#knows how badly i'm struggling with these urges

[rowarn]

// tw suicide : vent

[lymtw]

On with Toji and his shy girl.

Toji is well aware of how badly you want to take things further with him. He catches you looking at his crotch at least twenty times a day, and when he points it out, your face goes crimson and you blubber out your repetitive denial about how you weren't even looking there. You always blame it on your horrible attention span and how you are prone to zoning out, but he knows better. Your eyes follow the outline in his pants instead of just staring at one spot. He finds it endearing, and he knows you'll get there, so he doesn't push it, but the look on his face tells you everything. He knows.

Sometimes, Toji gets impatient. He never tells you about it because it's not your fault you have his mind communicating with his dick. He has you— a pretty little thing to keep him company, but you're not like any woman he's ever been with before. You're subtle about your urges, and you don't outwardly beg for him to touch you.

When he's being touchy with you, you try to lean into it. It feels good to have his arms around you, but you can't help how he himself makes you feel. He never fails to make you nervous and you can't stop the thrashing of your heart when his hand goes up your shirt. He can feel you shaking as his hand glides up your torso, to your chest. He splays his hand over your heart, feeling the rhythmic crash of it against his palm. It's beating so fast.

"Holy shit," he laughs, feeling the quick rise and fall of your chest. "Baby, turn around and look at me." His hand slides down and out of your shirt. It rides across your stomach as you slowly turn to face him, resting on your waist once you settle. His green eyes take in the sight of your timid expression. There was a soft look in your eyes that was paired with your quivering lips as you attempted to smile for him. "My pretty girl," he starts, his hand coming up to tenderly cup your cheek, "you'll give yourself a heart attack if you don't relax." His eyes follow yours as they derail from his gaze. He can feel the heat that was linked to the pretty shade of red flourishing on your cheeks. "I'm not gonna hurt you." He searches your eyes for comprehension. "You get that?"

"I know," you mumble, shakily putting your hand on his. "Sorry."

"Don't be sorry. Just wanna hear you say 'yes, Toji. I understand'."

"Yes, Toji..." you sigh, pausing to giggle, nervously, due to the wave of embarrassment that courses through you.

"Go on," he says, a sly grin on his face. "Finish."

"I understand," you continue. "I do."

"Good girl," he praises, pinching your cheek. You're like a small bunny to Toji. He would do anything and everything to protect you because you're just so cute and innocent. You're a constant victim to his teasing because of how bashful you are about the little things. It's the exact reason for why Toji loves catching you off guard, sometimes hugging you from behind and leaning in to bite your shoulder. He loves that you always jolt, even when you know it's coming, and you gasp in shock every time. He can't get enough of it.

"Kiss me, yeah?" He says, eyeing your lips. He's leading you, as always, because he's not afraid to tell you he wants you. If he wants a kiss, he'll ask for it or he'll steal it from you. Most of the time, it's the latter.

"Okay," you say, leaning in to place a quick peck on his lips. It's short lived, but Toji got a taste of the sweet lipgloss you're wearing, and he needs more.

"That's just selfish, baby. Come on," he says, pulling you close, again. "Kiss me like you actually like me." He takes charge this time, locking his lips with yours. He starts out slow, but as your lipgloss is transferred onto his lips, and his tongue gets to taste more of its sweetness, he finds himself craving much more. He takes note of how you're struggling to keep up because of your lack of breath, so he resorts to kissing the corners of your lips to give you a chance to breathe. "You taste so sweet, mama." The second your breathing is regulated, he goes back to inhaling you, chuckling into a few kisses when he hears your little pants return. "Fuck, you're killing me." He wipes the remainder of your lipgloss off his lips with a thumb, and watches the flustered expression on your face as he sucks it off.

"Toji..." you whine, burying your face in his chest. You've never met someone like him. So confident that even when he's the one who craves your attention, you get shy about the way he asks for it.

"What? Flustered?" He asks, grinning at the grip you have on his shirt. You nod, silently. "That's too bad," he says with faux sympathy. "'Cause I'm not gonna stop. Not when you react so adorably to every little thing I do to you." He tests his theory and pokes your rib. You squeak in surprise, the exact reaction Toji expected. You sigh, red faced as you flip back onto your other side, facing away from Toji again. "You're really not helping your case, baby. Can't even look at me."

"Hold me," you say, immediately feeling like you're asking too much of him. "Please," you add, to diminish as much of that feeling as you can. Toji would do anything you ask of him because you barely ask him for anything. You're low maintenance, but even then, he understands that it's up to him to make sure you feel loved, cared for, and appreciated, regardless of whether you ask him to show you these affections or not.

"Alright, doll," he says, groaning as he positions himself so that he's spooning you. You can feel his body heat engulfing you as he molds his body into yours. His chest is warm against your back, and his thigh is slightly overlapping your thigh. "Don't know why you struggle to ask me for stuff like this. I won't turn you down."

"I don't wanna annoy you," you say, looking down at his arm that is wrapped around your waist. You can feel his blunt nails on your skin, a slightly ticklish sensation lingering as he draws little lines on you.

"You calling me annoying?" He asks, jokingly. You can hear the playfulness in his tone, a soft laugh released through his nose.

"No... No, I would never, Toji. You're not... I don't think-"

"Shh... I'm fucking with you, doll." He smiles as he places a quick kiss to the nape of your neck, the gesture eliciting soft goosebumps on your stomach, beneath his hand. "I'm only annoying around you... because of how cute, and pretty... and soft you are." You can feel his hands starting to travel further beneath your shirt again. Your heart pangs when his fingers just barely go beneath the cups of your bra, tracing the bottoms of your breasts. "So warm and delicate," he murmurs, continuing to roam further up your torso until he reaches your neck. He brings his index and middle fingers up to your pulse point, instantly locating the restless palpitations of your heart. "You're like a scared little bunny," he says, referring to the quick rhythm of your heart and how tense you've become. "I can put you at ease." His hand goes back down your torso, finding the knotted strings of your sweatpants. "You want that?" He purrs, against the nape of your neck.

"Okay," you respond, hazily, already dizzy on his attention. You can't deny how hot he gets you when he talks to you like this, despite the way your heart is constantly threatening to explode. He easily lures involuntary reactions from your body, like the messiness of your drooling arousal, or the goosebumps that rise when he so much as puts a hand on your back.

"Tell me you want it, mama," he says, untying the knot of your sweatpants. "Tell me how badly you want me to get between those pretty thighs," he says, lowly, right behind you.

"Please, touch me, Toji," you say, turning your head to face him for a brief second before bashfully turning back. You roll down your sweatpants and kick them off once they're down to your ankles. "They're off for you," you say, meekly.

"Oh, you're so fucking cute," he says, immediately feeling up your soft, exposed thighs. "Want me to make you cum?" His hand swipes over the front of your panties, lightly feeling up the soft texture of the garment.

"Please," you say, subtly begging for him to keep touching you. The simple word makes you feel every ounce of vulnerability in the moment, more intensely.

"Such a sweetheart. Don't even have to train you to be nice. It's just in you, huh?"

"Mhm..." you hum, your cunt throbbing at the feeling of his thick fingers rubbing you over your panties. You're already squirming in his hold. His lips against the back of your neck are adding so much to the overwhelming stimulation.

"Toji..." you whimper, wishing you could curl in on yourself while still feeling this pleasure. You grip your pillow as he keeps gliding his glossy fingertips up and down your clothed slit.

"So wet every time, baby. Your panties are a mess," he says lowly into your ear as he spreads the mess even more with each stroke of his fingers. You feel his hard on pressed against your ass, your little jolts of pleasure pushing back into him, offering little relief for him as he bears the sultry sounds of your quiet moans and whimpers. "I know this isn't not enough, so i'm gonna say this once, and once only my pretty girl." Toji's voice goes so low that you think you're being subtly disciplined by him. "Beg for more if you want more."

You gasp, uttering out a desperate, "T-Toji, please. Please, please, please."

"Please what, doll?" He says. Toji works to help you speak up in these situations. He can't help you if you don't say anything, and you'll learn this the hard way if you have to.

"Mmm... c-can you..." you squeak, putting your face in your pillow.

"Calm down and get it out," he murmurs, before kissing your shoulder.

"Please, put your hand inside," you blurt.

"Good girl," he praises. "You know, it's just you and me, right now. You're safe," he coos, sliding his hand into your panties. It's instantly met with warmth and stickiness as he glides his fingers through your slit.

"S-Sorry, i'm sorry.. S-So-," you whimper into your pillow, only able to focus on the pressurized motion of his middle finger rubbing up against your clit. His eyes go dark at the sound of your muffled little moans and whimpers. He can't help the deep chuckle that leaves him when you gasp and allow yourself to seek more pleasure by grinding against his hand.

"You're alright, baby," he murmurs with that softness you're so comfortable hearing from him. "Just let me hear those cute sounds you're making, yeah?" His cock was already twitching in his pants, but something about hearing you giggle while panting made it start throbbing even more. "Feels a lot better, huh?" He says, holding back a groan when your ass pushes against his crotch, again.

You nod, against the pillowcase, your shuddered moans homing into his ears. Toji nearly growls at the way you're consistently rubbing up against his crotch. It feels too good, it's starting to mess with his head. This isn't about him, yet he's so ready to let his selfish side come out and play.

"Fuck," he groans into your ear, a sound that makes your heart drop. "You gonna let me put it in, today?"

You don't answer, hoping your quiet moans make up for your lack of words. You want it so bad, though. At this point, you were having more frequent wet dreams of Toji and you want to believe the reason is because you've denied yourself the experience for so long, but those dreams are more than just a gentle introduction to sex with Toji. They're borderline perverted, featuring things you wouldn't even be able to utter to Toji. At least not now.

"Hm? Gonna let me slide into you, mama?" He asks, gliding his finger through your slit, teasing your entrance when he goes lower. You nearly choked on your own spit once he pushed the digit through, meanwhile Toji had the privilege of previewing the way your cunt spasms around something. His finger for now, but he's hoping maybe something else, later.

You're gripping the pillowcase in your hands so tightly as he feeds the length of his finger into your velvety walls. You're rendered speechless as you tremble in his hold, high pitched whimpers leaving you as you near your orgasm.

"Answer the question, pretty," he gently prompts.

"O-Okay," you say, breathily. "Yes, mhm..." you babble. You're no longer able to hold back your moans or the way your back arches off his front when you finish on his finger. The thick digit slows down inside you, warm coos of "good girl" being murmured to you as you go into your blissful state of serenity. Toji pulls his hand out, admiring the mess you left on his hand. He can't help the wicked grin that takes over his lips at the sight, your glossy remnants coating his middle finger and smearing across his palm.

"Perfect, baby," he praises. He kisses your shoulder and takes the measures necessary to calm your rapid breathing. A warm palm to your back, a secure embrace, words to ensure overall that he's got you.

He turns you over, so that you're flat on your back and takes in the relieved look on your face. He had exactly five seconds to watch you before you became fully conscious of the situation.

"Well, I know you sound pretty with my fingers inside you. Wonder what you sound like with something else in there?"

"Toji..." you whine, flustered by his vulgarity. You had nothing to cover your face with. The vulnerability you felt was immense. Toji's attention alone was like having the eyes of a thousand people focused on your every move.

"In all seriousness, we've been talking about this for a while, now, doll." He cups your jaw with one hand, allowing his thumb to run across your heated cheek. "I want you to feel comfortable when we're together, 'specially during stuff like this." He stares at your glossy lips for a second, thinking of the guaranteed sugary taste before flitting his eyes back to yours. "I don't want you to be scared of saying 'no' to me about anything."

"I'm not scared. I trust you," you say, resting your hand on his wrist. "I'm ready, if you want me." You smile softly, and your gaze nervously shifts from his to his neck, then his chest, before directing itself to his arm.

"If I want you?" Toji laughs in disbelief. "It's sad that you still don't get how much I do." He retracts his hand and figures out a way to loop himself around you so that you're under him. "I want you so fucking bad, baby," he says, leaning forward and into you. He notices the way you jolt when his tent pokes your crotch, and suppresses the devilish grin begging to come out. "I know you can feel it, right?"

You nod, unable to form words in the moment when he's looking at you like that, while shamelessly displaying his desire for you. "Good. Now, one more time, doll. Do you want me?"

"So bad, Toji," you utter. "Beyond bad," you add to accentuate your desperate need for him.

"Fuck... Yeah, mama?" He grins, leaning closer to pepper your face with kisses. You instinctively shut your eyes as he aims higher up on your cheeks and your temple.

"Please..." You sigh. Your cunt is pulsing around nothing due to the way his clothed length rubs against it, through your underwear. "I need you- w-want you," you falsely correct, a nervous giggle leaving you. You can feel the roses that died down on your cheeks begin to bloom again.

Toji perks up when the words leave your lips. He never thought you'd be the one outwardly saying that you need him, but here you both are, edging each other physically and verbally.

"I heard that," he teases, smirking at the sound of another giggle coming from you. "Gonna take real good care of you, baby. Don't worry." He massages your thighs, his face nose distance away from yours so he can catch the glint of lust in your eyes that you hide from him like your life depends on it. He won't kiss you until you either take it from him or ask for it. He can see you staring at his lips to avoid the suffocating eye contact that comes with being so close.

"Put it into words, ma," he says, lightly snapping the elastic band of your underwear on your skin, a couple times. "Tell me."

"Kiss me?" You ask, meekly. Your wish was his command, because he immediately removed the remaining distance between your lips and his. His hands are hot as they travel up your shirt, again. This time they reach behind you to unclip your bra. You're all too aware of the lack of pressure on your chest, as the cups loosen, only pushed against you by your shirt.

He pulls back, a sly grin on his face before his shirt is being tugged off. You have the cutest expression on your face, like you're lost on how things got to this point. Nonetheless, you follow his lead and sit up to take your shirt off. Your halfway off bra is fully removed and tossed aside, along with your shirt. All the alarms of anxiety are sounding off in your head, as you sit there, with only your hands as censors to the sight of your breasts.

"You're pretty," he says, putting his hands on yours. He doesn't pull them down, and instead waits for you to be comfortable enough to reveal yourself to him. It doesn't take long when you start ogling his body. You subconsciously drop your hands as you take in the occasional nicks and scars on his torso. You want to touch all of them, you want to touch all of him. He looks so handsome and soft, and those imperfections all but stunt his attractiveness. You reach out and touch a scar located beneath his ribs, watching his face to make sure it's okay for you to touch him this way, and he shows his approval by doing the same to you. The only difference is you squeak at the slightly ticklish sensation.

"Sorry." You smile, sheepishly, before retracting your hand.

He shakes his head. "You're cute." It was more meant to assure you than fluster you, yet there you were, throwing yourself back onto the pillow with your hands covering your face and your forearms blocking your breasts once again. You're so deep in thought that you don't pay any mind to all the shuffling going on as Toji rids himself of the rest of his clothes.

It's as if the air is knocked out of your lungs when you see the heavy thing Toji packs. It's red and swollen at the tip, and the sight of precum spilling makes your heart race. You feel some burst of pride as you imagine that you're the one making him react this way, but this doesn't sway you from your thoughts of how this could possibly work out for either of you.

"That- Um... How- Mmm..." you buffer, as you struggle to figure out how to bring up the matter without seeming like you're chickening out on him.

He laughs, wholeheartedly, at the expression on your face. You look unsettled, yet curious, and your loss for words only adds on to the picture of innocence he holds for you. "Oh, sweetheart," he says through short remnants of laughter. "You're gonna make my ego burst, if you keep that up." He massages your hips, taking note of the way you press your thighs together at the simple touch. "Ever had an actual dick in there, doll?" There's not an ounce of jest in the question. He just wants to know if you've experienced anything past fingering and oral.

You nod, and your heart thrashes in your chest. Would your response change his view on you? Would he treat you with more roughness because you've gone all the way with some of your past lovers? It was a scary thing to think about, despite the way his thumbs lovingly continued to apply pressure to your hips, like it was a step in your preparation for taking him.

Toji just nods in understanding. He doesn't blame any of the men who got to you before him. With all your amazing qualities and that pretty face of yours, who wouldn't want to stick you? Regardless, based on your reaction, he doubts you've been with a man as... well endowed as him.

"I'll be gentle with you, baby, like you're losing your precious flower all over again." He watches your shoulders gradually drop, your body somewhat relaxed due to his touch and his verbal reassurance. "Let's get these off, yeah?" He says, tugging at your underwear. You lift your hips for him and allow him to roll the garment down your legs. You're just as bare as him, yet you feel the vulnerability at a different volume.

His eyes are glued to the glossiness of your cunt, and all he can think about is what you'll sound like and what you'll look like when you'll filled with him.

"So pretty, mama," he says, thumbing at your slit. "A fucking work of art," he adds when you start squirming like you're sensitive to the combination of his words and touch.

"Toji, no-" your arms are just a bit short of the distance necessary to stop him from sticking his thumb in his mouth.

"Fuck," he growled when your taste coated the tip of his tongue. He had to go back in for more, this time eating straight from the honey pot. He couldn't stop. Not until there was enough of you on his tongue to be swallowed.

You thought this was it. That he would forget about wanting to be inside you when he was too distracted trying to make his palate memorize your taste. Then the muscle halted and you experienced a mini heart attack with the way he uttered "kiss me" with the urgency of a deadline that's past due.

He wasted no time raising himself and looming over you again, his cock making contact with your body for the first time. The kiss was filled with heavy breathing coming from both of you due to the way he slid his length through your slit, back and forth. You could taste yourself on his tongue, which was exactly what Toji was aiming for. A distraction for you with a taste he'll never be able to properly describe. A distraction as he glides his cock between your sticky folds, one last time, before he's directing the tip towards your entrance. You turn your face away to break the kiss, whimpering when he nudges his tip just a little further into you, enough so that you don't push him out and force him to start over.

"I know... I know, princess," he coos, taking in the quiver of your lips. "Put your hands on me. On my arms, my shoulders—whatever you can grip onto that isn't my dick." He grins at the soft laugh that accompanies your misty eyes, and soon enough your hands are on his biceps. They trail up to his shoulders when he dips down to kiss you again. "You can taste yourself, huh?" He mumbles into the corner of your lips, driving more of his length into you, as you respond with a hum and a nod.

"So sweet, doll..." he murmurs, locking lips with you again afterwards. He pushes another inch of his cock into you, swallowing your pained whimpers and squeaks. Rather than digging your nails into his skin, you found yourself losing the strength to even grab onto him. Your shaky fingers peeled off his shoulders and your heels dipped into the mattress. You let out shaky breaths through your nose, which Toji does not ignore. "Mm..." he hums, lips smacking as he releases your lips. "Fuck," he groans. "You got it, mama. Taking it so well. So fucking well, sweetheart." His brows subconsciously crease at the sight of tears spilling from the corners of your eyes.

"Oh, sorry. Sorry," you repeat, using your palm to wipe away the tears. You chuckle, the sound coming out congested. "It's stupid," you mumble, as more tears fill your waterline.

"Hard part's almost over, baby. Promise it'll feel better in a sec." He leans forward to kiss away your new wave of tears, wiping the trails of dampness with the rough pad of his thumb. "It's gonna be so good. Soooo good, baby." He grins when you giggle at the elongated word, and kisses your temple while working the remainder of his length into you. "That's it, that's it- fuck, doll," he mutters, releasing the animalistic groan that's been trapped in his chest for the duration of the time it took to sheathe himself into you. He couldn't bring himself to brag about how good he was feeling when your pretty face was warped by discomfort, but it didn't change the fact that he felt everything. He felt the tightness that was accompanied by borderline rejection from your lack of custom to his cock, he felt the clenching that came with the seemingly never ending intrusion, and he felt your clammy little fingers on his burning skin, until they slid off.

You felt a familiar ache between your thighs, one that replicated your first time, but Toji wasn't lying when he said he'd treat you like you were going through that experience. If he were anyone but your lover, he could've been less careful, yet there he was, wiping your tears and encouraging you to get through the initial struggle in order to get what he wanted to give you from the start.

"All good, ma? Too much?" He asks in search of your verification. He's surveying your now more relaxed features, waiting for your response.

"That's it, right?" you ask, blinking up at him.

"That's it," he confirms, warmth radiating in his gaze.

You let out the biggest sigh, the gesture lifting a good pound off your shoulders. You've been holding your breath the entire time, taking everything for the sake of being good for Toji.

"I can feel you in my guts," you say, jokingly to relieve some of the tension in the situation.

"Good or bad?"

"Anymore and you'll be able to wrap my intestines around it," you add, a lighthearted giggle leaving you.

He laughs through his nose, an unshakeable grin on his face. "Silly girl. Think you can handle some movement?"

You nod, absorbing the glint in his eyes at your agreement. With that, he drags himself out of you, before slowly feeding himself in again. You gasp, immediately flushing at the sound of your voice. You felt more embarrassed now that Toji was able to watch your face.

"M-More... please...?" You managed to squeak out.

"Okay, doll," he says, increasing the pace a little.

Toji's rhythm was tweaked until the noises you tried so hard to keep to a minimum, could no longer be contained. Your whimpers were released into the open air, moans flowing smoothly with every push and pull of his hips. Your breasts were covered in his spit and purpling marks.

"God- Don't look-" you pant, rapidly. "Please... stop staring..." You were flustered beyond repair, your palms coming up to cover your flushed face.

"Let me-" he starts, cut off by a grunt. "Fuck, let me see that pretty face," he tries again, the words coming out raspy. "You either take down those hands or i'll do it for you, doll."

"N-No, please," you beg, a visible shudder reverberating through your body. Having him watch you this close was driving you insane. You felt like he was gonna eat you alive.

"Take them down. Last time i'm gonna say it."

Toji was never mean to you. He liked teasing the hell out of you in good fun, but nothing could ever make him intentionally hurt you or make you feel lesser. Even this sternness came from the pit of his heart.

"Three..."

"Please, no."

"Two..."

"B-Baby," you call, in an attempt to distract him. It made a good reach but he had to shake it off.

"One... Now you've temporarily lost the use of your arms," he says, effortlessly pulling your hands away from your face, pinning them beside your head with his own enormous hands. He instantly captures the flourishing red on your cheeks. "You're so cute, ma. What are you hiding yourself from me for? Huh?"

You think you might die with the way he's gripping onto your soul through the way he holds eye contact. Unwavering, intense, just borderline debilitating.

"Please, Toji. Don't look at me like that."

"I want to. You're so pretty, it's getting me off, doll." He groans, the clench of your cunt around his cock squeezing him so well. "I know it's doing things to you, too. You like being watched by me, baby?"

You've never felt so good that your eyes rolled back into your head. To say that you were in heaven was an understatement for what you truly felt, because it happened then and there, for the first time. Those pretty eyes that normally freeze in shock or widen in surprise, were reduced to white cue balls, fluttering shut to prolong the inevitable acknowledgment of the sight by Toji. You inhale sharply, releasing the breath, shakily.

"Fuuuck, princess..." he practically growls. "That was enough of an answer. Holy fuck." He smirks at the way you avoid his gaze after the matter, your mouth still slightly ajar as you release those doubled little breaths. "So good- Such a good fucking girl," he speaks into your jaw, his ability to hear you enhancing when you start breathing and moaning beside his ear. "Fuck, gonna cum, doll. Where do you want it?"

"God... fuck it into me," you babble, so confidently, almost mindlessly.

"Yeah? Want me to fuck it into you?" He purrs, lips sucking on your sensitive skin.

