji removed his finger and started moving the anal plug, the buzzing of the toy against your clit finally taking you over the edge a second time.

Your muscles sucked the plug back in, clenching tightly around it, which made you feel so full already and it only made you crave more. The black-haired man knew exactly what he was doing, corrupting you, making you crave having your ass filled with his cock and it was working.

When the shocks of pleasure wore off, Toji continued playing with the plug inside of you, pulling and pushing - he wanted you to whine, to admit how good it felt to you. He broke you down slowly but surely and you enjoyed it. Your hands gripped the sheets tightly when you started pushing back into him, breathless moans falling from your lips and getting swallowed by the pillows beneath you.

“What was that?” He asked teasingly and at the same time, he pulled the little metal plug out of you.

“You want my fingers again?” His voice sounded menacing, having heard your plea for his fingers perfectly well.

“Fuck- Toji… Just finger me already,” you snapped embarrassed, wanting him to work you open so you could finally feel his cock inside of you.

You were always so drunk on his cock, craving it inside of you in one way or another and the thought of having him fill yet another hole of yours started to excite you rather than scare you. His chuckle sounded mean, but you didn't bother focusing on it when two of his thick fingers pushed into your ass once again, this time with ease.

“You take me so well, darling. Gonna make you my little anal princess, hm? Want me to fuck your ass so badly?” He started to mock you, his voice laced with amusement with every whine of pleasure you provided him with and you didn't need to answer him. The way you bit your lip absentmindedly at his words was enough for him to know you wanted this as badly as he did now.

Thoughtful as he was, Toji turned the little wand on again to help you relax because his fingers were nothing compared to the girth of his dick and it would hurt. Both his fingers remained inside of you as he used his other hand to slick up his cock with the lube, using a generous amount to make things easier for you.

“Ready to be my little princess?” He asked with a smirk as he pulled his fingers out painfully slow, the tip of his dick now kissing your puckered hole, and slowly he pushed in, never enough to slip even the tip inside of you. He wanted to hear you beg for him, beg him to fuck your sweet little ass. He needed you to beg him to ruin you completely, claim your body fully and never be satisfied with another man ever again.

The anticipation his endless teasing brought drove you insane, the vibration against your pussy wasn't strong enough to give you the pleasure you craved and you knew that you needed him inside of you to cum again, needed to have him ruin you to find pleasure.

"To-ji,” his name was cut in half by a whimper when just his tip slipped into your puckered hole, only to disappear again.

“Just fu- just fuck me already,” you almost screamed it, shame sitting deep inside of you at having to beg him to finally take you from behind, but he made you taste poison and you liked it.

“As you wish,” a wolfish grin spread over his lips and a single thrust was all it took for him to be settled inside of you, his heavy balls slapping against your wet cunt in the process.

Your eyes opened wide at the intrusion, unsure if it hurt or felt good - you just felt full. Feeling you clench around him like a vice was almost painful to him, but he granted you time to get used to the feeling.

“Taking me so well. So good for me.” His words were soothing, kisses against your spine helped you relax further, but when he turned the wand higher again, your hips jerked up, letting you feel him so much deeper inside of you. A high-pitched moan left your lips, almost a yelp, but it was filled with a foreign sense of pleasure. Your walls stopped gripping Toji’s cock like a vice, giving him the opportunity to finally move inside of you. His thrusts were slow but deep, his hips rolling against yours to make you feel each thrust dragging along your walls. The overwhelming feeling of being so unusually full, paired with the strong vibration against your already overly sensitive bundle of nerves had you panting like a bitch in heat, your hips bucking into him and helplessly humping the wand.

“Ah, ah. You'll cum from my cock, princess,” Toji ordered and removed the toy from your pussy.

A loud whine of protest escaped your lips, but it turned into one of pleasure when he rolled his hips particularly hard, catching you off guard by how good it felt. You were so close, but it was never enough to take you over the edge. The feeling of Toji's cock in your ass was too foreign and intense to snap that knot inside of your stomach - or at least that's what you thought. Toji slumped over you, no longer able to hold up his weight entirely as he caged you in, his huge body forcing your hips down against the mattress so he had you in prone bone.

The simple change of position made you feel so small compared to your lover, his hot breaths and grunts driving you insane and before you knew it, you were clawing into the pillows, chanting his name like a lewd prayer as another orgasm washed over you. "Fuck! That's my good girl," Toji praised, his voice deep and strained from the way you clenched around his cock, so hard he could barely thrust into you anymore, but that's exactly what he liked. Your little ass was just so perfect for him and no one else ever made you feel this way. It gave him the biggest ego boost with the way you were singing so pretty for him.

