#like BOY. you are missing FLESH. that is a hole I can stick my finger into!

[mycological-mariner]

My brother’s just left. Not feeling great bout it, perla because yes he’s my brother and I’ve missed the fucker, mainly because he’s just left with an infected leg.

Couple of days ago he had to change the dressings on it. And I’m thinking it’s a cut or a nasty scrape like he’d said. So, as Im cutting squares of bandage (already kinda sus for a cut), he rolls up his pant leg and There. There is a chunk of flesh missing. Boy had a hole in his flesh and was like “Just a cut that got a little infected, no worries!” YES WORRIES. I HAVE MANY WORRIES WHY IS YOUR FLESH GONE, WHITE BOY????

[ererokii]

Sooo... This request thing. You're aweosme 👉👈

Ooh boy it's a long one (changed it a bit)

-Erens so cute when he purrs and when you mention his curiosity and twitching ears ears and gentle touch, so as not to hurt the reader.

-when he kinda is paying attention to, analysing the reader or protecting them its SO cute

-It would maybe end as like cuddles and things and just... Talking. To him and him grunting or just nodding or thinking replies.

-Maybe be at night.

-Maybe it would start with... Eren In human form.

-Maybe he figures out that you don't think his titan form is so ugly but still a little new and scary and that maybe you like it

- Bam if you can somehow NSFW that... Uhmm?

So he... Turns into a titan and then. Some NSFW or just. Maybe he like. Scares or teases the reader on purpose for a reaction?

-And then NSFW somehow if you wanna put that in. Sorry for the way I type I'm kinda doing it as it all appears in my head lol

-I like your cute, and desperate eren, but also attentive and caring. I haven't seen you write a very cheeky or playful titan eren so maybe that would be nice.

I REALLY ENJOYED WRITING THIS ONE. Here you monsterfuckers, take your TITAN SMUT.

WARNINGS: MONSTERFUCKING. Oral (f receiving), mention of voyeurism, overstimulation, dumbification, multiple orgasms, edging, characters are 18+.

If these themes make you uncomfortable or you rather avoid, please block the tag “AOT SMUT” WC: 1.7K

Also thank you to the amazing @galair for this beautiful art🥺 everyone go check her out

Eren stays deep within his thoughts as he hums to himself, staring up at the starry sky. His loose strands tickle the shell of his ear, itching to scratch away at it but refuses. He can’t recall the conversation before the silence. It’s always been on his mind, but he’s been inquisitive as to what you saw him as, even if he knew the answer.

Am I a monster to you? Or am I just like you?

You knew Eren was quite insecure with himself when it came to his titan powers; no matter how many times he asked you that, you always gave him the same answer.

You were never a monster; you’re just a broken human like me. 

For some reason, that has never failed to put a smile on his face. Being able to categorize himself with humans made him feel complete, separate from the monster people used to call him when he discovered the powers. 

But know that he’s aware (once again) of how you feel, does he scare you?

Maybe he could ask you--, but he doesn’t want to ruin the mood at all. Now that he thinks of it, he can’t recollect a moment where you’ve seemed scared to be in his presence, unlike other comrades who look like they’ll leak themselves any moment. 

Without even thinking, he blurts out the question. His eyes widen slightly when he realizes the words slipped past his lips.

“Am I scared of your titan form?” you ask, glancing over at him as you sit up, staring down at him from your position. “I mean, it is always somewhat overwhelming to see something so much bigger than me, and when I sit in your hands but no, besides that, I'm not.”

“Do you think it’s ugly?”

“I don’t,” you say with a smile, legs crisscrossed. “I think it’s unique. You know, just for you. I think it’s quite cute and--” you trail off, glancing over to the side. “--somewhat hot,” you cough in between words, hoping he missed that.

“Hot?” he asks, a hint of smugness evident in his tone.” You think it’s hot?” he leans up on his elbows, a smirk curled at his lips. “Why is that?”

“W-Well, I’m not going to tell you that! That’s too personal.”

“What if I turned right now?”

“Y-You can’t! Captain Levi and Hanji would come to chew you out if you did!”

“Hanji gave me the go-ahead to transform whenever I wanted to, just not to cause destruction,” he gets up with a grunt, backing up a few feet back. By the time he was in position before you could speak, lightning struck the earth, the ground crumbling from the shock. 

You dug your fingers into the ground, lowering your head from the gusts of wind. In no time, it calmed down as you avert your gaze upward, emeralds stare down at you from high above, brown tresses swooshing in the air. 

“You did,” you breathed out, releasing your grip on the dirt. Your hands are unsteady, still trying to compose yourself from the sudden change.

He’s not moving, standing as still as a statue before he drops to his knees, the birds sound asleep in the trees now awake and flying away from the commotion. Your heart feels as if it could burst from the confinements of your chest. 

Your left eye peeks open, cowering within yourself. Your body freezes when you see how close he is. His body is lowered to the ground; knees pushed in like a Sphinx. His eyes glow in the darkness, a new feeling taking over your body. 

His heavy breathing fans over your face, his head cocked to the side as if he was examining your small figure. He finds humor in your expression, nudging your body with his nose.

From the small force added, it caused your body to get pushed back. His ears twitch, the tips sticking upward. He moves forward, doing it once more.

“Eren, quit it,” you huff, sticking your arms out to keep him from doing it again-- which he’ll end up doing too. There’s no doubt that in that nape, he’s having the time of his life. 

He wonders what else he can do like this. He thinks for a minute, noises emitting from his throat. He sticks one of his hands out, shakily raising a finger, and places his hands in between your legs. 

He catches your gaze, his tongue peeking as he leans forward, barely pressing the tip against the bare skin of your neck. The new sensation causes your breath to hitch in the back of your throat, eyeing the pink flesh before gulping lowly.

Eren pulls away, looking at your skirt that happened to ride up your legs. His eyes seem to darken as his mouth closes, teeth grinding against each other. 

“Eren?” you question him as he inches closer, his head lowering slightly to the ground. You’re about to call for him again, but his tongue makes an appearance also, pushing the material up more. Your eyes enlarge, fingers curling around the fabric of your shirt-- to which looks like fear in his eyes. 

A noise of somewhat sadness comes from him, his ears lowering. 

“N-No, it’s okay, Eren,” you stutter, face heating up from his motions. If you were honest, you could feel a small wetness pool in between your legs. 

Before you know it, the tip of his tongue is in between your legs, the muscle lapping over your clothed cunt. Your arms are shaky as you let out a little gasp that sounds so cute to his ears; he can’t help but circle it around your clit. 

A predatory look is in his eyes, looking down like you were his meal. The muscle goes sound, poking at your slicked entrance. Panting, you glance down at the position and pull your panties aside, shivering from the chilly wind and hot breathing in between your legs. 

His jaw slacked; he works wonders on your needy cunt. The texture and saliva are enough to make you sensitive on the spot. Your eyes roll back as you chant his name, his tongue licking stripes up and down your folds, squelching noises occurring from his rapid movement. 

Your legs are shaking from the overwhelming sensation. God, it’s becoming too much, but you can’t stop him, nor if you wanted to. You felt as if you would fall to the depths of the earth but yet stayed in reality. 

The tip flicks at your folds, an incoherent noise getting stuck in the back of your throat when he begins to move it side to side rather than up and down. 

You’re so needy for him at this point. You want him to stuff your tight cunt with his cock, to feel him stretch you out as he fucks you to no end. Having him do this to you was on another level of ecstasy, but you would accept it if this came up again. 

The pressure he puts on your fragile body is enough to send you backward, but the way your heels dig into the ground and his gentle touches prevent that from happening. The slick left in between your thighs trickle down to your ass; the feeling becomes uncomfortable but erotic. 

“Fuck baby,” you whisper, head falling back, staring up at the sky with lidded eyes. “Fuu..p-please don’t stop,” you slur, thoughts clouding with nothing but immense pleasure.

God, what if someone caught you? The adrenaline running through your body wouldn’t even let you care about that. But the thought of someone hearing you moan out pathetically as Eren licks away at your cunt, have you moaning out. 

You wouldn’t be surprised if someone overheard. Eren’s tongue was a gift that meant to be cherished, even if that meant having him do this every day for you to get used to the sticky yet warmth radiating from the muscle.

The inside of your legs trembles, your head spinning in circles, rubbing small lazy circles on your puffy clit, desperate to be touched by his tongue. Your hole was being circled, his tongue barely pressing before retracting; the little shit was teasing you. 

One of his fingers gently places over your leg to keep you from moving so much. His finger alone is enough to make you feel weighed down. 

Your lips are moving, but nothing is coming out; no noise, no words. You’re completely out of it. Your fingers are clenching and unclenching around nothing, barely holding onto whatever it was you were. If someone were to ask you what day it was, you wouldn’t be able to tell the time of day or where you were at. 

“ ‘M gonna cum,” your voice comes out soft yet needy, shifting your hips side to side, bucking your hips to the best of your ability. “I wanna cum on your tongue.”

His eyes flicker, a stripe licked up between your folds before resting on your clit-- a place that desperately needs attention. 

Your delicate body is on the brink of defeat; an orgasm after orgasm washes over your body, and he shows no signs of stopping. You’re practically gushing at this point, your juices running down his jaw. You’ve made many feeble attempts to push him away; a growl would emit from him when you tried to do so. 

Sweat trickles down your face into your clothes, causing the front of your shirt to stick onto your skin—short breaths of air, hiccups erupting from your throat. Your eyes roll back as your body finally gives out, falling backward onto his hand that was keeping you upright. 

As you fall, a purring sound reaches your ears as his tongue finally retracts from your mess cunt, his eyes glancing at your slick sticking to you. His finger rubs the inside of your thigh, gently wiping away the transparent substance. His ears flicker as he listens to your heavy breathing, trying your best to catch the air that was taken away from you. 

He lovingly nuzzles his nose against your patella, his dark tresses tickling your supple skin. After being pushed through multiple orgasms, you weren’t even sure if you could walk or get up from this position. 

But he finally got his answer as to why you thought he was hot. 

Taglist: @trafalgar-temptress @galair @shisoaya @eremiie @bakuhoesworld @sweetdanibear @blueelionn @grabakitcata @erenstellar @onyxoverride @vinishsama @cellarhapsodos @connieswifey @murmikaa (please message me to be added!!)

[wonderfilworld]

remus lupin pretending he’s sick so he can miss lessons but then giving you head under your desk under the invisibility cloak

a/n: i’m sorry it took me so long to do this, lol. this is probably shorter than you wanted it to be, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. 

warnings/contains NSFW!! smut, exhibitionism - no ones watching them but it’s in public, oral fem receiving. probably more so please let me know!! as with every fic I write of the boys at Hogwarts, everyone is 18+

Remus who said he wasn’t feeling well this morning. Remus who you noticed had the mischievous glint in his eye as you gave him a confused look, eyeing him suspiciously as you let out an unconvinced “Okayyyy.” 

Remus who surprised you in the library as you felt his breath ghosting along the insides of your thighs as you tried to study. 

It makes you jump, bottom lifting off the seat as you feel the heat of Remus’ mouth. You almost shout, but your boyfriend decides to show himself then, lifting the hood of the invisibility cloak he borrowed from James and flashing his pearly whites. 

You gape at him; he’s situated under the desk, between your legs as they tremble due to his hot breath and brazen actions. 

“What are you doing?” You whisper sharply at him. Your eyes are still wide and your breathing is heavy. You look around you - no one is near your table and it’s almost exam time so no one is paying attention to you anyways. 

You go to push Remus’ head away from the apex of your thighs, under no circumstances are you going to get aroused in a fucking library. 

“Just keep studying, baby,” He whispers back before he yanks the hood back over his head until he’s hidden from your view once again. 

Your skirt slowly bunches up along your thighs before it’s pulled over Remus’ head that you can feel getting closer and closer to your center. 

“Are you crazy?” You ask, glancing around once again. Your resolve is weakening; you know that Remus wouldn’t do this if he was really worried about getting caught; he’s a prefect for fucks sake - he can’t risk ruining his reputation now can he? 

“Shhhh,” You hear coming from him. 

It’s weird, you can’t see him but you can feel him, rubbing a finger up and down your clothed slit. You whimper, bringing a hand up to cover your mouth and bite the flesh there. He’s too good at this; at teasing touches that leave you a whining mess. 

You hear him shush you again, and you try your best to stay silent as you feel him hook his fingers into the side of your panties and shift it to the side. 

And obviously, you’re going to gasp as you feel his tongue slide through your cunt, starting at your leaking hole and up to your throbbing clit. You want to bring your hand down to his head, to card your fingers through his hair like you normally do when his face is between your legs, but considering your current situation you know that’s not an option. 

So you stick to biting your hand to muffle your whimpers, using your other to flick through the pages of a textbook to at least try to look like you're doing your work. 

And it’s not like it matters if a couple whimpers leave your throat because you can hear the slurps from Remus’ mouth as he licks and sucks along your pussy. He’s always so dirty with it - eats it like he’s starving and it’s great for you; you’re always left satisfied, but it’s not great for your current situation where you're hyper-aware of the fact that there are other people in the same room as you. Albeit they’re not close, it doesn’t stop the way you close your thighs around his head as tight as you can to muffle the sounds. You’re sure he can barely breathe, but he really doesn’t seem to care as he just digs deeper into your folds, tongue circling your clit feverously, flicking the hardened nub so fast you're shaking in your seat. 

You try to lift your hips, wanting to follow his tongue as it ventures down your cunt and inside your tight hole, your eyes shut tightly as your mouth drops open. You drop your head onto the desk and to anyone else, it would just look as if you’re frustrated with the material you’re trying to master. 

When in reality it’s your boyfriend tongue fucking you, his thumb rubbing fast circles on your clit as he entices you to release into his mouth. 

You don’t dare ignore him - lifting your hips as your cunt spasms around his tongue. You feel his groan as he does so, licking into you faster as the saccharine taste of you fills his senses. 

Once your breathing slows, Remus pulls away and you lean back in your chair, meeting his eyes as he draws back the hood of the cloak. 

“Come to my room,” Is what he tells you before he disappears once again. 

Exhaling slowly, you gather your belongings, stowing them away in your bag before standing up and pushing your chair back in its place, and on shaky legs, you make your way to your boyfriend's room.

taglist: @crazypantlady @hufflepuffsfordraco @eunoia-kth @marimorena06 @juulico @sunshine-weasley @partr1dge @xtoothlessx @zsbxbyslotsz (if your name is crossed out it wouldn’t let me tag you!) if you’d like to be added to my taglist, fill this out. 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Of something beautiful, but annihilating🚬5/end

Warnings: nonconsensual touching, fingering, deceptive behaviour, allusions to abuse, blood, violence/death, fucking.

This is dark!fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Note: Another finale! Hahahhaa, hope you like it!

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

You went to bed with shame burning in your cheeks but the heat quickly travelled to your loins as you thought of the scene at the drive-in. When you closed your eyes, you felt Arvin’s weight on you and his hand between your legs. You rolled onto one side, then the other, tossing and turning as you couldn’t escape the memory or the lingering sensation of his touch.

He was already downstairs when you woke up, a lazy Saturday morning as the garage was closed for the weekends. He was at the counter, boiling water for the coffee as you came down in a plain peach dress and flats. He looked over his shoulder and smiled at you, urging you to sit.

“I’m gonna make you breakfast, honey,” he announced as he filled the coffee press, “you know, my ma was a waitress. Worked down at this greasy diner when she met my dad. Before she died…” he stopped and his throat bobbed, “I dunno, I just remember the smell of her cookin’.”

“I’m sorry, Arvin,” you said as you took a seat at the table, “about your mother.”

“Why? It was so long ago, I hardly remember,” he shrugged as he searched the cupboards and pulled out the cast iron pan, “you know, I can barely even see my pa in my mind. Even when I really think. I feel like I’ve lived a dozen lifetimes already.” He put the metal to the burner, “but I think I found the one I want.”

You ran your fingertips along your throat nervously as you leaned your elbows on the table. You felt the void left by your missing wedding ring. You clapped your hands together and lowered them to the wood.

You watched him work in the kitchen. When you tried once to get up and help, he bid you back down tersely and you obliged. You felt restless sitting there as someone else did everything. He put a cup of coffee before you and sipped from his own between flipping the eggs.

Finally, he presented you with a plate of hash, egg, toast, and bacon. You thanked him as he sat and you picked up your fork and knife. You weren’t very hungry, the anxiety squeezed your stomach as you watched his hand. He buttered a slice and you recalled the tingle as his fingers sank into you.

You dropped your fork and apologised for the loud clang. You picked it back up and pushed the potato around. You were trying to think of what to say. Of how to say it. Arvin wasn’t volatile like Roy but he showed glimmers of anger that troubled you nonetheless.

“Last night…” you began.

“You liked it?” he perked up and swallowed, “I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“Arvin,” you uttered.

“I just… you’re so wonderful and warm, I never known a woman like you,” he ranted, “and I… I never been with a woman, you know? I hope I didn’t leave you wanting--”

“Arvin,” you said more firmly, “I’m married.”

His face fell and he leaned back in his chair. He looked down as he scooped up some egg and hash and shoved it in his mouth. He chewed tight-lipped. His steely silence was worse than any punch. You shoved some yolk in your mouth and chewed.

“I…” you began, “I’m not meaning to upset you but we can’t just pretend--”

A deafening bang sounded and shook the house. Your breath caught as you looked at Arvin with wide eyes and he cleared his throat as he stood.

“Where is ya, boy?” Roy hollered as another blast came and you heard the door jolt. You rose and looked down the hall as slivers decorated the floor below the holes peppered in the wood. “I heard about you and my wife…” footsteps clamoured up the steps of the porch, “you think you can pull a gun on me? Well, I got a bigger one, boy!”

“Shit,” Arvin pulled you back as another gunshot blew out the handle, “go, hide.”

He shoved you away and turned back to the table. He tossed the butter knife and hurried to the counter. He pulled out a drawer and took out a steak knife. He shook his head and glanced over at you again.

“Go on,” he snarled.

“No, you,” you ran to him and touched his arm, “go, I’ll talk to him--”

“He’ll kill you,” he whispered.

“No, he won’t,” you assured, “he woulda done it years ago, Arvin, go.”

You pointed him to the back door and he shook his head. You met his eyes as he glanced back at you and you nodded. 

“It’ll be fine, I’ll get him gone and come find you when he goes,” you promised, “Arvin, I can’t see you die because of me.”

His eyes searched your face and he touched your cheek. “Alright, honey,” he breathed, “you know I’ll do anything for you, don’t you?”

“Go,” you insisted as the door flew inward with a heavy kick.

Arvin scrambled away and the back door creaked in his stead as you turned to near the doorway and peer past the staircase. Roy kept the double barrel level as he pointed it at you. You quivered but tried not to show your terror.

“Roy,” you greeted through your tight throat.

“You whore,” he cocked the gun and you flinched, “I oughta shoot your fuckin’ head off too, but I just want the boy. Where is he?”

“I… I dunno, he just went out front, I thought you woulda seen him,” you lied as you filled the doorframe with your body, realising the table set for two would give away your deception.

“Don’t you be hidin’ him from me, you’re still my wife,” Roy snarled as you came closer, trying to keep him from the kitchen, “and I’m gonna put down that punk and remind you who I am. Who you are.”

“I am your wife, Roy,” you said evenly, “I can never forget that, now please, lower the gun, I’ll help you find him.”

“I ain’t believe you, you let him beat me--”

“What was I supposed to do?” you touched the metal muzzle, “he been keepin’ me here. He has a gun too, you know that.” You slid past the barrel and hesitantly reached to touch his chest, “I been so scared without you here, you’re my husband, Roy, and I love--”

He sputtered and flinched suddenly. The gun sagged and fired into the floorboards beside your shoes. The metal slid from his grasp and fell down smoking as a red splotch stained the dingy fabric of his shirt. The cascade spread as he staggered and you saw the wooden handle of the steak knife stick out from his side.

Arvin pulled the blade out as you tripped over the gun and toppled to the floor. Roy slumped to his knees as the younger man brought the knife down over his shoulder and sank it into his heart. Your lungs puffed with panic at the sickly crunch as the blade twisted between his ribs.