"Mhm," you hum quietly, the high pitch confirming your pleasure ridden daze. Your nails have left enough indentations in your palms to need caring for after you both finish, so you uncurl your fingers and try to loosen Toji's grip on your wrist.

"Can't have you covering your pretty face again, baby. N-Not when i'm so close," he reproves, unlatching himself from your jaw to stare into your shiny eyes. You somehow managed to get what you wanted, anyway. His left hand dragged up your wrist, and over your palm before lacing his fingers between yours, effectively keeping it pinned to the bed while satisfying your need for more tenderness. "You sure, doll? I can't stop it once it happens," he says, desperate for your response as his orgasm gets closer.

"Please, Toji..." you confirm, squeezing his hand. Within a couple seconds he gives you everything he has. He sounds like someone who's been deprived of physical intimacy for too long, the gasps and hitched breaths he leaks bringing a tremble to your chest with how hard your heart is beating against your ribcage.

"Oh fuck, baby... baby." He lets out a short, deep laugh, ragged breaths expelled from his mouth as he thrusts significantly more slowly into you, pushing his warm seed further with every roll of his hips. He leans down to connect his lips with you, releasing your left wrist to drag his right hand down between where you both connect. He rubs your clit rapidly, swallowing the little whimpers you hum into his mouth as he rapidly works to bring you another orgasm. "Cum," he whispers, only pausing the languid entanglement of your lips for the purpose of getting the single word out. As if you were compelled by him, your walls violently spasmed around his length and you released all over him.

Toji responded to all your unfinished thoughts and unabashed moans, with nodding and humming to assure you that your rambling was being heard. He lured out all your pleasure, only stopping when you cried out little pleas for mercy, your stomach quivering and your legs twitching.

Toji returned his index and middle fingers to the pulse point on your neck, staring at you as he felt your heartbeat tap rapidly against his fingertips. He wordlessly watched with a smirk on his face, until your little huffs subsided and your heartbeat somewhat regulated.

"My little bunny," he teases, that sly, fox-like grin undying.

Your cheeks burned with every second that his gaze lingered on your face. All you could do was let out a small whine at the nickname before pushing his hand away from your neck.

He pulls out of you, taking in the tremble of your thighs that accompanies the new vacancy of your cunt. You let out a final sigh, before completely stilling on the bed. He ran two fingers between your slit, smearing your combined mixture of fluids on your inner thighs and stomach. You couldn't argue about the messiness when your pussy fluttered at the gesture.

Toji lets himself fall into place beside you, immediately bringing you close to him again. He blinks, not knowing how to phrase what he feels in the moment. He feels good, happy, satisfied, and everything in between. You're glowing right before him. He can see himself in your eyes from how much they shine.

"Doll, stay." He lets out the breath caught in his chest, bringing a warm hand to the dulcet features on your face.

"Hm?" You heard him, but you want him to be sure. You like to believe you know Toji's mannerisms well enough, and this is a test for one of them. You know that if he's not sure about something or if he's second guessing himself, he won't repeat what he said.

"I want you to stay," he repeats, shutting down your doubts. His thumb tenderly grazes your cheek. "Stay and freshen up with me before bed. I've always wanted to hear your morning voice."

You furrow your brows in confusion, a soft smile still gracing your face. "You've heard my morning voice. I've stayed over before."

He smirks. "That's not how I mean it, baby. You'll find out tomorrow if you stay."

"Oh. Oh... Jeez, Toji." You can't even look at him. There's a familiar look of innocence on your face, one that Toji loves more than you'll ever know. Your eyes get all glassy and your cheeks start glowing red. You start giggling at every little thing, not able to move past such an indirectly vulgar thing so quickly.

He pulls you even closer, a grin on his face as your noses touch. "Stay," he repeats, again. "You know you want to." He lures a giggle out of you with this. "And I want you here."

You break. You were never gonna say no, but it was becoming increasingly harder to withhold your response. "Okay, okay."

"Yeah?" He pecks your lips. "You're gonna stay?" He places another quick kiss.

"Ye- To-" He keeps interrupting you with rapid, chaste kisses. "Toji." You giggle. "I'm staying!"

"I knew that."

[dumbification]

luxurious ft. aventurine

summary: aventurine's love for you was expensive, and having your lips meet his was pure euphoria.

cw: aventurine x fem!reader, nothing much just a hot make out sesh, listen to luxurious by gwen stefani while reading

you wonder how you got here.

someone pathetic like you, sipping champagne in one of the finest hotels of penacony.

you could really never imagine living a luxurious life, you've been working night and day from the pits of hell. now you're rolling in cashmere with aventurine---he's been there.

as you take another sip from your glass, you shyly shift in his lap. he softly laughs for a minute, wishing he could see your expression right now.

your face blushed with a tinge of crimson, a bead of sweat gathering at your temple. you've never been in a private room with him, you only met at busy parties.

he presses a kiss on your nape, lingering to fan his hot breath on you. you felt butterflies flutter in your stomach. you decide to stand to lean against your mini bar for a while, to give yourself a little break. intimacy stresses you out.

"is something wrong?" he swirls his drink in his hand, and takes a sip from his champagne along with you. "not really. i'm just.."

you know he's worried, but that fake smile plastered on him always said otherwise. "just what?" he stands up as well.

in the blink of an eye, he's right in front of you, so close.. "just nervous." he gives you a look that spawns even more butterflies in your stomach.

the two of you put away your drinks when you catch him taking a glimpse at your lips. you know what he wants. you want it too. so badly.

"is my lip gloss smudged, or what?"

"don't play dumb."

he takes a step closer to hold your chin, he gently raises it to have you look at him in his eyes. they're beautiful. you thought. you feel like you could swim in them, it's like they could hypnotize you into doing whatever he wants. you would, no matter what it was.

you were so lucky to have a beauty like him.

he licks his lips as he sees your own tremble in excitement. the two of you are desperate to feel each other.

before you could finish your next thought, his lips collide with yours, and it's absolute perfection. they're so delicate. he thought of your lips, and your lips only. you can feel the butterflies fluttering somewhere far deeper.

you find your hands in his hair, gently tugging at it to encourage him to keep on going. his hands are all over you. one hand resting on your waist, and the other stroking your back, having you gasp and arch.

"tell me how it feels.." his voice was silky and melodious. you would fold when he spoke softly. your voice was his harmony, your sounds perfectly blending with his own.

aventurine wouldn't give you a break, you might as well just share breath. he ushered you to be more vocal by languidly grinding against you.

and you were vocal. extremely vocal. he knew just what to do, and knew how to make you crumble in his arms.

you were practically melting. you were drenched in arousal, longing for something more euphoric. the passion in him multiplied rapidly when he felt how soaked you were.

he pulls away to look at the mess you are. your legs barely keep your balance as you struggle to put two words together. your face burns a deep, beet red.

"someone's excited." aventurine smirks as he plants a kiss against your cheek. he effortlessly slips your red dress off and tosses it aside.

you avert your eyes in embarrassment. "a-aven, I.." now he really gets to see how excited you are. he himself burns a deep, beet red.

he's just as excited as you are. butterflies flutter around his insides, urging him to release his throbbing member from it's confinements.

but your eyes gave him a silent plea to slow down, so he listened.

something was so luxurious about your love. when your lips meet, it all turns to gold. you were his hidden treasure.

he was so lucky to have a beauty like you.

[opluffys]

Leading Score-

somethin quick, posted first to my archive. pls let me know if there are any errors or if it copied weird. pls enjoy <3

tags- size kink, size difference, creampie, vaginal sex, rough sex, desk sex, fem reader.

2.3k words.

-Ghost x Reader-

-smut/nsfw-

As you had graded papers from your young students, you idly hummed as you noted how most of the scores had went up. Regarding spelling, it had been some of your kids weaker points, but after practicing with them one on one, they had gotten better, much to your pleasure.

"Done!"

You looked up from the monotonous tone of black on white, quickly writing a red mark next to the misspelled 'contree', you smiled warmly and took Joseph's paper.

"That was quick, sweetie. You could've taken until your daddy came to pick you up." You said, looking down at his exam and clicking your red pen.

"I'm fast." He smiled, sitting back in his small desk and chair, kicking his legs wildly as he awaited your feedback.

And however badly you wished to give him a full twenty out of twenty on his exam, spelling was one of the things that Joseph had struggled the most with. You knew he wouldn't improve overnight, which is why you were hopeful for tonight.

Even though it wasn't parent-teacher conference night, Joseph had been chirping, 'my daddy is picking me up today, and then we'll get ice cream.' before hearing a cacophony of envious groans. It had you laughing, yet hatching a quick plan to discuss Joseph's struggles with his father. You already had a small packet labeled 'trouble words' to give to his father, hoping they'd be able to practice over the long weekend.

Seeing as Joseph had been bored at his desk, you called him over to give him some puzzles or colouring sheets to do. He eagerly thanked you before returning to his seat, noisily scribbling on the paper.

Quickly finishing grading his spelling errors, he'd gotten a thirteen out of twenty. It'd been a wild and vast improvement from his other exams, but you knew he could do better.

You stood up and walked over to Joseph's desk, ruffling his hair and placing a small lollipop on his table. "You did better, honey. But I want you to practice more, can you promise me that?" You crouched down to his level, talking to him in a soft and understanding tone, a warm and inviting smile on your face. It had made him feel comfortable, not scolded, not 'do better', no. He'd wanted to do this on his own, seeing as he had nodded furiously, telling you that he'd do perfect on the next one.

You took his exam and walked outside of your classroom, leaning against the wall and waiting for Joseph's father to show. School had been finished for a while, the extracurricular activities ending early due to the extended weekend.

Out of your peripheral, you'd seen a tall figure walking towards your class. He had caught your eye easily, since the man was extremely tall and well built. As he'd gotten closer, you noted how he wore a balaclava with a skull pattern over the material. An interesting, choice to wear to an elementary school, but to each their own, you supposed.

"Mr. Riley, before you take Joseph, can we talk about how he's doing in class?" You inquired, quickly checking on the adorable child idly drawing on his papers before continuing the conversation with his dad.

"I'm not his old man." He said, voice low and gravelly as he held your stare.

Before you were able to ask what his relation was, he quickly replied that Joseph was his nephew.

"Oh! Then you must be Simon." You smiled, resisting the urge to tear your eyes away from him, seeing his dark eyes change expression for a moment, wondering how you knew who he was.

"Emergency contacts." You quickly added, chuckling awkwardly. He only offered you his cold stare, waiting for you to continue. "Well, if it isn't too much trouble, can you relay this to Joseph's dad for me?" You timidly asked, the tall man's presence causing you to feel skittish.

He gave you a curt nod, his shoulders relaxing as he stepped closer to you, looking at the paper in your hands. "Joseph struggles a lot with spelling," You almost choked on your words as you felt his arm brush against your shoulder, attempting to find your words once more, "as does his classmates. But I know he can show further improvement if he can practice at home." You showed him Joseph's test, his hand connecting with yours briefly before he took it in his larger one.

He hummed lowly, reading over his mistakes. "I have a packet of tough words for him that he'll need to practice," You went back into your classroom, hearing Simon's impossibly quiet steps echo behind you.

"Honey, your da-" You caught yourself before making the mistake, "uncle, is here." Though, you didn't really need to tell him, seeing as Joseph shot up from his seat to run over to Simon, hugging him tightly.

"Hey kid." His voice was soft, still low and rough, but that was just how he'd always sound. Seeing such a thing made your heart melt, having to quell the want to 'aww' at the sight unfolding, the huge man embracing such a tiny child endearing yet comical.

"It was nice to meet you." You said, handing Simon the packet, "And you," You laughed, looking down at Joseph, "keep your promise to me."

"I will!" He happily beamed, a toothy grin shining up at you.

You waved the two goodbye, turning to go back into your class and continue the long trek of finishing up your students papers. You had also wanted to enjoy your weekend, placing work on the back burner as you got lost in endless glasses of wine.

•

Never in your years of teaching had you ever expected a parent-teacher meeting to end like this, never.

Bent over your desk and crying out as you felt Simon behind you, large hands on the fat of your hips as he slammed into you. Your hands grasped at the edge of the wood desk, glossy eyes popped wide open as you felt his fat cock stretch you open inch by delicious inch.

How you two had went from talking about Joseph's amazing and impressive progress in class to him whispering the most vile things in your ears, an impressive feat. But you'd be a filthy liar if you hadn't been thinking of you and him in this very position.

"Simon..." You moaned, laying your tear stained cheek onto your desk, wetting any loose papers that remained. You almost sobbed when you felt his big hand slap your ass harshly, rubbing in small circles to soothe the stinging supple flesh.

His hard and toned muscles were flush against your softer back, his masked forehead pressing against your shoulder. His deep grunts and groans were right into your ear, having you squeeze him tightly, dragging him in deeper. Just the fact that he was so big had you unraveling on his fingertips. His hoarse and low voice telling you to be a 'good girl and push yourself against the desk.'

What else could you do but oblige?

"Fuck, you're tiny." He cursed, accented voice directly against your ear, his deep breaths and sounds repeating in your head again and again. You lost your words, brain just muddled thoughts and him in your head. You just mewled in response to his words, already aware of the fact that the differences in sizes between you two was evident. Evident in how his entire hand seemed to swallow the skin at your hip whole, how his shadow enveloped your own, he was just so big.

Tears continued their flow down your heated cheeks as you felt his dick assault your insides. Wet and warm walls clamping down on him with a vice-like grip, the hot sliding of his cock deep inside you having you cry out to him. Your blouse had been bunched up and held by Simon as he anchored himself to it, his hold on the fabric tight as his pace never faltered.

Your mixed sounds had been heard, skin against skin reverberating around the walls. Your heat taking him in and out hung embarrassingly in the room, your sounds louder as his hips continued to meet your backside. He watched, mesmerised at seeing your body recoil in response to his movements, how despite your smaller stature, you took his large girth, in fact, you'd wanted more.

The feeling of being stuffed to the absolute brim, or rather well past it, had you seeing stars. You don't remember the last time you'd been fucked like this, so raw and primal like. Losing your ability to form cognitive thoughts, the only thing that you'd been able to say was quiet, meek curses and affirmations.

To further your pleasure, he snuck a hand under you, pressing hard on your abdomen, pressing your insides against his cock. You almost screamed, his hot hand against your stomach had you reeling, your pussy squeezing his cock tightly at his touch.

"So good," You sobbed, knuckles blanching at how harsh your grip had been, he was so deep inside of you, too far. You wondered if you should curse him, as no other individual would surely match him in bed ever again, shattering your expectations of any other man permanently.

Your back had arched as you felt your high quickly approaching, sobbing when you felt his flushed head kiss flush against your womb, having your painted nails claw at the wooden desk. Crying his name out in broken sobs, stringing your words together pathetically as he unraveled you with his cock.

His hands around your soft body tightened, hearing the threads of your blouse rip, it's buttons loosening from its rightful position and scattering onto the ground. It'd been one of your favourites, but you couldn't find it in yourself to care, not with such a huge cock splitting your insides, having you yell out to him like a mantra.

When you felt him slam directly into that spot nestled within you, that bundle of nerves that had you seeing double, you nearly screamed, burying your head into your folded arms. You had to bite your wrists, you throat growing raw at all of your screaming, muffled whimpers spilled from your lips, eyes watering as you felt him ram into that spot with unknown precision.

He took both of your hands in his lone one, using your own wrists to hold onto while he continued to fuck you into the desk. "None of that, wanna hear you." He huffed, groaning when he felt you squeeze him tightly at his words.

You quietly moaned, your aching throat unable to produce sound at this point. Your fingers clasped and laced with your opposing hand, making it easier for him to hold onto your wrists. Grounding himself against you, his pace sped up, his length slamming into you over and over, it was too much, too good.

Your teary eyes etched closed, that familiar knot deep in your abdomen beginning to loosen, disentangling with every drag of him inside. Your gummy walls tightened around him, that pressure within finally ridding, just feeling pure bliss. Your orgasm washed over you like a tidal wave, rough waters eventually calming as your slick trickled down your spread thighs.

"That's it, take it," He cursed lowly, feeling your velvety heat clamp down on him, "doin' so well for me." You had no choice but to lay there and take it, take him. But you'd lay yourself down on any surface if he had asked you to, offering him your all whenever he'd commanded.

He assisted you in riding out your orgasm, your excess arousal making it easier for him to fuck deeper into you. He still trapped both of your hands in his singular one, garnering you unable to move properly without the assistance of your hands. His other hand had been attached to your hip, absentmindedly squeezing the fat of it every few thrusts.

You whimpered his name, your senses being thrown into overexertion while your nerves felt fried. His stamina was impressive, as you were normally used to a quick and disappointing fuck where only one of you had finished. He'd actually taken your own pleasure into consideration, that in itself had been surprising.

You felt his thick and heavy cock twitch inside your wet heat, hearing him curse deeply. His thrusts were sporadic and random, yet they still had your back arching.

You felt his masked forehead press against your bare shoulder. He deeply groaned as he shallowly thrusted into your wet and fluttering heat, spilling himself deep inside of you, painting your insides the prettiest of white.

The two of you stayed like that for a moment, feeling him soften inside of you as he pulled out with a pained hiss. You had been slightly saddened at the loss of warmth inside of you, biting your bottom lip in fear that you'd accidentally blurt out something lecherous.

He assisted you in redressing, apologising at ripping your blouse. He offered you his large sweatshirt, covering majority of you. His scent was intoxicating, you had half a mind to lead him onto your spin chair, seating yourself down on his cock and using him for your own pleasure. But you just thanked him, rolling the sleeves up as you adjusted the scattered papers on your desk. You'd come back to clean in the morning, it was still the weekend and you had wine to attend to.

After ensuring you were dressed adequately, he walked you out and into your own car. He stared deeply into your endearing gaze, before a single question left his covered lips.

"What'd he get?"

You couldn't help but smile, turning the key into the ignition and hearing your old car sputter to life. Your hands loosened around the steering wheel before turning back to him once more,

"Twenty out of twenty."

[not-magdi]

"Chocolates"

Warnings: smut, 18+

Summary: You and Pablo try out some special chocolates

Word Count: 1k

Reading Time: 4 min

A/N

This whole thing is actually not my idea, it was @amaranthineghost idea so all credits go to her and her post.

Hope you enjoy it, love you guys Magdi <3

---------

Pablo's body felt like it was on fire. Every muscle in his body longed for her. He didn't even know it was possible to feel so turned on as he currently is. Swallowing down the lump in his throat, he looked over at you, hoping to see the same effect on you.

He shuddered when he glanced at you and found you sitting on the couch, looking completely unbothered like these damm chocolates didn't even do anything to you.

When you saw a video of a couple trying out these unique chocolates, you knew you wanted to try these things with Pablo, too. You two have been trying out new things in the bedroom lately. Not that there was anything wrong with your sex life, but you two are young and want to experiment a bit.

As you first came to him with the idea, he just smiled and waved you off, not believing a piece of chocolate could have such an effect on him. So you ordered them and made a challenge out of it. The one who lasts longer has total control afterwards.

Still not believing these things work, Pablo agreed instantly. Most of the time, you were the one who initiated things, so he wasn't worried he had to give away the control tonight.

Oh, how he cursed himself for making this bet now. He was slowly losing his mind. It was only ten minutes since you split one of these little squares. Little beads of sweat collected on his forehead as his sweatpants became tighter with every second.

He thought you didn't see him struggling so badly, but you did. You acknowledged every movement of his, every little huff he let out as he adjusted himself again. You had a perfect look at him from your peripheral vision, your phone screen long dark, you only had your eyes on him.

You would lie when you'd say you weren't affected at all. The warmth between your legs was growing stronger and stronger. You were just better at hiding it.

Pablo, on the other hand, was close to exploding. Because you just had to wear his favourite pair of shorts you own and one of his old jerseys with his name on the back.

The images that were flooding his mind were everything but PG13. As much as he tried to stop it, he couldn't. Pictures of you on your knees before him, his hands in your hair as his cock was buried deep down in your throat.

A choked sound left his lips as he bucked his hips up into nothing to get at least a bit of friction.

Smirking, you sit up, looking into his eyes with a smug expression, "You giving up?"

His face flushes bright red, "N-no I'm fine, totally fine."

"Ok, if you say so." Shrugging, you lay yourself on your stomach before him. Now, Pablo had a great look at how good your ass looks in those shorts.

Groaning loudly, he finally admits defeat. "Baby, come here, now."

Smirking, you stand up and walk over to him, making sure to sway your hips while walking. Now standing between his legs, you wrap your arms around his neck and close the distance between you two.

Feeling her soft, chapped lips against his own made every muscle shiver. God, how he missed that feeling. Almost like an instinct, his hands ran down her spine and flattened against her ass. Applying some force, he urged you to curl your body against his.

Finally, having her sitting where he needed her the most drew a sinful sound from his lips. "You like that baby? Huh, you like having me in your lap?"

Pablo's grip on you got tighter, moving you gently on his dick. "Mhm you know I love it, Amor." He whispered into your ear.

You two continued to share passionate kisses as you gradually became less clothed. Now, only in your underwear, Pablo moves to go on top of you, but you stop him.

"Hey, you lost the bet. I'm on top tonight."

Letting out a huff, Pablo moves to sit up again and guides you on his lap. Both of you let out a hiss as your core brushes over his clothed dick. You start to brush soft kisses all over his necked chest. While your hand slowly moves downwards, scratching his abs slightly with your nails.

"Mhm, fuck Y/N!" Your hand finally disappears beneath the cotton of his boxers. Pablo sucked in a sharp breath as you griped him in and slowly started to massage him.

Pushing his underwear down his thighs, you climb up again after removing your panties. Locking your eyes with Pablo, you slowly sink down on his length, letting out a loud whimper when he is bottoming you out.

Pablo's hands grip your hips tightly while he leaves wet kisses all over your collarbones. You start to move gently up and down, increasing your pace gradually.

Your nails claw into his back as Pablo starts to thrust upwards into you, your breath hitching with every thrust. Arching your back a bit makes Pablo hit your G-spot with every thrust.

"Shit Pablo, right there!"

"Right here, baby? Yeah, does that feel good?"

Your words coiled in your throat. The only answer you can give are high-pitched moans right into Pablo's ear.

Feeling the coil in his stomach get tighter and tighter, Pablo reaches down to rub your clit. Wanting you to come before him.

Pablo's finger flicking aggressively on your clit was the last thing you needed to cum. Clenching hard around him, you release your juices all over his lap, squirming at the overstimulation.

Grunting loudly, Pablo feels your walls clenching around him and shoots his load deep into you.

You two bask in the afterglow of two amazing orgasms for a few minutes until Pablo picks you up and carries you to the bathroom.

"You ok, Amor?"

Cuddling yourself deeper into his strong arms, you nod. "I'm good, and I love you."

Pablo giggles and snuggles you into the soft blanket of your bed. You were always becoming a big softie after sex, and Pablo thought it was the cutest thing ever.

Cuddling himself next to you, he grabs you and snuggles his face into your neck.

"Goodnight bebé, I love you."

"I love you too."

----

Don't forget to leave a note if you enjoyed it, feedback is always welcome!! ❤️

[seulrinnie-rinrin]

Elevator

SUMMARY | You and Wooyoung are stuck in the elevator with nothing to do but talk. But when you are awfully aware of how close he is, you can’t help but act on your urges. PAIRING | Wooyoung/Reader GENRE | non-idol!Wooyoung, smut with no plot, unprotected sex (wrap it up everyone!), fingering, oral, vaginal sex, elevator sex RATING | Mature LENGTH | 2593 words AUTHOR’S NOTE | On the shorter side but still smutty~

"Nononono. This can't be happening." You ran a hand through your hair, sliding down the walls of the elevator as it stopped moving. The lights were out and you could barely make out the figure of the man who stood next to you.