Your ears were ringing from the intensity of your orgasm, barely able to hear the praise that fell from your lover's lips, only the strangled moan followed by harsh pants when he finally released inside of you. Unable to help it, you whined loudly. The feeling of his cum filling you up made you realize that it would be over soon and you didn't want this ecstatic feeling to end yet, not when you just started enjoying it. Your pathetic whine made Toji chuckle, his black hair tickling your shoulder as he shook his head.

"You're so damn greedy, you know that?" He asked amused and pulled your hips into him so he could slide the magic wand between your pussy and the mattress once again, the highest setting buzzing against your clit. "To-ji," you moaned his name, "too much." Your voice was hoarse, but he didn't listen. The feeling of your ass clenching tightly around his cock was drowning out your little sounds of protest. "Stop crying and fucking cum," he groaned into your ear, an order you knew you should follow. You could have told him "red," but you didn't, craving the feeling of yet another orgasm even if your overstimulated clit screamed for mercy.

When you finally reached your peak, Toji was hissing into your ear as you milked him dry, trying to get every drop of his seed into your greedy body. "You're doing so good for me. Took me so well." His voice was soft, uncharacteristically sweet, even when the wand slowly lost the intensity until he shut it off entirely. Your clit still twitching from the intense vibration it just felt and all you could do was nod. You were his good girl, his sweet little anal princess and he was so proud of you.

Carefully, Toji slipped out of you, his hands spreading your cheeks to see your hole gape from the previous intrusion and it was a sight he could certainly get used to. There was a grin on his face when he watched his cum run down to your still-glistening cunt, a finger following the trail of white liquid.

“I should make sure that your little pussy doesn't feel neglected, don't you think?" Toji mused out, a single finger pushing some of his seed into your entrance, but you shook your head. "Red." The word left your lips in a mumble and he immediately stopped teasing you.

"Let's take a bath then, or you'll regret it in the morning," he said matter-of-factly before scooping you up into his arms and throwing you over his shoulder, which never fails to make you laugh. It was such a silly thing to him, but you looked like you needed more gentle aftercare this time, so a bath and some cuddles after would do it.

"How're ya feelin'?" Toji's voice was gentle now as his arms wrapped around you and his head rested on top of yours, bodies surrounded by hot water.

"'m good. A bit sore, to be honest," you mumbled back to him, your head resting against his broad chest, adoring just how caring he can be if he wants to.

"You'll get used to it. The first always is worst, but you seemed to enjoy it regardless," he pointed out, a shit-eating grin spreading over his lips and you could hear it in his voice.

"Just shut up, Fushiguro." You laughed softly and bit his arm in a playful way. But he was right - you did enjoy it and perhaps you'll let him have both holes next time.

#-ˋˏ ༻luma's musings #jjk x reader #jjk smut #toji x reader #toji smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #toji x you #toji fushiguro #jjk toji #💫hotter than the sun💫

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rwrbficrecs · 2 months ago

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Our September & October recs ❤️

make lemonade by @smc-27 (book-verse)

@dot524: This author consistently posts stellar works but I often finish wanting more of that world. This one is nice and long — yay! I loved this meet-cute where Alex’s daughter Claudia has a lemonade stand and Henry is one of their favorite customers. This was a bit of an exploration of divorced dad (single dad) Alex. His mixed feelings about coparenting and starting a new relationship were nicely developed. Such a great warm fuzzy fic, with a nice bit of angst and character development mixed in to make things interesting. And I loved the kid character, Claudia!

falling in love (in the cruelest way) by @coffeecatsme (book-verse)

@suseagull04: This road trip AU is so fun, partly because of how soft our favorite boys are, but also just because of Alex's bright personality throughout the whole thing, and the faith and hope that's a critical part of the book!

we should get married by @smc-27 (book-verse)

@suseagull04: I had heard people talking about this green card marriage AU for months, and the hype was definitely warranted (as with all of this author's writing)! Little details from the book used in a new way, instant attraction, both of them being exactly what the other needs, exploration of other relationship dynamics within the book... this fic has so much depth in its 4 chapters, and it's fantastic!

Cleansing Downpour by @sprigsofviolets (book-verse)

@na-dineee: It often seems like things between June and Nora were always easy, like they were just meant to be. But what if it wasn't that simple? Feeling stuck in life, June is caught between writing a book she’s starting to hate, and navigating her growing feelings for her best friend. A beautifully written story of change, friendship and love, and figuring out who you really are.

runaway now and forever more by tonystarked (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Aged Alex and Henry, a US Senator and an English Prince, have been pining for each other for what feels like forever. Could tonight, at a glamorous charity event, finally be the night they open up to one another? This beautifully heart-wrenching and incredibly poetic fic has been stuck in my head ever since I read it!