Your eyes widened and blurred with tears as bitterness filled your stomach. You opened your mouth and screamed as Roy fell onto his stomach and gasped out his last breaths. You felt a slickness on your cheek as a hand touched you and an arm wrapped around you. You blinked and Arvin came clear as he held the knife against your face and pulled you into his lap to cradle you.

“Wh--wh--wh--” you babbled as your eyes found your husband, completely still across the floorboards.

“He can’t hurt you no more,” Arvin cooed as he rocked you, “I heard him, he said he was gon’ shoot you. I told you, honey, I’ll do anything for you. Anything to keep you safe.”

🚬

The porcelain was cold against your body as you sat in the tub, the hot water slowly rose around you. Arvin shoved your bloody clothes in a bag and took off his own. He tied up the sack, his hands still tinged scarlet. He put the bundle in the sink and neared the wall of the footed tub.

You watched him step over the side, his stomach tightly muscles, his figure much more slender than Roy’s, though his arms were thick and his shoulders wide. He lowered himself across from you as he sat with his back to the flowing faucet. The water deepened and scalded your skin.

He took a cloth and scrubbed your face, your neck, your chest above the surface of the water. You were numb as you felt itchy, as if bugs crawled over every inch of flesh. He stood you up and finished washing you. He was gentle but firm, lingering around your curves as his brown eyes drank you in.

He took a new cloth for himself and after wiping off the droplets across his face and rinsing his body, he scratched the red from around his nails. You shivered as he helped you out of the tub and hugged you in a towel. He led you to the bed and laid you down under the quilt.

“Gonna drive out and find a ditch,” he said as he dressed. “Finish cleaning when I get back. Probably need another bath then.”

You said nothing as you stared at the ceiling, a searing white.

“Honey,” he neared and pressed his hand to your forehead, “I know you’re shook. He tried to kill ya. We both heard him say it.”

You looked at him and your eyes dampened. He bent and pecked your lips and retracted his hand reluctantly.

“I’ll try not to be too long,” he promised and pulled on his denim jacket.

He left you and you listened to his footsteps fade. You closed your eyes and saw Roy’s blood spilling forth like a tainted river. You could hear the scraping as he was dragged across the wood, Arvin’s grunts as you watched him struggle to roll your husband’s large body in a sheet.

Your lashes flicked open but the picture is painted vivid in your mind. You hear the car and the engine fades into the soft sway of trees and the noise of critters in the grass. You don’t have the strength to do more than lay there. Time passes by your stagnant eyes and the shadows set in from the corner of the room. The windows darkened and deepened your gloom.

Arvin startled you as he appeared at the door. You didn’t hear the approach of his car or his footsteps on the stairs. He neared and kissed you again. He pulled the chain on the lamp and it cast a yellow haze over you.

“You’re awake,” he said as he stood straight, “I needa wash up again.” You hummed and stayed as you were, “you want tea?”

You shook your head and he watched you. He clamped his thin lips together and backed away.

“Found his truck, just down the way,” he pulled his grey tee over his head, “looks like he drove out to the river, walked up here. Make sure it was seen so he can’t be traced up here. Smarter than he looked.” Arvin bent to untie his boots. “I left it in the water, put it into gear and let it drift off.”

You rolled onto your side and pulled the blanket to your ear. He quieted as you listened to the rustle of his clothing as he stripped it away.

“Anyhow, they won’t find him,” he said, “likely he told whoever, if anyone even cared, that he was goin’ fishin’.”

He waited for an answer but didn’t get it. He went into the bathroom and you heard the pipes rattle as he twisted on the faucet. You felt the dampness cross the hallway and seep into the room. When he returned, he gave a sigh and tossed his towel over the old chair sat by your vanity.

He folded the blanket back and you closed your eyes at his nudity. He slid in next to you and tugged the blanket over his shoulders. He circled his arm around you and brought your body against his. Suddenly, you felt everything as you were set alight by the heat of his flesh.

“Honey,” he said softly as he framed your face with his hand, “I’m here. You’re safe with me.”

You quivered and pushed your hands to his chest. You’d never been naked with another man, never seen another man naked. In the tub, you hardly figured what was happening but then, it was all too real as you felt his cock twitch against your thigh.

“Didn’t I save you? He would killed both of us,” he rasped, “honey, I know, I’ve met so many men like him…” he rubbed his nose against yours, “and killed every one of them.”

You winced and your fingers curled into his shoulders. He smothered you with a kiss as his hand trailed down and he cupped your chest. He groaned as he fondled you, tilting his hips to rub his dick against you. He rolled your nipple under his thumb as he dragged his lips down your cheek and chin.

His hand crept around your side as he slipped lower to nibble your breasts. Roy never touched you like that. Early on he was clumsy but impatient, and after a while, he was thankless and cruel. Arvin was gentle, doting and diligent. He suckled at your bud and the tugging plucked at your core.

“Mmm,” he left a path of spit down your stomach as he nudged you onto your back, “honey, you’re so beautiful,” he disappeared beneath the blanket and pushed your legs apart as he nuzzled your pelvis, his hot breath tickling your patch of hair.

He purred as nosed your cunt and his tongue dipped between your folds. You murmured and reached down to grasp his damp hair. You brought your thighs against his head and arched your back as he tended to you, slow and scintillating as he filled you with a yearning you’d never known before.

You didn’t think as you tangled your fingers in his locks and tilted your pelvis against his lapping. You shouldn’t feel this way, should feel so good. Your husband was dead and there was another man in your bed. You were a whore, just as he said. But it felt good and he wasn’t there to tell you again.

Arvin moaned as he devoured you, his hands hungrily groped your ass as he lifted you slightly from the bed. He pushed a finger against your entrance and eased into you. You gasped and he dipped another inside of you. He moved his hand in time with his mouth, his groans rumbling through you.

You hooked your legs under his arm and cried out as you came. Your body spasmed and jerked and you rode out the shattering ascent. You shook as you stilled and kissed your thighs with his wet lips, smearing your juices across your flesh. 

You panted as he pushed himself up and the blanket fell down his back, leaving both your bodies bare to the soft glow of the lamp. His hands roved over your body and he bent again, kissing every inch his fingertips danced over first. He brought his lips back to yours and you tasted the sweetness as he forced his tongue into your mouth.

He pushed his thighs to yours so your legs bent around them, wide and welcoming. He parted and stared down at you, his deep brown eyes swallowing you up.

“The moment I saw you, I knew,” he said as he caressed your cheek, “and I haven’t stopped thinking of this ever since that moment.”

“Arvin,” you sighed and touched his wrist.

“I’ll take care of you, honey,” he reached down between your bodies as he planted and elbow into the pillow. He ran his tip along your wet folds and his jaw clenched. “I’ll keep you safe, I’ll keep you…” he pressed against you until his tip was inside you, “forever.”

“Arvin,” you gulped and gripped his muscled arms, “I…”

“He’s gone,” he sank further into you and kissed you again, “and you’re mine.”

You moaned and he bottomed out with a gasp. His body tensed and he shuddered as he wiggled his hips.

“God, you’re so perfect,” he groaned, “so warm, so… sweet. Oh, honey.”

“Please…” you croaked as your eyes watered.

You didn’t know if it was the bloodiness of the day or that you’d never felt anything so pleasant, so gentle, so caring. You didn’t know why you were crying or why your body buzzed like cicadas under the moon. You pushed your head into the pillow as he pressed his fingers to your clit and rubbed in time with his steady thrusts.

“Honey,” he droned and kissed your wet cheek between each stroke, “oh, you’re so nice.”

He tilted into you over and over. You brought your legs around him and hooked your arms under his as you clawed at his back. Your body contorted with his as your eyes rolled back and you succumbed to the stolid heat coursing through your veins. You cried out and let your hands fall down as you groped his ass, begging for more.

The bed quaked as he grew more fervent in his appetite, the pain was dulled by the sheer bliss and you sang out your delight. There was nothing but his body and that radiating pulse in your core. You came again and again as you whined ravenously and dug your nails into his flesh.

He jerked into you with a fluttery breath. His hips stuttered and he fell limp over you. His head hung over your shoulder as he huffed. His cum coated your walls in a salacious heat and you ran your hands up his back. He turned his head to kiss your temples, tears still rolling down to your lobes.

As your nerves stilled and the afterglow dimmed, reality shrouded you once more. The body over yours felt heavier as you were paralysed against the bed. Arvin drew you with him as he rolled onto his side and held you. It was nice but tinged with the horror wrought by his hands.

You didn’t miss Roy but you didn’t feel free either.

🚬

Arvin rolled out the rug over the bloodstain in the hall, the whole covered over  with a thin board of scrap. You watched and clutched your purse then checked the clock. He stood and neared to fetch his jacket from the small square corner table. He pulled it over the button-up that once belonged to your dad and the tie that was Roy’s.

His hair was combed back tidily and he wore a carefree smile. His eyes twinkled as he offered his hand and gestured to the door. The frame was curtained with a sheet as the shredded wood was removed and another would be ordered from Tim’s Hardware. He clung to your hand as he followed you out into the Sunday sunlight.

“We don’t have to go,” you said as he swung your hand and led you to the Chevrolet, “I know you don’t like it.”

“Nah, we should go to church,” he smiled and spun you to kiss you. He held your face between your hands as his lips lingered overly long. “Let the lord and all the other holy people see me and my girl.”

“Arvin,” you shied away.

He reached past you and opened the door. You sat and he gripped the metal as he looked down at you.

“I will keep my hands to myself before the lord,” he avowed, “I only ask his blessing for what I know to be his work.”

You considered him and wrung the short strap of your purse, “I thought you didn’t believe in God.”

“I didn’t, not before,” he said with a smile, “not ‘til I met you. His most precious angel.”

You chewed your lip and turned your face down. He chuckled and closed the door. He got in the driver’s side and the engine rolled over. His hand wandered over to your lap as he steered with one hand. You looked out the window and stared up at the pale blue sky.

You didn’t believe in God. You couldn’t. Just like your father said, a benevolent lord would not gift such suffering to his creation. There was no all-knowing being sitting in the clouds, no glorious purpose for you or any other. There were only devilish men and their dark deeds.

[achillieus]

let you down. (sebastian stan x reader)

summary: it's a universal truth but it's worth repeating; feelings eat us raw. or just an actor and a girl falling in and out of love over the course of three months.

(this was inspired by sebastian's visit to greece for his movie, monday, and is based on that, so that means in the story we’re in 2018. also i have this posted on ao3 too but while i’m writing the last parts i thought of posting it here too)

pairing: sebastian stan x reader

warnings: alcohol, sexual references, implied depression, don’t kill me because of the ending, sebastian and reader are the definition of right person wrong time, it's kinda slowburn because i love the yearning, also this part has some funny moments but overall it’s a big SOB

part: 6/6 (there will also be an epilogue)

(other parts)   (masterlist)

This is how it ends: broken hearts from crashed dreams.

Sebastian holds you until his muscles ache and your lungs burn from the feeling of too little oxygen. It is cold and dark, almost midnight, too dark, a starless night.

No more stars for you and I.

“Here,” Voice hoarse, eyes heavy-lid and itching from almost crying. He gives you one of the rings he wore in the movie. “I want you to keep this.”

Keep it close to your heart. Forget me not.

He takes a breath and a step back, tries to regain all the strength he still has, steady feet and shoulders fixed. He digs his nails into his palms, red marks in his skin, air catching in his throat, he’s on the verge of falling but he stays standing.

He remembers tears glistening down his cheeks, maybe they were yours not his, and the cold autumn wind hitting his face and he remembers feeling like he’s dying.

And then he closes the door of Argyris’ car and looks at you.

And his heart stretches and stretches and stretches and then somehow splits in half.

/

It goes like this:

There’s a ghost that lives in your apartment from now on. In the living room. Sitting on the couch. And it has steel blue eyes and a familiar heart. And it whispers a love story, half-finished, and you cannot make it stop.

The ghost touches your collarbone and he’s gone but there’s a ring in a golden chain around your neck and a white shirt forgotten in your laundry. And it smells like him. The clinging scent of his aftershave sticking to your pores. Eucalyptus. And no matter how hard you try to wash it off, it still lingers.

How could I ever forget someone like you?

The ghost lives here, but the place is empty, so empty. And it’s hard not to cry.

/

Sebastian calls and texts a lot.

He tells you he’s tired but excited because he started filming a new movie. It’s very indie and experimental, I can’t wait for you to see it. He tells you he’s missing his days in Greece like hell and that one night he dreamt of you. Didn’t want to wake up. What he doesn’t tell you is that he’s coming back in a month, Argyris needs him for some extra scenes. It’s nearly killing him but he doesn’t tell you. He wants to surprise you, see the pure light in your eyes when they’ll meet his.

/

You try sexting. It doesn’t go very well.

23:50, sebastian: if you were here in my bed right now what would you be doing

06:51, you: probably falling asleep hahaha

06:51, you: oh fuck was i supposed to sext back

06:51, you: sorry seb i just woke up and i have a class in an hour, love you <3

23:52, sebastian: fuck timezones

/

(three weeks and 10 seconds later)

“I can’t believe she doesn’t know you’re here,” Argyris shakes his head as he’s driving home from the airport, “If I were her, I’d kill you.”

“Good thing I didn’t fall in love with you.”

Sebastian laughs and looks out of the car window. The stars. There are so many stars tonight. He holds his breath; he’s finally feeling whole again. His heart isn’t split in two anymore.

/

You don’t know how long you stand there at your door, staring at him, but it feels like a century before he grins, almost laughs, takes your hands in his and you start considering that perhaps this isn’t a hallucination. Perhaps it’s real.

“Surprise?”

Something inside of you bursts, your organs twitch. You can’t think, you can’t speak, but you can move. You don’t lose any more time, you take a step forward, attach your bodies, your face buried in his neck, your fingers clutching into the rough fabric of his jacket. You breathe him in like an antidote.

“How?”

“Does it matter?”

“No.”

You kiss him and it’s like poetry, like art, like honey and you can’t separate yourself from him, not even hours later.

/

(looking back, these were the golden days)

You pretending to be mad at him for not telling you he was coming back and him pressing his lips on your skin, drawing patterns on your naked shoulder. A feathery touch.

Sebastian always touches you like you’re something made of gold and porcelain, something cherished that constantly needs to be treasured. And nobody has done that before. And you love him for it.

You try to decorate your Christmas tree together. He messes with the lights for a while, eventually gives up and goes on to eat too many reindeer shaped cookies.

He massages your muscles when you write a boring essay for college.

You go with him when he has to shoot a “driving a motorcycle naked in the centre of Athens” scene and you bite the inside of your cheeks to stop smiling like an idiot.

He gives you a dress he bought for you in New York.  

“You didn’t have to.”

“I know, but I wanted to.”

He calls you sweetheart in the mornings, still half asleep and later joins you in the shower.

“Why are you so hot?”

“Climate change”

“Oh, shut up”

It’s tender and it’s soft and it’s human.

And that’s the saddest part.

/

Soon you realize that him leaving two months ago was merely a rehearsal and you still haven’t said your actual goodbyes. Your chest starts to feel as if it’s full of crushed glass.

And it’s ridiculous because you fell in love with Sebastian sometime between the first ten days you spent together.

Who falls in love in ten days?  

Ridiculous or not, you know you are in love with him just as you know that sooner or later, whatever he is feeling will fade and wither. Maybe it’ll be in a week, maybe it’ll be in a month, maybe in a year if you’re lucky. But there will definitely come a day when he will step out of a gala or a party or a fancy gym in New York with a beautiful model in his arms and two paparazzi’s following him around.

What will you be then?

A past small cameo in his life. A side character. Will he remember your name?

He is your whole world.

(a bottle of cheap prosecco helps you decide that)

He is your whole world.

And yet, there will come a day when he won’t even remember your name.

/

It was difficult. No, it was the most difficult thing you’ve ever done. Telling him how you think it’d be better if you didn’t talk after he leaves.

“I don’t agree with this.”

“Seb, it’s for the best.”

Your body doesn’t feel strong enough to carry your heart. And you’re certain it will only get worse once he’s away. The world around you will melt. You’ll obsess over a phone screen and his messages. You’ll start chasing ghosts again. You can’t handle that.

“Why?” He says urgently and his fingers dance over the flesh of your palms.

“Because this”, you motion your hand between the two of you, “is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever had in my life and I don’t want it to become ugly.”

He nods, he understands.

“I love you, you know,” he says smiling and tugs you closer to him, “And I may not be here to show you but I think I’ll love you for a long time.”

Your hand grips his waist right to the bones and something flares in your eyes, something wild that wrenches you around.

“I know, I’ll love you the same.”

“Maybe we’ll meet again.”

“Only if I’m the luckiest girl on the planet.”

He laughs and you look at him, fully aware he’ll be ripped out of your life like a page from a cheap leather notebook. And when you kiss for the last time, there’s a hole forming in your soul.

And just because endings don’t leave visible scars to one’s body and soul, that doesn’t mean the scars don’t exist. You know they do, because you feel the aching pain of every single one of them.

/

(every night when you close your eyes you see him)

(every night you look at the stars and think of him)

/

A month passes and Argyris asks you if you miss him.

“I don’t think I’ll ever stop.”

“He said the exact same thing.”

You tell him not to mention Sebastian again.

Two months pass and you need to stop stalking his instagram profile.

Three months pass and you almost text him.

Four months pass and you go to watch Endgame with some friends and you cry. You cry when Black Widow sacrifices herself and when Iron Man smiles at his wife while dying, and when Bucky Barnes appears on screen.

The others don’t understand and you don’t blame them.

Five months pass and Argyris’ girlfriend wants you to meet someone. A charming boy your age with blonde hair and a lip piercing.

And he's cute but you compare him to Sebastian even before he has the chance to say his name. His eyes are not the right shade of blue and he doesn’t look at you like you’re made of the world’s finest jewel.

And he doesn’t know any constellation names.

And then more than a year passes in a second and you learn to not look for him. Not anymore.

/

It’s early March 2020 and despite the rising fear of the upcoming pandemic, you’re doing well. Scars are starting to fade. And after spending two weeks in Prague, your best friend being there with an exchange program, Sebastian Stan is the farthest thing from your mind.

Until he literally comes crashing into you. At the airport.

No, it can’t be him.

You have your suitcase on one hand and a bottle of antiseptic gel on the other. He has two bodyguards on his sides and a black hoodie on.  And while half of his face is hidden behind a mask, you can see his eyes perfectly. A frozen lake in December. You would know those eyes in your deathbed, at the end of the world.

Your vision gets blurry and suddenly you feel cold.

He won’t recognize me, he can’t.

But then he looks at you and every memory you had buried inside of you resurfaces.

He motions to his guards to wait for him and he starts walking towards you. You breathe slowly, one breath at a time. He takes his mask off and you hesitate to take yours, not sure if you truly want him to see you.

You exchange the typical and very awkward hi, how are you, i’m glad you’re doing okay and then he smiles and it feels comfortable. Familiar.

It’s the whiff of another time that you always kept around. A reminder that you were once loved by a god.

“What are you doing here?”

“Filming Falcon and the Winter Soldier”

If you hadn’t unfollowed him on instagram, you’d known.

“Ah yes I heard about that, congrats.”

He nods a thank you.

“And you? In Prague?”

“I was at a friend.”

He looks conflicted, hurt, turns his gaze to his shoes on the grey cement. You want to say something, but you feel like throwing up.

And then he laughs.

“I was right.”

You’re confused, he notices.

“Back in Greece,” he swallows, “I told you this would happen.”

“It would have been an airport, different gates for each of us, but same waiting hall. Or a Greek island, where we’d both be for the summer.”

“I would have found you.”

You remember and you cannot help but smile. He was right. He found you.

“I didn’t believe you then.”

I barely believe you now.

He touches your hair. And his touch is like a knife. And you want to cry. Magnolias under your tongue. A love long lost is whispering in your ears until it hurts to listen. He’s like a magnetic field and you feel yourself drowning in him.

“I bet they’ll ask me a hundred questions about you later.” He says and looks at the two men waiting for him.