Of all days to get a power outage!

"Freaking out like that isn't going to make things better." The man muttered, his voice low and calm. "Breathe deep. Count to ten. Do something productive. Shit. I forgot what to do when things go bad."

He added, not sounding at all sincere.

You didn't need him to tell you to breathe; you'd been doing so since the lights went out in the first place. Your heart was pounding and the sweat on your palms made them slippery. The whole situation was just freaking bizarre and the adrenaline pumping through your body wasn't helping either.

You knew you had a bad feeling when you woke up this morning as you struggled to get out of bed. All your work clothes were in the laundry hamper, a lightbulb went out in your bathroom while you showered, you ran out of coffee and there was nothing left to eat for breakfast besides half an apple that had turned brown overnight.

On top of all that, the bathroom mirror showed that the faint lines around your eyes were more pronounced than usual.

And now you're stuck in the company's elevator with that very attractive employee in your department, one who is probably pissed off that he can't find anything to do while trapped here too.

"I knew I should have called in today." You muttered, burying your face in your hands. "This day couldn't possibly get any worse."

"How worse could it be?" The man asked, looking slightly annoyed but also amused by the sight of you bawling your eyes out on the elevator floor. He took a few steps forward before stopping again, taking another deep breath. "It's just a power outage after all. It happens every now and then."

"True enough." You agreed, raising your head to look up at him. "I just can't believe I'm stuck here with you."

"What's wrong with being stuck in an elevator with me?" He laughed.

"Not funny, Wooyoung." You frowned. "God, I can already hear all the other ladies in our department talking shit about me. Why do I always get myself into these situations? Like I haven't got enough problems as it is."

"I mean there's one way we can deter the shit talking." He smirked, gesturing at himself suggestively.

You groaned and shook your head. You really needed to get out of here soon or else your colleague was going to try to make a move on you and then you'll be really fucked. Not that you weren't interested in the idea, but you've heard some horror stories from friends who hooked up with co-workers and most of them ended badly.

You glanced around nervously, wondering how long the power outage would last and how long you'd be stuck in this elevator. You wondered if they'd think of any contingency plan if they realized how much time had passed since the lights went out. Maybe they'd sent maintenance to fix it? Hopefully someone will come soon.

"What are you thinking about, Y/N?" Wooyoung asked, sinking to the floor next to you. His legs crossed and his arms resting casually on his knees. "Having second thoughts about making a move on me?"

"I am not trying to make a move on you, no matter how attractive you may be." You mumbled. "Are you really sure you want to know what I'm thinking?"

"I have been told I have good hearing." He grinned, nudging you playfully with his shoulder. "Go ahead and tell me. Whatever it is, I won't judge you."

"Just being in this elevator is making my anxiety go up the wazoo." You sighed, sitting back against the wall.

"That's why I'm trying to distract you." He said with a shrug. "So, you really want to tell me what's bothering you?"

"I've just had such a bad day." You sighed. "I struggled to get out of bed this morning. All my work clothes were in the hamper, the light bulbs went out during my shower, I didn't have any breakfast except for a stupid apple that turned brown and I ran out of coffee this morning. Everything seemed to conspire against me this morning and..."

You took a deep breath and stared down at your feet, knowing that if you looked at him, you might let yourself get carried away. Wooyoung squeezed your hands gently.

"This kind of thing doesn't happen to me. I've always got my shit together, but today, everything seems to fall apart. One after the other." You muttered.

"Y/N, don't feel embarrassed about having bad days. Everyone has them." He murmured. "Sometimes life can be cruel and unjust, leaving us to struggle with burdens we never thought we could carry alone. It happens to the best of us."

"Maybe." You sighed. "But sometimes you wish that sometimes those bad days wouldn't happen at all."

"Well, we can't always get what we want, right?" He smiled gently. "But if we accept reality as it is, rather than as we wish it to be, perhaps we'll feel better and cope better with whatever life throws at us."

"Who are you and what have you done to the cocky Wooyoung I work with?" You let out an amused sigh. "Is it possible to see two sides of a person at once? Because I definitely saw a different side of you today. Thank you for being nice to me."

"Oh come on, it's nothing special." He waved his hand dismissively. "But I'd like a kiss as payment for comforting you. That's if...you want to."

You looked at him, eyes taking in his handsome face. His messy hair, slightly tousled from always running his hands through them. Those eyes that made you weak in the knees. The lips that were dangerously close to yours.

"Do you want to kiss me?" He asked quietly, tilting his head to the side.

There was a moment where neither of you moved, staring deeply into each other's eyes until finally Wooyoung leaned closer and pressed his lips against yours softly.

The soft kiss surprised you, making you pull away slightly. But Wooyoung didn't seem fazed by it and instead he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer. You returned the kiss, brushing your lips against his before pressing your mouth more firmly against his.

Your lips parted slightly as he continued to press kisses to your lips, opening wider as his tongue slid along the seam of your mouth, exploring every corner until finally parting to allow him entrance. He tasted faintly of coffee, which made you wonder if he drank a cup before he came down here, but his taste was still pleasantly sweet.

"You know I could care less about what our coworkers would say about us." He muttered against your lips. "I only have eyes for you."

His words, along with his closeness and the scent of his cologne filled your senses and slowly your breathing became deeper, almost as though your lungs were expanding and pushing the air inside even further. The electricity flowing between you caused goosebumps to rise on your skin, spreading all over your body as his hands tightened their grip around your waist.

As much as you wanted to deny it, his lips and his touch were sending sparks of pleasure shooting across your skin and a warm sensation rushed to your core.

"Wooyoung..." You moaned, closing your eyes tightly. You felt his lips graze your jawline, before moving lower to nip at your earlobe. A shiver ran down your spine and your knees began to weaken, causing you to lean back against the wall behind you.

"Y/N..." He whispered, nibbling at your neck before he began to suckle your earlobe. "Do you want me to stop?"

The question caught you completely off guard and you opened your eyes to stare into his. In the dim lighting of the elevator, your pupils were drawn into his dark eyes, which seemed to have gone darker, taking on a darker shade.

"No." You breathed, leaning in to press your lips against his.

And Wooyoung seemed equally affected by your kiss. Before you could blink, his hands reached up and grabbed the sides of your face, pulling you towards him so that your lips met once more.

With every kiss, the intensity grew and soon you were lost in the sensations coursing through your body. When he pulled away slightly to give you a chance to catch your breath, your breath hitched and you licked your lips before reaching up to run your fingers through his hair.

The man in front of you was no longer the Wooyoung you usually worked with. Instead, he looked like a man who knows exactly what he wants and won't hesitate to take it.

"Don't stop." You breathed out, Wooyoung lifted you in his arms. His face darkened with desire and his breath came out in shallow pants as he gazed down at you with hunger in his eyes. "Please..."

He dropped to his knees, lifting your skirt and tugging your panties aside, revealing your pussy. It was slick with excitement and arousal and you felt your breath quicken. The sight of your cunt getting wetter was arousing and thrilling, as he looked up at you expectantly.

Before you could stop him, he slipped two fingers inside your pussy and began to stroke you, bringing out small whimpers of pleasure. He continued to slide his fingers in and out of you, fucking you with such skill and control.

Your legs began to shake uncontrollably, feeling weak from the pleasure he brought you and you sank back against the wall, needing something to hold onto. He didn't need to be told twice and quickly placed his hand under your knee, bringing it to rest on his shoulder, his face now buried between your thighs.

You let out a gasp when his tongue began to lap at your clit, teasing it and making it throb with pleasure. You closed your eyes and tilted your hips upwards, allowing him better access to your center. Your hips bucked erratically, driving his tongue faster, while his fingers kept pumping in and out of you.

He hummed and thrust his tongue harder against your clit, causing you to moan loudly. You started panting heavily, sucking in your bottom lip as he began to finger fuck you in earnest, fastening his pace. There was no mistaking it anymore. He was totally focused on pleasuring you, intent on giving you mind blowing orgasms.

The combination of the electric shocks from his fingers in conjunction with the vibrations from his tongue was too much to bear. Soon your hips began to buck violently, moaning and whimpering, driven mad by the pleasure that overwhelmed you.

"Fuck!"

It was unlike anything you ever experienced before. As you screamed his name, letting go of all control, all you could do was keep your orgasm coming, flooding his mouth with your juices until your body relaxed against the wall and he withdrew his tongue, licking the last traces of your cum from his lips.

"Holy fuck..." You gasped, catching your breath.

"Good?" He asked, kissing your inner thigh and working his way up to kiss you. You could taste yourself on his lips, but it only added to your arousal.

"So good but now..." Your knees went weak and you rested your forehead against his. "Now I need you to fuck me."

In an instant, he lifted you so that you could wrap your legs around his waist. The position left you open and vulnerable, as he settled himself between your legs and pushed forward, burying his cock deep inside you. You gasped as you took his length fully, enjoying the fullness of him. The feel of him filling you to capacity.

Wooyoung thrust in and out of you, setting a steady pace that made you cling onto him. With each thrust, his pelvis smacked against your clit, making you cry out.

The speed increased as you leaned back against the wall, lifting your ass higher to accommodate him. Wooyoung gripped your hips, moving them back and forth with precision, hitting just the right spot. He pressed kisses to your neck, then your ears before finding your lips again.

The combination of the feel of his hands gripping your hips and the feel of his hard cock pulsating inside you, sent ripples of pleasure shooting through your body, igniting your passion.

"Oh God...Wooyoung..." You groaned, arching your back as his tongue found its way to your earlobe.

"You feel so good. I could fuck you forever." He whispered, thrusting into you harder and harder, his balls slapping against your ass with each thrust. "Can I fuck you forever?"

"Yes please...Yes. Yes.." You moaned, pressing your body tighter against his.

His moans were growing louder as he thrust into you faster and faster, matching your pace. With every thrust, his fingers dug into your hips, holding you tight against him. Every time you pressed back against him, he let out a long groan, then immediately buried himself inside you, fucking you harder and harder.

"Y/N... Y/N... Come for me..." He groaned against your ear.

It took every ounce of willpower not to let yourself cum, but his moans and the feel of his hard cock deep inside you drove you crazy and you knew you couldn't hold back any longer.

The muscles in your stomach clenched and a tremor coursed through your body as another orgasm ripped through you, leaving you trembling. Wooyoung thrust harder, gritting his teeth and growling as he came with you. The sight of him losing control and calling out your name made your heart skip a beat and make your knees buckle.

But before you could fall to the floor, he caught you in his arms and held you tightly, kissing you tenderly. You were completely spent and all you wanted was to collapse into his arms.

"I got you." He whispered, wrapping his arms around you protectively.

As soon as Wooyoung placed you on your feet, the power kicked back on and the elevator started moving again. The both of you let out a laugh as you fixed your clothes, making sure that nothing had fallen out of place.

"Wooyoung?" You turned to look at him, smiling at him. "Thank you."

He grasped your hand, linking your fingers together as you walked towards the doors. "Anytime."

As the elevator door opened, he let go of your hand, placing his hands on the doors and holding them open for you. He watched as you exited the elevator, giving you one last smile before he followed you.

When you got to your desk and Wooyoung to his, you were both silent, content in the fact that you had each other and no one else knew what had happened between the two of you. And when you turned to look at your phone, you saw a text from him asking if you wanted to get dinner later.

Your heart skipped a beat as your face lit up with a wide smile. The night was still young and there was plenty of time for you and Wooyoung to enjoy it together.

[me-and-your-husband]

if you lie down with me || e.w.

summary: there's one thing you and ellie don't have in common: immunity.

warnings: not beta read, swearing, blood, canon typical violence, death by suicide, ellie has concerning ideations, smut, oral, scissoring, multiple orgasms, angst!, crying during sex, arguing, probably more

word count: 6k

a/n: i know, i'm sorry for using this photo 😭 actually i'm sorry i wrote this entire thing

The end never feels like the end, does it? When you wake in the morning, the air is as fresh as the day before and the sun streams through the window at the same angle. You smile fondly at the incessant banging on your door, and at her urging tone when she tells you to get out of bed. “We have patrol,” she says, like she's said a thousand times before. What makes today any different? 

The gravel road feels the same as it crunches under your boots as she leads you to the gate. Her auburn hair shines the same in the light, the same way you've admired since you were fourteen and she had just settled in Jackson. 

You were helping out in the library, arms full of books stacked above your head. You struggled trying to keep them up with one hand and shelve them with the other. She noticed you from the corner, where she sat with a pile of beaten comics and a Walkman. “Need some help?” she asked, standing up from her spot on the ground. She took half the books from your pile and put them wherever you told her. After, when you asked her about the comics she was reading, her face lit up and she knew that you'd be a part of her life until death. Finally, someone was interested in knowing her. 

The friendly faces of the watchmen at the gate were the same as they were yesterday, a week ago, a month ago, a year. They waved at you and wished you good luck as you mounted your horse and rode alongside Ellie onto the trail. The way she shoved her pistol in her back pocket and slung her bow over her shoulders was always the same. The way your horse galloped evenly alongside Shimmer did not deviate from the norm. 

When she spoke up, her words were usual. 

“Look, babe. A hummingbird,” she said with glee, pointing to the frosty trees.

You smiled at her excitement. “Poor thing, it's so cold out.”

“Don't you remember?”

“Of course I remember, El,” you laughed. “How could I forget?”

How could you forget? It was a humid summer afternoon, shortly after Ellie had turned sixteen. You had snuck out of Jackson to explore a creek you had found the day prior on group patrol. You so badly wanted to show Ellie, to share every part of you with her. You didn't know what to call it, but you assumed it was just because you were really good friends. 

The soft rush of the water and the gentle breeze across your skin contrasted to the beating sun plastering your hair to your skin. You and Ellie sat with your backs against a wide oak, watching minnows skip through the water. 

“Do you think animals have feelings? Like us?” Ellie thought out loud. 

You hummed, “I do, but not as complicated as ours.” 

She nodded in agreement before her eyes drifted to the source of a new sound, a gentle humming. She saw the gentle bird sucking nectar from a flower, tapping your shoulder gently and pointing. 

“Look, a hummingbird,” she whispered.

“Woah!” You beamed, “I’ve only seen them in those nature books in the library. That's so cool. Did you know the sound actually comes from its wings?” 

As you watched the hummingbird, she watched you. “It’s really pretty.”

You agreed. She said your name, but looked away from you. 

“Yeah?”

“I think I like girls.”

You let the words settle in the air. 

“I think I do too.”

It was the first indication that something else could happen between you and her, something less platonic than you would've thought. After that, neither of you said anything about it, confident in the fact that something more could exist in the spaces between. 

It was the same confidence you had today as you followed her through the Wyoming woods, putting your trust in her. You took the same path almost every time you went out on patrol, knowing your way around, knowing the landmarks of the area. You knew you were getting close to the danger zone when you saw your favourite tree, the one you and Ellie would lean against by the creek, telling each other secrets into the night, crossing your heart to never tell another soul. Each of you knew that the other’s soul was the only one that mattered, anyways. 

It was just over a year ago that you’d both carved your initials into that tree, reminders of that early morning on patrol bringing a smile to your face. 

You had stopped for a moment to take a short break against the tree, letting your horses get some rest. Ellie leaned up against the tree as you pet Shimmer. The sun shone despite the snow and the brisk weather, illuminating your features gently. She admired the curve of your lips and the shape of your eyes, imagining her fingers tracing your skin under lamplight late at night. You looked up at her when your name tumbled from her lips. 

“Yeah?” You said, continuing to pet Shimmer.

“I like you.”

The air stilled and your hand faltered, breath hitching. But what if she didn’t mean it like that? 

You forced a laugh. “Well, I’d hope so. We’ve been friends for how long?”

“No, I…” she struggled for the right words. “I want to be more than friends. I like you. Like…romantically. And stuff.”

She played with her fingers, shuffling her feet back and forth in the snow, not meeting your gaze. 

“Ellie, look at me. Please,” you whispered. She raised her eyes to yours, but still kept her head low, not bringing it up until your hand cupped her jaw. She moved her hand on top of yours, trapping it there, wondering if it was just a dream. 

She closed her eyes tight when she saw you leaning in, praying that you weren't messing with her. When she finally felt your lips ghosting across hers, she leaned into you. Your touch was fire on her skin, leaving a red blush in its wake. She pressed your mouth to hers hungrily, never wanting this to end. 

“I like you too,” you mumbled against her lips. 

When you finally broke for air, chests heaving, you were both beaming. Ellie nervously reached into her pocket for her pocket knife, flicking it open. She held the blade against the bark of the tree, grabbing our hand and putting it on the hilt, sliding hers over top of it. 

She guided your hand as you carved your initials into the tree, trapping them inside of a heart. It was cliche, but it meant everything to you. 

It was the same tree that, a year later, you and Ellie passed on almost every patrol. The same tree that symbolized your everlasting love for each other. The same tree that stood since the dawn of your and Ellie’s time. 

You rode casually in comfortable silence until you got to the watchtower, negative memories plaguing both you and Ellie. The floorboards still held the echoes of your voices yelling, still soaked in your tears. 

Four months ago, when the rabbits were still brown and the path was clear of snow, you'd come through this watchtower to find two clickers. It caught you both off guard, as Jesse and Dina had just cleared it as safe the day before. 

Ellie, always being the hero, snuck up behind one, taking it out easily, and lunged at the other. The second one, however, pinned her to the ground, and she held it by the neck, its arms clawing hers. 

The sound of your pistol rang out as the body slumped on top of Ellie. She rolled it off and got up from the ground, chest heaving. 

“Well,” she said, brushing dirt from her jeans, “that was pretty close. Thanks.”

When you didn't respond, she turned to see you standing with your pistol still in both hands, brows furrowed as you watched the dead body of the clicker intently. She called your name. 

“What is it?”

You shook your head. 

“Come on, tell me-”

“Every fucking time, Ellie,” you said, shoving your pistol back in your pocket and turning away from her. “Why do you have to run head-first into danger like that every time?”

She didn't say anything, gaze on your back as she watched you turn back around. 

“What would I have done if you had gotten bit?” You said, voice a little watery. “Say something.”

She stumbled over her words, not knowing what to say. “I don't try to, you know, it’s just…” she sighed.

“You know, Ellie, sometimes I think that I value your life more than you do.”

The words hung in the air between you two, both of you knowing that you were right. Knowing that she could've been more, done so much more, saved so many people. But she was stripped of that. So what kind of meaning could she give to her life? What did she really have to live for? Before Joel, she never really had someone she knew would care if she died. Now she had you, and she didn't know how her recklessness would affect you. Now she did. 

“Okay, you're right. I’m too reckless. I’m sorry. I promise I’ll start thinking before I react,” she said, voice softening. 

You huffed, “I just worry about you, El. I don't know what I’d do without you.”

She hugged you tight, letting you nuzzle into her chest. She knew how you felt. Before you, she was hopeless. She didn't see a point in doing anything if her life couldn't be used by someone. What was it all for? Everything she'd struggled through? All she'd suffered? 

Now she knew that she was forced to experience it all so that she could end up with you. And she’d do it a million times over. 

She breathed your name. “I need to tell you something.”

You pulled away from her, “Well that's one way to start a conversation.”

She laughed nervously. “No, it's nothing bad. It's just…it might be hard to swallow.”

She gestured at an old, ratty chair. You sat and watched her intently. 

She took a deep breath, drawing it into her lungs and releasing it. “Do you remember why I got my tattoo?”

“Yeah, to cover up that chemical burn.”

“I lied,” she said. “That's not why I got the tattoo.”

You furrowed your brows in confusion, silently begging her to go on. 

“When I was fourteen, I was bitten. On my arm.”

You sat back in your chair. 

“I waited and waited for my mind to go, for my body to go, for anything to happen, but it never did. So…I’m immune, or whatever,” she said, searching for a reaction. 

Seconds of silence passed. It was shattered with a laugh.

“That's a good one, Ellie. Real funny.”

“It’s true! Ask Joel. Tommy. Maria. They're the only ones who know…”

“And you expect me to believe this?”

“Just trust me. Please. It's all I ask, is for you to trust my word. Why would I lie to you about this?” She pleaded. 

“Why didn't you tell me before?”

“Because Joel thinks it's dangerous for people to know. That's how we met, you know. He was hired to get me to the fireflies…they were going to make a cure,” she said, voice trailing off towards the end. 

“It didn't work, I take it?”

She shook her head. “Joel says they didn't need me.” Joel says. 

“Okay,” you said, making her look up at you. “I believe you. But that doesn't mean I’m fine with you running head-first into infected like that again. Just because you're…immune, doesn't mean you can't be torn apart. Got it?”

“Got it,” she said, crouching in front of you and putting her hands on your thighs. “God, I love you.”

You cleared out the watchtower and made your way back to the path. This part was one of your favourites, winding through the mountains. Your horses trotted casually beside each other. 

“Okay, okay, here's one: What do you say when a chef dies?” 

“Oh god, I don't know?”

“He pasta-way!” She said, giggling before she could even say the answer. 

Her laughter was contagious, sending it bubbling through your chest. “That's so bad that it's good.”

“Come on, just admit that I’m a top-notch comedian. If the world wouldn't have ended, I’d’ve been up there with Dave Chapelle.”

“Who’s Dave Chapelle?”

“I don't actually know. Some old ass comedian Joel told me about.”

You both laughed, smiles painted across your faces. However, the giggles subsided as you felt your horse start to shake slightly. 

“Woah, Shimmer, you okay girl?” Ellie said, patting her side. 

“Beau’s shaking too.”

“Maybe they’ve got…I don't know, a cold or something? Can horses even get colds?” You shrugged. “Maybe we should let them rest for a bit.”

You agreed, dismounting your horse and planting your feet on the ground. The shaking underneath you didn’t stop. You looked at Ellie, who looked at the mountain behind you. She yelled your name as you looked behind you.

A loud, grating noise sounded as you watched the earth of the mountain loosen from its side, rocks and boulders tumbling from it, falling in your direction. 

You hurriedly mounted your horses again, kicking their ribs to get them to go. You rode as fast as you could, attempting to beat the oncoming landslide. You'd never seen one before, only heard stories and read of them in books. You were about three quarters of the way through the mountain range when the land detached from the mountain and began to slide. 

“Go, go, go!” You yelled, Ellie a few feet ahead of you as her horse was younger than Beau. She glanced behind her every few seconds to make sure you were still there. 

The rocks falling created a settlement of dust around you, making it increasingly harder to breathe. You finally saw the green clearing outside of the mountain range. Almost there. 

The grating noise died, and you peered behind you to see the path completely covered in rubble. A few boulders still tumbled from the mountain, or whatever was left of it. 

“Watch out!” Ellie yelled. You looked to your right, seeing a massive boulder rolling down the mountain, coming right for you. 

You acted before you could think, much like Ellie, and propelled yourself forward off your horse as the boulder hit Beau and rolled atop of his body. You landed on the ground near Ellie, propping yourself up on your elbows to gawk at the sight. 

“Oh my god,” you whispered, running to Beau. His body was mangled, bones sticking out of the skin and blood painting the grass. You felt like vomiting. 

Ellie dismounted her horse, still shaking from the adrenaline, and put her hands on your shoulders, attempting to get you standing. 

“Wait,” you said, leaning back down, planting a teary kiss on Beau's muzzle. 