The Candy Tax by @hgejfmw-hgejhsf (book-verse)

@suseagull04: This fic is absolutely adorable! It's the perfect nostalgia trip for anyone who went trick or treating, and it incorporates some of the pop culture references from the book in the best ways that just add to what make this fic so cute!

Heart enough by @hgejfmw-hgejhsf (book-verse)

@suseagull04: What if Henry's the one who has to travel for the apology tour and instead of celebrating New Year's, they have a Halloween party? This fic adds so many layers and soft moments to the original, but still includes the heart and references we all love!

Halloween at Kensington by @hgejfmw-hgejhsf (book-verse)

@suseagull04: This is the Arthur POV of Halloween when his kids are little I didn't know I needed until I read it- this is so adorable, and Henry and Phillip's characterization in it is perfect!

I was cold as a stone (but I found what I'm lookin' for) by @miharaikko (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Author Henry has retreated to a small, secluded cabin in the mountains, hoping it will spark some writing inspiration. That's where he meets Alex, the owner of the cabin... The mountain and campfire vibes are absolutely wonderful. It's such a fluffy and heartfelt one-shot – just as recommendable as the other fics in the Flufftober: A Red Umbrella Collection.

Red, White and Royal Switcheroo by @xthelastknownsurvivorx (book-verse)

@suseagull04: This body swap AU left me wondering how everything would have been different in the rest of the story- it's that good! It has the heart and content of the original, plus moments that are brand new- and watching the boys pretend to be each other is fantastic!

Oblivion by @milowren29 (book-verse)

@dot524: This story has been on my reading list for a while and wow, did it live up to expectations! Alex and Henry are kidnapped during their visit to the hospital, and they trauma-bond during their experience. But what will happen afterward? How will this change things between them? The action, angst, and longing in here is spot-on and the storytelling is so well-done.

Sounds of Someday by dazedandconfused (book/movie-verse)

@na-dineee: USA 1972, three weeks on a road trip on the 'road to nowhere' heading toward Texas: writer Henry and farm boy Alex. This fic is so layered and full of hurt and emotions. The ending completely knocked the wind out of me. An absolute masterpiece, please everyone, read it – it's phenomenally good in terms of language, storytelling, and capturing the spirit of the time !!

blizzards and broken boundaries by @gayhoediaz (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Age gap – I love this trope with Henry and Alex. Here, it’s a 20+ year difference: Alex is a student, Henry his professor. Alex makes the move, Henry is very amenable. The alternating POV is so cleverly done, the tags say PWP, but I definitely felt all the feelings. Absolutely delicious!

These violent delights by @lizzie-bennetdarcy (book-verse)

@suseagull04: Henry as a vampire hunter in this fic is such an intriguing concept and the backstory of it and the fic's conflict is so well done!

With magic soakin' my spine, can you read my mind? by @hgejfmw-hgejhsf (book-verse)

@suseagull04: Pining and magic and revelations abound in this fic that's written so well, it gave me chills. This fic is definitely a must-read if you want a canon divergent fic that has just a hint of magic!

to belong to a family (even beyond this world) by @read-and-write- (book-verse)

@suseagull04: The Mexican part of Alex's heritage absolutely shines through in this- and this is definitely a fic you want to read if you want Día de los Muertos fic and all the Arthur feels! I also love all the neurodiversity in this fic!

A Beautiful Reality by @tinyarmedtrex (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Priest!Henry is back. The second part of The Only Heaven I'll Be Sent To Is When I'm Alone With You is out!! And – surprise: He’s not a priest anymore. But it’s not that easy to shake off those deeply rooted beliefs and Catholic guilt. Luckily, Alex is so patient and totally in love.

The Brightest Star by @aforgottennymph (book-verse)

@dot524: Single dad Alex meets children’s book author Henry, and they connect immediately. The obstacle in this story is Alex’s sense of duty to his daughter, Bia. She’s quick and creative, and she’s brimming with opinions. I’m a bit picky about OC’s and kids in fics, but this one was so well done. It’s full of fun dialogue and well-realized feelings and angst. Definitely check it out!