“And what will you tell them?”

“That you’re most probably the love of my life.”

Don’t cry, don’t cry.

“There’s no way we’d meet here if you’re not.”

“Sebastian,” His name sounds like a prayer coming out of your lips and you're ready to tell him you love him and you can swear he looks like he’s ready to faint, “I-”

The guards yell his name. And it's the same feeling people have just before a car crash.

“I’m sorry, I have to go.”

One last look.

Don’t cry, don’t cry.

You repeat it over and over again. But you fail.

“No, don't cry” He smiles, one last smile, “Just look at the stars and wait for us to meet again, because we will.”

He caresses the back of your palm for a second and you think your ribcage is shattering but it’s only your heart drumming frantically. Pushing your fragile bones to break. 

You want to stop him, wrap your arms around his torso, never let him go. Not again. But you don’t.

You just watch him leave, one more time, your knees weak, your head heavy and dizzy. For the split of a moment he turns and glances at you but then he’s nowhere to be seen.

Perhaps it was all in your imagination. Perhaps it was nothing but a wonder.

You get into your plane and you silently sob.

/

And then it’s summer.

And you overhear he was seen with a girl, the day before your vacation starts and you find a picture of them together a week later, a pretty blonde girl clinging to his side with a colorful bikini somewhere in Spain. And he’s smiling. And you feel so ashamed. And so stupid.

They say time heals all wounds but they must be wrong because you can’t forget how he used to smile at you or how he used to call you the love of his life.

Was he joking when he said you'll meet again? You bet if you asked him now, he wouldn't even remember saying it.

I’ll love you for a long time.

So long for nothing.

/

i really appreciate feedback, it motivates me tons and also tell me if you’d like to be tagged :) also i’m really sorry if you asked me to tag you and i didn’t  but i lost a lot of asks and the urls of the people that sent them :( 

tagging: @lharrietg @awkward117 @dannaloureen @broccoligf @cutestfangirlvevo @caitdaniels @arymb @buckybarnesishot310 @roguesthetic @itsaliceheree @sara-1705 @dorothea-hwldr @freshfreakoaftrash @drinkfantasy @christinamcdonnell ​@partypoison00 ​ @90ssantiago

[kyberheart]

A Deceitful Creation Part #1 -  Wolffe x F!Reader

Part #2

Summary: You’ve been trying for a while now to get pregnant with your lover. Knowing that may never happen, you ask for some outside help from Wolffe on the down-low...

Word Count: 1483

Warnings: 18+, piv sex, infidelity, pregnancy/trying for a baby, cursing, angst

A/N: Heyyyyyyyy.... I’m still here! I had some stuff going on this past week so I missed my Friday fic upload, but hey! It’s Sunday, only missed it by a few days so whatever. I’m still working on part #3 of my little Techy-boy story. Hopefully will be finished by Friday the 3rd! Heh... part #3 on the 3rd... perfect. ANYWAY I hope you like this little blurb I wrote. I wanted maximum sad with lots of OOF. I kept the summary and header as vague as possible to not spoil the end. Good luck in there!

(Ao3 Link if ya want it)

----------------------------------------------------------

Wolffe was different with you. All teeth and tongue and nails dug into the plump flesh of your thighs. The look adorning his eyes in this moment is akin to a knife’s edge; he was holding back as not to tear you to shreds.

Your lover on the other hand, well… he was the whisper of a cool breeze in the night. A cascading avalanche of stolen breaths and languid strokes. Completely and utterly tender with you.

“C-close Wolffe, almost…I’m—!”

He nods, stooping to kiss you, but swiftly retracts his head with a tiny scowl. He knew the rules. No marks that can’t be covered up, no pet names, and under no circumstances can he kiss you. This was just a mutually beneficial transaction. Nothing more, nothing less.

“I got you… I got you…”

He’s reaching down, down, down to make contact with your clit. You keen, dropping your head back into the mattress. He fucks you through your orgasm, spilling inside of you as your legs wrap tightly around his waist. You tremble under him as you come down from your high. In a blur of muscle-memory Wolffe is reaching behind you for a pillow. He props your hips upward with it, grinding into you a few more times to make sure his seed is in there nice and deep.

“If this isn’t the one, I’m not sure if I can help. Maybe what they say is true, maybe we’re all infertile. I mean, I’ve heard rumors of defectors running off and getting people knocked up, but…” He shrugs, pulling out of you to head into the ‘fresher. You sigh, staring at the grey ceiling above you. That really wasn’t the case. Some were infertile, yes. You knew that all too well…

“I’m headed out. I have a supply run to facilitate. You alright?”

Wolffe grunts as he snaps his scratched armor around himself. He wasn’t much for conversations after the act. Rather, he preferred to be on his merry way as fast as possible. It wasn’t so much to avoid catching feelings as it was to steer clear of talking. He was undoubtedly the most stand-offish of the clones you knew. You were often surprised at how easy it was to lure him into the bedroom with how hostile his demeanor could be. Though on second thought he was just a normal guy. Sex is just as fun for him as it is for others.

“Yeah, I’m good. Thanks Wolffe. If this one doesn’t stick I’ll leave you alone.”

He pauses to search your face. You smile at him, wrapping your arms around your chest with a sleepy yawn. A garbled message blips from his forearm, which he answers with a quick acknowledgement before seating his helmet onto his head.

“Understood. I’ll see you around. Say hi to my vod for me when he gets back.”

And with that, he’s silently leaving your apartment into the void beyond. In the silence of the room your mind wanders once more. You think of your lover. Where was he right now? Somewhere far, far away? Somewhere he was safe? Was he warm, fed, and happy?

The cool dribble of Wolffe’s cum down your thigh snaps you from your rumination. You glance at the clock, finding it’s already been twenty minutes since he’d left. More than enough time, you think. With a quick curl of your spine you’re up on your feet and heading to the ‘fresher for a nice long shower. Hopefully when you were out you’d have a comm or a message from your lover.

----------------- He hunches low, lips hovering so close to your ear his hot breaths could have burned a hole through your head.

“That’s it baby, such a good girl. Just a—oh, squeezing me so tight tonight, huh? This’ll be the one, the kriffing ONE. Gonna fuck you full, fill you up to bursting. Make you s-swell with my baby. Can’t wait to see you like that… all mine…”

You cum so hard the world around you dissipates into nothing but him. He growls, pitching you forward with his angled thrusts. His hips crush you into the bed as he cums right along with you. His amber eyes sizzle with freshly tapped desire. Whispered adorations mingle between the two of you, lost to the spinning darkness of the night. When you’ve calmed your heaving breaths, you reach up to grab one of the pillows above you. He helps you position it under your hips before kissing you roughly. Between pecks, he speaks with a heart full of gentle sweetness.

“I’ll keep doing this—you’ll see. We’ll have a little one running around before you know it. Our little adi’ka… yeah…”

His eyes grow distant, lips stilling at the nape of your neck. You huff, smacking his shoulder with your hand.

“I know babe, don’t worry. With how much you’ve been between my legs I think we’ll be having LOTS of them running around.”

You wink at him, leaning up to kiss him again. He chuckles, reciprocating your heavy prodding tongue with his own within your mouth.

“I just… I know we’ve been trying for over a year… what if I...”

You shoot him a frown, tilting your head up to look him straight in the eyes. The fact of the matter was daunting and sat like tepid acid on your tongue. If he knew he wasn’t able to sire children, it would truly break him.

“NO! You are perfectly fine the way you are. I’d know, remember? I’m chief medical officer here dummy. You—WE have nothing to worry about. It’ll happen when the time is right. Trust me.”

He smiles at you, the sight of which could warm even the frostiest planet of Hoth into the dunes of Tatooine. All your love, all your patience and turmoil and sympathy and curiosity and… kriff, you’re everything was him. All him, always was and always will be. Him.

-------------------- The vividness of your dream wakes you with a start. It seemed to be recurring the last few days, a memory of the last time you and your lover were together. You shake your head of the images that haunted you. If only he was home, you wouldn’t worry so much about him.

It had already been a few weeks since Wolffe had occupied your bed. A queasy feeling was beginning to settle low in your stomach. Your lover hadn’t been back in a long while, and you were starting to think something wasn’t right.

You rise to pee, realizing in the dimly lit hush of dawn that this was becoming a frequent occurrence for you. When your shirt brushes a bit too roughly against one of your nipples you yelp. Were they always so sore in the morning? Wait…

Could this be it? A surge of adrenaline hits you like a Hammerhead Corvette as you rush into the ‘fresher. Not long after, you have a small white strip laying on your counter. Your knee bobs with anticipation, head in your hands as you sit on the hard tiled floor. This might just be it!

As the lines swell in the tiny viewport, you force yourself to breathe as deeply as possible. The memory pushes it’s way to the front of your mind once more to taunt you, to make you feel a twinge of guilt at what you’ve done. With a groan you run your fingers soothingly through your hair. You knew you could do this. Joy, passion, and relief would pave over the deceit from which this baby would be born. Your lover would never know the truth, but it was unimportant in the grand scheme of things. Forging a life, a family for the two of you was all that mattered right now.

The time is up. The minutes counted down with bated breaths. A scream tears its way from your throat as you see the result:

Pregnant

Before you can have a full-blown excitement meltdown, a beeping from the other room draws your attention. Your comm sits on your nightstand, signaling you of an incoming message. The words flash on the screen as you wipe tears from your eyes:

Dropping in to save a Jedi Master on Lola Sayu. Don’t worry, should be home before your pretty little head hits the pillow. See you soon my love. My heart is yours, forever.

Oh, you were squealing with delight now. It was finally happening! For REAL! This was a dream come true. A baby… you were going to have a baby! And your lover was going to be home by the end of the day. You wanted to comm him, send him a picture of the test, yell it to the kriffing UNIVERSE that you were fulfilling a long-awaited dream. Both of you were. You calmed yourself, resolving to tell him in person when he got home.

You couldn’t wait until Echo was back!

[meat--grindr]

Ohh your writing is wonderful... I’ve actually never requested before so I hope get this right but: could I request Billy Lenz x Gender Neutral Reader (AFAB if it’s brought up) with Billy sucking on his partner’s fingers and discovering they are really, /really/ into it but also super embarrassed about it? Bastard-ness ensues. Hope this request is ok!

Okay? This is waaay more than okay! I’ve been so excited about this prompt since I received it! I’m so sorry for not getting to it earlier. I hope like six months later is better than never though! I’m also super excited to be your first request! I hope this lives up to your expectations, whatever they may have been!

Just a few general warnings beforehand: Billy is really rough with the reader he uses some extremely degrading language as per the canon (I’ve excluded the term ‘piggy,’ though, because I am NOT A FAN™ of that aspect of his dirty talk.) I want to specifically call to attention the liberal use of the terms ‘pussy’ and ‘cunt.’ The reader is never gendered with personal pronouns, but those words are used in reference to them and their anatomy several times. I am of the opinion that Mr. Lenz would use those terms regardless of what hole he’s using, but if they make you uncomfortable, maybe give this one a miss? Furthermore, I would like to mention that Billy is not a mentally well man (obviously) who has had a rather traumatic past with abuse, both of these are discussed within this fic, so please take care of yourselves and read this work responsibly if you want to read it at all. I don’t want anyone to be hurt by my writing because I didn’t warn them properly.

Also, this is my first time writing for Billy, so please forgive me if it takes a little while for me to get completely used to him. He’s a…unique fella, let’s say.

Editing Ripper’s Note: I was just about to post this when I realized I completely misread the prompt! I read it as the reader is really into sucking on Billy’s fingers, not the other way ‘round! I’ve been looking at this prompt, literally since December and still never caught on. I feel like a total idiot. I’m really sorry about that. I’ve decided to post this anyway because A) the kink is still there in the fic, just not exactly as requested, and B) I had already finished it by the time I noticed my mistake. So much time has passed and if the original requester is still keeping tabs on this blog, I don’t want to make them wait any longer. That being said, if you’d like me to write your request properly, please send me a message and I will do my best!

Mind Your Teeth – Billy Lenz (Gender Neutral* Reader) - NSFW

· Slick with sweat, your chest slides against the surface of your desk with each cruel snap of Billy’s hips. You can feel the laboured heaving of his chest against your back as he struggles for breath. It leaves his lips in ragged, staggering puffs, heavy and hot against your shoulder blade, accompanied every so often by the slick warmth of his saliva as it drips down onto your bare skin.

· Despite his gawky build, he manages to loom over you, folding you nearly in half against the desk. He’s made himself rather comfortable, sprawled over top of you. His chest presses against your back, boney ribs grinding against the knobs of your spine through the stiff, itchy fibers of his jumper. It’s sticking to your skin, soaked through in spots with sweat—yours and his—and you can feel it peeling up from your flesh with every movement he makes.

· He’s got you pinned, holding you down against the smooth wooden surface with little more than his weight. He’s surprisingly heavy, and though he doesn’t look it, Billy is a strong man—he’s more than capable both of lifting you off of the floor and pinning you down to it. He’s strong and his hands are by no means an exception to that rule. Though they may be long and thin, and they tremble whenever they hold you, his grip is nearly unbreakable. His clumsy fingers circle your wrists like iron fetters, dirty fingernails digging into the flesh of your forearms and cutting little crescents into the skin—just deep enough to sting. You can barely move beneath him—can barely breathe—and he knows this. He has you exactly where he wants you and you’re not going anywhere until he decides to let you.

· Another bruising thrust pitches you forward, and your knees bang against the desk drawers. You cry out, though whether it was for the dull ache in your legs or the sudden stab of pleasure between them, even you couldn’t say for certain. Though if there is any concern at all in Billy for your wellbeing, he’s certainly keeping it to himself. Your outburst only seems to egg him on, as his pace begins to take on a more frantic edge.

· His thrusts are shallow as he rocks into you—it’s as though he can’t bare to withdraw from the tight heat of your body for long. Dimly, through the fog of pleasure, you struggle to feel surprised. It’s all about instant gratification with Billy. Always has been—why should he tease himself or draw things out when he could just pry open your willing mouth and drag his cock against your tongue until he cums down your throat? Still, there is a force behind those thrusts—one which throws you up against the lip of the desk hard enough that you’re sure there will be a solid line of bruising along your midsection before the night is through. Every push of those hips shoves you forward a little more, until your head is nearly knocking against the wall and your toes barely touch the ground.

· Your cheek slides against a slick patch of wood and you realize you’ve been drooling across the desktop. The little puddle at the corner of your lips only grows in size as a particularly deep thrust from Billy wrings another string of wrecked whimpers from your throat. You wish you could pull away from the puddle—longing to drag the back of your hand across your cheek and wipe away the slickness, but there’s little you can do about it with Billy still holding your arms hostage. But at the same time, something about it thrills you—to be ruined like this—held still, unable to so anything but whimper, and drool, and take what you’re given. It’s…liberating.

· “C’mon, little bitch! Take my fat cock! You can t-t-take it better than that! Take it! Take-Take-Take it good for B-B-Billy!” He babbles into your shoulder, chapped lips scraping against your shoulder as he mouths at your flushed skin. His tongue flickers out, dragging a wet stripe against your skin, scorching hot, then suddenly too cool as it begins to dry in the open air.

· “Such a pretty pusssssy,” He slurs, “Pretty, pretty pusssssy. Gonna fill it up—gonna fill it with my fat ffffffucking cock!”

· You feel him jerk behind you, his muscles going taught as a violent spasm rolls through his body. When he speaks again, the voice that comes is not his own—it’s deeper, rumbling down in his chest, belonging to a man much larger than he, “Why I outta beat that boy! Beat him up good! Beat Billy bad! Beat him good! Beat him up, up, up!”

· His hips still and your heart leaps up into your throat, your pulse pounding hard in the tight space. This can’t be good. You squirm beneath him, trying and failing to turn your head. Your eyes roll wild in their sockets, desperate to get a good look at Billy, but he remains a shadow at the edge of your vision. You remember this voice. He had so many it was difficult to keep track of them sometimes—he’d mimic almost anything he heard; the children from down the road calling to one another while they played, the weatherman making predictions on the radio, even the neighbour’s cat. It was easy to forget which voices and phrases came from where once he’d picked them up and used them enough. But this is one that predates you, and you recognize it with a chilling clarity—the father’s voice: always angry, often violent.

· It frightens you when Billy uses it, though not because of the threat Billy poses to you. Of course, you know to tread carefully when he's in one of his moods—you’ve seen first hand the destruction wrought when his directionless frustration is given direction. But, you know this voice is a far more likely indicator that Billy is an imminent threat to himself. You’ve seen him pacing the floor like a caged animal, trembling hands beating about his head, tearing at his clothes and hair as he works through the frenzy, all the while babbling to himself in that deep, rumbling voice: “Rotten boy! Teach you a fucking lesson! Beat Billy! Bad Billy! Bad, Bad, Bad!” He's blackened his eyes, split his lips and knuckles, shattered countless plates and cut his hands on the shards. He loses himself in that voice, and that scares you.

· ‘Losing himself,’ that’s what you’ve come to call these episodes—those moments when his excitement and boundless energy curdle, souring into anxiety and agitation so quickly it makes you head spin. And in this moment, he’s displaying all the tell-tale sighs you’ve come to recognize—the full-body tremors, the angry voices, self-directed violence—mere threats or otherwise…

· No, this is not good. Of course, this isn’t the first time you’ve seen him do this, and you’re sure it would not be the last, but he’s never done it while you were…playing before. And that worries you. You’re both vulnerable, half-undressed and bent over a desk. Even worse, he was behind you. You’d learned very quickly never to let him out of your sight when he got like this. He was unpredictable—prone to lashing out whether he meant to or not. But he wasn’t beyond helping. If you could just turn your head and look at him—make him see you, help him to ground himself like you practiced, you might be able to talk him down, or at least ease him through the worst of it. Maybe. If you could only get a look at him.

· You flounder for your voice and struggle to keep it steady once you find it, “Hey, B-Billy? Billy, baby, you’re okay, right?” It’s an innocent question you usually begin with when he gets like this. Sometimes he’s too worked up to even begin to answer you, sometimes he tries so damn hard to answer, but can’t—not in a way you could really understand anyhow—and sometimes you can talk it through with him. Every time you try, the reaction is different. You can only cross your fingers and pray for a positive outcome.

· This time, he coughs. It’s a horrible, a horrible, racking sound that echoes in his chest—it’s almost closer to a scream than anything else. Another spasm jitters through him, the joint in his neck snapping loud in the darkness. You feel his forehead collide with your shoulder once, twice, then he stills. His flesh is clammy against yours, and the gentle brush of his hair makes your skin prickle, but he seems calmer. He barks a laugh—his own this time—and nuzzles against your back, smearing your skin with sweat and saliva. “Fuck!” He says, as though that explains everything.

· “Billy? Are you…alright?”

· He chirps like bird, three short bursts of whistling he’d picked up last spring when a robin mad made a nest on your windowsill, “Right as rain, rain, rain!”

· You’re left with a heady rush of confusion and relief as you realize he must have pulled himself out of the hole he’d almost fallen into. A little flicker of pride sparks to life in your chest. He’s come so far.

· Your concern melts away once again into pleasure as Billy jerks his hips. Keening high in the back of his throat, he fucks himself deeper into you. He drags his cock out slow, sounding for all the world as though he’d forgotten just how good it felt to fuck you—as though he hadn’t been doing just that not sixty seconds ago. He scrapes his teeth against your shoulder, the promise of a bite that will surely come and mark you for days. His fingers flex around your wrists, blunt nails biting deeper into your flesh as he falls back into that brutal rhythm.

· Your legs begin to shake as Billy’s cock bumps up against something a bit more sensitive inside of you. Your breath fogs against the surface of the desk as it heaves from your lungs, a thin mist that barely has the time to fade before the next heavy puff of air replaces it. You find yourself struggling to swallow the moans Billy’s working so hard to pull from you. You know how much he likes to hear you—how wild it makes him—and you know there’s no real need to be quiet, not with the dorm cleared out for the long weekend. Still, something—be it a force of habit from living in close quarters with thin walls, or simply your own embarrassment—keeps you quiet.