You stood, holding her tight. “Let's never come through here again.”

“Don't think we can, sweetheart,” she said, looking back at the obstruction. “Come on, we've gotta find a new way back home.”

She was about to help you mount Shimmer when you both froze in your tracks. A low, husky groan rung out through the air, scaring Shimmer. She ran into the clearing out of fright. 

“Shit,” Ellie breathed. 

“We’ll find her later. Come on, we have to go. It's either a bloater or a shambler, and I don't really want to stick around to find out.” 

You turned to leave when the ground shook again. You turned around, looking back at the mountain. It wasn't the mountain shaking this time. Spewing through the hole the landslide left like spiders were hundreds—if not thousands—of infected. Clickers, runners, stalkers, bloaters, shamblers. Everything. 

There was no way you were making it out of this unless you legged it now. 

In unison, you and Ellie started sprinting to your last checkpoint— the old cabin. You ran faster than you ever had before, the sounds of hungry infected hot on your heels. You couldn't feel your legs, the burning in your flesh too intense. When the cabin finally came into view, you couldn't even allow yourself a breath of relief. You and Ellie had your guns out, shooting behind you as you ran, picking off as many infected as you could. When you were close enough to the cabin, the idea hit you. You knew that the creaky boards of the cabin wouldn't hold that many infected off. You knew what you had to do. 

“Ellie, cover me!” You yelled as you slung your backpack off your shoulder and grabbed what you'd need. You grabbed an old bottle of whiskey you and Ellie had found at the watchtower and a rag. Stuffing the rag in the bottle, you lit it with your lighter. 

In the ten seconds it took you to do this, the infected crept closer and closer to you. Ellie tried picking off as many as she could, keeping them away from you. Until her magazine ran out. 

You threw the molotov in front of the hoard of infected. It exploded, creating a wall of fire between you and your death. 

Until a single clicker went at you from the side. The light of the fire flickered in your irises and cast an orange glow across your face, and you didn't even hear it creeping up amidst the roar of the flames. You didn't even hear Ellie yell your name. 

It tackled you to the ground before you could even turn your head all the way, talons scratching your arms and legs, sinking into your stomach. Its jaw was inches away from your neck, begging to gnaw on your jugular. In the struggle for your life, you couldn't even tell where you were and weren't hurt, what was bleeding and what wasn't. 

Blood gushed into your hair and eyes as you watched Ellie slice its head clean off with her pocketknife. The same one you'd carved your initials into that old oak with. 

Something inside of you rattled knowing that something could be used so innocently and yet so dangerously. 

Ellie picked you up from the ground and helped you limp into the cabin, reeds of grass tickling your wounds. When you entered, you stood in the centre of the room as she barricaded the entrances. 

“There,” she said, returning to you. You were both coming off adrenaline, suddenly feeling the ache in your bones to an indescribable extent. 

You put your hands on your knees and leaned on them, heaving a little. “Ellie. We were so close.”

She just nodded in understanding. Her eyes survey you from top to bottom. You had a scratch across your cheek, a few minor lacerations across your arms and chest, and a few on your legs. She couldn't see any bites. 

You brought your right arm up to run it shakily through your hair. That's when she saw it, brutal and bloody, painted into your skin like a brand. One that would decide your fate. Except that it had already been decided. 

The sight of the bite on your forearm turned her stomach. She blinked over and over again, hoping that she was seeing wrong. Maybe she was still coming off of adrenaline. “Your arm…” she breathed. 

“What?” You asked, confused. You looked over your left, then your right, and…oh. “Oh.”

The silence was deafening. It wasn't like you'd been badly injured, still with a sliver of possibility for recovery. No, this bite sealed your fate. 

In the next day, you were going to become something Ellie had to detest. Something she had to kill. 

You felt the bile rise in your throat just in time to grab a decayed flower pot. You choked out everything in your stomach and more.

Ellie grabbed her stomach as she felt her body start to shake, that feeling creeping up her spine again. Her breath felt like it was being siphoned out of her. She needed air, but her lungs would not take any in. She hyperventilated as she threw herself back against the wall, legs giving out. 

A sweat broke out across her body, knowing that she's losing you tonight. 

Her mind shoved memories into her vision that she swore to never bring up again. 

“There're a million ways we should've died before today. And a million ways we can die before tomorrow. But we fight…for every second we get to spend with each other. Whether it's two minutes…or two days. We don't give that up.”

She remembers the small, impossible slice of hope in Riley’s eyes, one that she knew was futile. Riley was her first love. She thought they were both going to die. She felt…horrible. You would be her last love, though she knew only you were fated to die. She knew she would die too. 

Your voice calling her name broke her out of her fit. One look at you wiping your face and shaking was enough to make her want to break something, anything. 

“Ellie,” you called. She stood and began pacing, running her hands over her face. “Ellie, stop it.”

“There's gotta be…there has to…we need…” she babbled, still pacing. An idea clicked, “give me your arm.”

You held out your shaking arm to your lover, expecting her to inspect the area. Instead, she took out her pocket knife and pressed the blade into her hand without any hesitation. 

“Ellie! What the fuck?!” You said, trying to stop her hand from bleeding. 

“Give me your arm,” she said firmly, a major contrast from before. When you hesitated, her hard gaze met yours. Her eyes softened when she saw the fear in your eyes. “Please,” she whispered. 

You gave her your arm and let her rub her blood into the bite. 

She took your arm and rubbed the blood into the bite knowing it wouldn’t work. 

It wouldn't work on you. 

She knew that. 

She tried anyway.

As she massaged the blood as deep into the wound as she could get, all she could think about was that she would've been able to save you if they made the cure. Her life would've had meaning, so much meaning. She would've been able to cure you from this. But she was helpless, cursed to watch you suffer. 

“Ellie,” you said, putting your hand atop hers to get her to stop and look at you. She could see in your eyes that you just needed to be close to her in that moment. She needed it too, needed to be impossibly closer as to grip into you forever. 

She buried her head into your neck and you did the same, holding your breath. For if you breathed, time would pass. If time passed, you'd be gone. 

You don't know how long you held each other like that, but it was long enough that your legs nearly collapsed with exhaustion. You were the first to speak. 

“I need you to promise me something,” you whispered. 

Ellie knew what you were going to say before the words left your mouth. 

“No-” she began pulling away from you, but you squeezed her tighter. 

“When it starts to happen…when I can feel it, I’m going to take my gun-”

“Stop it-”

“-and I’m going to go outside. You’ll know it's over-”

“-Stop-”

“-when you hear it. Just promise me you won't look.”

“Stop, please,” she begs, tears brimming in her eyes again. She takes a step back from you and turns around. 

“Promise me.”

The words get caught in her throat. Her lip trembles. “Okay.”

Outside, rain starts to fall softly, tapping against the rotting wood of the cabin. 

She breaks the new silence. “I should've been there. I should've taken my rifle out, anything-”

“El, it's not your fault. Look at me,” you say. She looks at you over her shoulder. You nearly crumble at her red eyes and wet cheeks. “Never blame yourself. You hear me?”

She just squeezes her eyes shut, willing for this to all go away. 

You walk to her, putting your hands on her shoulders and leaning your forehead against her back. You tried not to look at the bite. 

“Ellie.”

“Yeah.”

“Will you give me one last good night?”

The soft pattering of the rain against the wood, trickling off the roof and into the ground. 

“Please?”

She says nothing, instead turning around and gently capturing your lips in a kiss. Your bloodied hands find her wet cheeks, noting that the tears haven't stopped. 

Ellie wanted to give you everything you wanted and more, and she had sworn she would from the moment she met you. If this was the last thing you ever asked from her, she would give it to you. 

But it was so unbelievably hard knowing that this time would be your last. 

She pushed you back against the wall, nearly devouring you. The salty mix of your tears and hers slipped into the kiss, but you didn't care. She moved her hand down to cup you where you wanted her.

You bucked your hips into the friction, already needing her. You began to undo your belt, but Ellie’s hand on your wrist stopped you. 

“Are you sure this is what you want?” She said, voice gravelly. 

“Yes, El,” you said. “I don't know where I’ll be tomorrow, or…what I’ll be,” she let out a shaky breath, “but I know I want to be with you right now.”

She sniffled and nodded, getting on her knees to take your belt off. She threw it to the side, unbuttoning your jeans, sliding them down along with your panties. You opened your legs wider for her.

She ran two fingers through your slit before sinking one into your hole, tongue giving kitten licks to your folds. 

You could tell that she wasn't going to be as vocal as usual. 

You couldn't really blame her. 

You whimpered as she added another finger, pumping them in and out of you, filling the air with obscene sounds. She lapped at your cunt, trying her hardest to give you what you want. 

“Ellie, don't stop,” you moaned, whimpering when she used her other arm to hold your hips down against the wall. “Almost there.”

You could feel the coil tightening inside if you quickly, your climax coming in record time. You thought for a moment that it was because of how sensitive you were in this moment. 

You moaned wantonly and grabbed her hair as you came, her tongue working on your clit and her fingers scissoring you open. 

You expected her to stop, but she kept going. In fact, she added a third finger. 

You heard her moan into your pussy, looking down to find her grinding into the floor, a wet spot forming on her jeans. She was so messy, your juices coating her face, red-rimmed eyes and messy hair, rutting into nothing and moaning into your cunt. 

When the fabric of her jeans caught her clit just right, she took her mouth of your pussy, replacing it with her thumb instead, and leaned her forehead against your stomach. You came with her from the sensitivity, both of your moans filling the air, pleading for more. 

When she laid you down on a thin blanket from her backpack and undressed both of you, you noted the scared look in her eyes. The way she looked at you, drinking you in, knowing this would be your last time together. Some part of you wished that neither of you knew about the bite, that you didn't have to treat this so differently. That you could enjoy it. Enjoy your last moments together.

She threw her leg over yours, kissing you messily, yet softly, as she ground into you, folds slotting against each other. You both moaned each time your clits touched. 

As she grew closer to her climax, she buried her face into your neck. You tried to ignore the feeling of her tears trickling down and pooling at your nape. 

You came together. You moaned, but she cried out, more guttural than you'd ever heard from her. 

“I love you, I love you, I love you—!” she cried into your neck as she came. 

When you slowed down, she held you like that without words. 

“I love you too, Ellie,” you whispered, just loud enough for her to hear over the rain. 

You held each other as the sun set, through the night, and through the rain. 

The golden rays of the sun shone through the cracks in the walls and shudders, dancing across her bare body pressed into your side. Hours ago, her body had stopped shaking and her tears stopped spilling onto your chest, your hands running patterns across her skin lulling her into an exhausted sleep. 

Your eyes had never closed, however. You knew you wanted to be awake to feel it happening, to know when you were losing control over your body. For Ellie’s sake. 

The rain had stopped and the clouds were cleared. Birds sang outside and all the animals went about their day. You thought it strange that the world would continue on without you, that people will age and new ones will be born, that people will die and people will forget about you in time. Your impermanence had never struck you as hard as it did now. 

You felt the twitching in your feet first, unnoticeable at first, but is it crawled up your limbs, you knew it was happening. It happened over three or four hours, and once you felt your neck jerk the first time, you knew. 

Your blood didn't feel like your own anymore, like someone exsanguinated it and replaced it with jelly, slowing you down. Your vision wasn't gone, but you couldn't focus it on anything. It constantly sounded like you were underwater, drowning, gasping for air to no avail. 

Your eyes hardly left the woman in your arms, clinging to you even in sleep. You know she'd curse herself for falling asleep, but you were thankful for it. You were thankful that you could press a tearful kiss to her forehead before gently escaping her grasp, muffling your sobs behind your hand. You threw your shirt and jeans on quietly, dizzy, slipping your shoes on. Your world spun, your lungs burned, your head throbbed. 

You picked up your pistol, watching Ellie stir slightly in her sleep, creamy skin illuminated in the sun, her freckled face creased slightly with worry, even in sleep. You put the gun in your pocket. 

You tried, as silently as you could, to move the barricade from the door. You were thankful that she was a heavy sleeper. 

You were thankful that you didn't have to see the despair in her eyes when you said a forceful goodbye, thankful that you didn't have to convince her to let you go, thankful that your last memory of her was this, thankful that her last memory of you was bliss. 

Through your sobs, you squeezed through the door and shut it behind you, leaning your head against it, willing for this all to be a nightmare. It wasn't, because you started to feel something else take over your will. 

Before you could lose it completely, you forced yourself into a dense brush of greenery, somewhere you hoped she wouldn't look. 

You panted, sweating, trembling, as you took the pistol out of your pocket. It shook with your hand as you held it to your temple, bright eyes taking in all of the world that you could before it was gone. 

You squeezed them tightly, willing yourself to stop shaking. You conjured the image of your lover in your mind, her auburn hair, milky skin, pretty green eyes, and those familiar freckles. How could you ever forget her?

You took a breath in, and breathed out: “I love you.”

Ellie sat up in terror when she heard the sound of a single gunshot ring through the air, seeping in through the cracks of the window and underneath the door. It took her a moment to process what it was, reaching for her pistol next to her discarded clothes. When her fingertips brushed the gun, it settled in. She craned her head to look beside her, half expecting you to still be asleep. 

When she remembered what the sound of the gunshot meant, what you had made her promise, her lungs collapsed and she couldn't take any air in. Tears spilled from her eyes as she heaved, clawing at her chest for any relief. It didn't come. 

She knew it never would.

When Joel got word that you and Ellie still hadn't returned from patrol, he worried that you'd gotten stuck in the landslide. He pleaded with Tommy and Jesse to go out with him to search, knowing he wouldn't be at peace without knowing what happened. 

When the two agreed, they set off on horses to clear all of the checkpoints. It took an extra day to get around the mountain range that was blocked off by rubble. 

When they only had one more checkpoint to clear, Joel got increasingly worried. If you weren't here, where were you?

When the three men got to the cabin, they held their breath as they dismounted their horses. Joel tried pushing the door open, but the barricade stopped him. It took the three of them to open the door, pushing the barricade out of the way. 

The open door shed light on the figure against the back wall covered in a thin blanket, trembling. Joel let out the breath he was holding in when he saw Ellie. She was clutching your backpack to her chest, trying to keep any remaining part of you alive, hers. 

She had hardly noticed Joel pick her up and carry her to his horse, wrapping the blanket tighter around her. She squeezed her eyes shut, not ready to see the world without you in it. 

“Ellie,” Joel’s gruff voice intruded her thoughts, “where is she?”

Ellie’s words failed her. All she could do was point to her forearm, to the bite that only Joel and Tommy knew hid underneath the tattoo. 

She doesn't remember what happened after that. 

It was warmer now, the flowers blossoming and the green coming back to Jackson’s landscape. Ellie sat facing your headstone, wishing you could've seen it. Wishing she could've shown it to you. 

“It’s summer now,” she began. “We started planting these new flowers in your garden…Joel thinks you would've liked them. I think so too. They're really colourful…you know.”

She hesitated.

“Sometimes I wonder if you can hear me. Or if I’m just talking to myself like a crazy person. Joel says it's good for me. I don't know if I believe him.”

She played with her hands, tracing her tattoo. 

“I wish you were still here,” she whispered. Her eyes drifted over all the flowers left by your grave from all the people who loved you. 

Her eyes filled with tears as she watched a pretty red hummingbird land on your grave, searching for pollen in the flowers.

ellie taglist:

@chrry1ovr @milly-louise @dankpunks @starhrtz @pedrobaby @urlocalgingersnap @wrendermedone @kissyslut @felsweb

permanent taglist:

@winters-fairy @idkwhattonamethisblogs

[mistywaves98]

Hi! I love your writing. I was wondering if I could request Wanderer with a sub afab reader with a degradation kink please 🙏. If not, feel free to ignore.

✧･ﾟ:* ->Wanderer x Fem! Reader

✧･ﾟ:* ->¡Warnings!: NSFW, Degradation, Modern AU, Phone sex, You call him Scara, Ending is bad, I wrote this while half asleep, Some praise, Fingering (yourself)!

✧･ﾟ:* ->Minor writing smut! DNI if uncomfy!

Your boyfriend was away on a business trip that was supposed to last a few weeks and while you didn't object at first, after the first week or so you had to admit that his absence was making you lonely.

That also meant you had to rely on yourself for pleasure but no amount of toys or your fingers could make yourself climax like he did. Hell, you couldn't even orgasm in the first place. By the end of the second week you were extremely pent up and frustrated. You missed everything about him, his face, his fingers, his voice, his cock...

It didn't take long for you to finally open his contact and press call. He answered almost instantaneously and you felt your heart flutter when you heard his soft voice through the device next to your ear.

"Hello?" "Scara, I miss you so much...you've been gone for so long!" He smiled at your longing tone full of indignation before replying, his voice holding a teasing lilt to it,"I miss you too, baby, even though it's only been two weeks—" "Two weeks is a very, very long time for you to be away!" You couldn't help but cut him off, scoffing as he merely laughed in amusement at your annoyance, finding it cute how badly you wanted him to be by your side again. "Alright alright, just hold on a little longer, I'll be home before you know it. In the meantime, tell me about your day."

And so he patiently listened to you ramble on about the things that happened while he was gone, occasionally throwing in a snide comment here and there. You took a deep breath as you finished, asking him about how things were on his end. As you listened to your boyfriend talk, you couldn't help but let your mind wander. Soon you completely lost track of the things he was saying, focusing on how smooth and sexy his voice sounded. The low rasp in his tone only made more blood rush to your cheeks as all the pent up feelings you surpressed made their way to the surface.

You bit your lip, rubbing your thighs together as arousal pooled between them. Your mind became clouded as you imagined him whispering the filthiest things right next to your ear in that same tone. One of your hands kept holding the phone as the other made it's way down your body, teasing the waistband of your pants before slipping in. You shuddered as your fingers made contact with your soaked pussy. When did you get so turned on...?

Carefully, you circled your thumb around your clit as your middle and ring finger prodded your leaking hole. Your teeth dug into your lower lip even harder as you slowly pushed them past your folds, resisting the urge clamp your thighs around your hand. Your hand that was holding your phone trembled as you struggled to hold back your moans. The sound of his voice only made you wetter as you pumped your digits in and out of yourself at a steady pace.

You were so caught up in your pleasure, that you didn't even realize Scaramouche had stopped talking. It wasn't until you heard him inquiring about your state that you snapped out of your blissed out state,"[Name]? Are you still there?" "O-oh! I'm fine, just...keep talking, please..." Needless to say, your boyfriend was a bit baffled by your request, but he complied anyway. The more he spoke, the closer you felt to finally reaching orgasm for the first time in weeks. Your fingers' pace quickened as you found it increasingly difficult to stay quiet.

Even moving the phone away from your ear a bit did not stop him from hearing the heavy pants and muffled whimpers in the background, which caused some suspicions to raise. "Are you sure everything's alright, [Name]?" "I-I told you, I'm fine! Keep talking...I'm almost there..." He wasn't stupid and that sentence told him everything he needed to know. A smug smile graced his features as he put and two together.

"I see how it is..." "Wh—" "I can here your slutty moans clearly. I didn't realize that my pretty little girlfriend was such a desperate whore, that she'd resort to fucking herself on her fingers to the sound of my voice. You really missed me that much, huh?" "..I did..." You could barely answer between your moans. God, hearing talk like that to you was so hot. You could feel yourself clenching tightly around your fingers. You were getting close... "It's okay. I bet you've missed my cock too, you wish I was there to fill your needy pussy with my cum, hm?" He continues to praise and degrade you over the phone in that sultry tone you love so much.

"I'm sure you haven't been able to make yourself cum once since I left. It's so adorable to see how you need merely the sound of my voice to get yourself off. You'd literally be hopeless without me. Now keep thrusting those fingers into that pretty pussy, I want you to cum hard around them," And so you did, sweet cries sounding from the speaker of his phone as you quicken your pace, eyes rolling back into your head from the pleasure. The way your moans' pitch heightened told him that you were teetering on the edge of orgasm, so he continued to coax you,"Just like that, gush all over those dainty fingers for me."

You didn't need to be told twice. Your moan of ecstasy echoed through the dark room as your juices coated your fingers, soaking through your clothes and dripping onto the sheets below. You rode out your high until your breathing evened out slightly and you pulled your soaked digits out of your tight cunt, making you miss the feeling of being stuffed. Your pussy clenched around nothing as you heard his low laugh on the other end of the line,"Oh, how I wish I was there to see your face contort into that whorish expression I love so much. I bet you still want more, right? My slut wants me to be there, fucking her dumb on my cock?" You nod your head enthusiastically as you answer even though he isn't even there to see, but you're just that eager.

"Of course a slutty bitch like you wants my cock, if I was there with you, I'd make you get on your knees and make you worship it all night while making you finger yourself so that I can watch for my own amusement." The image makes your head spin and you swear that your inner thighs became even more messy with slick. "You're so wet now, aren't you? Want me to grab your hair and use your throat like my personal fucktoy?"

Your only responses are either longing whines or quiet 'yes's as he dirty talks to you over the phone, making promises of fucking you nice and hard when he gets back to make up for his absence which only makes you even more impatient for his return. Eventually, he has to go so you reluctantly hang up the phone before getting up to clean up. After that, you curl up on the bed, hugging the pillow he always sleeps on as you drift off to sleep.

[hijackalx]

PARTY OF TWO +18

SUMMARY: You and Gale are looking for a reason to ditch your friends at the tavern— why not make that reason each other?

WORD COUNT: 4.3k

UNDER THE CUT: F!reader, thigh-riding, praise kink, p in v, vaginal fingering, mirror sex, bondage (mage hand), multiple orgasms, love hotel, somewhat switch-y gale

The bustling tavern is filled with the sounds of drunken chatter and the occasional song. You sympathize with the bartender, who struggles to keep up with the demands of slurring customers. You think they wouldn't need so many refills if half of their drinks didn't end up on the floor.

You glance around from your seat at the bar, gaze hopping through patrons. Karlach is on her ninth pint, Wyll captivates a crowd with a far-fetched tale, and Astarion has found a pretty, young thing to entertain himself with. They all carry smiles on their faces and rosy cheeks, something you haven't had the pleasure of seeing in quite some time.

You're glad your friends seem to be enjoying themselves— you know how badly they've been needing to. Their plates have been full recently, so it's nice to be able to settle down for some fun.

As for yourself... well, let's just say you were outvoted when it came to agreeing on what "fun" was. This place is a little chaotic for your tastes, and not to mention tart from all the dwarf sweat and beer. You try not to cringe at how every surface is sticky and how every song that's sung is just slightly off-key.

Amidst your grumbling, a familiar figure takes the open spot beside you, and by the look on his face, you realize you're not the only one who's fighting the urge to be a spoilsport.

Gale— the ambitious wizard from Waterdeep. You two don't speak much, meaning you've yet to break the barrier of "acquaintance". You've never really sat down with him for more than small talk, not even at camp. You will admit though, from what you've picked up about him through eavesdropping has left you somewhat curious.

You think now might be a good time to finally get to know each other better. Besides, it doesn't appear that anyone else is willing to bond over your distaste for such lively establishments.

Your gaze flickers his way, confident and gregarious. Although, the ice-breaker on your tongue melts away once you notice that he's already looking in your direction. There's a slight raise to one of his brows and a tug at the corner of his mouth.

"... Gale—!" You needlessly announce his presence before your voice dies out.

You're not sure what it is, but for some reason, you seem to have forgotten how to speak. Your mouth hangs slack, and your throat is too tight for any words to escape. Maybe his staring caught you off guard— or maybe you'd forgotten just how attractive he is until now.