A Love That Haunts the Land by @14carrotghoul (book-verse)

@suseagull04: Once again, this author has blended Mexican culture and RWRB in a way that's so authentic- plus there's magic! This is one you won't want to miss!

check out our past Monthly Faves here ❤️

#monthly faves #rwrb fic recs #firstprince #firstprince fic recs #red white and royal blue

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valtsv · 8 months ago

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must know ur thoughts on chilchuck tims if you care to share them. he is so so interesting 2 me i need to like ??? trap him in a controlled environment and take ten pages of notes on his behavior

chilchuck!!! chilcharles. mr tims. i have soooooo many thoughts about him; i think he's got so much depth worth exploring in spite of being less of a focal character for much of the story. i also think it's both very funny and a little frustrating how often people take him at face value. which isn't to say that it doesn't make sense, because he works pretty hard to try to convince you to do so. but he's so much more complex than he makes himself out to be. the impression i got from him is that he's definitely been hurt in some extremely deep-cutting, personal ways in the past - not even necessarily by any particular individual, but definitely by the common misconceptions about half-foots based on their stature. endure enough discrimination, and you're not going to be placing your trust in anyone very easily, or allowing yourself to get too attached, especially when that discrimination focuses on how vulnerable and powerless you are comparatively. chilchuck denies his attachment to his friends and loved ones because it scares him; because he knows how easily it can be used against him. he's had no choice but to harden his heart because it's the only way to get people to take him seriously. he can't just drop his guard and let himself relax, no matter how nice and well-intentioned his companions may seem - those good intentions can do just as much, if not more, harm to him and his reputation. he has to have dignity, and if that means misrepresenting himself as a mean, hateful, bitter person who hurts others if they get too close to him, then better that than suffering the humiliation of helplessness again, or realising that he's been taken advantage of for all he's worth. he needs to prove to everyone how capable and self-reliant he is, so that he doesn't risk having that independence stripped from him. so he denies himself, and avoids personal questions, and acts tough, and lashes out. and then the touden party sees right through him, and they stay. they learn to respect his boundaries even if they don't always entirely understand them. they leave the door open for him. and eventually, with much coaxing and false starts and two-steps-forward-one-step-back hesitation, chilchuck allows himself to step across the threshold and open his heart to his desire to be loved again. which doesn't personally affect me in any kind of way because i have nothing at all wrong with me whatsoever.

#i love him so much. okay.#dunmeshi

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numberonetrashwitch · 1 year ago

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Some observations about Baldurs Gate 3 that hit too close to home.

After another few runs i will probably just make an in-Depth Character Analysis for every character simply because they are good reflections of actual trauma-manifestations and how abuse can manifest in people. They are also so well written that it serves a narrative purpose to explore all the material that is out there about them. I am also personally cursed with actual medically-relevant levels of Empathy and Hyperfixation; so writing this helps me put a pin in it and move on.

But so far here are my highlights

(SPOILERS and obviously content warning bc these are deep)

before you ask; i have almost 300h in this game.

You have to convince Shadowheart to eat the Noblestalk. She actually stells you she rather get her memories back from Shar but when you hit the persuasion or intimidation (what the fuck) check to get her to eat it she'll tell you about her childhood friend. Not her name, not her parents but her best firend. Possibly because she has had a closer bond to that person after being abducted and indoctrinated. With her believing herself to be an orphan, she would've looked elsewhere for comfort and sought out her own family, this is why she falls hard and heavy for Shar and builds the backbone of her indoctrination. She is literally ripped out of her home & given a new identity to server her from all she has known. Religious indoctrination, Gaslighting, Abduction, being forced to let go of your personality are her main themes.

There is a scene out there floating around in which you see Astarions pespective of the night when he bites Tav for the first time, in his meditations he is confronted with the rules Cazador put on him, including that he can't eat intelligent creatures, can't be away from Cazador unless allowed to, has to obey every command and that they are should know that they are property. Which in turn means that Astarion literally didn't just have any autonomy, he was objectified (and not just through seductive/sexual measures) and that is really the crux to understanding why he doesn't believe in kindness, but rather shows self-serving behavior in most cases. Since we know that Astarion was extremely young for an elf before he died and became immortal (literally stopping the aging /maturing process) it is also very telling that Cazador constantly calls him brat, boy or other very juvanile names, refering to them as a family... well it is also the story of a very controlling parent. Themes of (Bodily) autonomy, infantilization ( & puer aeternus, forever-child), slavery, depersonalisation, corruption of life and torture to break someone.