· “Fiiiilthy whore!” A growl, caught low in his throat, tears through the air between you, “Pretty pussy! Want it full! My cock, my cum…gonna fill it full!” Never at a loss for a string of vulgarities, Billy mumbles against your skin, his words slurring into one another until you can barely decipher one though from the other.

· “Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck!” Billy jerks his hips forward, and for the first time this evening, you feel the full length of his cock stretching you out. You jerk beneath him, mewling into the desktop, squirming about as you try desperately to relax around him. You’re so full—so full you can barely breathe, but it feels so good. Your muscles contract around him, unbidden, throbbing with the sudden stretch. It makes him shudder and sigh above you, a wavering rush of air than hisses out between his teeth.

· He holds you there for a moment, trembling almost as much as you are, “Tight fffucking cunt, so fucking tiiight for Billy!” His hips stutter forward in time with his ragged breathing. Desperately, he tries to fuck himself deeper into you, even though he can’t—he’s already buried to the hilt, his hips tucked snugly against your ass. But he gives it the old college try anyhow. He begins to babble nonsensically against your neck, “Ruin it, ruin it! Never take another cock! Full, full, full! I left it in the kitchen, Jan! Not after Billy’s! A low pressure system moving in and—fuck you full, fuck you full, full, full!”

· The tops of his thighs quiver as he grinds into you, and as he shifts, the head of his cock presses against something. For a moment, your vision goes white. Your legs seem to fall away beneath you, your knees drifting south as the pleasure carries away their ability to hold you upright any longer. If it weren’t for the desk, you probably would have slid down into a boneless heap on the floor.

· You gasp, mouth gaping wide, pulling in a great, deep lungful of air. To call his name? To beg him for more? To put wordless voice to your pleasure? You aren’t sure. There is little room in your brain for thought beyond the need for more. Mercifully, Billy saves you from the struggle before you can waste too much energy on it.

· Almost as soon as he realizes your mouth is open, Billy shoves his fingers into your mouth. Two boney digits slide against your tongue, pressing and prodding against the slick muscle. The taste of dust and salt floods your mouth with the intrusion. You wrinkle your nose, and try to pull your head back, but Billy leans down into you, pressing you down further beneath his weight, grinding your ribs into the desktop.

· “No, no, no,” He chides, voice soft and light—almost cheerful. He spreads his fingers apart, rubbing over the hard bumps of your bottom teeth with a tenderness you rarely see in him. “Gotta make room,” His voice rumbles through you as he presses his lips against your flesh, “Gotta stretch it out for Billy, or he won’t fit!”

· He nuzzles his cheek against your shoulder, still rocking his hips into you, pressing against that spot that makes your brain fill with television static, “Billy’s gonna fuck your throat once he’s filled that pretty pussy!”

· Your lips are pulled taught as his fingers press against the walls of your mouth, testing its limits. “Soft and warm! Wanna fuck it! Fuck it deep!”

· His hips buck hard, shoving you another inch toward the wall. You can feel yourself drooling around his fingers—your saliva dripping down your chin in great rivulets and collecting beneath your cheek.

· His knuckles bump against the roof of your mouth as the pads of his fingers find the back of your tongue. You gag around them, struggling to breathe, but Billy just laughs and presses down harder.

· “Again,” His voice comes out in a ragged puff of breath, half-whisper, half-growl, rough as rock salt, “Pussy gets tight when it chokes.”

· You try to suck in a shocked breath, but you can’t manage it around his fingers. Your throat convulses around him as you struggle to breathe.

· You feel his cock pulse inside of you and he groans his pleasure long and low into the darkness, “Yesssss!”

· He rocks into you again, “No one fucks like Billy, huh?” He pulls back, his cock nearly slipping from your body entirely, then he slams his hips home again, “No one fucks you full like Billy can! No one! No one! No one!” The phrase becomes a litany, each sentence punctuated with a bruising snap of his hips. “Know why?” He drags his teeth along the edge of your shoulder blade, “Know why?” You can hear the grin in his voice, wide and sharp, “‘Cuz Billy fills you up from both ends!”

· You sob around Billy’s fingers, your eyes rolling back as he pushes them deeper into your mouth. If he keeps on like this, it won’t be long before you fall apart around him—you want to cum so desperately, you can hardly keep another thought in your brain. Your muscles clench up around him and he laughs, giggling to himself as he hooks his chin over your shoulder. He can feel how close you are.

· His tongue slides against the side of your face, leaving a thick, wet stripe across your cheekbone. His lips scratch rough against your jaw, “Pretty pussy’s gonna cum? Gonna cum all over Billy’s fat fucking cock? Yeah?” His simpering tone makes your cheeks burn with embarrassment, but you nod. Another peal of sick laughter bubbles up in his throat, “You’re gonna cum and Billy’s not even trying! So dirty, dirty, dirty!”

· You whine around his fingers as he babbles on, “Billy could fuck you harder, but he doesn’t need to! Stupid, greedy pussy, silly fucking cunt can cum like this!” His teeth sink into your shoulder and the rest of his diatribe is lost to you. Even so, he continues to mumble filth against the skin caught between his teeth.

· The bite stings, bright and sharp, and you sob around him, clenching your jaw, your teeth digging into his fingers. Billy releases you with a hiss, dipping his head into the crook of your neck. You think for a moment you might have hurt him, but in mere seconds, he’s giggling to himself again. “Sharp, sharp teeth! No good. No, no good. Not for Billy’s cock. Gotta tear them out, make room for Billy!”

· Though you know the threat is mostly empty, the way Billy caresses your molars with the pad of his finger makes you a little nervous. You’re sure if he could get a good grip, he could easily ‘make room,’ and there was probably not much you could do to stop him. But he pulls his fingers back, retreating from the crushing press of your back teeth.

· He presses down against your tongue again, rubbing against the slick muscle fondly. “Need to practice! Greedy cunt needs to learn! Learn to suck Billy’s fat cock properly.” He snaps his hips, as though trying to remind you just how fat it really was—as though there was any change you could forget while it was rearranging your guts for you. “Gonna teach you to take it good!”

· Your eyes roll back at the thought. You can picture yourself kneeling under the desk, Billy draped over the chair, wild hair falling over his eyes as you try to take him all the way down to the base. He’d fuck your throat until your vision goes black, his fingers tangled deep in your hair, nails digging into your scalp. Your own fingers slide desperately between your thighs, chasing your release as he chases his own and god what you wouldn’t give to make the fantasy real—to feel the length of him in your mouth, the rough denim of his pants beneath your hands, the jerk and sting against your scalp as he tugs on your hair. Your cheeks hollow around Billy’s fingers, a pretty whine sitting high in the back of your throat.

· And Billy stops—stops moving, stops talking. He hovers above you, silent and still as a statue, barely breathing. A terrible moment of clarity washes over you and the embarrassment comes rolling in. There you were, still stretched out on Billy’s cock, barely moments away from an orgasm and you were already thinking about another? Were you really that desperate? Your cheeks burn hot against the cool wood of the desktop. Shame licks at the pit of your stomach—it wasn’t unlink Billy to think this way, he was always seeking the next shot of pleasure, but it wasn’t like you. As though it wasn’t bad enough to catch yourself thinking that way…for someone else to do it? It was mortifying…and maybe a little exciting too.

· Your stomach flips as Billy shifts behind you, the burgeoning stubble on his jaw scraping across your sensitive skin. Then you feel it, a smile spreading across his face—it’s a grin you’ve come to know well, all teeth and wide enough to make his jaw pop. Even without looking at him, you know you’re fucked.

· All at once, he lurches to life again, fucking his fingers hard into your mouth, in tandem with the harsh thrusts of his hips. A filthy string of gibberish falls from his lips as he pounds into you, “Greedy! Greedy cunt! Want it in your mouth too? Filthy, greedy fucking whore!”

· You whine, and choke, and sob around Billy’s fingers. Your face is wet with sweat, with spit, with tears, you can’t tell and at this point, you’re far beyond the point of caring. The world has narrowed to a single point between your legs as you teeter on the knife’s edge of your release. You rock your hips back against Billy, meeting his thrusts, desperate for more. You’re so, so close, and Billy can feel it too—the way you tighten around him spurring his pace from wild to frantic.

· His voice is broken, his words panted out between jagged breaths and garbled moans, “Gonna be good for Billy? Gonna cum?” His face is buried in the crook of your neck. He giggles against your flesh as he splits you open, slamming into you like it’s the last fuck he’ll ever have. “C’mon, take what Billy gives you! Take it, take it, t—ta—fuuuck!”

· Your hips stutter as your orgasm throbs through you. You scream around his fingers as you cum, your muscles clamping down around Billy so hard he almost has to stop moving, rolling his hips forward quick and shallow. His howl is lost in the sound of blood rushing in your ears, but you can feel it vibrating through his chest, and down into your back. Your fingers scrabble at the wood beneath you, desperate for something to latch onto—to keep you grounded here as the pleasure threatens to carry you away.

· You sob and slump limp against the desk, letting it bear the brunt of your weight. There’s just no strength left in your body anymore. Your hands and feet tingle with the lingering aftershocks of the adrenaline as you begin to come down from your high, and your breath comes hard, as though you’ve run a great distance. Billy’s hips continue to snap against yours, brutal and quick. You sob into his fingers, the as the relentless pleasure sparks through you, nearly painful to your sparking nerves.

· Slowly, as your ears stop ringing, you realize Billy is still talking, babbling away in several voices. “Like your pussy tight like this. Wanna fuck you full while you cum again and again and again and I told you, Jan, I left it in the kitchen! Make you soaked, keep you soaking wet, make you fucking cry! Where is that cat? Where’s that cat? Where’s the…WHERE’S THE BABY, BILLY?! AGNES? WHERE’S AGNES, BILLY?! Beat that kid! Teach him a lesson! BEAT HIM UP GOOD!”

· His left hand shoots up from your arm and wraps around your throat, fingers flexing around your windpipe, not quite squeezing, yet, but the pressure is far from comfortable.

· “T-T-Teach rotten old Billy a lesson.” A spike of fear shoots through you and you choke around his fingers. This seems to bring his mind back, at least in part, to the present, or at least confuse him enough to serve as a distraction—he makes a noise caught between two voices. The fear that courses through you lends new strength to your limbs as you reach up and claw at his fingers.

· As you attempt to pry him lose, his grip only tightens, fingers locking around your windpipe, “Teach that boy a FUCKING lesson!” The knobby joints of his fingers press hard against the pulse in your throat and you’re sure he can feel it hammering beneath your skin. He’s losing himself again, you’re sure.

· But again, this time was different. He hadn’t stopped fucking his cock into you like he had before, and he’d wavered for a moment, when you’d choked on him. There might be something else you could do to help him. Desperate to keep him here with you in the present moment, you flex your tongue against his fingers. His hips stutter and your heart skips a beat in turn. “Filthy fucking c-c-cunt…”

· You bob your head, hollowing your cheeks around his fingers again. C’mon, Billy!

· “F-Fuck!” It’s not quite his voice, but it’s close, perhaps a little higher, a little more strained than usual, but it’s close. “Where’s the baby, Billy? Where’s the…c-c-cat gone to now?” His fingers begin to relax around your throat, but you keep sucking on his fingers, wanting to make sure you’re well and truly out of the woods before you even think about stopping. If this is going to work, you’re going to make damn sure of it.

· “Fucking greedy little cunt!” You could have cried with relief at the sound of his voice—his real voice. You hum around his fingers, and he laughs, the sound low and rumbly, “Still so fucking eager.” His hips buck forward, pressing deep inside of you. It’s still too much, too soon, and you sob with the overstimulation. The sudden spike of pleasure punches the air from your lungs and shakes your legs from underneath you.

· Billy groans as you pulse around him. “You want Billy to cum? Wand Billy to fucking fill you?” You nod frantically, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as he grinds into that spot, filling your vision with white hot splotches of light.

· “Suck his cock, then,” he says, shoving his fingers deeper into your mouth again. He spreads them wide, nearly matching the girth of his cock where it fucks you open. Billy jitters behind you, chasing his release with quick, cruel thrusts. Impatient as always, he pushes digs his nail into the wall of your cheek, “Fucking suck Billy’s cock!”

· You jerk into motion as though startled from a deep sleep, pressing your head down against his fingers to take them as deep as you could. Your tongue laves against the digits, prodding gently against his scarred knuckles, playing in the space between them.

· Billy throws his head back, moaning to the ceiling long and loud, “Yessss! Good little pet! Pretty, pretty pet! His fingers stroke your throat as though he’s petting a cat, feeling it work up and down as you swallow around him. “Gooood pet! Suck Billy’s cock! Suck his cock! Su—NO!”

· Suddenly, he stops, his fingers stilling. For a moment, you think you’ve done something wrong. Had your teeth caught against him? Had you hurt him? Should you pull back and ask, or carry on? Before you can make a decision one way or another, Billy thrusts his fingers back into your throat, pressing them in as deep as he could. His knuckles bump against your back molars as you gag around him, trying desperately to breathe through your nose.

· “Lick Billy’s cunt,” For a moment, you’re still, confusion slicing through the pleasure. Billy tries to press his hand forward, his fingertips brushing against the back of your throat, “Lick it! Lick Billy’s cunt! Lick it! Lick it! Tongue his fffffucking clit!” You think about it for a moment, your exhausted, lust-fogged brain struggling to put two and two together, and then suddenly you think you understand. As gingerly as you can, while Billy continues to rock you forward over the desk, you press your tongue against the soft spot between his knuckles.

· This must have been what he’d wanted because the sound he makes is like nothing you’ve ever heard before—a wail caught somewhere between human and animal. You’ve never heard a human sound like that before. Like so many things about Billy, it’s frightening, and yet it fascinates you, attracts you, arouses you. You press your tongue harder against that spot, and the frantic rocking of his hips picks up again—but this time there’s no rhythm to it. He’s close.

· “Fucking lick Billy��s clit, make him cum! Make him cum in your pretty pussy!” You lap at his flesh with quick, deliberate swipes of your tongue. He howls against your flesh, his forehead thudding against your shoulder heavy and hard. “Fuck, f-f-f-fuck, make Billy fucking cum! Billy’s gonna, he’s-he’s-he’s gonna—!”

· In the moment before he cums everything is calm. He stills, and his voice is soft and steady in your ear; “I’m going to ruin you.”

· Then the world falls back into chaos.

· His whole body shudders above you, a bag of jangling bones he couldn’t keep control of if his life had depended on it. His teeth fix themselves deep into your shoulder, slotting into the indentations they’d left not long before. You cry out around his fingers, sure he’s drawn blood this time. You can see it when you close your eyes, visions of thick red blood splattered against his dark incisors floating against the dark inside of your eyelids.

· He shudders, momentarily stilling, then kicking back into motion, seemingly unable to deicide if he’d rather pound you through his orgasm or remain still, buried to the hilt in your tight heat. You feel the heat of him inside of you pulsing against your walls as he cums. His cheek is pressed tight against your shoulder gibbering a collection nonsensical sounds and snatches of obscenities into your flesh, “Pretty pink cunt! ah, ahhhh, fuuh—fuuuh—fuck! Dripping now! Where did you leave it? Left it fucking dripping!"

· You’re sore beyond belief from the pounding you’ve taken, but there’s still a throbbing want underneath. He’d dragged you most of the way to a second orgasm, now all you needed was a little push. Before you were completely at is mercy, able only to receive the pleasure he decided to give you. But now, your hands were free and with them you could do as you pleased. You wriggle beneath him, slipping your hands down between your thighs.

· Your fingers find their prize, and you sob, your whole body jerking forward. Even though you’d cum mere moments ago, you can’t believe how sensitive you are. You’re on the verge of orgasm almost immediately. You press harder the slide of your fingers aided both Billy’s cum and your own. You shudder, whimpering around his fingers. Your muscles clamp down on him once again, throbbing and pulsing as your orgasm builds.

· He hooks his finger inside of your cheek and pulls, “Wanna cum again. Wanna cum in your mouth,” He pulls harder exposing the sides of your teeth, “Billy wants to feel them! Feel them on his cock! Sharp and hard.” He laughs, “But Billy likes it hard.” The harsh snap of his hips that follows has you seeing spots. He opens his mouth as though to gloat, as you clench around him, he loses his words. Whimpering, soft and broken sounds against your neck, he grinds into you.

· Seconds later, you clamp down around him, a second orgasm shooting through you. The sound he makes as you cum on his oversensitive cock is nothing short of feral. He bucks wildly into you, seeking more of a pleasure that sounds almost painful as he sobs into your shoulder. His cock pulses inside of you again, throbbing as he fucks his cum deeper inside of you, as though intent on giving you more.

· And you’re sure he would. Or he would have, if you hadn’t reached back and pushed against his shoulder. He was insatiable—he’d keep going for hours unless you stop him now.

· He pulls his fingers out first, a pearly string of saliva connecting your lips to his fingertips. You cough, scratchy and wet, but when you speak, there’s no pain. “I…I just need a little break, Bills. Okay?” Your chest is heaving as you struggle for air. Billy hums above you, hesitating for a moment. He’s reluctant to give up the tight heat of your body. But at last, after nearly a full minute of grumbling and mumbling to himself, he pulls out.

· There's a sticky gush of fluids against your thigh as his cum beings to leak out of you. You rest there for a moment, the pair of you breathing hard in the darkness, the comfortable weight of his body pressing down above you, the solid plane of the desktop below. Then all of a sudden, you’re being lifted up. You squeal in shock as your flipped about and placed atop the desk. The surface is still cool against your heated flesh. The difference in temperature is a shock to your system and goosebumps break out across your arms and legs.

· Before you have a moment to process what’s happening, Billy’s head is between your thighs, his tongue lapping at mess he’d made. Your eyes go wide, and you head knocks against a wall as it falls back, “Fuuuuck, Billy!” Your hips cant up against his face, thighs squeezing tight around his ears.

· “Pretty pussy came twice already,” You can feel him smirking against your inner thigh. “Still wants more? Greedy, greedy, greedy.” You catch a glimpse of his eyes, wide and wild, shining in the darkness beneath is tangled hair, “It’s okay, Billy likes you greedy.”

[moxfirefly]

55. "Does it hurt? Tell me to stop if it hurts."

With, hmm, Mikey and a (top-)male-reader? Oops, guess you’ll have to shit some bricks then...😏

Also? If you could somehow include slutty mikey, then *chef’s kiss* perfecto. But if not, that’s fine. Do what you think is right 😊

My. Time. Has. Come.

Friend thank you! My first male-reader request! I’m so excited and I can so do this.

The second Michelangelo feels teeth bite down his neck he knows whatever nervous feelings he had just slip away.

Your tongue laps the bite, the flesh is a little harder so it’s not possible to do the damage you might want to do. Because the idea of marking up Mikey makes your cock stir. You’d have to get a little more creative then, so you kissed your way down his plastron, enjoying the way his fingers dug into your hair. At the hem of his underwear you smirked up at him, trying to hide your chuckle when Mikey vigorously nodded his consent.

How the two of you ended up like this was still beyond Mikey, well to a certain extent. You had come over, he had suggested video games, things did get competitive and around there was where the missing footage sign blinked. Mikey hadn’t really thought that kissing a guy would be this exciting. Sure he’d had his fare share of self discovery when it came to his sexuality, he knew he just liked pretty people.

And boy were you fucking pretty.

Needless to say, having sex with a close friend who also happened to be a guy wasn’t really on his list of To Do’s on this Wednesday afternoon. He sure as hell wasn’t complaining though.

Underwear casted aside, you chucked your own as well. Mikey’s eyes were glued to your body, taking in details he didn’t think would make him so, well horny. He liked you, he really liked what he saw and as your ego inflated just so, you felt yourself being pulled closer into another heated kiss.

Mikey found himself enjoying the scratch of your scruff, the softness of your body against his much harder one, the groan that left your throat and disappeared down his own. Much to his regret you ended this kiss with a soft tug of his bottom lip.

“Do you want me to bottom?” You asked by pressing your lower halves together.