He sends you a small, perturbed smile, and you instantly feel the responsibility to cease the silence between you. "Sorry," you apologize for your offbeat behavior, then make a gesture to the glass in front of you. "Guess that's a sign to slow down, isn't it?"

It's unclear whether he's laughing at you or with you when he replies, "One too many?"

Your attention gravitates toward his fingers wrapping around his glass, then shifts to the liquid inside as it meets his lips. The sip is quick before he finds your eyes again.

You hope your ogling is averted fast enough to remain inconspicuous. "Not enough to make being here worthwhile," you respond flatly.

He hums in agreement, bouncing his brows up once. "I'm not too keen on taverns myself."

You both watch as Karlach engages in an arm wrestling match with a half-orc man across the room, the audience surrounding them getting rowdier by the minute.

He turns back to you with a smile and a shrug. "I'm more fitted for gatherings of a lesser degree." He pauses, appearing thoughtful before adding, "A bit of one-on-one, if you will."

His last sentence piques your interest, and you scan him inquisitively to figure out if it means what you think it does. There's an air of playfulness to him as you meet his gaze once more, an inviting glimmer in the shadow of his brow.

It doesn't take a genius to know that was an attempt at flirting with you, and if you have any sense, you'll see where this can take you; it's not everyday you get to romp with a man who's allegedly bedded a goddess.

You feign coyness by taking a sip from your glass. "It seems we're both outliers in that respect," you say to him over the chanting invading the building— from it, you conclude the consensus is that Karlach will win the match.

"Observant," he remarks, leaning in your direction. There's a look of confidence on his face that is wholly endearing, not to mention flattering. "I know of a much better place for it. I was thinking about heading there now, actually."

Your brow cocks upward as if the proposition on his mind is hidden from you. "Oh?" you hum, your fingernails tapping at your glass absentmindedly. "... Are you meeting someone?" You ensure that your voice is sweet, yet harboring a hint of longing behind it.

"I suppose it's fortunate I'm not, since I was hoping I wouldn't have to go alone."

You return the grin he gives you, knowing and affirming. A buzz of anticipation blooms in your chest when he places a palm on your knee, beckoning an explosion of heat to the skin beneath it.

Drifting closer, he speaks as if only for the two of you to hear, "you wouldn't mind accompanying an old wizard, would you?" His words are like honey by your ear, smooth and tempting. It sends the slightest shiver down your spine.

He pulls away just enough to meet your eyes, watching, waiting. You pretend to think on it, but he doesn't appear to fall for it for a second. "Hmm... that doesn't seem like it'd be too out of my way."

The hand on your knee flexes into a squeeze, a pleased twinkle in his eye. "Lovely."

You sneak out the door together, allowing him to place a guiding hand at the small of your back. The touch is that of a gentleman's, yet you feel the slightest tremor bubbling its way to the surface now and then.

The tension only rises between you with teasing exchanges. After some playful coaxing, he admits how he'd had his eye on you since the night began— how long he'd been waiting to get you alone.

"What were you waiting for?" You question, intrigued. It's not like anyone was stopping him.

"Approaching someone as sightly as yourself takes the courage of a lion.” He shoots you a flirtatious grin, his stare shameless and unwavering. “As you can imagine, that’s not an easy amount to muster.”

"Courage?" You repeat with a laugh. He's taken aback when you impede his path, a scheming tug to your lips. You study him a moment before raising your hand to his cheek, tilting your head slightly.

With a half-lidded gaze, you follow your fingers as they begin to trace over his bearded jaw. "Do I make you nervous, Gale?" You smile ever so sweetly. Your fingertips travel from his jaw to his lips, just barely touching the soft skin; you feel his warm, uneven exhales against them.

As you slowly bring your mouth to meet his, he seems almost frozen. Though, just as your lips graze, he places a hand at the back of your neck and closes the distance himself.

The kiss is hungry— impatient. His palms slide down to your hips, pulling you flush against him. The warmth of his body meshes with yours, and the exchanging of your breaths is visible in the cool, night air. You seem to get lost in the embrace, forgetting that you're still on the street; as a result, the hand you have resting on his chest slithers down his torso, a finger slipping into his waistband.

He makes a humming noise and reluctantly pulls away, his grip securing around your wrist to steady it. "Let's not get too eager," he chuckles, though you can tell his arousal is getting the better of him. "We've almost reached our destination— wouldn't want to spoil the fun, now would we?"

You giggle a little bit at the implication of 'spoiling the fun', then allow him to link his arm with yours as you continue onward, your pulse still thrumming with adrenaline. "Will you tell me where we're going?" You nudge him, wondering just what his clever mind has in store for you.

"It's better as a surprise, if that's alright with you."

A surprise, you note, sporting a subtle expression of delight. If you're being honest, your first impression of Gale left much to be desired— you thought he was, for a lack of a better word, simple. But this night has proven you wrong so far, and you hope it'll continue to go that way.

And, much to your amusement, it does.

You stand outside of a two-story building, the cobblestone exterior lit with the flames of lanterns hanging from the balcony. Also placed in distance of the light is a sign that you recognize.

He didn't just take you to any old inn, but an inn specifically for lovers.

While walking to the room he purchased at the desk, he turns to look down at you on the stairs. "So? What do you think?" He says, a lilt to his tone that exposes how pleased he is with himself.

"Would it surprise you if I said I've never stayed here before?"

"You're joking!" His face contorts in an almost scandalized fashion, searching you for any signs of jest. "Well, I guess I'll have to be the one to help you get familiar then." He sends a reassuring wink in your direction, then continues to lead you down the second-floor hallway.

Upon reaching your room, he holds the door open for you, placing a palm on your lower back to direct you in. You're stunned as you enter; the decor is like nothing you've ever seen before— from the circular bed draped with curtains, the luxurious bath, and the decorated mirror anchored to the ceiling.

"This is..." your voice trails off, truly at a loss for words. After hearing the door shut and lock, a presence approaches you from behind. Promptly, you feel the gentle ghosting of lips on your neck.

You inhale sharply as his breath leaves goosebumps on your skin. Hands resting on your waist, he holds you in place as he leaves the softest, teasing kiss behind.

"I know this is ill-mannered of me..." he starts, his voice suddenly deep and gravelly by your ear. "But I cannot wait any longer. Please."

The subtle desperation in his tone makes you shiver. Your lips part as he begins to run his hands up your body, traveling their way along your torso. You let out a small whimper at how his large, calloused palms feel through the thin material of your dress, how warm and inviting they are— how you wish for them to touch your bare body instead.

"Is this still what you want?" The short hairs on his jaw brush your skin as he speaks, breaths hastening as if he's raring for the green light.

You're almost too distracted by how his fingers restlessly bunch up the fabric just below your chest to answer. "Y-yes." You place your hands over his, moving them up. They finally engulf your breasts, his thumbs running over the hardened nipples begging to be freed.

"Yes, what?"

You turn your head slightly to peer at him over your shoulder. "I want you to fuck me." A warmth surges through your cheeks as the sentence leaves your mouth, the vulgarity of it both humiliating and exciting.

He's been anticipating hearing those words all night— keyed up like a dog waiting to be thrown a bone. He places a palm on your jaw and angles you to kiss him; it's reminiscent of the one on the street, but this time he doesn't hold back. It's raw and unrestrained, his tongue meeting yours and his teeth tugging on your bottom lip.

He pulls away to direct your figure to the wall. The material is cold on your cheek as he pins you against it, caging you between his arms. Aching for his touch, you arch your back to press your ass into him. He shamelessly rubs his hard-on against you for friction, letting out a broken moan by your ear and causing your thighs to squeeze together.

His hand snakes beneath the hem of your dress, seeking the pulsing heat between your legs. You widen your stance to give him better access, jaw falling slack as he locates your needy clit through your panties. You grind into his fingertip, impatient with how he toys with you— he picks up a rhythm only to break it, then repeats.

You let out a sound of frustration, and his solution is to stick his thigh between the two of yours.

You quickly pick up on what he's suggesting. “Gale," you say testily, unamused with his games. You'd much rather he'd just fuck you already.

"I want to watch," his voice comes out pleadingly and defensive. He lets out a shuddering breath before he licks his lip and mutters, "please, just… humor me."

The neediness in his tone raises goosebumps on your skin. You throb in response, a new wave of heat gathering to your cunt. You've never considered such an act, but he's convinced you with just a simple sentence. Lowering your weight onto him, you feel how the slick clinging to your folds smears into your undergarment, leaking through to paint your inner thighs.

He groans as he watches you use his thigh to get off, his cock twitching at how you whimper when he flexes the muscle. One hand leaves the wall to settle on your hip, and he uses it to guide you in slow, circular motions, causing your eyes to flutter shut.

His hips buck once he sees the pleasure on your features, a shaky moan leaving his throat. "You look so beautiful like this," he says through ragged breaths of arousal, watching how your brows knead together and your lips separate. "Keep going."

You feel a knot form in your lower stomach as he begins to bounce his knee, sending vibrations to your clit. His tempo is steady and relentless, eliciting a familiar, overwhelming sensation that courses through your veins. "G-gale," you say in a panic, "I can't. I'm going to— I can't—!" You fight off your orgasm with everything you've got, trying not to succumb to the waves of pleasure he sends through you.

You squirm in his grasp, but he keeps you in place. "It's okay, you're okay," he assures you, though he sounds like he's lingering on the edge himself. As if his words are a cue, your eyes squeeze shut and you finish on his thigh. Flashes of white dance behind your eyelids as you moan his name, your body jerking as it tenses repeatedly.

"S-shit," he stutters, biting his lip at how you move against his cock. He seems to hold his breath until you're done, letting out a heavy sigh of relief after he's succeeded in not coming prematurely as well.

He grips your shoulder with one hand, his thumb moving in circles over your skin as you recollect yourself. You attempt to turn around after a moment, yet you find that the buzzing in your legs makes for difficult use.

"Need a lift?" He laughs a bit.

You nod at him, putting your arms around his neck. With his palms settling just below your ass, he lifts you in one swift motion, carrying you in the direction of the bed.

Just as he begins to lay you down, he kisses you again— slow and seductive this time, but somehow hungrier. Your back gently meets the mattress, the fluffy duvet moulding around your shape and encasing you like a cloud. Your mouths begrudgingly disconnect, and as you open your eyes, you're taken aback by the reflection of yourself behind his head.

He notices your surprise, though the way he's looking you up and down says he has more important things on his mind. His gaze is heavy and almost daydreamy as he speaks, "I wanted you to be able to see yourself." He sits up to remove his shirt, tossing it aside before reaching for the zipper of your dress. "I wanted you to see how gorgeous you look while I fuck you."

You arch your back to assist him in removing the garment, watching as he pulls it to the ends of your feet. All your body is exposed except for your cunt, which he seems to be saving for last.

You finally feel his touch on your skin, placing your hands over his as they make a map of your figure. You guide him to your tits, rolling your head back into the pillow as he begins to knead them. His eagerness elicits a perfect mixture of pleasure and pain, the pressure just enough to satiate you.

Your fingers card through his hair as he places sloppy, wet kisses on your neck. The strands fall haphazardly over his features as you knock them from their place. When he sits up, you note how much this look suits him— messy hair, pink lips, and a heaving chest.

Disrupting your ogling, your eyes glance down at the bulge in his pants. You let out an impatient whine, reaching for it. As your fingertips graze the material of his clothes, your wrists are promptly snatched and restrained to the bed.

It all happens so fast, you don't quite realize how he's got you pinned despite both of his hands resting on his thighs in front of you. With furrowed brows, your gaze flits up above your head; a blue, transparent hand holds your wrists down, limbless and airborne. You almost feel silly for not assuming a wizard would use magic— even at a time like this.

"Clever," you cock an eyebrow, sending him a playful grin.

If his face wasn't already flushed, it definitely is now. He seems to get a bit flustered by the praise, smiling back somewhat awkwardly. "I occasionally like to think so."

With that, he begins kissing down towards your navel, his palms running along the sides of your body as he does so. He uses a light, teasing touch, making your skin react with sensitivity. You writhe in the Mage Hand's grasp, at which he peeks upward with a prideful pull to the corner of his mouth.

Once he reaches just above your underwear, he lifts his head, resulting in your body yearning for the return of his warm breaths. His fingers slip beneath the elastic covering each hip, delicately and smoothly removing the article from your figure. His gaze is fixated on your cunt— how it glistens under the lantern light from the bedside table.

He groans involuntarily at the sight, dipping one of his fingers into your contracting hole. It slides in effortlessly, though your walls squeeze around him in excitement. "Oh, Gods..." he mutters to himself, adding a second finger. It fits snugly, and he separates them inside of you to test how tight you are.

You whine, need prevalent in your tone. "Gale—" you choke back a moan as he begins pumping in and out of you. His pace is slow and agonizing, brushing against your G-spot but lacking the right vigor. He seems to be too deep in his admiration, merely doing it for his own enjoyment. "Gale—" in a show of desperation and faltering patience, you use your feet to buck your hips off the bed. "—I need you. Now."

Your plea snaps him out of his trance. He stops altogether, instead becoming awestruck at the sight of your body teeming with desire as it tugs against its restraint. You pout when he removes his fingers, watching as he pops them into his mouth to clean them. His brows come together as he savors the taste, though he doesn't linger on it for long as he quickly begins fumbling with the waistband of his pants.

He pulls the material from his hips, slinging both that and his underwear to the floor. You watch with blown pupils as his cock springs free, wishing you could run your fingertips down the happy trail on his stomach all the way to his shaft.

Holding your stare, he uses his hand to give himself a few pumps, smearing the excess of precum over his sensitive head. His body jolts slightly from the sensitivity, a small moan bubbling up his throat.

With that, he lowers himself on top of you, and you readily spread your legs for him. His tip finally breaches your entrance, and you let out a sound of relief into his mouth as he kisses you. He starts out slow, but you're not sure if it's for your sake or his. A sharp breath is sucked through his teeth as he fully sheathes himself into your warmth, reveling in how your cunt tries to draw him in further.

"You're not making this easy, are you?" His words come out strained by your ear.

You laugh breathily in response. "Maybe that'll teach you not to be such a tease next time."

With a groan, he begins to move. The bed creaks under every thrust he makes, sending ripple after ripple of pleasure to your core. Lewd noises fill the room as he repeatedly delves into your wet hole, the squelching building with his rhythm. Your legs wrap around his back, trying with all your strength to pull him closer, closer, until you finally feel his base hit your opening.

His head moves to nuzzle against your shoulder, and the reflection of your entangled bodies on the ceiling is made visible to you. You watch his back flex with every movement, noting how he completely loses himself between your legs; every now and then you'll see the tendons in his hands bulge as he grips the sheets, or how he kisses your collarbone to cover up a moan.

In your infatuation, you remember him mentioning the mirror being there for you to watch yourself, not him. Your eyes flit back to your face, almost surprised by who's staring back at you— stray hairs decorate your features, your brows are kneaded together in ecstasy, and your puffy, swollen lips are parted to accommodate your ragged panting— you’ve never seen yourself look so out of sorts. In fact, something about it turns you on more.

Just look at what he's done to you, how he's made you unravel for him. He has you restrained to the bed like you're his whore, and you don't even fight it. He begins to fuck you faster, harder, chasing an orgasm, all the while you lie there and let him have his way with you.

The coils in the bed groan as he pounds into you, his grunts continuously more audible than the last. The muscles in his arms tense repeatedly, riddling his limbs with ridges of definition. His rhythm begins to stutter, the motion of his hips getting sloppy with need; there's a desperation to him that tells you he's close.

You arch your lower back so that each of his needy thrusts hits your G-spot, forcing a loud moan from your chest. The persistent stimulation has your core tightening and a pit forming in your stomach as you anticipate your high. You take in a few shallow breaths before throwing your head back, your second orgasm violently ripping through you. Your body squirms uncontrollably beneath him, digging your nails into your palms.

He has a front row seat to your symphony of pleasure, each mewl like heaven to his ears. "I love the sounds you make," he praises, wishing he had the blessing of hearing you like this more often.

As if hoping to draw out his climax now, your velvety walls spasm and tighten around him, pulling moan after moan from his lips. "I want you to cum," you whimper against his ear, your voice shaky from his relentless pace. "Cum for me. Please."

He falls apart under your coaxing. Letting out a choked sound of euphoria, he reluctantly pulls himself from you. You gasp at the sudden feeling of emptiness while he finishes onto your stomach, watching how he throws his head back and bucks his hips with each spurt of cum.

Layers of warm seed spread across your heaving abdomen. The magic binding your hands almost immediately breaks, turning into a cloud of blue that fizzles into nothing. Your aching wrists fall haphazardly to your sides, too exhausted from remaining in that position to move again.

After a moment of recuperation, he stumbles to his feet, grabbing a towel by the bath before soaking it with the warm water inside. When he returns, he sits on the side of the bed, gently and delicately wiping up the mess he'd left on you.

He looks so focused while he cleans, making sure the rag doesn't leave anything behind. You can't help fawning at his concentration, a soft smile finding its way onto your face. He glances up once before doing a double take, not expecting to find you staring. He laughs, albeit a little awkwardly.

He then picks up your tired wrists and massages them, leaving a small peck on each. You assume that's his way of 'kissing it better'.

Once he's done, he leaves the cloth in a damp wad on the nightstand. Flopping onto the bed with a hand supporting his head, he turns to look at you. "So… shall we do it in the bath next?"

[reidbae]

DAY 12: In For It — glove kink w/ semi-dom!spencer reid

KINKTOBER 2023: masterlist

summary: When an unexpected coworker causes you to develop a kink for gloves, you find yourself needing to take care of your dying urge as soon as possible. What you don't know, is that the same coworker finding you in the act will prove to be more pleasurable than you realize.

pairing: semi-dom!spencer reid x sub!fem!reader

warnings/mentions: mentions of blood/crime scene, implied age gap, use of y/n and sweet girl, obv glove kink and mention of latex, no lube is used which is prob unrealistic but ignore it, fingering, choking, vaginal sex, breeding kink, unprotected piv sex (no, no, and no), fondling and ass grabbing, lmk if i missed anything!

wc: 3.2k

a/n: sooo this was supposed to be semi-dom spencer but the sub in me failed miserably :,) and yes this is day 12 on day 15 shush i'm inconsistent

tags: @nalycandy @prettyboydrspencerreid @mega-kittyglitter-1

You were kneeling near the floor of the crime scene that you were at, with Spencer and Derek above you, discussing the scene around you.

You were on a case in a small town in Vermont regarding an unsub who was leaving very bloody scenes behind him. Needless to say, you and the team were getting your hands dirty.

Well, not literally.

Your gloved hand was pointing at what looked like scratch marks on the floor of the living room you were in, which you assumed to be signs of a struggle. You voiced this to the two men.

Derek, who was hovering over you, nodded his head in agreement with your idea. "Yeah, looks like it. This victim must've really given the unsub a hard time, then."

"Yeah, and he wasn't happy about that," you said pretty obviously, because it didn't really take a profiler to see that. "Hey, Spence, what do you...

...Think."

You cut yourself off as you looked up at your other coworker, Spencer Reid, who was pulling the same gloves you had on onto his own veiny hands. It took all of a few seconds for him to turn to you, raising an eyebrow at you.

Spencer was older than you, and you had always found him attractive. Who couldn't, really? Tall, handsome, brunette FBI profiler, and a nice personality to add to it.

He was flawless.

But you had never crossed that humongous line between being friends and being more. While it was nice to think about, you didn't think he could see you in that way, and you preferred to remain friends anyway for the sake of your relationship.

Which is what made the blood that rushed to your cheeks, and the feeling that ran down to your cunt, all the more confusing.

"What were you saying, Y/N?" asked Spencer as he tilted his head, looking down at you.

It didn't help that from where you were looking, you were almost at eye level with his belt.

Fuck.

"Oh, um, I was just wondering what you...Think? A- About the case? I mean, like, do you think there was a struggle?" you could barely stutter out, shaking your head at yourself. Spencer kneeled down next to you, examining the same marks you'd been looking at with his hands.

You watched as his gloves hands traced circles over the hard wood floor, then moved to nearby blood splotches on the ground.

You had never wanted so badly to be an inanimate object.

Spencer gave you a brief synopsis of what he believed. From what you could gather, he agreed with you and Derek, but you were struggling to listen to him as your eyes remained where they were.

You weren't sure how or when this newfound thing for gloves had developed, but it was driving you crazy. You had to clear your throat to snap yourself back into reality, getting up from the ground.

"We should get back to the station. I want to see if they got anything out of the fingerprint we found," said Derek, to which Spencer nodded in agreement.

When you didn't answer, eyes too fixated on Spencer's hands as the gloves came off of them, the genius spoke up. "Hey, Y/N, are you okay?" he asked in a worried voice.

The sound of your name on his lips tugged you back down to earth, and you looked up. "Huh? Wha—Yeah, I'm good. Let's go," you said nervously.

Spencer, still concerned, put a hand on the small of your back as you all walked out of the house you were in. Spencer had always been very protective of you, and you weren't quite sure why, but you liked to assume that it was because he was older than you, and felt the need to do so.

What you did know, though, was that it was not helping at all.

—

You all but leaped out of the car when the three of you got back to the police station, muttering some nonsense about paperwork and overtime as an excuse to Spencer and Derek.

When you finally got to the bathroom that you'd been longing to go to since earlier, you closed the door quickly behind you and gave a long, slow sigh.

Because the town you were in was so small, the station wasn't really the most up to date. The bathroom was tiny, leaving little to no space to walk around. Plus, it was unisex, and there was only one of them. It was probably hell on earth for the police officers who worked here on a daily basis.

But that was the least of your worries.

You leaned your hands on the sink of the bathroom and tried to slow yourself down, trying so hard to ignore the growing wetness between your legs as you closed your eyes.

And all for what? Spencer Reid's gloves? The one you'd seen him touch blood with so many times? The one you’d seen him touch blood with today?

Really?

But, God, you just couldn't deny it.

A flushed, rosy face looked back at you in the mirror, with you looking as if you had just seen a ghost. Your chest was heaving up and down at a rapid pace, your hair messy over your forehead.

There was only so much of this you could take.

It was a dumb idea. A terrible, terrible idea. But you figured, if you worked this sudden want for your coworker out now, you wouldn't have to stare it in the face ever again.

You shook your head for what you were about to do, but took a seat on the low counter, your back pressing onto the mirror behind you. Slowly, you undid your own belt, then yanked your work slacks down and out of the way.

You had to take a few seconds to really think about this before you went through with it. Could you really do this in a police station, the one coworker you'd always seen as no more than a friend on your mind?

Fuck.

Yeah, you could.

You closed your eyes and followed through, moving your hand down to your clit and rubbing yourself in slow circles at first. You began to think about Spencer and the way his blue gloves had fit so nicely on his hands earlier. God, it felt ridiculous just thinking about it.

But it was true.

A knock sounded on the door when you were just about to stick a finger inside of yourself, but the sound was so muffled, you couldn't quite process that you were being called.

"Y/N? Y/N, are you okay?"

You couldn't hear a thing over the sound of your own whines, way too far gone now to think about much else.

"I'm coming in there."

...

Now, you heard it.

You were too late in jolting your hand away from your body before Spencer's tall figure stood in the doorway, a concerned look over his face, that soon turned to one of surprise.

The view he was met with was one of your hand quickly moving away from your cunt, your undone belt and open slacks enough for anyone, let alone a genius, to figure out what the hell you'd just been doing.