Gale isn't just a guy hung up on his Ex, but also a victim of abuse. In this case a power imbalance none of us can fathom; She is described as being a jealous goddess and rules over the domain of mysteries and magic. So with Gale being a Wizard, she is literally his boss. He admits that he was foolish enough to aspire to be an equal to her, but she is so jealous that she tells him he can't really be worthy as long as he takes breath. She could just take his powers away and be done with it, that would be more than enough punishment for a guy who literally made Mystra and her domain his life's purpose, but she rather makes him do it himself. Add to that, that she literally only tells him this after years of self-isolation (after he put down so many wards that he could've blown up a whole army as he says if you click the right dialogue) to really fuck him up well. He also talks about death pretty much constantly, not surprising giving your situation, but he will tell you that he will kill himself at several points in the game, for instance after he comes clear about his nethrese orb. Themes of romantic abuse, power-imbalance, toxic work enviorment, self-isolating behavior, suicidal ideation

Wyll ... well from the looks of it he is the most well adjusted of all the companions (my opinion) but he has something that i'd describe as the "eldest daughter"-syndrome, more commonly known as parentification. This pattern usually occurs within single-household parents and is commonly described as a parent looking to their child for emotional or practical support, rather than providing it to their kid. We meet Ulder and see that he talks over Wyll a lot, not listening but expecting him to follow the standard he sets for him. That is also why Wyll repeats his fathers words like gospel (because this is what, in his mind, fullfills the expectations bestowed upon him) and why he loves fairytales / bard tales so much (because they are an ecapist view of the job he set out to do) Ulder literally exiled his teenage son because Wyll did the only thing he could to save an entire city, by sacrificing himself. Thats a lot to expect from a 17 year old - even more so, he doesn't stop with the heroics. He expects himself, as a human who hasn't even reached the age of 30 to hold up to mystical creatures such as Astarion or Karlach, or even Gale who is a accomplished Wizard. Themes of parentification, escapism, self-harming through putting himself in danger, chronic-self-sacrifice

In plain words; Gortash, Karlach's Idol sold her to a Devil. But add to that that she must have been pretty young when she was sold (late teens to early twenties possibly) and being that if you play as a Tiefling, you face a lot of predjudice she was likely forced into that position as well. Starstruck she was, with a juvenile naitivy that Gortash used. Appropriately, as he is the chosen of Bane the god of "tyrannical oppression, terror, and hate, known across Faerûn as the face of pure evil through malevolent despotism" (Source: Forgotten-Realms Wiki / Bane) So she pretty much was raised in a toxic enviorment, which forced her to become a killing-machine, first figuretively, then with the extraction of her heart, literally. Themes of slavery, oppression, misuse of trust, being taken advantage by a more powerful/older(?) person, being drafted.

Jaheira - to be honest, you need to know the lore of the previous baldurs gate games or just listen to her dialouge, ask her all the questions. She is a war-veteran against Bhaal, the good of ritual murder, and has a long history of fighting to achieve some sort of balance of power. She lost her husband and several close people all to this, or any other war, but due to her wisdom and strength people look to her for guidance. Themes of: Survivors Guilt.

Halsin - he is really closed off at first but then just casually hits you with "i was captured in the underdark and spent 3 years chained to a bedroom wall by a pair of drows who used me as they pleased". He is reprimanded by some of his druids for leaving the grove as soon as opportunity struck, just to get back and leave the next day, and if you talk to him about his position in the grove he is actually very forthcomming. He actively holds himself back; indulging in simple hobbies because he knows what lies within his heart. He is afraid of himself and his potential (canonnically he can't control his wildshape, which is very weird for an ARCH-druid) Themes of: impostor syndrome, avoidant-based self-harm, sexual opression, loss of control, emotional regulation.

Lae'zel is a very tragic case, and one that closely resembles the stories of Shadowheart and Karlach. Her entire existence is based upon a matriachial war society allowing her to live if she proves she can be of use and that in a culture which only values brutality, dominance & service. All of that culimating in her finding out that her oh-so-beloved Queen is actually just an imposter, and that everything she has lived for up to that point is merely political propaganda created to make her, and the rest of her entire species, willing pawns in a war that has no longer bearing on their survival alone, but is fought to justify Vlaakith's (the reigning monarchs) personal ambitions. Not only is she forced to reconcile that she is turned into the thing that controlled her kind for hundreds of years, that the only cure she knows of would kill her and then on top of that, that her hopes and dreams were lies and that she is now the Nr 1 enemy of the person she has served with all her being. themes of: oppression, propaganda, casual violence, objectification, child-warfare, eternal warfare

Minthara in short, her story is about being shamed for growing up in the same scenario that Lae'zel grew up in. Lolth, the god of the Lolth-sworn drows is a crazy queen who values scheming & backstabbing so much and is so volatile that you can't know what to expect of your deeds (and i mean it; there were people who were appraised by her for scheming against her, but also those who were killed. It's almost random.) She considers Lolth to be cruel and abandoned her for the Absolute, only to then be used and abused the same way Lae'zel has. Not with promises, but erasing her memory and exposing her perceived weakness. Themes of: casual violence, violent culture, her own ambition colliding with her desire to be safe, being a pawn in a larger game.

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