Mikey wasn’t sure if he could make words, much less answer that question. Needless he had to and a little shameful part of him that overthought everything wasn’t sure how you’d take his request.

“Um... is it like cool if, well, you could maybe... be the top?” His eyes had to preoccupy themselves with something that wasn’t your face, regardless of it being a pretty face he could barely stop looking at.

You smirked, hand cupping his chin to make him look at you. “Ask me the right way” You whispered against his lips, enjoying how his bottom lip trembled ever so lightly.

Swallowing, Mikey gripped your sides and pressed his lips to yours. “Please, fuck me” Came his needy reply, it instantly made your skin break out in goosebumps. With another tongue twisting kiss you told him to give you a second to grab a small bottle of lube out of your bag. Mikey took the opportunity to breath, to look up at the ceiling of his bunk bed and somehow align his thoughts.

The liquid cool he felt at his hole startled him, apologizing you kissed that pretty heart shaped mark on his plastron. “It’ll heat up, I promise” Slowly and gently you worked a finger inside, enjoying even more how Mikey’s legs spread to give you more room. He’d actually done this to himself several times, the sensation was pleasant but something about having somebody else doing it just made it all the more exciting. Almost by muscle memory he snaked a hand towards his hard cock and gripped it, a tempting pump making him moan. The hand not stretching him gripped his wrist. “Don’t want the show over before it starts, yeah?” It was a tempting sight, one you’ve gladly let continue but your aching cock said other wise.

Mike was tight, mostly being the nerves he assumed. “Easy, relax a little bit” Your free hand drew circles on the back of his thigh. Mikey felt his mouth go dry but he nodded, hands resting on your shoulders as you guided yourself into him. That initial burn was something he would commit into memory, the image of your lust ridden face even more so. “Fuck Mikey...” You mouth hung open, angling yourself a little more to slowly continue to push more of your length into him. Lifting his hips a little more, leg swung over your thigh, Mikey helped to better accommodate you. By no means exactly experienced, he at least knew from personal investigating how exactly he liked to be situated for this.

Maybe if his shyness didn’t creep up on him he could show you just how flexible he was.

Right around that thought Mikey felt you bottom out inside of him, the feeling making him shut his eyes and dig his nails onto your back. This somehow felt different, a really good different and with the way Mikey’s cock steadily leaked precum you knew you wanted drive into him wildly.

The first few thrusts made your eyes flutter shut, the way his heat felt around you was enough to make you moan. Mikey’s hands slid to your rear, gripping flesh with a lengthy churr. The sound startled you, your hips reducing to a slow languid pace. “Does it hurt? Tell me to stop if it hurts” You asked, surprisingly feeling breathless by just a few thrusts. Mikey shook his head, nudging you forward by the grip he had on your rear. “No no don’t stop, fuck me please!”He whined, arching his hips to get more friction.

Oh, who were you to deny him such a request?

“Say it again for me baby” Your hips picked up again, thrusting into him in ascending speed. Each hit making Mikey moan, those baby blues of his none existent with how dilated his pupils were. “Fuck me, god just use me like some cock sleeve” In a more alert state he would’ve flushed crazy, those types of words were reserved more for his fantasies.

“Use you? Fill you up? That what you want baby boy?” You drove into him harder, skin slapping skin. Gripping the back of his knees you pushed his legs up to better angle your thrust and it only proved more to his desire. “Yes! Fill me-fuck-up!” At some point he was gonna remember this later but right now, right now as you drove into him with feverish slams, he was ready to spill his longing.

You leaned down, the friction of your moving bodies making Mikey’s cock twitch. You kissed him, sloppily enough to capture his moans. Muscles strained, sweat broke out over your body. “Ha- Harder” He groaned against your lips, teeth biting down gently. “Yeah? Want me to fuck you harder?” You grunted out your words, capturing his lips in one last feverish kiss. Leaning back you set your knees on the bed just how you needed to slam into him in quick short thrusts. Mikey felt his brain short circuit, something inside of him snapping and making him reach for his stiff leaking length. The sight alone had you grunted, each time you drove into him you knew you weren’t to last much longer.

It wasn’t long before he tensed up, pumping erratically and cumin with a long churr. Each spurt shooting onto his plastron, a few ropes managing to hit his chin. You felt your hips stutter, nails digging onto his thighs as your own release hit. Now that was a sensation Mikey didn’t expect to enjoy as much as he had fantasized about it, the way you filled him up with so much warmth. When the ability to form a thought managed to find its way back into your brain, you admired the mess Mikey was, all hard breathing and satisfied. You ran a thumb across his stained chin, cleaning it up by sticking it in your mouth. Still joined together you bent down and licked up the cum on his plastron and by the pleasant little clench Mikey gave, you knew he liked what you were doing.

“You alright?” You kissed the question against his chest, slowly pulling out with a bite to your lower lip. Settling next to him you couldn’t help but smirk, he was still swimming in all those nice little chemicals one releases. You let him have his moment, opting to just lazily make out with him.

[wyn-n-tonic]

We Can Stay Like This Forever

Word Count: 2,385 Warnings: Uh... yearning. A crumb of smut. Dialogue heavy bullshit tbh. Author's Note: God okay, I've been sitting on this for like a month now? I wrote this when I couldn't focus on my own characters anymore and my brain needed to visualize parts of the scene I was trying to write using the body language of a character I already know and love so well. This is written in second person but the reader has a name. It was an experiment dashed out in a drunken fervor that made my editor weep. Anyway, if you see any of these lines in a book one day... no you don't.

MASTERLIST

“Javi, I haven’t loved you since I was twent—“

“That's bullshit and you know it,” he interrupts, voice coming out hard but arms crossed tighter than they have been all night, replacing the pressure of kevlar he’s so used to. Protective, defensive, stopping the bullets from reaching him where it matters the most.

Your lips are raw from dragging your teeth across them but biting down is the only thing that stops the tears from springing to the surface. You never thought you’d see him again, you never thought he’d be standing in your kitchen only strides away; two for him, four for you. You saw the news coming out of Colombia, heard it in the supermarket passed from ear to ear straight from his dad’s mouth. Javier Peña was the walking dead.

Javi left Lorraine for you. You gave him a choice and he made it and you, being certain he’d lean the other way, couldn’t live with that guilt. When you wrote that first letter, you didn’t expect a response. You just wanted to apologize, you wanted him to know that you were sorry. You didn’t expect to hear his voice on the other end weeks later when you picked up the phone. Hell, you had pushed the letter so far out of your mind that you’d forgotten you’d included your number.

And now he’s standing in front of you, tangible as ever. No longer just the boy you loved but a man aged so roughly by sun and stress that you are breaking within wishing that you had been there to smooth it all over.

“Goddamn it, Clara,” that hard tone reaches towards you again but he loosens his stance, the toned arms still holding close to his body but the tension bottoming out to his exhaustion, “are you going to say anything or are you going to just keep looking at me like I’m a fucking ghost?”

“Is that not what you are?” Your voice is broken when you find it again, the tears really do come now. “A ghost from my past come back to haunt my bad decisions? Tell me I fucked up?”

“Is that what you think I’m here for? Is that why you think I came to you first thing instead of my family?” He exhales a breath you didn’t realize he was holding and drags a hand through his hair, pinning you in place with his eyes. “Can I smoke in here?”

“I thought you quit.”

“Yeah well,” another exhale, the slightest hint of laughter on his lips, “I thought a lot of things I’ve been wrong about too.”

And god, those eyes. Simultaneously the warmest, softest brown but so black they look like blown out pupils. Like he’s the one who’s been snorting the cocaine, not busting those that do. You don’t even register the insult before nodding your head. What’s a little cigarette smoke when you run the risk of him walking out that door and not coming back?

But isn’t that what you want? Isn’t that the purpose of this conversation? Are you not being the same bitch you were all those years ago praying that he’ll be the one to walk out on you this time? Bringing it back full circle to that decision you forced on him half a lifetime ago?

“Yeah?” He doesn’t sound sure and even though your eyes are anywhere but on his now, you haven’t felt his leave you this whole time.

“Yeah,” you whisper to your feet like they’re the most interesting goddamn thing in the world.

After years of practice, he’s quick about it, you don’t even realize he’s lit up until he lets go of that first puff and, with it, the entire room changes. It’s not angry, it’s not hard, it’s… twenty years of heartache and longing compounding, neither party believing they’re good enough for the other.

You look back at the tired man standing in front of you, “Javier, I—“

“No. No, let me talk,” he rubs his eyes with his free hand, drags it down his golden cheek and smirks. Another inhale and, “I didn’t come here to tell you that you fucked up, you’ve said it plenty. We’ve been talking for months, we fell back in stride like nothing ever happened, like I hadn’t spent years pretending every woman I fucked was you because it was like you’d never left my side. Almost twenty-five hundred miles, Clara, I was a world away from you and when I came home at the end of the day the last six months…” he’s the one biting his lip now, “I could call you no matter the time and the sound of your voice made me feel like a normal person. Like I still had a shot at this world beyond the bounty on my head.”

His exhaustion, his softness, is palpable now as he stops to suck in a breath like he hasn’t taken one this whole time and then…

“If you didn’t love me, you wouldn’t have written. If you didn’t love me, you would’ve hung up. If you didn’t love me, you wouldn’t answer the phone at one o’clock in the fucking morning to tell me to breathe through the anger and the sadness and the horror I witnessed. But if that’s the story you want to stick with, I’ll go. I don’t expect anything I just…” his voice hitches, the cigarette long forgotten between his fingers, “I just wanted to see if your face still lights up when you laugh or if that had changed after two decades. It hasn’t and it’s still both my favorite sight and sound in the world. I’m sorry I didn’t fight harder to watch it grow through the years.”

He looks to the right of him and throws the cigarette in the sink. Pushing off the counter with his other hand, he takes one step forward and fixes his eyes on yours again. “Tell me I’m wrong, Clara. Tell me you don’t love me and I won’t ever darken your home aga—“

“I love you.”

And he’s on you. Just like that. Just one more step to close the distance and his body presses to yours. His large hands come up to cradle your jaw and his nose slots perfectly into place against yours and his lips touch down like a plane with faulty landing gear, crashing against yours all hot breath and stale tobacco and, oh god, the smell of him. Soap and sweat, the chemical make up of his scent flooding your senses to make you feel whole again when you didn’t even know how much you missed it.

His hands are sliding down gently, wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer. With his strong arms lifting you away from the counter, you no longer need to support yourself against it and you’re grabbing for him, trying harder to wring the space from between you like a worn rag but nothing is left.

The feel of him is something new, however. He’s not that scrawny kid who awkwardly held you to him, unsure of how his touches were affecting your body and pleasure. No, this Javier is different. Older, experienced, more tender than you remember him ever being, so sure of himself and just… thicker. Two shirt sizes up from the man you walked away from, his formerly wiry muscles are almost bubble wrapped in a way. What used to knot against you in hard planes of flesh and bone now give quietly against your touch as you’re pulling at the only thing that separates you now.

But suddenly, he’s breaking away. All heavy breaths and wildly flushed cheeks, his lips have left yours and the ache you numbed in his absence returns like a migraine after sleep. You need him and he’s gone again and you’re chasing his kiss with a whine as he replaces his lips with a thumb, cradling your face once more and shushing you, “Cálmate, mi amor. Está bien. Are we moving too fast right now?”

And you are breathless as you answer, “We are not moving fast enough, Javier.”

“I just don’t want you to think that this is all that I want. That you will wake to find an empty bed tomorrow.”

“If I woke to find an empty bed tomorrow, that’s exactly what I’d deserve.”

Those eyebrows knit up in confusion, the lines that have made their home on his forehead making you simultaneously weak in their beauty as evidence of his life and sad in the tragedy that you weren’t there to watch him earn them.

“Clarita,” his tone is so soft, the endearment coming to him as naturally now as it did in the before, “If it’s punishment you think you deserve then I’m here to tell you that you’re wrong. I chose you, you didn’t beg for it. I did that of my own accord. And when you chose to walk away because you felt guilty, I did beg you. I’ll own it, I begged and pined but you couldn’t get out of your own head long enough to see that you were never the issue, you were the solution. You still are. I have searched for you in everybody I’ve ever met. So tell me,” his hands are wrapping around your arms now, “Are you ready to forgive yourself and find me in your bed tomorrow morning?”

“Yes,” comes barely audible through parted lips as his find yours once more, knocking the breath from your chest as his hands slide down to your hips. He digs his fingers into the denim there and slowly starts to guide you through the home that’s not his thinking, correctly, that the only door at the end of the hallway is the destination he really booked from Bogotá.

And he is burning a hole through you, his entire being set on fire against you in the already blazing Texas heat. He is gentle as he pushes you down, climbing on top with one arm out to break both your falls. His shirt was abandoned somewhere in the kitchen, shoes kicked off in the hallway with your shorts not far behind. His belt buckle is riding against you as he rocks his hips down, forgetting the metal between you in his hunger for you to feel him.

He feels you wince, the whine swallowed between his lips but he’s pulling back like he’s electrocuted you. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” your hands are shaking as you take advantage of the space between, “just take your pants off.”  

He hits you with that crooked smile and meets your hands where they’re still trembling at his hips and, god, he’s swift. He wastes no time kicking off his jeans and falling back into you, pressing back into you. You can feel him straining against his briefs but his patience is unmatched as he savors every taste of your mouth, every nip at the warm skin of your neck and chest. His hands are exploring the years that have marked your body as you mentally catalogue the scars that have taken over his.

He’s pushed your shirt up as far as it will go without leaving you but when he finally does to lift it away, the separation is so quick that it feels like nothing. He’s everywhere and you’re delirious, half thinking you’re imagining him moaning into you as he takes your hand in his to put it where he wants it.

You almost think…but, no, that’s not how that works. Your brain is fucking with you, unable to reconcile the man on top of you with the memory of the boy you loved once upon a time. But you swear, he’s bigger. He holds his breath as your hand slides between him and his waistband and he’s looking down at you like he’s never been touched at all. The sadness showcased across the softness of his face is made worse by the sheen of sweat and blush across his nose. You’d almost believe it if you couldn’t feel the heartbeat in his hardness, waiting for you to make the next move.

After two beats of aching silence, looking up into the galaxies he has the audacity to call eyes, your other hand moves to push at his waistband. If you thought he was urgent before, the graceful rush to join your efforts is gold medal worthy. Your senses are delayed, you’re not sure if the sound of fabric hitting the ground comes before or after he’s ripping at the only bit of fabric that separates you now.

“Fuck,” he rests his forehead to yours, “I'll buy you another pair.” The confusion bubbles into laughter as you realize that, yes, he actually tore them from your body.

But the bubbling laughter in your throat squeezes into a tight gasp, the air punched from your lungs as he steadies himself against you. His long fingers are brushing your hair to the side as he leans down and whispers against your lips, “Can I?”

“Please,” but your begging is lost in his response before the word has fully left your lips. He is grabbing in a way you haven’t felt in years. Hungry, like he can’t get enough, like it’s all he needs.

It is devastating, the build up. He’s ripping through the deepest parts of you and you’re convinced, wholeheartedly, that the only truth you’ve ever known rides on the waves of his name. His grip tightens, his teeth dragging down your jawline and warmth takes over as an earthquake shatters what little composure you’ve kept.

He moans low in his throat once.

Twice.

Three times it dies out against your ear like it’s only meant for you. Like it was all only meant for you.

He’s smiling as he softens, you can hear it in his voice as he slowly asks, “Can we just stay like this for a minute?”

You press your lips to that dimple, singular and lonely on the right side of his face; so far gone from a five o’clock shadow, you’d almost think he’s been forty all his life.

“Javier,” your fingers wind tighter through the sweat slick curls at the crown of his head, “we can stay like this forever.”

TAGLIST: @justanotherblonde23​ | @greeneyedblondie44​ | @icanbeyourjedi​ | @princess76179​ | @bbuckysbeardd​ | @notcookiebelle​ | @knivesareout​ | @empress-palpat1ne​ | @phoenixpascal​ | @lexi-b-writes​ 

[tothemeadow]

ma'am, a scenario of breeding/impregnation kink tanjirou x female reader nsfw.. please.. i beg of you. thank you in advance. :)

Yes yes, here you go, anonnie~

‘sweet child of mine’ / Kamado T. x Reader

warnings: NSFW

words: 1,290

(a/n): Tanjiro is 18+ in this!

-

Tanjiro has always been such a sweet, gentle, kind boy; he’s been that way since he was a child, and those personality traits of his have carried him well into adulthood. He’s always been so helpful to others, always wanting to help whoever in need. He can’t help it – that’s just who he is. His need to protect and help others runs strong in his blood.

But it’s not enough.

He watches as you carefully comb the knots from your hair, spreading lavender oil over the strands. The smell of soap sticks to your skin; his mouth almost waters, your delicate scent doing wonders for him. He’s always liked your natural scent after you’ve taken a bath, the feel of your smooth skin against his scarred flesh.

Like everyone else, he loves to take care of you, his wife, but there’s something missing. And Tanjiro just knows exactly what it is.

He’s ever so patient as you slide into bed, a tiny smile on your face. You’re always just so sweet, so beautiful, and it drives Tanjiro crazy. He’s truly lucky to have you as his wife. But maybe, just maybe…

“We should have a baby,” he whispers into your ear as you settle your back against his chest.

You jolt in his hold. “That’s a bit sudden, don’t you think?”

“Think about it,” he husks, his nose brushing down your neck. A calloused hand drifts over your clothed stomach. “You, all swelled up with my baby. So pretty and plump.” He nips at your ear, causing you to shiver. “Nobody else could have you. They’d take one look at how swollen you’d be, and they’d know exactly how good I fucked you.”

You swallow past the lump in your throat. It’s a rare occasion whenever Tanjiro starts dirty talking to you – since he usually sticks to such loving words and praises – and you absolutely melt under his heated breath.

“Do you know how long I’ve been wanting to knock you up? To fuck you stupid until you’re begging for my cum?”

At his filthy, filthy words, you openly gasp. Tanjiro takes the opportunity to roll you onto your back and shuffles between your legs. The look in his eyes is nothing short of predatory; you grow wet in an instant, a fat drop of slick pushing its way out of your pussy. Nuzzling your throat, he quietly moans at your intoxicating scent. He shifts your hips until your thighs are perched around him.

“Let me put a baby into you, please,” he husks. “I’ll fuck you over and over until you’re stuffed full of cum.”

Your heart kicks at your chest. You allow him to pull open your yukata, revealing plains of smooth skin; you hastily do the same, your fingers running over the ridges of his chest and the jagged scars covering him. He’s built like a god, so wonderfully strong and muscled that your throat turns dry every time you see him.

Tanjiro wastes no time seeking out your mouth, his usual sweet kisses replaced by something purely raw and passionate. Slight noises spill from your lips as he nibbles and sucks on your bottom lip, his growing erection sliding against your glistening pussy. The taste of him sends your mind reeling when he finally sticks his tongue in your mouth; he groans deeply, the sound vibrating within his chest. Rough fingers fondle your breasts, pinch and pull at your hardened nipples. You cry out softly, your back arching further into his touch.

Oh, gods, you want this. You want Tanjiro to fill you to the brim. You want him to fuck a baby into you so fucking deep that you’d have no choice but to have one – no, two.

“Give me twins,” you purr, your hands running down over the flexing muscles in his back.

Tanjiro growls at your words; his thick fingers plunge right into your pussy, heavy pants falling from his lips as he grinds against your thigh. The mere idea of having your huge belly full of his babies sends him into a frenzy. He fucks you with his fingers, quick and fast, not giving you any time to adjust until he’s got four in you. You writhe beneath him, the velvety walls of your cunt sucking him in and begging for more.

“You want me that bad, darling?” he purrs into your ear. “Keep squeezing around my fingers like that and I’ll give you triplets.”

You cry out as he slips his fingers out; it quickly turns into a hearty moan as his cock takes their place, your walls eagerly stretching and clinging onto him. Tanjiro chuckles as he sets a pace – hard and rough because fuck you’re tight and so freaking hot-

Wet squelching fills the rooms as he fucks into you with vigor. You cry out helplessly as his cockhead pounds at your sweet spot, his mouth latching onto your breasts. “Fuck, Tanjiro,” you whimper, “that’s so – hngh – your cock-“ A surprised squeak bursts from your throat as he grabs onto your legs and presses them against your chest, essentially bending you in half. The new position has you crying out his name, his cockhead punching against your cervix with each thrust.