While he hadn't gotten you in the act, the scene that was laid out in front of him was very much enough.

The door was already closed for the most part when Spencer walked in, and he shut it all the way so no one could see the two of you. His cheeks were red as his eyes roamed over your body, the man at a clear loss for words.

"Spencer, I—" you said with a face as hot as his, your eyes wide with fear. "I'm sorry—I was just—It's not what it looks like," you said dumbly, shaking your head at yourself.

"A- Are you sure, Y/N? Because, from where I am, what you were just doing is quite obvious," Spencer told you, crossing his arms as he did, like he was reprimanding a little kid. You sighed.

"I just needed to—Work it out before we got started with the case again. I'm sorry. I- I know it's unprofessional, and—" you began.

But he cut you off.

"It's fine, Y/N. You have needs," Spencer shrugged, like this was something people saw on a daily basis. "I was just a little, um—Surprised."

You let out a breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding and nodded, the heat never leaving your face. Spencer took a step closer to you, looking at you curiously.

"I have to ask, though," Spencer chuckled, looking you up and down. You nearly missed it when he did, too bewildered by the fact that he could laugh at what was happening. "Why the sudden urge?"

You tilted your head, looking away from him and then back again, unsure of what to say. When you didn't answer, Spencer went on.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I'm just curious," Spencer said.

You took a very long pause before opening your mouth to speak again, cursing yourself for the words that were about to leave it. "Uh, well—I just—It's kind of dumb, and it's going to sound really weird, b- but, um," you were stuttering as you played with your hair, sighing. "Yourgloves."

Your words came out so jumbled that Spencer raised an eyebrow at you, giving you a confused look. You weren't sure if he hadn't heard you, or if he had, and he was just weirded out. "What did you say?" Spencer asked.

Turns out, it was the former.

"Y- Your gloves," you told him more clearly, looking away from him. "I don't know. I saw you with them earlier at the crime scene, and—Well, I know we're just friends and stuff but—God, I just don't know," you said in annoyance of yourself. Even you had no idea where this sudden need was really coming from.

"I don't know," you said again. "I just like the way they look on your hands, okay?"

Spencer took a second to think and consider your words. Then, instead of walking out of the room, or giving you a look, or calling you a mean name, Spencer just laughed again. He laughed. At you.

He seriously found this funny?

Spencer reached into the pocket of his work slacks, and pulled out the very thing that had caused you to be so worked up in the first place. The pair of blue gloves that he now had in his hand couldn't be the same pair he had used earlier, because these ones weren't covered in blood.

"These, Y/N? This is what's got you so worked up?" Spencer asked in a nearly teasing voice, smirking at you as he walked even closer to you. You furrowed your brow.

"Maybe," you said, a bratty tone behind your voice. You refused to look at him, turning your face away from him. But out of the corner of your eye, you could see Spencer putting the gloves onto his hands.

You knew you were in for it now.

Spencer tilted your chin up to meet his eyes, bottom lip in his teeth as his eyes moved down to your lips. "Most kinks are easy to develop, in case you didn't know. They usually develop when a specific stimulus is paired with sexual notions or behavior."

"Meaning, for one, that you don't need to be so shy about this. And, two, I don't have to understand it fully to please you. So," he said in a low voice, leaning in, so that your faces were mere inches away from each other. "Tell me where you want my hands, Y/N."

You were way too dumbfounded to process all of what he was saying to you. Your breath was heavy, and before you even knew it, you moved one of his gloved hands to your neck, and the other to the hem of your slacks.

Spencer nodded, and, without even a word more, pressed his lips to yours. Before touching you, he grabbed you by the ass and pulled him in closer to you, so that he was standing in the middle of your legs.

Your tongues were all over each other in your kiss as Spencer began squeezing your neck, clearly attempting to gauge how hard you wanted him to go. His gentle hold was cute: But you needed more.

You pulled away from him for just a second to whisper, "Harder. Please," in the neediest voice you had ever put on. Spencer chuckled at you again, obliging as soon as you had asked, and roughened his hold on your neck.

Now, you were happy.

If it weren't for the fact that you were already soaking wet, the latex of the glove may not have felt good, or even let Spencer's finger slip past your throbbing cunt at all. But you were happily surprised to find that his finger went inside of you with ease, causing you to moan out.

"Shhh, sweet girl, none of that," said Spencer in a teasing tone of voice, moving his hand from your neck to cover your mouth. "We wouldn't want anyone else to hear us, would we?" he asked.

You shook your head, cheeks flushed with heat, and that was enough for Spencer. His gloved hand closed around your neck again while he pumped his finger in and out of you at a quick pace.

While having a glove kink was more like a fantasy before all of this, you couldn't believe how good it really made you feel. The rough latex on your cunt provided you with a sort of friction that you had never been able to get when touching yourself in the past, and it was beyond what you were looking for.

"Is this what you wanted?" Spencer asked in a caring voice, bringing his hand to cup your cheek as he fingered you all at once. "Or is there something else I can do for you?"

"A- Ah, Spencer," you moaned out, feeling dizzy with bliss as you answered him. "Please, I just—I think I'm going to need a little more than your fingers," you whined.

Spencer didn't waste a second more and picked you up, holding you gently in his arms. You wrapped your legs around his torso for a beat, and quickly missed the feeling as soon as he put you down to your feet.

Spencer softly pushed your head down and bent you over the bathroom counter, so that you were looking directly at yourself in the mirror. You could hear the sound of Spencer's belt unbuckling from behind, and watched through the mirror as he allowed it to clatter to the ground.

"Spencer—" you said in surprise, mostly of how willing he seemed to do all of this for you.

Maybe you hadn't been the only one keeping your feelings pent up after all.

"What is it, Y/N?" Spencer asked. You were about to answer, when he then took his throbbing cock out from his boxers, giving you a front row view of how hard he was. You shook your head, mumbling to him to forget it.

Spencer pumped himself up and down a few times, and the view was goddamn mesmerizing as he groaned behind you, releasing drops of pre-cum onto your ass. You watched in anticipation, eyes looking at him with a hungry desire to feel him inside of you.

Spencer guided his tip to your aching cunt, then slowly pushed himself inside of you. Already knowing what your response to this would be, he covered your mouth, quickly stopping a moan from leaving your lips.

His other hand gripped your ass again as he moved into you at a pace that was somehow soft and rough at the same time. And then, when he was sure you would keep yourself quiet, he moved his hand back to your throat again.

"Does that feel good, sweet girl?" Spencer cooed, brushing your hair out of your face. You nodded in a little bit of embarrassment at the manner in which this scenario was unfolding.

"Y- Yes. You feel so good, Spencer. You're...So big," you admitted to him, shutting your eyes closed. Spencer's smirking reflection looked back at yours.

"I'm glad you think so," Spencer chuckled, hardening his grip on your bottom as he moved into you, now going at a slower pace. You whimpered at the sudden change of speed, causing Spencer to say, "What, Y/N? What is it?"

"I...Can you go faster? Please?" you croaked.

Spencer pressed a few kisses to the back of your neck and nodded, smirking. "As you wish," he obliged, quickening his pace once more.

"Look at you, sweet girl. All fucked out for me," Spencer whispered, moving you by your hair, so you could gaze at yourself in the mirror. "I'm going to have your legs shaking by the time I'm done with you," he rasped.

Like that wasn't already true.

Spencer pulled you towards him so that your back was flush against his front, and he took each of your tits into his gloved hands as he continued to fuck you. His thumbs ran circles over your hardened nipples as he fondled you, causing a series of broken, whiny moans to leave your lips.

At this point, neither of you gave much of a damn about who heard you.

Spencer could feel your cunt tensing around him, and he knew then and there that you were close. One of his hands roamed down your body, over your chest and stomach, before finding your aching clit and rubbing it the same way he had your nipples.

Once again, that feeling of the latex drove you wild. You felt your climax bubbling up inside of you, threatening to spill over at any given second. "Spencer, please, fuck, I'm so close, I'm so close," you muttered over and over again, biting down on your lip.

"I know, sweet girl, I know," Spencer cooed, pressing rough kisses to your neck. "Are you going to let me fill you up, Y/N?" Spencer asked, looking into your eyes now.

How could you do anything but nod?

"Y- Yes, Spencer. Please do. I want to feel all of you," you begged him.

"You will," he assured you, running his fingers through your hair. "I'm going to fill you up so good," he said. He then looked at you through the mirror, so he could watch you come undone. He finally moaned, "Come on, sweet girl. Come for me."

You didn't need much more than that.

You let yourself go, forced to look at Spencer through the mirror as he held your face in place. Your names left each other's mouths, each in a moan, causing Spencer to cover your mouth as you cried out in pleasure.

Spencer pressed butterfly kisses to your neck as you came down from your high, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as you came back down to earth. Holding you like you were the most fragile thing on the earth, he then kissed you on the mouth, soft and slowly so.

Spencer chuckled, and you turned your head to look at him, a small smile on your lips. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing," the genius laughed, nuzzling his nose with yours. "Just thinking..."

"...Maybe I should wear those gloves more often."

—

reblogs are very much appreciated <3

—

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—

[knockout-stan]

NSFW, size k!nk, fem human, no-named mech bc i'm a slut for too many of em but i had certain autobots in mind | minors dni

Imagine u and ur fav mech fucking for the first time, they're trying so hard to go slow but struggling because of how good your walls feels, squeezing and stretching all around him. He's trying to make sure you're not hurt while you're whining for more. He wants so badly to give in and give you instant gratification but he's putting your comfort above all else, his huge spike being swallowed by your body.

He can hardly find the strength to pull himself out to push back in. So his thrusts become a little quick, pushing in deep and slow, pulling out quick so he can feel more of you. He runs a cool metallic servo up your back, making you shiver from the contact. His voice calls out to you, with that small digital tone in it, "You doing okay?"

You nod, small tears of pleasure in your eyes. This was finally it. No more barely adequate thighfucking. You called out his designation, and added, "please keep going..." In a quiet yet frantic tone. It took all this mech's strength not to use you like a fleshlight then and there. He kissed your hand, dwarfed in size by his, to satiate the urge to use you. He knows you'd like to be used, but he likes having you safe and out of medbay. His hips are careful, but they find a rhythm. He holds your hip in one hand and the other clenching the corner of the berth underneath.

Being inside a human felt like pure heaven. Your juices coating his spike to take more of him in. He pushed deeper, and let out a soft grunt of satisfaction. He leaned back, looking at your nude body laying on his berth. This was unprecedented. Completely new territory between human and autobot. But it was already so addicting. His digits squeezed at your thigh, and felt the skin squish and slightly twitch in his grasp. He couldn't hold back the small smile forming on his face.

You whined, bringing him back out of thoughts, and reached your hands out to him. He knew you wanted him over you again. You enjoyed the feeling of being safe underneath him. And he enjoyed he made you feel safe. His hips find a steady rhythm fucking you, and he listens to your breathy noises underneath him. Neither of you had climaxed yet, but he knew he was gonna want to do this again soon.

[owlespresso]

Ais leans up to you real slow. One of his toned thighs nestles between yours. One of his big hands splays between your shoulder blades. His eyelids are low, his gaze lower as he leers at the minimal space between you.

His free hand settles on your lower tummy, thumb and pointer finger forming an L-shape. He looks contemplative. Sometimes, while he's sat at the bar, he settles into a long silence, gaze fixed on whatever concoction happens to grace his cup that very night. You don't know what haunts him then, and you struggle to understand what he's doing now.

It takes a second.

"Are you—" you splutter, cheeks hot with indignance and embarrassment both. "measuring me?" There's a tent in his trousers, which you accidentally stare at for a few, agonizing moments.

"Big... everywhere." Vere had said.

His hand slides down the taut length of your spine to cup the small of your back. He urges you closer, lets you feel the hot length of his arousal for yourself, as well as you can through the leathers and cloth. Deep, you think, and swallow nervously.

I just want to know," he says, slow 'n syrupy. "How badly I'm gonna break you."

[lostinforestbound]

I actually wrote this fic back in January, before ever making a tumblr! I had the idea for a while and I wanted to get it out there even if no one would see it, and now it's at over 100 kudos! Never would I have ever thought the fic would be seen this much, and I'm grateful that people like it! This is also an exploration of Rolan's insecurity and guilt being part of Cal and Lia's lives. Enjoy the tumblr version!

Rolan/GN!Tav

Look Away for a Minute

Rolan is frustrated by how his mind constantly clings to the past. It refuses to move on, and he should be over it by now...right? OR A nightmare tortures Rolan in the night, but Tav is there to help him through it.

Word Count: 3k (AO3)

Relevant Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Nightmare sequence, Mentions of abuse, Mentions of vomiting, Rolan's POV

The crushing pressure of hands around Rolan's throat is too much, cutting off his airway so he couldn’t breathe, and so tight that it could snap his neck in any moment. His sharp nails desperately scrape at the wrists positioned there, trying to find a breath that will never come, his tail lashing out from under him. He wants to fight harder, kick until his bones crack, scream until his voice is gone, bite until his jaw locks and breaks his teeth, but an unrelenting fear paralyzes him in place.

He can’t see the face above him through unfocused eyes; it's cast in an unnatural shadow with cruel blue irises staring down at him. It's unblinking, watching him struggle with a lack of reaction as his throat goes dry as sand, the urge to cough rising in need.

Lorroakan.

Rolan rasps, his nails- his claws leaving angry red welts across Lorroakan's forearms. He didn’t know the answer. What was the gods damned answer? Was it something about divination runes? The creation of the Weave? Or was it the Spellplague in the Year of Blue Fire? N-No, no, it had to be about the Nightsong, the relic that he so aggressively sought after. He can still fix this! He can correct himself and apologize. He'll grovel if he has to, knock his own pride down a few pegs to be more convincing and pathetic, just as his mentor wants him to be. He can do better, he has to do better, for Cal and Lia. After what they've both been through for him, for this damn apprenticeship he wanted so badly, it is the least he can do for them. He will-

“What is this, hm?”

Another face appears above him, one he should be so familiar with but it faded so much over time. It's been so many years since he looked at her portrait, one that was gifted to him by Cal when he was welcomed into their little family; he couldn't bear to look at it again, not after her funeral. Her eyes are just as vicious as Lorroakan’s, but she is someone Rolan fears much more. It makes his blood run cold, body shaking as if he was dunked in the frozen waters of Neverwinter.

“You were the sweetest child, but I see who you are now: A manipulator, and a thief.”

Please, no-

“You stole my family, little one. You stole them away for me. Did you wait idly for me to die in order to take them for yourself?”

The moment he tries to tear his eyes away, a new set of hands forces his head still with a grip on his face, maintaining the eye contact. He chokes still, desperate tears filling his eyes as his struggle intensifies. The tiefling couldn't even give her the courtesy of pleading for mercy, or to apologize, he just wanted to run away; after all, he is a coward. One who couldn't even look at a portrait of the person he thought of as his own mother.

These hands have delicate fingers but are just as tight, enough to bruise his fragile jaw; when did he get so small? “Little Rolan, a greedy child. I gave you my home, I fed you warm meals, and I gave you a bed; was that not enough for you? A selfish boy you are! A pitiful thing. The one time I feed a stray, he comes back for more. He takes and takes and never stops. They don’t need you like you need them. They don’t even want you.“

He knows, he knows that uncomfortably well, but by the gods does he need them. He needs them so badly. If they were gone, he would have nothing else.

He feels himself grow limp as more unnerving words are whispered. Most of it he can’t even register anymore, but he knows one thing for sure.

“They would be better off without you burdening them.”

He wakes with a sharp gasp, sitting up with a disoriented mind with wide golden eyes. Instinctively, he digs his nails into his neck, but it takes him a long moment to realize that there is no hands there, no hands to choke him. He breathes in heavy to get air in his lungs, heart racing as he takes in the dark room around him. He’s in his bedroom. He’s not on the cold wood or even in his workspace inside the tower, where he used to be tutored. He’s alive. He's not suffocating. He’s not dying. He’s not dying. Everything is as it should be.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he tries to breathe through his rising panic, but it's not working; every time he sucks air in, it's never enough. He either ends up coughing or barely breathing at all. Nothing and everything feels real at the same time, is he even in the room? The silence presses against his ears, making him feel so, so isolated in the worst way possible. Lorroakan is dead. He can’t hurt him anymore, so why does he still dream of him?

Why does he still dream of her?

“Rolan…” A sleepy voice mutters, before he feels steady arms wrap around his waist, pulling him into another body. He bristles momentarily, almost spiraling into panic once more until he realizes who it is that holds him.

It’s warm, and it’s secure.

It's Tav. It’s safe.

He lets out an exhausted, shaky sigh, leaning back into the hold. His skin glistens from the cold sweat he woke up to. When he lifts up his hands to try and hold theirs, he sees how much they shake; his fingers twitch uncontrollably, and he idly notices that there were small sparks of magic attempting to get conjured. The spell is unrecognizable with how unstable it looks, he can't tell which one it is. Mage Armor? Magic Missile? Thunderwave?-

He feels Tav leave gentle kisses on the back of his neck and across his shoulder blades, making his internal questions pause. “Are you alright?” They question softly, but they know the answer; they know him too well, but it seems they want to hear him say it anyways.

A deep breath echoes in the bedroom, and he squeezes his eyes shut once more as the energy fades from his hands. “No.”

“Do you wish to speak on it?”

“No.”

“For later then. Come here.” They murmur, pulling him to lay back down.

He relents, but he feels disgusting with all the sweat. Gods, why is he sweating so much, and why does he feel cold? The dream was over, it was done.

Tav did not seem to mind the fact he clings to them, turning and letting him hide his face in their neck. It was a little awkward with the horns, but they make it work with their chin resting on his head. He feels their hand start to scratch at his scalp, and the amount of relief that gives him is absolutely embarrassing. His tail curls around their leg to keep them close, and the comforting sensations almost make him want to cry. They peck the top of his head, nuzzling into his sweat damp hair.

He doesn’t deserve this. He really doesn’t.

He’s unsure how long they lay there, it was mostly him trying to calm his heart. He feels fingers gently trace the ridges on his skin, cautious in how they touch. They were sensitive, and the trailing warmth made him shiver. He knows they’re trying to distract him; It’s sweet of them, truly, but his depression grips his chest so deeply. Usually he can handle these on his own. He’s a confident man, and he knows he has Cal and Lia by his side. That they want to stay by his side. If they thought anything else, they wouldn't stay in this tower he took over after the death of his teacher.

But some days are like these, where he can barely move and thinks he deserves nothing after butting into a family that will never be his.

Tav shouldn’t have to deal with this, though they think otherwise, it seems. It isn’t the first time this happened, he's had night terrors that sent him in a panic so bad he vomited and he can't even remember what it was even about. It bewildered and embarrassed him, but Tav didn't even say anything about it, they only cleaned him and the mess up as if it was not a problem. It won’t be the last time this will occur, no matter how much he wants it to be. But that’s what Tav signed up for, happily. They wanted Rolan, with all of his flaws and night terrors.

They shift slightly, pulling Rolan's body on top of them so he can rest there, arms snaking around his waist. Holding him close, their grip was loose in case this wasn’t okay. But Rolan only lays limply against them, energy gone but unable to go back sleep.

He just sees eyes.

“-ght, Rolan?”

Oh, they’re calling him. He can’t force his tongue to work. It feels heavy in his mouth.

They push some hair away from his eyes before cupping his jaw. “My love,” He listens, but their voice is muffled when it tries to reach his ears, a constant ring blocking the sound. It’s so loud. So loud. So loud-

A part of him startles when they start rubbing at his ears. They’re particularly sensitive, they know this after nibbling on them at some point in an attempt to be playful, and it’s enough to make him whine at the touch.

“Rolan,” They murmur, kissing him right between the eyes. “Come back to me, lovely. You'll be okay; you're with me, yes?”

He wants to believe that, even just for a little bit.

He buries his face in their chest, wanting to lay there. To be held, to be comforted. Doesn’t he deserve that after all the bullshit he’s been through? After the torture, the pain, the loneliness?

No.

No he doesn’t, and the thought alone makes him want to drink until he's numb, just like at Last Light Inn, where he thought his siblings, his only family, were dead and gone. Or possibly being tortured at Moonrise Towers. He doesn't know which one was worse to think about, his imagination knowing no bounds in its creativity. What would they have done, if the True Souls decided to hurt them? Would they take their eyes and cut out their tongues like how they did with Asharak-

Before his mind could grow darker, thumbs continue stroking his pointy ears as Tav speaks, “What’s the difference between Transmutation and Evocation? I keep forgetting...” Tav quizzes, feigning innocence.

A foolish question, even a child could answer it…but it’s distracting.

“Transmutation will physically alter the form of an object, or fundamentally change something in its entirety. Evocation is damaging effects mostly used in combat, but will also be used to heal wounds, as you see with clerics.”

“And what is another school useful in combat?”

“Abjuration; it specializes in defense protocols but some spells can be useful in combat, like Counterspell.”

They hum at the response, pulling him up more to kiss his forehead, right between his devilish horns. “You’re so smart, Master Rolan.”

He lets out a stuttering breath. Gods, this night is awful. He feels awful, Tav shouldn't have to deal with this.

When they suddenly start to sit up, his already fragile heart dropped into his nauseated stomach. Did they get sick of him already? Are they going to leave? Will they-

“Let’s take a bath.”

This snaps him out of his raging thoughts, staring at their eyes. "It’s late,” He states after a long moment of contemplating.

“So? Who’s going to be knocking on our door telling us not to take a bath in our own home? It’s your tower,” They say, helping him sit up as well before smiling teasingly. “Let’s take a bath, I’m sure being all sweaty is grossing you out.”

He is reluctant, but doesn’t say no when they help him out of the bed. It felt as if his body refused to move. It’s tense and rigid, his tail curled around his own leg. He can't look at them, and he’s unsure if it’s out of shame or out of fear. Fear of what? Tav? No, no! That would be idiotic to fear them. They love him. He loves them. He loves them so much it hurts. If he could rip out his very soul and gift it to them, he would do so without a second thought.

Their hand holds his firmly, something to ground him into their reality, and they lead him towards their private bathing room, decorated in lovely tapestries with a variety of colors. Some have subtle designs and are more abstract, while others have vivid images of Tav's heroics of Baldur's Gate. It's a courtesy of some citizens that they were gifted, but he cannot tell yet if they even like them there or not; still, he hung them up high for display because...well, he is so proud of them, how could he not be? He certainly thinks some of them are tacky, and he voices that opinion often, and it always makes his love laugh. The sweet, delicate smell of lavender hits his senses after Tav fills their large basin with water, bubbles forming almost instantly.

He watches their movements, seeing them strip off their clothes and kicking them off the side before they approach him again. Their hands smooth over his forearms, and they peck his nose as they unlace his trousers, stripping him as well. He lets them, a feral instinct inside of him begging for the touch, begging for any form of love they’re willing to give. He wants all of it, and he’s selfish for it.

They lead him into the basin first, getting in themselves after he’s settled. They then gently turn him around so he could press his back against their chest. It would be easier to wash his hair this way.

Both of them exchange no words, they only bathe Rolan while they hum to themselves, as if this was normal. This isn’t normal. He doesn’t deserve to be pampered when he’s done absolutely nothing to earn it. But he’s also too weak to resist.

So he lets them run their fingers through his hair, their nails scratching his scalp and rubbing the soap in. He closes his eyes when requested, letting the warm wash over him. Even when his hair and body are clean from the cold sweat, Tav insists on massaging his shoulders, working out any knots he may have. Being the master of a tower is stressful, after all.

During this he zones out, the silence deafening him as his thoughts run rampant once more. He hears them speak to him but the phrases never form coherently. Flashes of the dream drag him down into a form of despair, boring into him like ice pick.

His eyes start to sting, but then his worst fear comes to life; he starts to weep. He’s cried very few times in his life, and even then, those few times they at least warranted tears. He was allowed to cry. But this? In front of Tav and over a gods damned dream?

It only gets worse, because the weeping turns into full blown sobs, body curling forward with his face almost touching the dirty water as he hugs himself tight. His body thinks it’s in danger, somehow, and he can’t pull himself together. Voices tell him he’s nothing and deserves nothing.

Tav soothes him, leaning over him and littering kisses across his shoulders. They say nothing, and he’s thankful for it. He can’t imagine trying to speak in this state, when he tries his words die on his tongue. It's as if like he’s choking all over again, and the urge to cough grows.

Eventually his sobs delude to into sniffles and barely silent whimpers. Tav still doesn’t speak, nuzzling into the soaked skin on the back of his neck. When he calms down, Tav helps him out of the basin after getting out themselves, drying him off and changing him into new night clothes, one that was clean and softer than the one he chose before. He felt pathetic not being able to change himself, but he had no will to do so.

“I’m sorry,” He hears himself croak out. “You should be sleeping.”

Gods, they shouldn't have to even deal with him. What he went through is only a fraction of what they've been through. They saved the entire Sword Coast, possibly the entire world from the Absolute, all while they had a damn tadpole in their heads threatening to turn them and their friends into illithids. Yet, they're doing so gods damn well in their lives, a greedy part of him thinking it's unfair. Why are they fine while he is not? How did they do it?

“There’s nothing to apologize for. You had a bad dream, it happens more often than you would think,” They say, tracing their lips against his cheek while he processes the implication of their statement. “We don’t have to talk about it now. Just know that I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Though he lacks the energy for it, his mind wants to kiss them so deeply a never let go. He wants to drown in them, in their scent, in their body- damn it all, why is he so needy? He hates- no, he loathes how needy he is, how fucking desperate he gets. It's pathetic; he is so utterly pathetic. Pitiful. Miserable.

When they pull him back to their shared bed and lay down once more, they let him get as close as he wants, and he is thankful for it. It ends up with arms around them tight, him burying his face into their neck while his tail curls around their thigh. He wants to be close tonight, a silent plea for them to let him know everything is okay.

So they indulge his wish, playing with his hair all the while. He probably won’t sleep much tonight, but that’s okay by them, they always preach. It’s not the first time, and it won’t be the last, and they can and will live with that.

Healing is never linear, after all.

[minjiarchive]

“take it, take all of me” | jiu x fem!reader

this was requested hehe, i'm back posting btw i'm so shit at posting because of school :(

warning / smut, edging, light choking sub!jiu

“Take it, take all of me inside.”

Your hands were pinned at her sides, refusing to let her squirm and move underneath you as you slid your strap inside her. Minji winced at the pain of you stretching her out, but the pleasure of you being deep in her helped to block the sudden stretch. It always boosted your confidence to know that you can fuck a pretty girl like her.

“You're going to be good and stay still for me, okay?” you ordered while using one of your hands to hold her down. She nodded at your request but you already knew you were going to have a long night with keeping her still. You wanted to see how badly it would take for her to be a mess.

You started moving your strap in her, being slow and gentle at first. Her mouth fell open to let out a few sighs and a soft moan while her hand shot up to hold onto your arm. The sight of her struggling to not squirm helplessly was too good for you not to smile at her.

“Y/N... you feel so good,” Minji breathed. Although the urge she had to not bounce herself back onto your strap drove her mind into different places, she tried her hardest to focus on staying still.

Fuck it, she won't notice it anyway.

She started to push the length deeper in her, as far as it could go. You looked down to see the silicone slowly disappear inside her, you swallowed hard just thinking about how desperate she had to be to do that. You pretended to not notice it and allowed her to enjoy herself, for now.

“I'm getting so close, please don't stop,” she begged, rocking her hips harder against you.

When she was about to send herself into pure ecstasy, you pulled out quickly, leaving a long wet trail of her arousal on your strap.

You hushed her before she could even whine about you edging her. You knew her too well to know that she would play the 'innocent card' with you.

“You aren't cumming yet, I told you not to move when I'm fucking you tonight.”

“But I didn't even move... I was being good for you.”

You hummed in response, not taking any excuse for an answer, your hand snaked its way up her chest, stopping at her neck to choke her lightly.

“Then let's just see how long you can last being bad before you start crying out for me.”

[argisthebulwark]

To the ends of the earth, with my dying breath

summary: short drabbles about the first time saying "I love you" in a relationship. gn reader, no pronouns or y/n used. feat: Miraak, Brynjolf, Farkas, Vilkas, Erandur warnings: canon typical mentions of blood/injury/death

Miraak will only admit that he loves you at the very end of your final fight. When all else is forgotten and Apocrypha crumbles around him he will clutch you to his chest and plead for you to remain together. His words are full of regret, his first and last "please, I love you" laced with the years spent yearning. Blood and tears mingling together when he tells you how badly he wishes to do it all over, to forget his search for power and simply love you as he's always wanted. "You have to know." His voice is raspy when he holds you closer, gloved fingers tangled in the mess of your hair. "You have to know that I would give it all up for you."

Brynjolf barely hears himself mumbling those words when he learns that you're alive. Days spend grieving melt away when you collapse into his arms. For weeks he'd fretted over finding the perfect moment to say them but when he sees you again they come spilling out. He can't process anything other than the fact that you're alive, you're safe and you came back to him. He feels you swiping away his tears and promising that you'll never scare him like that again, professing your love for him while every other thief struggles not to stare. "Never again." He mutters into your hair, arms like a vice around your sore body. "Please never leave me again."

Farkas hasn't given much thought to vocalizing his feelings for you - it seems so natural, so obvious through his actions. But when the skies are clear and moonlight guides your way through the Whiterun plains it feels right. He's busy bandaging a wound on your leg, fingers careful to not add to your pain when you break the silence. "You should know," he's looking up, drawn by the nervous tone of your voice. "I'm in love with you, Farkas." Delicate fingers smooth down the cloth bandage, placing a kiss over your wound. His heart's racing in his chest and he has to resist the urge to swing you around - you'd lost some blood in that last scuffle. The last thing he wants to do is hurt the person he loves.

Vilkas would tell you he loves you when he realizes how content he's become. When you're relaxing in the hall together, one leg tossed lazily over his and sharing some mundane paperwork. Other Companions mill about, drinking and laughing when it hits him. His entire life has changed since you entered Jorrvaskr demanding to join the Companions and it's all your doing. "Thank you for all you've done since joining us." He pauses, unsure of how to say it. His voice remains low so only you hear. "I love you."

Erandur has known for a while that he loves you. He lives for your touches, your smiles, your teasing comments. Yet he holds himself back - he wants the first time those words pass his lips to be special. It isn't until he fully relaxes that it feels right. When he realizes that all duties have been fulfilled and quests completed at your side. Your insistent hands tugging him into the hot spring and the easy expression on your face put him at ease. "I am in love with you." It is said in a rare moment of quiet. He watches your eyes flutter open, hand gripping his under the warm waters. "I revere you, Dragonborn. I would fall to my knees and worship if you asked."

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

An Altar For Our Sins

Part 6 // Masterlist

Demon!Billy Russo x Reader

Warnings: Dark!Billy Russo, minor talks of non-consensual acts done in part 5, smut, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, face sitting, tail fucking, (putting that in bold so you see it), you hear me? He fucks her with his tail. It's consensual. Do not complain to me if you miss these warnings. She sort of gets a little high at the end from his cum. Mentions of blood and violence similar to other parts.

You'd let it bother for quite some while. Ever since he confessesed it to you, you went through many confusing emotions. Shock, worry, arousal, confusion, more arousal, concern, and then acceptance.

Now, you were onto another emotion entirely.

Fury.

As you watch him, deep in thought, pondering your next logical move after the events of today, you finally decide to say something about it.

"I think I'm mad at you."

He pauses, turning to look at you with widening eyes from his spot, leaning against your dining table. He almost looks innocent, with the way he blinks once, his eyebrows furrowing immediately after.

"Mistress?" He asked with a concerned voice and your glare doesn't waver.

"You cleaned me up while I was asleep, Billy... with your tongue."

You can see the genuine confusion and concern in his eyes.

"Yes?"

Damn, you were so aroused already. You take a few steps toward him, looking up at him angrily.

"You used your tongue on me, your rough, perfect tongue on me, while I was asleep- do you see the problem?"

His eyebrows draw together just a little, deep in thought.

"I-"

"You didn't think I'd want to be awake for that, Billy? Hmm? Didn't think I'd prefer to feel it? What if I did that to you? What if I licked that big cock while you were asleep and told you all about it when you woke up? How would you feel?"

Billy gulps.

"I'm sorry?" He mumbles, eyes trailing after you as you turn away from him with a scoff.

"I can make it up to you." He offers, watching your retreating form, his stomach clenched with the need to make things right.

You sigh, "Yeah, but I won't know if you're genuine or not- there's nothing quite like the first."

"Mistress." He says, desperately.

You turn back to face him. He takes the few steps it requires to stand before you. He looms over you so easily, your stomach flips at the size of him.

When he drops to his knees, you struggle with your arousal to stay composed, though it takes everything in you not to crumble.

He takes your hands in his, looking up at you with pleading eyes and you're so eternally turned on.

"Let me make this right," he begs, kissing your fingers, "Please, I can do better."

The power he gives you, goes to your head all over again. It's just like that night, the way you want to torment him burns inside you. You raise your hands to cup his face, your thumb brushing his lips.

"Poor little demon," you whisper, watching his eyelids flutter at the words, "Wants to make his mistress happy so badly."

His eyes flicker red for a moment.

You straighten your body.

"I suppose why not? It's not like you haven't already had your taste of me." You speculate, turning away from him to head to your bedroom.

.

.

.

EARLIER TODAY:

"You're being followed."

You tense up, fighting the urge to look around.

Was it the same people that had kidnapped you? Hadn't Billy confessed to killing them all? Maybe it was just some random person that had taken an interest in you.

You try to keep walking calmly, Billy's hand pressed to your back to steer you.

After a moment, you build up the courage to speak.

"What's going on?" You ask him, raising a hand to your mouth to pretend to yawn while you speak.

Billy looks around for a moment.

"Got a sense that something was off, noticed there's a car that has been following you for a couple of blocks, and three people on foot behind us that are suspicious- here- just stop to look at this flower for a second."

You do as he says, pausing to look at the bouquets lined up outside of the store.

"Oh, they are pretty." You say, distracted by the combination of sunflowers and roses.

"Yeah, they're definitely following, bad job at it too. Come on." Billy says, hand pressing into your back to guide you along.

You turn, and continue down the street.

"Where are we going?" You ask, curiously.

"There's a church nearby, you'll be safe there while I find out more. No one will think to look for you in a church if they think you're bound to me."

"Why?"

"Cause they think I can't enter. Turn here, I'll make you invisible until you go in, call for me if anything happens."

You swallow, hesitating to leave him. Your body takes on a purple aura, letting you know that you're invisible. You head up the steps to the small church, the large wooden door makes a solid sound as it closes behind you.

And then you're alone.

You swallow, studying the carving on the door. The church is so silent compared to the street outside and it emphasises how alone you are.

You turn, there's no one around you can see, but the atmosphere of the church distracts you. You study the beautiful stained glass mural at the front, light shines through, tossing a kaleidoscope of colours into the air.

The calm hush of the room calls to you, quietly asking for you to respect the space you're in.

You're entranced by the detailed design, everywhere you focus you find so much carefully thought out devotion expressed as art.

Carved marble columns, religious paintings lined with gold, you wonder how much time and effort had been put into the place.

And then you remember that Billy's existence implied there was one of higher power.

It doesn't necessarily change the way you see the world, it's not some big epiphany that comes with the realisation that God was real.

It did make you wonder about both sets of your parents.

You hadn't known your biological parents well, but you wondered where they were. Was there a heaven for them? Had they already faced judgment?

The thought makes you frown, a searing pain in your chest and the idea that you would face a similar judgement one day.

Then your adoptive parents come to mind. People who had taken you in and raised you as their own couldn't have possibly been bad enough to deserve hell right? They'd been atheist, did that automatically condemn them? Was that fair?

"I can tell you're spiralling." A voice says behind you.

You spin in fright, to find a man with a very kind face smiling at you. He raises his arms in a surrendering motion when he realises he's scared you.

He's dressed in a cassock and collar, with a shiny black rosary around his neck, a pair of red tinted round glasses sit on his nose, so darkly tinted that you wonder how he can see anything through them.

"Didn't mean to scare you," he says, "I just have a sixth sense for existential crises." He smiles.

He's very hot, you decide, with hair neatly combed on his head, and a short cropped beard, you find yourself returning his smile.

"Sorry, yeah, I just came to the realisation that God exists." You say, nodding your head in the direction of a wooden carving of Jesus on the cross.

He hums, "Well then, welcome to the club."

His words are so odd that you can't help the laughter that spills past your lips, and then you find him smiling along with you, proud that he'd lightened the mood.

"I'm Matt." He says, extending a hand to you.

"Matt? Not 'Father' or anything?" You ask curiously. You find yourself studying him closely, realising that there are some healing bruises on his cheek, and a split lip that looks to be a few days old.

"'Father' is so formal. Matt is better."

You nod, giving him your name and reaching out to shake his hand.

"Are you okay? You look like you lost a fight." You ask, concerned.

Matt smiles, waves off your concern.

"Ah, not being able to see sometimes means you fall down stairs. I'll be okay."

"Oh, I'm sorry." You say in sympathy.

"About the stairs or the blindness?" He asks with a humorous inflection in his voice.

"Are all priests this funny?" You ask with a wide smile, and he chuckles.

"I'm just trying to make you feel better, I know how confusing things can be for you right now."

You let out a sigh, nodding.

"I appreciate it. Life has been a big mess as of late... but not all bad." You turn to study the rows of flickering candles nearby.

"I imagine being soul bonded to a demon can't be all fun." He answers and it takes you a second to realise what he's said.

You turn slowly this time, mouth open comically. He keeps a kind smile on his face while you quietly lose your shit.

"What do you mean?" You say, playing dumb.

He bows his head, to hide his smile.

"Cards on the table, I can sense demonic auras. But I've never met a living person with a demonic aura, so I put two and two together and figure that you must have been bound to one... I assume against your will. Am I correct?"

"Y- yeah..."

He nods, deep in thought.

"I'm not judging. I'm in no place to do that. Though I hope you're okay, and I want you to know that if you ever need any help... I won't turn you away."

You blink at him. Was it really that easy not to judge someone?

"You're not... condemning me for it?" You murmur in a soft voice.

"Don't get me wrong, it's not something I support... but you don't seem like a bad person, just an unfortunate circumstance."

You swallow the lump forming in your throat, nodding, feeling the urge to make him understand.

"You're right. I didn't want this. They tried to sacrifice me... he saved me. He keeps me safe."

Matt nods in understanding.

"Please be careful though, manipulation is in their nature."

You blink, your head trying to come up with a myriad of excuses for Billy, a way to explain to this knowledgeable stranger that for all Billy was bad, he was working to be better.

As you open your mouth to explain, the church doors open.

It's hard to see more than his silhouette with the brightness of the sun behind him, but you know by the horns, that it's your demon at the church doors.

"I have to go." You say to Matt, turning back to him.

He inclines his head.

"Be careful." He says, before turning away, and disappearing into a room to the left of the altar.

You think about the strange conversation as you head toward Billy.

When you get close enough to make out his features, your mouth drops open in surprise.

He stands in the light of the church doors,  drenched in blood.

"What the hell happened?!" You whisper aggressively to him.

All he does is give you a bloody grin.

Water pours over both of you.

You're still fully clothed, but you take your time helping him out of his bloody shirt.

Blood runs in rivulets from the crown of his head, down the sides of his face and over his torso.

He's deliciously attractive like this, and you try not to let it show as you help clean him.

Just moments ago, you were standing in a church corridor, Billy had wrapped his arms around you and teleported you right into your bathroom.

"Whose blood is this?" You ask, grabbing some shampoo to work into his hair.

He bends his large body, presenting the top of his head to be cleaned.

You take your time, working the shampoo in, lathering easily, and rinsing the blood from his hair. Out of precaution, you give him a second wash too, making sure to get every inch of his horns. He groans once or twice when you use your nails to scratch along his scalp, not paying it much mind.

"The group that summoned me is a lot bigger than I thought." He starts, as you work conditioner into his hair.

"Some of them had been watching from cameras that night, and they'd seen everything happen." Billy continues to explain.

You take a deep breath to steady yourself.

"They know where you live, but they wouldn't dare try something, not with me here."

"Should we move? Just in case?" You ask. Your little apartment definitely wasn't the safest place to be, and if it made you feel safer, you wouldn't mind getting a place with better security on Billy's influence.

He thinks about it, and after a minute, he nods in agreement.

You think about what they could have seen- you, sobbing and bound, wearing your coat and nightdress, the way you'd tried to crawl away, the way Billy had looked, naked and shrouded in smoke.

What would they do if they managed to catch you? The thoughts were terrifying.

"Hey." He says, bumping his horn into your hand to get your attention.

He raises his head, and you gulp as he towers over you.

You know what he sees, your worried expression, you wonder if he can feel the nervous wriggle of your stomach, the way you're trying your hardest not to freak out.

"I-" You try to tell him that you'll be okay but the words won't come. You look away, avoiding his eyes.

"Mistress." Billy murmurs softly.

You look back at him, his hands raise to cup your face.

"You're safe, I promise you that you're safe."

You swallow, nodding.

A warm moment as he bumps his nose against yours, leaning in to place a soft kiss on your lips.

.

.

.

NOW:

You're sitting on the bed patiently when he walks in. Though you were confident only moments before, you've gone shy now, with the realisation of what you're about to do.

Slowly, looking up at him you tug your shorts down your legs, letting him see the comfortable, white silk panties just below.

He moves closer, eyes still fixed on yours as your thumbs curl into the waistband of your underwear next.

He leans forward to stop you, his large hands covering yours, pulling them away.

"Why don't you lay back, and let me take care of everything?" Billy offers with a soft voice, and you nod, looking up at him.

You take a breath, scooching back on your bed, propping your head onto a stack of pillows that has you reclined at a 45 degree angle.

He gives you a warm look of approval, before reaching back to pull his shirt over his head.

His hair gets messy, and you fight the urge to right it, his horns poking through his hair.

You swallow, eyes trailing down his bare torso, carefully sculpted, beautifully carved, leading down to a small waist.

He's built a little like a swimmer, you think, defined in all the best places.

His knees touch the bed, you press your thighs together tightly as he crawls his way up to you. A predator in every sense of the word.

He hovers over you, large and imposing, with warm eyes and a gentle smile.

"Sure you want this?" He asks softly.

You struggle to open your mouth to speak, only able to nod eagerly.

"What are you going to do to me?" You whisper, watching his eyes dart down to your mouth.

He lets out a long sigh, eyes sparkling red for just a moment before he speaks.

"I'm gonna get you nice and naked." He breathes, "Gonna kiss your pretty skin until you're so relaxed under me that you can barely lift your head." He leans in to whisper the rest into your ear, his soft stubble scratching your skin gently, your core throbs in response to him.

"Then, I'll put my tongue on you. Lick that sweet cunt until you're crying, until you're not sure if you want to pull me closer or push me away."

He draws back so you can look into his eyes. There a place, set between your hip bones, that tingles deep inside of you.

"What about your fingers? Or your tail?" You ask.

"What about them?"

You swallow.

"A-are you going to use them on me?"

His smile grows into a grin.

"No." He murmurs, leaning forward to kiss the tip of your nose.

"If you want that, you're going to have to ask for it. I'm not going to fuck my tail into you without your consent." He says. The tail in question trails gently over your thigh.

Oh? Now he's concerned about your consent?

You nod in understanding, raising a hand to cup his cheek. He lets out a slow sigh, closing his eyes, savouring the feelings in his chest.

Your hand drifts, cupping the back of his neck and he opens his eyes to meet yours.

You pull him closer, you brace your other hand on the bed to push your face closer to his.

When your lips meet, it's surprisingly gentle, despite the fact that you can cut the desire in the room with a knife.

Your first kiss with Billy, your real first kiss and it's perfect, he doesn't treat it like a preamble to anything else, doesn't rush to pull at your clothes or feel your body while you're distracted. No, he cups your cheeks to keep you in place, no chance of you slipping away or breaking the kiss before he's ready.

He sighs against your mouth and you desperately take the opportunity, parting your lips to run your tongue over the seam of his.

He groans, his hands tighten on your face for just a second, before his mouth parts, eager to slip his tongue against yours.

You make a small sound of delight, his tongue just a little rougher than normal, tangling with yours in the best way, a sharing of your breaths that feels more intimate than anything else.

Your hand drifts higher, into his hair, all the way to the lovely dark horns sprouting from his head.

From the first graze of your fingertips against his horn, he lets out a long groan, the sound vibrates against your lips, desperate and brazen and begging you.

It's you that has to finally move, slipping your hand from his hair, grabbing one of his hands that cup your cheeks and guiding them down to the edge of your shirt.

His fingers curl around the fabric absentmindedly, moving only the way your hand guides.

You push his hand up one side, until the shirt can go as far as possible, and then you reach for the other side of your shirt.

He breaks the kiss finally when the shirt is tucked under your breasts, his other hand moves from your cheek to where your hand is, pulling your shirt up, and off your body.

The air kisses your cool skin and you can't help but shiver.

You're bare beneath it, and you watch Billy's eyes shine red, tucking the edge of his bottom lip into his mouth to bite down on it.

You reach up, smiling as you use your thumb to untuck his lip, leaning forward to bite down on it yourself.

The sound he makes is downright unhinged. You almost giggle and if you weren't nibbling on his bottom lip you definitely would.

He pulls back, letting his lip slip from between your teeth, pushing you until you fall back against the pillows with wide eyes.

He kisses your lips one last time, then the corner of your mouth, over your cheek, the edge of your jaw to the spot right below your ear.

"Let's not forget why we're here, Mistress," he says into your ear, his tongue slipping out to graze the shell of your ear. You gasp in surprise at the pleasurable feel, "My tongue."

How could you forget? It's not as if you could stop thinking about his tongue from the moment you licked over it a few nights ago.

He kisses down the column of your neck, before taking his time, licking all the way up.

God, that feels so nice, the ache between your legs can no longer be sated from being pressed together. You wriggle, and he leans back to give you the space you need to wrap your legs around his hips.

Your ankles lock behind his ass instinctively, and when he smiles, leaning back in to continue his exploration of your chest, you feel his stiff erection right against your centre.

You gasp, rocking your hips a little, chasing the feeling that grinding your clothed pussy against him gives you. You wriggle, whining when the pressure isn't exactly in the right spot, only to feel his tail, work its way between your thighs to press right against your clit.

You gasp, body arching at the pleasure that fills you. His tail making micro movements against the gusset of your panties, relieving the ache.

You relax, sighing as his tail sates you for the moment, his lips resuming their careful exploration, kissing over your chest, followed by the swipe of his tongue over your skin.

He gets to your breasts, kissing them softly, suckling the stiff bud of one breast between his lips before switching to the other.