“I can’t wait to see you plump with my kids,” Tanjiro pants. “Gods, I’ll take you to bed every night even while you’re pregnant. You’re so sexy, (y/n), you’re a goddess.”

Instead of responding, you merely pull him into another kiss. It’s messy, tongues rolling over each other and saliva spilling down your chins, but fuck it’s so good and his cock is pounding into you mercilessly and you’re in heaven.

A sharp keen has you throwing your head back as Tanjiro plays with your clit, the rough pad of his thumb drawing figure eights into the sensitive nub. Added to the merciless thrusting of his cock, you’re speeding right towards the edge, the delicious knot in your gut tightening with every second.

“Cream on my cock,” Tanjiro husks. His tongue and teeth graze against your jawline. “You’re so good to me, baby, fuck.” He pinches your clit, causing you to cry out in pleasure. “Come on… Cum. Cum on me so I can put babies in you.”

This is not the Tanjiro you knew; not the sweet, gentle man who you happily married. No, this is the darker side of Tanjiro, the feral side. And he fucks you so thoroughly, so fucking rough, and you can’t get enough. You scream out his name as you reach your climax, your velvety walls convulsing around him wildly as he continues to fuck you through it. He grunts your name, his hands slamming onto the mattress at your sides as he thrusts into you faster.

A breathy moan fills your ears as he finally cums; hot ropes of white splash at your insides, filling you up, up, up. Tanjiro shallowly thrusts into you, pushing his cum deeper into your cervix. There’s so much of it, stray droplets squeezing out around his cock and slipping down your ass. You shudder as Tanjiro pulls out, your sodden hole clenching around nothing.

Tanjiro hums at the sight, his tongue flicking out and across his lower lip. With his fingers, he scoops up the cum dripping from your hole and pushing it right back in. You whimper at the overstimulation as his fingers slowly shove his cum into you.

“That’s my girl,” he praises, a light smile coming to his sweaty face. “Now, get all nice and big for me, okay? And if you don’t, we’ll keep trying and trying again.”

“Well,” you say, your hand dropping to your stomach, “I fill so full because of you. It better be triplets.”

Tanjiro’s nostrils flare.

[its-kall-the-clown]

Submitted by @twitchyglitchy: don't know if you meant submit as in send something to submit or to just wait for the askbox to open back up but when you get the time perhaps #41 with fatherly Sun Wukong and MK?

--------------------

Sorry, I was opening up the inbox again but then I walked away to get a snack, and then three people submitted this way. So sorry! XD

I think this could be considered the unofficial prequel to THIS and THIS Explains how MK got sick

prompt list

Blurred Lines

Rated: G

Wukong held out his hand a few drops of rain starting to fall against the palm of his paw. He looks up with a frown, the sky's overhead grey with the promise of rain. Judging by how dark the clouds have become in such a short time looks like they were in for a downpour.

He opens his mouth to tell MK their training was over for the day but found he was having to dodge a staff hurtling towards him. Apparently, the kid had not noticed the rain yet or was looking to take advantage of how distracted he was for an easy win.

He smirks shifting to one foot easily, completely dodging the attack, MK expected the blow to land and found when it didn't his balance was off. That was something they really needed stonework on, his balance. It's like MK was compensating for missing weight in his body, he wonders if maybe if MK grew a tail that problem would magically resolve itself.

MK topless forward onto his face and rolls a few feet, till he's laying on his back with a groan.

Monkey king saunters over to the boy a few more drops of rain hitting his fur as he walks.

"Good job today, I think we need to work on your balance though." He offers a hand out to MK who smacks it away and stands up on his own with a grunt. That.. .was unusual. The boy always had a pretty good attitude even when he lost. Never a sore loser when they sparred.

"Again." MK grunts our whipping his nose off on his sleeve with a determined look. The sky above them rumbles with a warning and Wukong's face twists down in a frown. Something was brewing and it wasn't just the storm.

"Let's call it a night kid. It's gonna rain soon." A few more drops fall against his fur and face and MK shakes his head back and forth, droplets flying from his hair. No way the kid didn't notice.

"No we can train a bit longer, rain never killed anyone." He smiles, already taking a challenging stance. Wukong crosses his arms over his chest and feels a tail-flick behind him.

"Not a chance. We're done for today."

MK lets out a sigh and leans against his staff side-eyeing him.

"Hmmm...never thought the great monkey king was afraid of a little water." MK smirks and Wukong stiffens under the jab. His fur bristled under his insulted pride and he smirks back at MK with his tail swishing behind him annoyedly.

"Fine. Smartass. We can keep training but don't come crying to me when the heavens open up." His eyebrow twitches, taking up a defensive stance ready for whatever the boy would throw at him.

Almost as if on cue, the sky opens up and it's a downpour. He opens his mouth to tell MK they couldn't train in this but MK is rushing forward with a war cry on his lips Wukong barely has any time to react dodging and blocking a flurry of blows.

"Mk stop! It's pouring!" He tries to reason with MK who only steps forward into a strike, Wukong barely has time to grab the staff, halting it from bashing his face in. He didn't want to do this, he always goes easy on MK so they could slowly build up to his level, but at this point, the boy wouldn't listen to reason.

He grabs the staff and digs his heel into the ear and shifts his weight. He flips MK over his body slamming them hard into the earth..he hears MK let out a gasp of pain and he worries he's actually hurt the boy.

"Kid oh my gosh! Are you ok-" he reaches for MK who looks stunned on his back looking up at the sky with wide eyes, water dripping down his face and mixing with the earth.

"You have been...holding back on me" MK whispers out his face scrunching up in what could only be described as pain and betrayal. He sits up with anger on his face

"You don't even use all your strength on me??!!!" He yells at Wukong who's now getting a turn to be stunned.

"Well...of course not bud. I don't want to hurt you." He looks soaked to the bone now shivering, his hair hangs limp while his clothes stick to his body.

"That's not fair!!! How can I get stronger if you aren't even trying to train me!" He yells shivering again. Even Wukong could feel the rain soaking his fur and making his clothes heavier.

"Come on MK….I'm doing my best to train you."

Wrong choice of words.

MK's face becomes vacant and broken. Tears now pouring down his cheeks and mixing with the rain.

"What, so you're saying it's MY fault?? That I'm u-untrainable??!" He yells, gripping his hair and tugs.

"That you're doing your best because it's so hard to train me? Cause I'm a failure??" Thunder cracks after a flash of light only serves to illuminate the look of betrayal carved into MKs face.

"Kid stop!" He grabs the boy by his shoulders trying to stop him from spiraling.

"You're doing AMAZING. Your progressing faster than I did at your age. But you GOT to keep in mind that it takes time to get where I'm at." MK sniffs his lip warbling and Wukong grabs his hands to squeeze it reassuringly.

They are shaking like a leaf and are ice cold in his grip.

“Your hands are so cold!" He rubs them together between his paws trying to warm them up. He brings the hands to his mouth breathing hot air into them. It seemed content productive with them standing in the rain.

"Come on. Let's get you inside and dried off, you will catch your death out here." MK nods numbly and Wukong leads him indoors to his stone house where a few monkeys have already holed themselves up for the storm. They chitter and shrieks of concern from the monkeys greet his ears as they fret over both their king and their quote-unquote 'brother'.

Wukong ushers MK to his bathroom where he throws a towel over Their head and tries to absorb all the water that his mop of a head consumed. MK just stands limp allowing him to dry his hair. It's concerning that he hasn't even let out a squeak since they came inside.

"MK…." He pulls the towel away to look at their face. Indoors now, out of the pelting rain, it's so much harder for MK to hide his tears. His cheeks are puffed out and his eyes are red as a constant stream drips down his face and chin adding to the puddle on the floor steadily.

“I just want to do better….be strong like you.” MK’s eyes flit to wukong guilty before looking away to his soaked shoes. It shoves a wedge between Wukongs ribs painfully and presses upward threatening to separate ribs from the flesh.

"Look at me." Wukong titles his chin up forcing Expresso's eyes to look at him.

"You're doing amazing. I want you to know that. Every day you surprise me who how much you have learned. " He explains and he sees the boy's chest hitch slightly another batch of tears joining his.

"I'm very proud of how far you have come." He smiles at the boy whose lip warbles again. A sopping wet body slaps into his as ML throws his arms around his chest and buries his face into his wet clothes. At first, Wukong has no idea how to react, his arms hovering over the wet form but when MK squeezes him tighter he is prompted to wrap his own arms around the boy. He runs his fingers through the wet locks and tries to warm them up with his body. Subconsciously hai tail finds MK's ankle and wraps around it as if he was trying to get every possible grip he could on the boy. He lets out a soothing purr on his chest as if he's coddling his own child instead of his successor.

At this point how could you tell the difference?

The line has been slowly blurred over time like rain against sidewalk chalk to the point he had no idea where he stood on which side.

At this point he couldn't be bothered to care. Which terrified him.

He pulls away eventually but his tail remains around MK's ankle.

"You should head home, you need to change out of your wet clothes so you don't catch a cold. Okay?" He asked, offering a lazy smile to MK who seemed marginally better and lips quirked with a shy smile.

"Okay. Can we still train again tomorrow?" They asked sheepishly and Wukong ruffles the top of his head

"Sure can bud! Bring your A-game because you moved up a level tonight and it's gonna be a bit harder." He smirks again and his words only seem to encourage. MK smiles brightly now, eyes shining with the promise of more difficult training.

"Can't wait!" He beams pulling away already and shakes like a dog adding more excess water to his bathroom floor.

"Okay okay, that's enough. Get on outta here. And take care of yourself."

MK salutes as he backs away from his mentor..

"Sure thing!"

Wukong walks him to the door his tail only letting go of the boy's ankle when he finally is driving away on his noodle cart. He waves to the boy something warm newly sprouted in his chest. The line between mentor and father figure blurring a little more

[arts-and-drafts]

Nightmare (Hermit Tommy AU)

TW: Graphic description of injury and death, suicide mention, severe PTSD

(Hey folks! This one has been in the draft bucket for a while and I'm never going to stop fiddling with it, so I'm posting it now before I regret it. I'm not happy with the "final" product but it'll never get posted if I keep messing with it. Seriously, mind the TWs!! Otherwise, enjoy)

-

Tommy smells gunpowder.

He's standing in a crater, everything he's ever fought for blown to pieces in front of his eyes by the one he called once called brother.

He sees his father for the first time in 7 years, and his sword is dripping with Wilbur's blood.

He sees Technoblade from above, and at a motion of his hand and a scathing cry of "hero" from his lips, withers descend upon the smoking chasm that used to be Tommy's home.

Tommy looks down to see Tubbo in his arms, a hole blown clean through his best friend's chest. He is still and cold, and Tommy is numb.

Tubbo's corpse rises from his arms like a marionette on strings, sharp ram horns dripping crimson curving over his face. His eyes are open now, and they stare cruelly into Tommy's very soul.

"Selfish." Tubbo's corpse whispers in a raspy voice, torn to shreds from screams. Tommy can only watch in paralyzed horror as Tubbo procures a compass, Tommy's compass, and crushes it to dust in front of him.

Tommy's knees buckle, and he's falling, falling, falling off a tower made from his own hands that stretches to build height. Tommy's vision floods white with pain as his fall ends in a pit of lava, molten netherrack filling his lungs and burning him from the inside out.

A hand clasps his as he reaches for the surface, and he's pulled out of the lava lake by a figure with a smiling mask. Tommy winces as he feels a sharp pain in his abdomen, and looks down to see an arrow's tail sprouting from his flesh.

Tommy looks up, and Dream is ten paces across from him on the Prime Path, bow still raised from the fatal shot. As Tommy falls into the river, his disks spin wildly above him, caught by Dream's gloved hand out of midair.

Tommy's back hits the stone edge of the Pit, and he drops to the floor from a blow Techno landed that knocked him to his knees.

"You killed him," Tommy says desperately, choking as his own blood fills his mouth, rage and grief burning like fire through his veins.

"It stays in the pit." Techno replies coldly, and when Tommy looks up through hazing vision he sees the head of a rocket aimed right between his eyes.

Tommy jolts awake as soon as Techno pulls the trigger, disoriented and screaming. His arms are pinned, he can't escape, why can't he get out, help help help-

"--ommy! Wake up! Tommy!!" Joe's voice becomes clear, and Tommy's vision finally clears enough from his memories to see the poet's face, terrified and pale. Tommy stops screaming, though his trembling limbs and heaving chest are out of his control.

"Tommy, focus on me, look at me, okay? I'm here, I'm right here, it was a dream, it's not real, it's not real--" Joe's assurances tumble from panicked lips, shushing and comforting as best he can. Tommy blinks several times, his mind struggling to adjust to the waking realm as adrenaline continues to ravage his body.

"Hey, hey, that's it, I'm here," Joe says, and Tommy feels the man's delicate hand lightly slap his face. "Come back, Tom, it's not real, you're okay--"

Tommy gasps as if by command, and finally feels air fill his lungs. "There you go, there you go--" Joe says encouragingly, wiping Tommy's face of tears as his body's convulsing lessens. "Shh, shh--you're okay, you're safe. Come back, kid."

"Tubbo--" Tommy chokes, his mind still foggy with confusion and fear. "No," Joe says gently. "Joe Hills. You're in Hermitcraft, bud. Come back."

Tommy blinks again, and Joe can feel the tension ease in the boy's rigid limbs by a fraction.

"What--what--" Tommy whispers hoarsely, his senses gradually returning to him. His shirt is stuck to his back from being soaked in sweat, yet his skin feels cold and clammy. He blinks several times, his eyes adjusting to the dark of Joe's doghouse-turned-cabin.

"You were having a nightmare," Joe murmurs softly, and Tommy realizes the poet is rubbing soothing circles into Tommy's hand with his thumb. "It...it was a rough one, huh."

It's more of a comment than a question, but Tommy shakily nods anyways. He notices Joe seems like there's a weight on his shoulders that's crushing his posture.

"I couldn't wake you," Joe says, and he runs a tired hand through his hair as he settles to sit on the foot of Tommy's bed.

An apology sticks in Tommy's throat. He's learned to be better at that sort of thing since he came here, but Joe didn't seem to be expecting one. Tommy swallows the words and tries to focus on his breathing.

"I didn't want to bring it up," Joe says, and he doesn't look at Tommy. "I know you like your privacy, and I didn't want to pry, but...this is getting out of hand, bud." Joe's voice softens in weariness at the last of the sentence. Tommy unconsciously tenses.

"Who is Tubbo?"

Joe finally looks up with piercing blue eyes, and Tommy forgets how to breathe.

"Did they hurt you?" Joe asks, his tone gentle but demanding. "You've gotta talk about it, Tom, or the nightmares are never going to stop."

Tommy violently shakes his head until it hurts, putting his hands up. "No, no--he didn't, he--" Tommy's chest heaves with memories that rip open the scars of his heart, fresh tears slipping down his soaked cheeks.

Did he hurt him?

Tubbo exiled him. Tubbo damned him to a life 1000 blocks away that wasn't worth living. Tubbo didn't ever visit, Tubbo didn't care, Tubbo never came, even when he knew Tommy needed him.

No--no, no. He was--IS, he IS his best friend, Tubbo is his right hand man, he loves him, he'd never do that on purpose, he'd never put an empty hole of a nation above him--

But he did.

Joe sits patiently beside Tommy as he bitterly cries, keeping a hand on his back all the while. Tommy did better if he had physical contact, picked up from his past that Joe didn't know and didn't ask about.

Tommy's sobs gradually quieted. He barely notices he's leaning against Joe now, and the hermit has his arm over him in a sort of half hug. It's an act of compassion that Tommy takes for pity, but for once he doesn't care.

"...he did." Tommy croaks after what feels like an eternity. "But--h-he didn't--....i-it's complicated." The boy took a shuddering breath and closes his eyes.

"I miss him." He cries, his voice small and broken. "I miss him so fucking much, Joe," Tommy bites his tongue to suppress another pitiful sob. "H--He was my right hand man..."

Joe's chest rumbles with a sympathetic noise against Tommy's cheek. "It's...it's natural to miss what was. Letting go of the past is something that many never accomplish in their life." The poet comments solemnly.

Tommy squeezes his eyes shut tight and buries his face into Joe's shirt, a sob sticking behind a lump in his throat that refused to dissipate. Joe pulls him closer, and lets him shake in his arms.

"...It's hard to forgive. I've been there, kiddo. It's hard." Joe murmurs, and he leans his cheek against the top of Tommy's head.

The boy tenses when the hermit's hand moves to run through his hair, and his host stops abruptly at the movement.

"It's--it's okay." Tommy whispers, near imperceptibly, allowing himself this one moment of complete vulnerability when he needed it most.

Joe continued, hesitantly, but as soon as he touches Tommy's hair the kid melts into him. A look of pure serenity crosses the poor boy's face, and though it was sans a smile, he looked more at peace than Joe had ever seen him in his 7 months with them.

His expression soon fell into nothingness, and small snores filled the quiet air as Tommy went out like a light. Joe watches in slow realization as Tommy didn't twitch or whimper or cry as he usually did upon leaving consciousness; he was finally still and calm as he deserved to be in rest.

Joe presses his mouth into a thin line as he continues to run his soft fingers through the kid's yellow hair. Whatever happened to Tommy, it was worse than the poet could even comprehend, and that fact made bile rise in his throat.

Joe was not a vengeful man. His philosophy was that everything happened for a reason, that any cruel injustice that befell him or his friends was the cause of some greater force's plan far beyond his control.

Yet, how years of war and bloodshed and betrayal was a deserving fate for a child, Joe could not understand or excuse.

He believed that the passage of events was out of his control and part of a bigger design. But he also believed in free will, and if he had anything to do with how his story was written, he would ensure that this little boy who was so broken by the world he came from would get the life he should've had from the beginning.

Joe presses a light kiss to the boy's temple before slowly standing, lifting Tommy in his arms and setting him down on his bed.

"I promise you'll have it better here, kiddo." Joe whispers softly, settling the old blanket back over the sleeping boy. "I'll give you a good life if it kills me."

END.

[bts-hyperfixation]

Play time - kinktober day 8

OT7 - o r gy

Smut 18+

Contains member on member and anaI

The boys hadn’t been back in the dorm five seconds before they started looking for you. You’d decided to stay in the dorm while they were away, so you still felt close to them. Yoongi had texted you as soon as they landed with an ETA and the promise of presents. Your heart fluttered at the thought of seeing your boys again, but it didn’t stop your mischievous side from immediately searching for a hiding place. You were never one to make things too easy for them.

You found a small hideaway at the back of Jungkook’s closet and pulled a box in front of the entrance to obscure you further. When you heard the door open you sent the first hint to the group chat.

Y/N: I’m hidden somewhere cosy (emoji) the first one to find me can have me all night.

JK: Anymore hints for finding you?

KTH: or do you just want us to tear the whole place apart… because I will

Y/N: See what you can find and maybe I’ll send more if I get bored

You put your phone down and listen for the boys’ whereabouts. Knowing them, they’ve probably already split up, there are no friends in competition. You hear someone enter Jungkook’s bedroom, so you squish yourself closer to the wall. You can just about make out the maknae’s profile through the small gap you’d left. He places his bag on the bed and glances around the room. For someone with so much talent, he really is terrible at treasure hunts. After he leaves, you send another hint.

Y/N: You guys have a great laundry detergent, smells so fresh

KSJ: Laundry room?

MYG: Maybe? I don’t know where there would be a hiding place in there though.

The search continued, and you sat for another 10 minutes, getting a little bored with the game.

Y/N: (Bunny emoji)

PJM: ARE YOU IN JK’S ROOM???

KNJ: HE TOLD US HE CHECKED THERE

JK: I did…

It’s not long before you hear seven pairs of footsteps heading towards the room. There is a small commotion as each of the tries to enter the room first.