He's so gentle, you feel a pull low in your stomach, begging him to just take you.

Fuck, if he was smaller, you'd be begging for him to try, but as of right now, you were still daunted by the size of the erection pressed against your thighs.

His hands push your breasts together and you groan, with his tail rubbing over your slit and his rough tongue dancing over your nipples and you feel just about ready to cum.

"Billlyyyy." You sing his name, he chuckles against the soft skin of your breast.

"Mistress," he murmurs, "I'd appreciate your patience while I explore your body. It's not every day that one gets to explore his willing charge."

You groan as his tongue snakes from your nipple to your neck.

"You're being mean." You gasp out, one hand drifting up into his hair.

"I know. Isn't it fun?"

You let out an exasperated breath.

He continues kissing over your skin eagerly.

You let the need take control of you, reaching up to grip one of his horns, you pull him up for an eager kiss, putting all your feverish need into it.

He makes a sound, one of surprise and disapproval of interrupting his exploration.

"Please, please, please." You murmur hotly against his mouth, licking over his lips and feeling his tail press more firmly down on your clit in response.

"Stop teasing me." You beg finally before pulling away.

"Or what?" Billy challenges and you finally understand how truly demonic he can be to you.

But maybe you had a little bit of torment inside you too.

"Or I'll get someone else to do it." You hit back.

When his eyes flash red this time, you know it's anger and not lust. His jaw clenches, he takes a sharp breath. He lets some of the anger out on his next exhale.

His eyes remain red, as his mouth turns up into a smile.

"You're adorable, mistress." He say, leaning in to speak right into your ear in a soft voice.

"But if you think I'd sit by and let another touch you, you're in for a surprise." He leans away, hands drifting down your body until they settle on the waistband of your underwear.

"Because you're mine. Just as much as I am yours."

With those final words, he tears your panties away from your skin.

You're not surprised by his actions, only complaining to him that they were your favourite pair, watching him smile up at you before leaning down to kiss your stomach.

His hands are firm on your skin, daring you to try and move. He grips your hips as his lips trail down your stomach and over your thighs. You let out a sharp cry when he grazes his teeth against your inner thigh, his tail moving to circle your other leg, holding you open for him.

You watch him, as his eyes land on your dripping centre. You watch the way his mouth parts, the way he runs his tongue against the edge of his teeth as he looks at you.

"Fuck." He says suddenly, and you can't help clenching at the low, guttural way the word leaves his lips.

You let out a shaky sigh.

"Please." You beg, voice trembling in desperation.

His eyes flit up to yours, eyes a dark red, barely noticeable, but yet still so distinct.

He doesn't speak, dropping his head to kiss your slit.

You let out a soft hum, enjoying the way his lips feel, and then making another sound of approval as you feel his tongue for the first time.

His first proper lick makes you gasp loudly. His tongue is just rough enough that you feel where every part of it rubs against you.

He's gentle as he licks you, and when he touches your clit, you cry out.

It almost feels like too much, and in the pleasure of it, you try to squeeze your legs closed, but you're unable to do so with his tail and his hand keeping your legs wide.

He presses his tongue flat on you, shifting his head slightly so that it feels good, but not nearly enough.

He groans, pulling back for a moment to speak.

"You taste so good, mistress, I could do this for hours."

His lips close around your clit for a brief moment, before he focuses the tip of his tongue right on that spot. You jerk in bliss, your thighs tremble.

"Billy. Billy. Please. Please." You beg.

With his tongue on your clit, you hear him let out a short laugh.

"Yes? Is there something you need?"

Fuck. How could he play with you at a time like this?

"You. Need you." You gasp.

"Me?"

Without thinking, you reach down and gently take one of his horns in your grip.

When he stops moving, you look down at him in concern that you make have crossed a line.

Instead, he looks at you with so much heat in his eyes that it floors you.

With half-lidded red eyes, he reaches for your other hand, wrapping it around his other horn.

"You better hold on, baby." He says, leaning down to continue licking you.

His slick tongue probes you, exploring your cunt in ways you've never felt before.

Your grip on his horns tighten when he starts licking into your entrance and over your clit at a steady pace. You let out a prolonged cry of his name, feeling your body tremble as the pleasure overtakes you.

He moans, the vibrations send tingles over your body, the wet sounds of his tongue on your cunt adding to the pleasure.

You hold his horns securely, back arching involuntarily as you feel your orgasm fast approaching.

Tears spill from the corner of your eyes. You pull on his horns to keep him close though you try to fight the sensations by attempting to close your legs. He doesn't let you, keeping you wide open for him instead.

His tongue speeds up, swiping over your clit repeatedly, he circles his tongue on you. You can't help the pitiful sob that leaves your mouth.

You cry his name, he doesn't stop.

You tremble violently when you cum. Your body spasms and shakes but you can't control any of it because you're too lost in the bliss to focus on anything else. Like molten lava spreading through your veins, sending scorching hot pleasure through your body, your clit throbbing as Billy continues to lick you softly through your orgasm.

You pant, struggling to catch your breath with the onslaught of bliss, absentmindedly realising that you've been gripping his horns harshly- you release them suddenly so that he can move away if he wants.

He doesn't budge, continuing to lap at your dripping pussy until you whine from the overstimulation.

His lips are shiny with your arousal, eyes like rubies as you watch his tongue swipe over his mouth.

You swallow, body tingling at the sight of him, aching for more.

"Can I-" Your voice cuts off, shocked at the absurdity of the question you were about to ask. More? You wanted more? How could you possibly ask him for more after he'd given you so much already?

"Mistress?" Billy asks curiously with a tilt of his head, his eyes reverting back to his natural dark hue.

"Nothing. It's nothing. Thank you Billy." You say, sitting up.

He reaches out to stop your movement, hands on your shoulders, thumbs circling your skin.

"Whatever it is, you can ask. I'm here to serve."

"That sounds awful." You say with an apologetic twist of your mouth.

He grins, leans down to place a soft kiss on your lips.

"Let me put it this way, if I didn't want to... I wouldn't."

You swallow, nodding.

"I want... more." You whisper, unable to meet his eyes.

"More?" He echoes.

You nod shyly.

He cups your face between his hands, angling you up to meet his eyes that have gone right back to their crimson colour.

"More of my tongue? Or something else?"

"T- tongue." You whisper so softly in hopes that he doesn't hear.

"Would you like to try sitting on my face?"

Your eyes widen.

"What?" You ask, perplexed, your body warming with the thought of sitting on his face, gripping his horns for leverage while he-

"I'll take that as a yes." He says suddenly, flipping you both until you're seated on his adonis belt. You gasp in surprise at the sudden movement, and then groan as your bare center rubs against him.

His hands smooth over your thighs, to grip your hips.

"Are you sure?" You ask him cautiously.

"I'm sure if you are." He agrees, and you don't hesitate any longer, shuffling your way up his body. When you lose your balance, he grips your hips tighter to hold you securely.

Billy is aching below you. He wants another taste badly, he's almost impatient to feel the weight of you on his face, the way you'll moan and buck your hips for him while he gets another taste of you.

He waits, he's calm through your hesitation, reassuring when you freeze.

"It's okay, I want this." He murmurs below you.

You take a slow breath in as you make contact with his face.

Billy groans below you.

"Oh shit-" You say, moving to raise off of him, "Did I hurt you-?"

He groans again, hands tightening on your hips to pull your weight back onto his face. You gasp when his lips seal around your clit, distracting you from your worries of crushing him.

"Oh fuck Billy." You cry.

His tongue is deliciously amazing, coarse and gentle, working into an eager pace. You can't help reaching down to grip his horns, a move that gets a moan of approval from the demon below you.

His tongue traces circles, careless patterns of pleasure that guides you into rocking against his face involuntarily, panting his name on each breath.

"So good Billy, please, I need you so bad." You praise, rolling your hips onto his rough tongue and feeling the dizzying pleasure take control of you. He's everything you've ever wanted, your deepest desire come to life and when he kisses your clit, you can't help jerking in surprise at being brought up to the edge so suddenly.

He doesn't stop, swirling his tongue, plunging it as deep into you as he can possibly get, hands gripping you tight so that you can't even think of pulling away.

When gripping his horns is not enough, you allow one hand to delve into his hair, tangling the strands between your fingers before tugging.

His hands squeeze down impossibility tighter and in the moment, you realise both your bodies are communicating the same thing; don't you dare pull away from me.

The thought alone is euphoric, that he's happy to be exactly where he is, and with a few more ruts of your clit against his tongue, your body tenses, muscles spasming as you cum hard for a second time.

You barely have any faculties left to help you stay upright. Your body relaxes without your permission, and you allow yourself a space for your body to hit the bed.

You try to extricate yourself  from him, but he only growls, grabbing your legs to spread them apart so that he can continue licking your pussy.

You let out a harsh cry, his tongue avoids your clit as best as possible, and you realise as an afterthought, that this is him cleaning you up just the way he did a few nights ago.

When he's done, he raises his head to find you looking at him with glassy eyes.

"Need you." You gasp out, and you keep your eyes on him as he crawls into the space beside you.

You bury your face into his warm skin, your body still sending wave after wave of pleasure down your spine.

His hand is soothing on your cheek, thumbing at the glistening tears there.

If you had any reservations about asking for what you wanted, it's completely gone from you now.

"Want your tail. You- you said you could- you said I just had to ask-"

"Shhhhh, easy, take a deep breath."

"No," you fight, "I need you now. I feel so empty Billy. I've never felt this empty before."

He lets out a slow breath.

"Okay, okay, I'll give you what you need."

You hum in appreciation, hooking one leg over his hip, spreading the other eagerly. Open thighs for your demon to fit his tail into you.

"I should open you up a little on my fingers." Billy suggests, and your impatience gets the better of you, but when you open your mouth to protest, you catch sight of his tail and pause. The widest part of his tail is about the width of three of your fingers, and you know it would hurt a little to take that much into you.

"Okay." You whisper, meeting his eyes, a little daunted by the acts you were about to undergo, yet too desperate to stop now.

His large hand covers your pussy, his middle finger makes contact with your entrance. Your breath freezes in your throat at the delicious sensation of him rubbing your entrance.

"If anything hurts, you stop me. Okay?"

You blink, eagerly nodding your head.

He gets his finger nice and wet with the abundance of your arousal before he sinks his first knuckle into you. You gasp in a deep breath, tilting your hips up in a silent beg for more.

Billy is meticulous, careful, as he works his middle finger right into you, you barely feel any pain at all.

When he reaches all the way in, and you can feel him so impossibly deep inside of you, he pauses.

"How does that feel?" He asks, eyes trained on you. You turn to look at him, desperate eyes on his warm ones.

"Feels s'good."

"Yeah? What about when I move like this?" He asks, bringing his lone finger out and then pushing it slowly back into you.

You cry out, head falling back, eyes squeezed shut. He doesn't stop his slow movements, and you find yourself rocking your hips in time to his movements.

"It's not enough." You whine, "I need more."

"Okay, this may pinch a little bit, take a deep breath for me."

You do as he says, and in the exhale, two of his fingers probe your entrance.

He's right, two of his fingers pushing into you does pinch, and when you gasp in pain, his hand freezes.

"I'll stop." He says, beginning to withdraw his fingers from you.

"No please," you beg, "I need it, please Billy, I want to."

You hear his gulp, and feel as his two fingers attempt to push into you once more.

This time, he takes it even slower, allowing his fingers time to get wet with your arousal, before fucking them into you. You whimper, desperate and eager for the feel of his fingers. It makes you feel so full, in a way you've never felt before.

"I'm gonna open you up on my fingers." He whispers hotly in your ear, his voice sending shivers of bliss down your naked body.

"I'm going to stretch my mistress' tight cunt, until I can fit my tail in. Can you guess what I'll do next?"

You gasp, turning to look into his vermillion eyes, unable to say a word as his fingers do just as he says.

"That's right. I'm going to fuck you with my tail. Make you cum on it, maybe I'll make you clean your own cum off of my tail, kiss you so that I get the taste."

You squeeze your eyes shut.

"Maybe I'll flip you on your stomach and fuck my tail into you from behind. Maybe I can keep you stuffed full with it. Give you an idea of what my cock could be like."

Your breath hitches, you writhe beside him.

"I think you're ready for it." He whispers in your ear, and you think you are too.

He withdraws his fingers, and then something too familiar is working its way in.

Incoherent, your mouth opens wide to take in more air. His tail feels different than his fingers, thinner at the top, and only a little wider at the base. You clench around him eagerly, hearing him groan as he pumps his tail into you.

"I can't tell you how much I think about this. How often I've touched myself to the thought of being inside you." Tears spill onto your cheeks, you realise that you can feel the rough bumps on his tail rubbing against your inner walls, amping up your pleasure.

He starts slowly, but when he feels how eager you are, his pace increases.

You sob more, unable to form a single thought in your head past the pleasure if you tried.

You reach for him, grabbing onto the first thing you can reach- his wrist- and squeezing tight.

Billy leans closer, so that his lips brush your ear.

"I know, I know it feels so good. I can feel your pleasure- did you know? I can feel how mindless you are. It's a good thing you don't need to think. All you need to do is cum."

Your nails claw into his skin, he chuckles, his thrusts growing harsher.

He readjust his angle slightly, and a sound of pure bliss leaves your mouth.

"You feel so good, and you taste even better and you're all mine, mistress."

Your breath stutters in your throat, his tail slows it's pace, prolonging your pleasure, sliping in and out of you so calmly now, still touching every desperate part of you.

He reaches up, his fingers sinking into the pliant skin of your jaw, and tilting your head so that you can look into his eyes.

More tears leak down your face, as his tail continues to take its time fucking into you so sweetly. The pleasure burns inside you, scorching hot and sears ecstasy into your mind until you can think of nothing else but him.

He looks down at you, drinking in your expressions, feeling your pleasure in the back of his head like a light going off- some big realisation happening inside of him as he gives you what you crave.

"In truth," Billy utters, "I want to own you."

He feels you clench around his tail.

Your breath stutters.

"I've found myself tied to you for a very long time. I'm at your mercy. At your service. Anything you want, I provide- and the concept of it makes me so fucking angry."

You blink, trying to focus.

"Bill-" You start to say but his palm swiftly covers your mouth, and you huff through your nose, raising a hand to cup his, not attempting to pull him away just yet.

"Not angry at you, angry at the entire system that put me here in the first place." He looks away, and after a few moments he confesses, "You're the one thing that's good about this."

He looks at you again, and then leans in, moving his hand out of the way so that he can press his lips to yours. His tail stills inside of you, pressing in deeply, you try to focus- to return his kiss- but when his tail shifts upward, you let out a sharp cry against his lips as he touches an incredibly sensitive spot inside of you.

Your body shakes, your eyes widen in shock.

"There it is." He says, as if he was looking for this spot inside of you all along.

Too desperate for the pleasure, you open your mouth to speak.

"If it's ownership you want, then it's yours." You say, watching his eyes flash bright red for a second.

"Own me."

A low sound leaves his chest, and then his mouth is on yours again, and his tail begins to fuck you earnestly.

You cry out against his lips, and he takes the opportunity to delve his rough tongue into your mouth. Your breath catches, feeling absolutely consumed by him, fucked by his tail, invaded with his tongue until there's nothing left that you wouldn't give.

"Prove to me that I own you," he murmurs against your lips, "and cum for me."

You nod eagerly, as his tail moves faster. He dips his head to lick against your neck, one hand trailing down to press one of your peaked nipples between his thumb and forefinger.

You shudder. Your body no longer feels like yours- only a toy for him to manipulate whichever way he likes.

A loud sound breaks past your throat, you tilt your neck to give him more place to work. His lips continue to suck and torment at your shoulder, until you feel the pleasure of his touch grow to be too much for your body to contain.

You entire body pulls taut, one hand grips the sheets, the other holds his wrist, your breath lingers in your chest as you stop breathing.

Your back arches off the bed when you come.

It's like some large explosion going off in your head, your vision goes white, pleasure sparks down your spine, and your very thinking unspools as your orgasm moves through you.

You're gone for a moment, floating somewhere very far away, unable to get back to your body no matter how hard you try.

"Shhh, relax, mistress, I've got you." You hear him say, and you allow yourself to float peacefully, with the knowledge that you're cared for above all else.

When you come to, you're pressed tightly against him. You take a deep breath, your vision swims for a moment before it focuses. His tail, now clean, is wrapped around your thigh, you cunt tingles and aches, throbs in bliss at being used so well.

"How long was I out?" You ask him.

"Couple of minutes, that's normal." He says in an attempt to reassure you.

"How did you- I've never... come that hard before."

Billy hums in acknowledgement.

"You should expect a lot more of that." He says, and you feel your body pulse with excitement.

Your limbs feel heavy, your breathing slows, calmed by his closeness.

"I didn't make you cum." You say after a few moments, feeling his hot erection through his clothes, pressing against your thighs.

"That's alright, it'll go away."

You frown.

"That's not what I want." You challenge.

"No?" He asks.

You fight the exhaustion, sitting up, and turning to look at him.

"No." You say, leaning down to kiss him.

He hums against your mouth, and then stiffens in surprise when your hand drifts downward to cup his straining erection.

"Want you in my mouth." You say decisively, reaching for the button of his pants to undo it.

You get his pants off with only a little difficulty, and then tug his boxers off too. He doesn't do much more than shift his hips when necessary, to get them off.

And then it's just you and his cock.

Big... too big.

He'd never fit all the way in your mouth, you may have to use your hands like you've seen in porn, but you're determined, eager to feel him come undone below you.

You pause, looking up at him. He looks flushed, propped up on his elbows to get a better look at you, eyes and cheeks tinted red until you're sure he's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. Even his chest is coloured with an undertone of pink, flushed and eager for you.

Precum dribbles from the head of his cock, large and mouthwatering and before you lose your nerve, you lean forward.

He hisses when your tongue makes contact with the tip of his cock. Salty precum coats your tongue, your eyes meet his as you savour his taste.

His lips are parted, the sheets clenched in his fists on either side of his body. You smile at his reaction, leaning down to kiss his cock.

He groans, low and primal and you get the idea that he's barely contained, ready to rip at the seams at any given moment.

You think about all the amazing things he's done for you, and you don't hesitate to suck the smooth tip of his cock into your mouth.

He fills your mouth easily, you press lower until you're at your comfort limit. You can hear his shallow breathing above you.

With a new thought in mind, you raise your head.

He looks at you, and you look at him, and before he can utter a word of question, you reach for his hand, gently running your fingertips over his clenched fists before pulling at his wrist.

He releases the sheets and allows you to pull his hand up until his hand is cupping the back of your head.

"Can you help me?" You ask softly, and his eyelids fluttering while he blinks is the only indication that he's heard you.

You give him a gentle smile, sinking lower once more.

It's slow and deliciously sinful, he keeps a steady hand on the back of your head while you suck his cock, enjoying the delightful sounds he makes.

When you feel confident enough, you wrap your free hand around his cock and begin stroking him to the slow pace of your mouth.

"Fuck, you're so good at this- I don't deserve it." You hear him say, which makes you raise your head to speak.

"Of course you deserve it, Billy, you're such a good demon for me."

He closes his eyes with a groan, and you let out a breathy laugh, dropping your head once more.

You keep going slowly enough, until your jaw starts to ache, something you hadn't realised would happen.

You do your very best to ignore the ache, trying to focus only on the taste of his veined cock and smooth tip.

You begin to move faster, keeping the pace of your hand in time so that you can pleasure as much of his shaft as possible.

"You're amazing mistress, fuck."

Billy's head tips back, gasping for air as pleasure assails his senses. Your mouth on his cock had been everything he'd ever dreamed of and hoped for. The inside of your mouth was soft and hot and your tongue- holy fuck your tongue was going to kill him.

Worst of all was when you took him a little too deep and you gagged a little around the head of his cock. He could feel your throat contract around him, it had made him feral to own you. He'd resisted thoughts of gripping your head and fucking your mouth, saving the filthy thought for later, knowing that he'd get everything he wanted in time.

Billy's eyes roll back in his head, he's so close, all because of you, and your sweet smiles and your perfect mouth and he couldn't get enough of you if he tried.

"Close." Is all he can find the strength to say, and then he feels your efforts double down.

He groans when he feels you speed up, and you're desperate and eager to feel him explode in your mouth that you hyperfocus only on his cock.

You feel his abdomen tighten, and the muscles on his thighs contract, his hand holds fast to the back of your head.

There's a low groan, and you take his cock all the way into your mouth as he comes.

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to make yourself as comfortable as possible as waves of his cum flood your mouth.

You swallow as much of it as you can, but inevitably, some slips out of your mouth.

You pull up with a gasp when his cock stops pulsing, looking up at him and finding his head tilted back, his chest heaving.

You can feel something warm settle in your head, a fog that relaxes you, soothes your soul, and you can't help the need to clean all of his cum.

You take your time, licking his shaft, seeing him raise his head to look at you in surprise as you begin cleaning him up. His cock hasn't softened at all, and you moan in delight, swirling your tongue over his tip to catch the last bits of his cum.

"I think I love the way you taste." You murmur, looking up at him with hooded eyes. He takes your chin into his palm, tilting your head up to look into his eyes.

"Are you okay?" He asks softly, his eyebrows drawing together in concern.

"Yes. Your cock is massive and delicious." You try to explain.

He sighs, tilting your head from side to side, examining something you can't see.

"Your pupils are blown wide." He comments, concern lacing his voice.

"Can I kiss you? Are you one of those guys that doesn't like to be kissed after a girl sucks you off?" You ask as if he hasn't spoken.

The corner of his mouth twitches, amused.

"You can kiss me anytime you please, mistress."

"Yay!" You cheer, leaning up to press your lips to his.

You moan into his mouth, kissing him softly, savouring the way your naked body feels sliding against his.

"I'm not afraid of you." You whisper aloud in realisation, that this is probably the most intimate you've ever been with another person and having him here didn't scare you. You knew he wouldn't try anything, or force you in any way, that you could just be you, without needing to guard yourself from him.

His hands trace your spine, squeezing gently at your body when the exhaustion finally hits.

You huff out a sigh, tucking your head into the crook of his neck, rubbing your cheek against his stubble every now and then.

You head is still hazey, and you're not too sure why, but you don't focus on it at all.

"Your cum tastes amazing," you mumble sleepily to Billy, who has tilted back on the bed to allow you to rest on his chest while you drift off.

"So you've said." He hums.

"I need to taste you again when I wake up." You sigh against his chest, feeling his hand pause for a moment while rubbing your back, only resuming his soft motions when you make a sound of complaint.

You lick your lips, feeling his tail wiggle it's way to wrap around your thigh, smiling softly as sleep overtakes you.

Billy had never had a mistress before, definitely not one he was attracted to. Yet he had the sneaking suspicion that his cum had drugged you in some way. No one had mentioned that being possible, and he racked his brain to remember the last time he'd been sucked off.

Nothing came to mind.

Had the last time he'd been treated this way really been when he was alive?

He swallows, figuring that eternal damnation definitely didn't intend to come with blowjobs this good.

You shift in your sleep, muttering about peaches, your breasts are fitted snugly against him, and he sighs in bliss. He can feel the soreness in your jaw through his bond, and he rubs your jaw softly, his fingertips glowing purple as he soothes your ache. The ache you had from sucking his cock.

He pauses, thinking for a second that he should have left your jaw sore- a reminder to you that you had him in your mouth, but then guilt fills him- he didn't want you in any pain.

Billy blinks, wondering about his feelings, and not surprised at the conclusions he comes to about himself.

.

.

.