“It’s my room” Jungkook whines as his hyungs push him out of the way.

“You lost your chance when you came in here the first time” Yoongi countered

“Move I should get to go first… I’m the oldest” by the sound of his voice, Jin had puffed himself up ready to take on anyone that disrespected him… of course this led to laughing from the other members. He may be the eldest, but he is by far the least threatening. You can’t help giggling at the conversation. They hear the sound and stop arguing immediately, heads snapping in the direction of the closet. You held your breath hoping they would go back to arguing, you may be getting a little bored, but you really hated to lose. No such luck. The boys made their way into the room, suddenly becoming one cohesive group again. Namjoon is the one to remove the makeshift box door you had pulled in front of your hidey hole.

Being met by his amazing dimples did help soothe the burn of making such a silly mistake and letting yourself be revealed. He offered you his hand and helped you out of the hiding spot before pulling you into the tightest hug he could manage. Soon you were smothered by all the boys, struggling to breath, but also struggling to care as you relaxed into their touch. This world tour had been their longest yet. After a short while they released you and you took in their appearances. Longer hair and tired eyes, but still very much as handsome as when they left.

“So does Namjoon get me? Technically he did find me” you tease walking your fingers up the leader’s chest. The boys around you letting out incredulous groans.

“That’s not fair, we all found you together, he just moved the box!” Jimin whined wrapping his arms around your waist, his way of protesting your advances on his hyung.

“Well then what do you suggest? Want to share?” each of the boys looked at each other in turn and nodded. They often shared you between them, after all they loved each other just as much, but it was very rare for all seven to be with you at the same time. They liked to make sure you were always comfortable. Right now though, all any of you wanted was to feel each other’s skin.

Jimin’s hands move to the hem of your shirt, playing with the fabric and exposing a slither of your stomach to the other boys. Hoseok is on his knees in front of you instantly, licking a line across your newly exposed skin. His fingers hook around your belt loops and he shuffles your jeans down your legs, just as Jimin pulls you shirt over your head. The remaining five watch you closely. Their eyes graze up your body taking in the new lingerie you’d bought for their return. The cute bralette and bikini set did wonders for you. Jimin’s hands find their way to your covered breasts, rubbing your nipples through the sheer fabric making you lean back into his chest and let out a sigh of pleasure. Hoseok, never one to be outdone, takes this opportunity to sharply bite into the flesh of your thigh.

Clearly the sight had been too much for some of the boys. Taehyung and Namjoon were together in a similarly compromising position, Tae’s sweats around his ankles as Joonie rubbed at the younger boy’s member through his boxers. You let yourself focus on the two of them. The sight has you so aroused, you can feel your core dripping already. Hoseok chooses this moment to run a finger along the middle of your panties.

“So wet already?” Hoseok taunts “Did you really miss us that much?” you fidget at the sensation and nod sheepishly, all eyes on you suddenly making you shy. Hoseok chuckles a little then goes back to running his tongue along your thighs, teasing you softly. Every time he got close to your underwear he would pull away and start a similar trail up your other leg.

“Fuck this” Jungkook’s curse is the only warning you get before you are thrown over his shoulder and carried out into the main part of his bedroom. He carefully lays you down on the mattress before climbing on top of you. His lips meet yours in a passionate kiss, months of pent up need and want manifesting in this one action. It doesn’t take long until the two of you are broken apart by a slightly disgruntled Yoongi. the older member reprimands the maknae for taking you away. You giggle as he helps JK strip and decides on his punishment. Of course, the youngest is all too eager to please, he drops to his knees mouth wide and ready to be abused. Yoongi unbuckles his pants and places his dick on Jungkook’s waiting tongue. Without hesitation Jungkook deep throats his hyung. The usually stoic rapper lets out a scandalous wail.

In the meantime, Jin has made his way to you, sitting up on the pillows. He pulls you so you are sat between his legs and signals for you to remove your panties. You oblige and throw the offending article on to the floor. His long fingers trail down your sides and find their way to your clit, he rubs the sensitive nub in lazy circles as the two of you watch Jungkook’s punishment, although from this angle it definitely looks like more of a treat. The sensation made you wriggle, causing pleasure but not enough to help you get anywhere.

“What’s wrong baby?” Jin’s lips graze your ears as he speaks. You whine a little in response hoping he would get the message. “Words babygirl… I need your words” you take a deep breath before you speak

“I need you to move faster” You had never been good at vocalising what you wanted from a lover. A fatal flaw really, it had often left you unsatisfied before you found the band. Instantly his fingers build speed. Figures of 8 drawn in your most sensitive area, the exhilaration almost proving too much for you. If that hadn’t been enough what came next certainly helped. Your eyes were scrunched closed trying to focus on the feeling Jin was giving you, when his expert fingers were joined by an equally talented tongue. You opened one eye and found Taehyung staring back up at you. His deep brown eyes filled with desire as he lapped up the juices that had been flowing freely onto the sheets below you. You’re orgasm hit quickly with the new addition. Both boys continuing until they were sure you had come back down, the stimulation almost proving too much as you whimpered. Taehyung kissed his way up your body. You expected him to finish his trail with your lips but instead he aims around you to access Jin. You’re left sandwiched between the two men as they shared the taste of you in a deep kiss.

You glance passed them to watch the show Jungkook and Yoongi were still giving. The sight calls to you and you crawl out from under Taehyung. Positioning yourself behind the elder, you take the opportunity to part his cheeks and run your tongue along his entrance. The action shocks him, forcing him to lose the control he had. Hot cum shoots down JK's unsuspecting throat. The black haired boy chokes at the unexpected sensation but does his best to swallow what he is given. Yoongi pets his head, praising him, before turning to glare at you. A sheepish grin spreads across your face as you shrug innocently at him.

Unfortunately, the domineering rapper doesn’t fall for your feigned innocence. Instead, pulling you up from your knees and grabbing your hair at the nape of your neck.

“That wasn’t nice y/n, poor Kookie could’ve gotten hurt.” His face is millimetres from yours. You can feel his lips graze against yours as he speaks

“I'm sorry” your eyes are on the ground, an effort to suppress the shit-eating grin fighting it’s way on to your face. The pale boy uses his leverage to force you back on to the bed. You find yourself lying with your head on Namjoon’s toned thigh, your mouth now in the perfect place to lick at his hardened member. You stick out your tongue and try to lick at the tantalising treat that had been placed in front of you. Just before you can wrap your mouth around it, Joon pulls it from your reach.

“I believe you’re in trouble baby... Naughty girls dont get what they want” Joon’s eyes are filled with mischievous malice. You were too busy having a staring contest with the leader to notice the punishment Yoongi was preparing for you. That is until the chilly sensation of lube makes an appearance in between your butt cheeks. Suga laughs as you jump in surprise, coating his finger in the liquid before pressing his way into your back entrance. You squeak at the intrusion and the tag-teaming rapline just laugh. Namjoon takes this opportunity to let his dick fall back within your reach and You lap at it hungrily. Just when you get used to the stretch of one finger Yoongi adds one more, prepping you, he repeats this process until he decides you've had enough foreplay. He summons Jungkook to take his places, first rubbing a generous amount of lube on his lovers cock. Jungkook lines himself up and pushes deep inside your ass. You groan around Namjoon’s dick making him quiver at the added pleasure.

Jk waits until he feels you relax to start moving, placing your legs over his shoulders to gain better access. Neither boy was able to last very long due to the pent up energy they had left over from tour. Namjoon came first, coming all over your face. There’s nothing that boy likes more than to see you wearing him. Jungkook sees his hyung's seed dripping from your chin as he opened his previously squeezed eyes. It is enough to send him over his edge. He pulls out of you and aims his cum to mix in the same place. The maknae would take any excuse he could to see you covered in multiple members cum.

Jimin took this opportunity to crawl on the bed next to you, running his tongue through the puddle on the side of your face. He hungrily lapped the remains of the cum from your face before kissing you deeply dragging you away from Namjoon in the process. The middle member let out a whine in protest until Jungkook filled the newly vacated space idly tracing patterns on Joon's stomach as they both recovered from their highs. The two were notoriously needy after their orgasms.

Jimin moved you so you were straddling him, his hard tip pressed into your opening, waiting. Waiting for you to lower yourself down into his lap properly. You take an agonizingly long time to slide down his full length, letting out a long moan as you did so. You slowly bounce yourself up and down, winding him up, wondering how long it would take for him to flip you over and take you as hard and fast as he could. The man was not known for his sexual patience.

Just as you thought, the smaller man can’t wait long before you are manoeuvred on to your hands and knees. Your met with the sight of Hobi's dick stood to full attention in front of you. Clear that the two mean to take you together you open your mouth ready and willing. The two thrust in tandem, in, out, in, out. The speed increasing gradually as both chase their orgasms. You find yourself also nearing your second finish just as a new pair of hands find their way to your clit. Taehyung appears from underneath you rubbing at your clit fiercely, to a point where it’s almost painful. Almost. Your second orgasm causes both your pussy and throat to spasm, finishing both men off in one quick motion. The seven of you are panting and sweaty, collapsed in cuddly heaps on the large bed.

“So how was tour? You ask after catching your breath

Kinktober

Masterlist

Please let me know what you think or if you have any requests for the last 6 fics here

[bts-trash-blog]

Perfect~Kim Namjoon

Summery: Namjoon just a good pup

Pairing: Sub!Namjoon X Fem dom!reader

Warning: Degrating names, pegging(Anal play), Mistress/pup, claws, breeding kink, slight mentions of a safe word(He calls yellow witht he color system), aftercare and mentions of a sub drop.

AN: My first complet sub!bts smut..umm yeah I loved writting 

The sound of a whimper made your head snap up away from the document you were reviewing for work, eyes  looking down there you saw Namjoon. On his knees his wide doe eyes  looking up at you. He had ear clipped in his hair, and a collar around in his hands making you raise an eyebrow down at the man kneeling in front of you.

“Yes puppy?” You questioned, your head tilting as he moved closer, his hands laying the soft leather collar you both had picked out online. It's a beautiful grey color, with jeweled studded detail it had made his eyes sparkle when he saw it on your screen body melted against yours. The tag was a heart shaped, gun steel color 'mistress's pup’ engraved on one side and the other was ‘Joonie’, when it arrived a week after ordering it he had jumped up and down excitedly not being able to wait to have it around his neck.

“Can we  play,miss?” His question had you smiling brightly as you moved away from your desk, the chair rolling had him backing up as you patted the top of his head. The clipped in ears slightly tilting making him huff as he smiled brightly up at you. His dimples on show as well as his half mooned eyes as he bowed his head slightly, smile fading as he looked at you from the corner of his eye.

“Puppies don’t wear clothes now do they?” Your question was playful, teasing, making his face turn a bright red as he stuttered out a breath of air. His hands moved to raise his arms. asking you to take his white large shirt making you smile brightly at him. Placing the collar on the desk you lean forward, hands tugging at the end of his shirt making him glup, as you raise it off of him. The honey tan skin had your mouth almost watering, as the semi-defined muscle of his years of dance showed. Making him blush even more as you place the fabric shirt on the desk. “You take your pants off.” he nodded as you turned back your computer, finishing the section of the document you were editing as you hear the sound of fabric drop and a whimper, most likely due to the cold air of your home touching the tip of his cock.

“Mistress?” he whispered, making you hold a finger up, indicating for him to wait making him let out a whine as you chuckled slightly.

“Just gotta finish this last bit up, then we can play.” he let out a sigh, as you turn to him and smile. “Why don’t you get out the toys you want to play with pup? That way we can go straight into having fun. After you get the toys, get into position on the bed okay?” Your words made his eyes brighten as he nodded, the sigh of him, bare and his cock semi hard as he let out a soft cheer as he moved away from you office in your shared apartment. Moving to your bedroom as you moved to finish up as quickly as possible.

Once you were done, you grabbed his collar and stood up moving out of your office. Your sweatpants hanggin slightly low as your own top was ripped off and dropped in the hall. Knowing you’ll have to go around and clean up anyway after the scene, smiling brightly at your boyfriend as you walked into the room. His body kneeling, butt on his heels as his arms were up, hands placed on the back of his head as he stared up at you.  His eyes were glossed over as he stared at your eyes watching your every move.  Looking to the chest you keep under your bed, you see toys placed on top making you smile brightly at him. There was a leash matching the gun steel grey collar in your hand, and a strap on, one that was around eight inches along with a pair of claws that you had bought online a few weeks ago. They were ten black metal claws, the tips sharp enough to scratch maybe even cut slightly into the skin. He had mentioned them to you months ago, so when they showed up he had instantly wanted to use them, but he had a schedule and he could risk the marks to be shown.

“So good baby, want your collar on?”  You watch his head nod, his hands still locked behind his head as you moved to crawl on the bed till you were kneeling in front of him. “Color baby?”

“Green.” The instant word had you chuckling as you pressed a kiss to his lips making him let out a purr like sound, as you pull away you move to wrap and latch the collar around his throat. The tag hitting at his collar bone, the large ring it hung from made you bite your lip as you yanked on it, making him whimper as you chuckled.

“So pup, I see you want me to breed you, hm? Is that all you good for?” Your words had hip biting his lip as he closed his eyes, his body shuttering at your worlds making you laugh. “Yeah you're just a bitch, a bitch to breed a little slut.”

“Mistress, please want to play.” he whined, making you laugh, as you gripped his cheek, swishing his face making his eyes open as he looked at you.  His body laxing, arms dropping as his eyes half closed, clicking your tongue you tap your finger against his cheek.

“Did I say you can talk? You’re just a little bitch in heat. Do bitches talk huh? Also did you really just leave your positions without me saying? Humble now.” You growled, making him nod, turning around to face away from you dropping on his chest, his arm reached out as his head was placed to the side. His ass on display legs spread as far apart as his shoulders making you chuckle as you watch a drop of per-cum drip from his tip, slowly string down onto your sheets making you roll your eyes. “Already leaking, from just a few words, such a naughty pup. Diguesting.”

Your body moves off the bed, your hand grabbing the strap on slipping your sweats on you let out a sigh looking at the toy in front of you grabbing the claws you start to slip the rings down past your knuckle making you smile brightly at them. Your eyes clean as you drag one down your neck, testing the sharpness, your skin tingle slightly burned as you did. Looking over you see his eyes on your the ears on the top of his head josled as he moves his hips back and forth, watching his movement you glare as knowing the tip of his cock was rubbing against the bed sheets.

“Knock it off, or you aren’t gonna come tonight, let alone sleep near me. You hear me you whore?” Watching his hips stop you look to his face and tilt your head, slightly smirking as you realize he was waiting for your permission to talk. “Speak when spoken to.”

“Yes mistress, I hear you.” Nodding you moved back on the bed, behind him. Your hands slapping against his ass making him jolt as you squeeze. The claws dug into his flesh, making him let out a choked sob as you rotated the gripped flesh. “Fu-fuck.” he whimpered. You laugh, as your other hand scratches down his back, watching the redness rise on his skin had you as you finally let go of his ass. Watching the indentations on his skin stick had you laughing some more as you spanked that area again.

“I love this ass.” Your words had him whimpering, whining as you scratch at his hips pulling his ass against your pubic bone making him slightly move down the bed as he let out a whine. “Can’t wait to fuck it, have you crying. You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

“Yes Mistress.”

“Want me to fuck you, huh?”

“Yes Mistress, please Mistress. I’ve been a good pup, a good boy.” He blabbered, making you roll your eyes as you hand reached down and grabbed his cock. The soft skin rubbing against the palm of your hand. You know he felt the coldness of the metal, as you watch his body shiver goosebump spreading across his thighs and up his back.

“Oh really? So you’ve been good?” You watch as the back of his head moves, making you yanked at his dick. Pulling it back and letting it go watching as it slightly slapped at his stomach. “So if i asked you to eat me out and then we go to bed, right now. Would you have no complaints, no begging to cum? Right cause you’re a good boy?” You knew he wanted to protest, but he nodded. Making you smile.

“What ever mistress wants, pup is at her disposal. Mistress owns me.” Letting out a breath you pull back and smirk.

“Come on now, grab the strap and put on me.”

“Yes mistress.” You watch him get off the bed, your body following as he grabbed the strap and turned to you. Smiling at him you grabbed his chin and pulled his face to you, reaching for his leash you hook it making him let out a whine.

“I love you.” You whispered, reminding him that the words you say were nothing but a part of the play.

“I love you too.” He leaned in for a kiss, making you smile as you gently pressed your lips against his push him away you nodded. He dropped to his knees and lifted your legs into the holes of the strap. Lifting it up till it was at your hips. The pink didlo stick out almost hitting his face, making you fight back a laugh as he hooked you in. Pressing a kiss to your thighs making you move your hand and pull through his hair.

“Go on, suck me off.” He nodded, his hand moving to the base as you scratch at his scalp making him wince slightly as he finally wrapped his lips around the tip. He was taking too long to take it completely down his throat, so you jolted your hips. Shoving yourself completely into his mouth and down your throat making him cough and gag. Drool passing his lips as he looks up at you with tear filled eyes. “So good fow me, gonna fuck your throat, the fuck your ass wide open. Gonna feel nothing but me.” Suddenly you remove most of yourself from his mouth and sna your hips back in his hands moving to rest on the top of your thighs as you pound into his mouth. Again and again. The sound of him gaging, trying to keep up his breath you pulled away, making him let out a cough as your free hand moved forward, your pointer finger scratch softly down his cheek.

“Such a messy boy.” You mumbled, his hazed eyes, swollen wet lips covered in his own saliva as he panted at you had your eyes almost rolling. Toes almost curling. He was deep into his headspace as you nodded to the bed. “Stretch or no stretch?” You asked, making him whimper as he looked at you.

“No stretch wants you, now.” He let out words spread out with deep breaths and pauses making you nod as he got back into position, his ass in the air as you moved behind him. Spreading his cheeks apart, you let saliva gather in your cheek as you let it slip out of your mouth and onto his hold you hand moving to your cock. Spreading you spit with the tip making him whine. Pushing the bulbous tip into his tight hole, you couldn’t help but let out an almost animalistic growl as his body almost seemed to have sucked you in. “fu-fcuk.” he let out but then a loud sob passed his lips as you slammed into him completely, pausing for a second as he cried out.

“Color baby?”

“Gr-yellow.” He changed his mind mid word, making you pause as you nodded to yourself.

“What do you need, baby, want me to pull out?”

“Lube..bit dry.” He mumbled against the sheets making you nod, your body pulling away from his making him whine as you kissed his back.

“Such a good boy, gonna make it comfortable okay?” He nodded as you reached for the bottle, squirting some onto your cock and rubbing some against his hole making him whine. The feeling of the metal claw almost curving into him as him pushing back against you. Making you roll your eyes playfully, moving back behind him you press the tip back against him, hand moving his hips. “Gonna push in again okay, Namjoon?”

“Yes, that's okay Y/n.” As you do, instead of a cry a moan passes his lips, as you push slowly in, your lip being bitten as you finally fill him completely making him whine. “Green. Im green. Mistress please fuck me.” His words were leaving his lips after a couple of seconds, letting him adjust to the feeling, wanting to make sure he was comfortable. Nodding you pull out completely and slam back him, the leash in hand resting over her shoulder as you rapidly fucked into him.

“F-fuck.” A breathy moan left his lips as your hand wrapped the leather leash around that you had in your hand, pulled it back, choking him slightly. The feeling of you moving in and out of his gaping hole at a rapid speed had his legs shaking as his hands collapsed from under him. The ears that were placed on top of his head, sliding out of place as a burning feeling filled his left ass cheek, as another smack made his dick twitch.  

“What a good little bitch.” Your voice was filled with a teasing tone making Namjoon let out a whimper as his body bolted forwards, his body naturally trying to get away from the ribbed pink strap he had picked just for him that was drilling into him making his sense go into overdrive. His eyes fill with tears as one of his hands moves behind him trying to push you away, you claws being dragged down his side making him let out a yelp. “What's too much, you slut?”

“Yeah-yeAHHH” he let out, making you pause, completely sheathed in him as you bent over his back, leash pulled making the collar press against his throat harder. Making him let out a ragged breath, once you had released it he shivered when he felt you rotate your hips. Running the claws against his side had him shivering as he let out a dry sob, the combination of you rotating your hips and scratching your claws against his skin had his throat dry as he clawed at your arm.

“Want me to stop, hmm?” You asked him, your tongue moving to lick at his temple, his eyes widening at the thought of you stopping making him shake his head, his breathing growing rapid. Panicked that you would stop, that you would leave him so close to the edge.

“No..no don't stop mistress, I’m a good boy. It feels so good. Feels too good.” He whimpered at the end making you chuckle as you spack his ass again making him grunt, the tips of the claws pushing slightly in the flesh of his ass.

“Nothing but a little breeding bitch. I bet you wished I had a real cock, fill you with my cum. Hmm . What would your members think if they saw you like this, panting, shaking like a bitch in heat. I bet you'd beg one of them to fill you up like a little whore you are.”

“Won’t care. Just want you...move please Breed me, please. I’m your bitch, no one else can have me. No one but you mistress..” He cried making you laugh as you moved up from his back and pulled out, just till the tip was pressed inside of him, his hips wiggling making your hands rest on his hips stilling him.

“That's right. Mine.” Your thrust completely into him making him scream out as you start to move. “My bitch.” Rapidly moving in and out  as you let go of the leash you grab his hair pulling him back against your chest, the feeling the claws slightly slipping digging into his scalp had you smile brightly as he panted. The sigh of his eyes wide, tongue almost hanging out of his mouth as he pants with each stroke, hitting his prostate over and over again.

“Yours. Yours. God I’m yours.” His words were met with a keen, as you grabb his cosk and started to stroke him with the same rhythm of your thrust. Making him let out a drawn out whine.

“Such a good pup, good bitch.” You whispered against his ear, your tongue rolling his ear lob into your mouth as your teeth pressed down. Tugging slightly, making him try to pull away as he let out a loud cry.

“Gonna cum, gonna cum. Can I?” he asked, making you let go of his ear as you moved again, the burn in your thighs had you beggin for him to cum, but your brain wanted him to edge and edge till he just couldn’t anymore.  But your physical drain had caught up to your mentally making you let out a frustrated huff.

“You can cum pup, come for Mistress.” You mumbled, kiss his neck making him moan as you speed up both of your stokes. You felt his body tense as he let out a hiss, the feeling of his hot cum squirting up your hand made you smirk into his skin.

“Thank you, thank you.” He repeated over and over again as you slowly stopped your movements, the feeling of you still completely inside of him as he came down from his high.

“You did so good baby, such a good pup. Gonna pull out okay?” He nodded as you slowly let go of his cock, it falling heavy as you pulled out and moved him down and onto his back. His eyes were closed and his mouth was slightly jared open. “Did so good, so-so good.” You took off each of your claws and placed them on your night stand as you slowly got up and made him whine. “Just gonna grab a warm washcloth, okay> Got it clean you up.” he opened his eyes as he nodded, your body moving to the bathroom as you unclipped your harness. Placing it on the bathroom counter, you grabbed a clean washcloth with your clean hand. Moving right to the room, one you had cleaned your hand and wetted the wash cloth. Moving back you see his eyes open staring at the ceiling as you move to sit on the edge on his side making his eyes snap to you as he lets out a sof sob making your eyes widen. “Oh baby, i’m here okay? I’m not going anywhere.” You reassured him by running the warm washcloth against his skin, wrapping it softly around his cock to clean as you press your forehead to his. “You did so perfect baby.”

“Really?”

“Really, so perfect baby.” You said smiling at him as you press a kiss to his lips making him whine as he does. His hand moving to cup your cheek, pushing it back to rest in your hair. “Now I’m gonna give you some of my clothes okay? Then we’ll cuddle for a bit, then food?” You asked head tilt to the side as he nodded, making you smile.

Everything really was perfect.

[b3lphie]

✿ good slut — asmodeus !

info ; porn w no plot ;) sub/dom, femdom!reader, sub!asmodeus, semi public sex(?), slut-shaming, face slapping, pegging, sucking on that fat plastic cock <33, choking(?), mommy kink, degrading

warning ; nsfw basically lmao

a/n ; omg i haven’t written any smut in a WHILE DJSJDJKS,,,, god it feels weird lmao. i worked a lil TOO hard on this skajsjs but uhhh neways- i hope you guys enjoy <3333 (plz don’t criticize me too harshly lmao 😓)

“god, you’re such a fucking slut, you know that?”

you growled as you pinned asmo against the cold tile walls in the nightclub bathroom. asmo had let out moan as you bit down on his supple flesh, leaving a pretty red mark on his neck. “dancing all up on that you... what the fuck was your intention, hm?” you forced him to look up at you your gaze was almost threatening.

“aw come on y/n-chan! i was just having a little fun~” he batted his lashes up at you and played a coy smile. he was teasing you— he has that little teasing glint in his eyes. he knew why he did it. how annoying, you thought as you chuckled lowly. you smacked his face harshly and his breath hitched, moaning from the burning sting on his cheek. “mmm, that hurt y/n-chan~” he moaned out then giggled. “shut up, whore.” you spat.

your free hand went down and tugged at the short pink pleated skirt he was wearing, still keeping your gaze on him. “with that skimpy ass skirt. you tryna make jealous, huh?” you leaned in closer to his face, lips ghosting over his. “you wanted me to fuck you, right? you wanted me fuck your pretty little cunny stupid right, babyboy?” asmo felt his cock twitch from your lewd words. you pressed a quick kiss on lips, bitting down gently on his bottom lip before pulling away. “you want me to fuck you so bad that you had go on and act up for it. such a naughty little princess.” you said as your hands slipped up his crop top playing with his perky nipples. he gasped and whined, bitting down on his lip. “all you had to was ask for it baby.” you chuckle, pinching one of his nipples. “ah— mommy!” he cried out. you licked your lips, “on your knees,” you demanded. “now.” and with that, he got on his knees for you. “good boy.” you breathed out. you unbuckled your belt and pulled down your pants, the plastic pink cock springing free— which took him by surprise a little. asmo couldn’t help but let a small giggle, “oh? and why did you wear this, y/n-chan?” he smirked up at you. you rolled your eyes and smacked the tip of the dildo against his lips lightly. “shut up and suck it.”

gripping it with both of his hands, asmo opened his mouth and began to suck on the plastic pink toy. his eyes flickering up to you, he licked the side of it down slowly then back up, going back to kiss the parts that where he missed. a treated the dildo like it was a real cock, sucking on the tip as if it felt good to you, putting the cock deeper into his mouth as if you could feel him around you. “that’s a good slut, just like that.” you moaned out, patting his hair as he continue to suck you off. “you look so pretty with your lips around my cock, baby.” you said. asmo moaned, sedning vibrations down the dildo’s length, making it hum lightly on against your clit and causing you to sigh from the small bit of pleasure.

you grabbed a fistful of his champagne-colored locks, you pushed the pink cock deeper into his mouth. your smirked as his began to tear up, his shaky hands finding your abdomen. “come on, i know you sucked plenty of dick before baby.” you laughed almost sadisticly as you began to thrust your hips. he gagged slightly around it, saliva dripped from the corner of his mouth as you tugged the back of his, slidding him off the dildo. he gasped for some air and coughed a little, his sticking out a little as he looked back up at you with teary eyes. you wiped away his the tears pooling at his corners and put your thumb in his mouth, sucking and licking it slowly. “mommy’s good little boy.” you praised.

you helped him up and pulled him into a heated kissed, tongues colliding against each other and teeth hitting each other lightly. “mmm~ mommy please,” he whimpered, pulling away from the kiss. “please what, asmo?” you asked, palming his cock through his skirt, mewling from the pleasure. “p-please fuck my pretty cunny until i pass out, please..!” he begged, keening as you slipped your hands up skirt and rubbed the tip with a palm of your hand, bucking up into your palm for more.

you couldn’t help but smile from his begging, “since you asked so nicely, princess,” making him turn around as you lift up his skirt and press your cock against his ass. “i’ll give you what you ever so desperately want.” he yelped as you smacked his ass harsly, leaving a light red print on his cheek.

he moaned as you spit onto his hole, babbling small ‘thank you mommy’s’. you carefully line the head of the plastic cock against his hole and slid it in and back out slowly, watching the cock sink into asmo’s pretty little ass. you then grabbed his hips and slammed back into him harshly, making him moan out loudly with a small cry. you began to thrust your hips in a fast motion, shoving the cock hard and deep inside of him. asmo keens and whines start to echo, as he felt your cock hit all the right spots. “m-more!!” he cries out. you then wrap your arms around his waist, his back now pressing up against you as he let out pornagraphic-like. a breathy moan escaped past your lips as you wraped your fingers around his cock and began to jack him off.

“does my cock feel good? does mommy’s cock make you feel full, hm?” you hum in his ear. “mmm fuck!— fuck yes!!” he mewls, high pitched moans fly past his pink lips as you continued to pound relentlessly into his tight hole. “must be because because you’re moaning way too fucking loud, princess.” you chcukled. “you must want everyone to know that only i can make your cunny feel this full and good,” you said as you quickly laid harsh smacks against his ass cheeks. he could only moan in response as he felt himself draw closer to finishing. “‘m so close, so close!” he cried loudly, his arms wrapping around your neck. “go on then, come for me baby.” you whisper in his ear. one last stroke to his cock, his strings of milky white cum spurt from his cock, making his legs feel weak and naking his vision blurry, as his eyes roll to the back of his head.

he nearly falls to his knees but you catch him (and slightly struggling to hold him up). you press a wet kiss against his lips and smiled, “ such good little slut.”

[post-nuclear-sweetheart]

A Scoundrel’s Folly

Patches makes good, or at least tries to, on an old favour.

(2384 words)

-

“Why-“ Patches took a moment to pant out a few breaths, and rub away the blood leaking from his split cheek. “Why’d you do that? You could’ve been killed, you sorry fool.”

“I know,” the hunched over pale man with a peculiar hat covering his face said. “but you looked to have been in a tight spot. The name is Greirat.” He offered his hand to the bald man laid out against a box in the small fort ruins. His hat obscured every facial feature - even the eye holes sloppily cut out of the hat seemed to be blacked out.

Patches reached to shake his hand, but noticed Greirat held out a knitted handkerchief instead. “You can call me Patches.” He held the handkerchief over his cut. “I owe ya.”

That small memory flashed through Patches’ mind when the Ashen One approached him, asking if their little scavenger Greirat had returned.

“Not curled up in the dankest part of the sanctuary, is he?” Patches offered his suggestion on where he could be instead. The Ashen One shook their head, and said that Greirat had gone to Irithyll.

Patches kept a neutral air about him and told the Ashen One to wait another day longer. Internally, Patches had been struck with the stomach-churning flash of extreme worry.

Patches was not one to promise the day to anyone, nor did he promise little acts of kindness, nor did he ever offer anything in return for nothing. Just the same, no one had ever gone out of their way to perform an act of kindness for him, and no one had offered something in return for nothing. All except Greirat. The selfless scavenger had risked his life without a second thought, all to save the arrogant troll who spent his days punishing people he saw fit to receive his wrath. He had chosen the wrong person to invoke his wrath upon, but by some miraculous force, Greirat saw Patches deserving of safety.

Not one to be tied to earthly debts, Patches offered to repay his by way of equal exchange. “You saved my hide, I’ll save yours.” he told him.

But there was one glaring issue with the rescue plan. He was fresh out of armour. “God’s blood,” he muttered in disbelief to himself as he searched through his inventory of goods for any shred of sturdy enough armour. “I must have sold it off.”

The leather armour he currently wore wouldn’t be enough to withstand any blow dealt by the tyrannical Sulyvhan’s guard. It was, however, light enough to outrun Sulyvhan’s pup, as he affectionately referred to it, that guarded the bridge into Irithyll.

“Well,” he continued to speak to himself as he rubbed his chin. “maybe I’ll come across some dead fool’s armour…” He shook his head. No, no that was a terrible idea - relying on luck like that. The memory flashed through his head again, and the realization that Greirat wore nothing more but tattered cloth made Patches grind his teeth with indecision. If the skinny man can wear just scraps and throw his life on the line like that, so can the better built man.

“Alright, you don’t do it now and he dies, then-“ Patches groaned to himself. “-you’ll be stuck taking that debt to your grave.”

He paced back and forth before the mountain of items he had accumulated. “Fuck.” He swore. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, mother- fuck!” His voice raised with each word, until it echoed loud enough to startle the Firekeeper and Hawkwood out of his usual melancholic haze.

It was settled. He would attempt a rescue mission. With the souls he scrounged up, he paid a visit to the Shrine Maiden who had more than a few witty remarks. He ignored her abrasiveness for now and bought a few items he thought would make up for the lack of protection; green blossoms, a birch branch, and other such items.

He said not a single word to anyone. He brushed past the Firekeeper who, although without vision, watched on as the secretive man finally left the shrine.

-

The journey to Irithyll was one he took several times. He knew the ins and outs of the roads and where most hollowed undead hung about. Each time he was faced with the conundrum of taking the bridge and facing the beast, or scaling the perilous, slippery rocks down to the river and freezing.

From his vantage point among the pine trees that sprouted out from the top of the cliffs, Patches crouched low and watched as the alligator maw of the patrolling beast would spark up every now and again with lightning. He couldn’t help but shiver at the thought of going toe-to-toe with that ghastly beast. He had seen the way lightning burns before. It leaves jagged and black flesh in its wake, with skin still hot to the touch. Nothing like the burning of flames.

As arrogant as he was, Patches wasn’t an idiot. He settled for the slippery cliff, instead.

The slick, ice coated steps that lead into the water on the other side of the river would bring him up through the underworld of Irithyll. No doubt Greirat was looting the houses that contained no end of priceless pieces belonging to nobility.

Patches managed to scale down the cliff side without slipping, and slowly entered the water. Despite being undead, he could still feel the cold biting at his flesh and the numb sensation settle in his toes. He clenched his teeth as tight as he possibly could, and began to wade through the thigh deep water along the bank toward the steps across the way.

The sound of splashing water caught Patches’ attention. It was much more erratic and louder than the water he pushed around with his steps.

“What-“

The ground began to rumble, vibrating the water that stretched all across the river. The ear-piercing sound of what sounded like harsh wind blowing through a small slit resounded just behind Patches. He spun as quickly as he could in the semi-frozen water, and behind him the canine-like beast, twice the size of a human with a long snout filled with sharp teeth, stood on its hind legs. It inhaled, and at the back of its throat sparks of blinding light crackled.

Patches dove under the water, the lightning narrowly missing his head and instead hit the water, scattering all along the surface. Sparing no time, Patches kicked and thrashed his arms wildly in an attempt to swim out from the beast’s legs submerged in the water. He broke the surface with a gasp.

His movements weren’t quick enough, and a tooth of the beast caught Patches’ arm, flinging him through the air. A bloody gash was left behind. Patches landed on a chunk of solid ice floating in the water, close to the archway of the city’s undercroft.

The undercroft. That’s it!

The forceful landing knocked the air out of him, but he knew he didn’t have much time to recover. He rolled off the ice and into the water again, his arm stinging terribly. He ran through the water, skipping awkwardly to get above the thigh high sloshing. Just as he entered, the hot breath of the beast blew at the back of his neck. Patches dove for cover in the water as another bolt of lightning shot just above his head. He crawled through the water, digging his fingers into the earth beneath to gain enough traction and quickly get out of harm’s way. He crawled for cover to the right of the archway tunnel, and out of the beast’s sights.

He held the cut on his arm firm and heaved as quietly as he could. He peeked out from the stone archway, just enough to spot the beast sticking its long maw into the tunnel, sniffing around. It stopped suddenly. It couldn’t fit.

Patches nearly fell over into the now knee deep water of the undercroft, and sighed in relief. He remained as still as he could until the beast finally got bored and left. He looked around the undercroft he escaped into. Pillars of stone arched over him, holding up the city above. Bent metal spikes that served as little barricades sat tipped over and some discarded in the water. Who knew what they were for, but near them plants grew. Lastly, he noticed long, thin white skeletal bodies of strange insect-like creatures with long black hair. They laid face down in the water, dead. Someone had been here before.

Patches pushed himself up along the stone wall he sat against and made his way toward what he saw was a set of stairs that lead up to an alcove that hosted a faint, warm light. He limped himself up the stairs, and saw that it wasn’t an alcove at all. It was a kitchen, with a massive fireplace that roared with flames, and sat cross-legged before the flames were two distinct silhouettes; a rotund body with what looked like a mug in hand across from a small, thin body with a strange long hat who also held a mug.

Greirat was the first to hear his footsteps, and turned in surprise. “Oh,” he certainly sounded startled. “hello there.” He saw Patches’ arm and shook his head. “What brings you out here? You’re injured.”

“What what? Someone’s hurt?” Siegward turned his head the best he could in his armour towards the steps to the undercroft. “Well come on in, then!” Siegward rocked his body back and forth a few times before gaining the momentum to roll forward onto his feet. Patches watched on as the round knight plucked a pewter mug off the counter across the room and filled it with a thick, glowing liquid that sat steaming in the cauldron beside it.

“Here you are, old boy. My famous estus soup!” Siegward didn’t allow Patches to refute and shoved the mug, filled to the brim with the hot glowing liquid, into his free hand. “Drink up! That will set you right as rain.”

Patches gave it an experimental sniff. It smelled delectable enough, then gave it a taste. It was the best thing he had ever tasted. Patches greedily downed the mug, and as he drank the pain faded into nothing.

“Say,” Siegward started. Patches hadn’t noticed he stood examining his figure. “don’t I know you from somewhere?”

“You’ve met the terrible Patches before, have you, Siegward?” Greirat teased from his place by the fire.

Siegward mulled Patches’ name over by repeating it, but Patches hurriedly intervened. “Can’t say I’ve come across you, old boy.” He mocked Siegward’s affectionate nickname. He pushed past Siegward, who remained lost in his memory. “Greirat!” Patches called loudly with his arms spread wide as he approached the warm fire. He was finally beginning to dry. “How’ve you been?”

“Better now.” He answered, but tilted his head. “Did that beast rough you up a bit?”

Patches scoffed at the notion. “What, you think Sulyvhan’s dog can get the better of ol’ Patches? Think again, friend.” Meanwhile, Siegward was audibly humming in thought now.

“That gash on your arm proved otherwise.” Greirat pointed out playfully. He held no ounce of malice in his voice.

Patches squatted low before the flames. “‘Tis but a scratch. All healed up now.” He took this moment to divert the conversation. “That Ashen Tart told me you’d been here a while.”

It was made clear to Greirat why Patches had come all this way. Greirat chuckled gleefully beneath the hat he wore over his face. “Oh, oh ho ho, I see.”

Patches furrowed his brow. “What you laughing at?”

“I’m tickled you would come all this way for the life of a lowly thief.”

“I- I did not!” Patches huffed and took a sip from his mug - only to remember he had drank it all. “Lots of goods out here in rich people’s homes.”

“You can lie better than that - I know it.”

Patches growled out, “What of it?”

“Ah!” Siegward snapped his fingers the best he could through his gloves, catching the other two men’s attention. “I remember where I met you, old boy.”

As Siegward approached, the urge to bolt grew in Patches. Instead, he feigned an uneasy grin. “Oh? Where’s that, then?”

“I had been made a fool of by someone with that same bald dome of yours-“

“Now wait just a minute-“

“-and they stole this very armour.” Siegward gestured to his body. “Dear Ashen One found it and tossed it in the well that dastardly con-artist pushed me down.”

Siegward stopped before his old spot by the fire, and took his seat. “Now if my memory serves correct, I believe that scoundrel took the same name. He even had that big nose of yours.”

Silence settled among the three. Patches eyed up the Zewihander strapped to Siegward’s back. He tried to look him in the eye, but the slit in his helmet was too tiny to properly tell what expression the usually jolly man possessed.

“But you came here for your friend, didn’t you?” Siegward finally inquired after several moments of silent tension. “No one can truly be bad if they journey far for their friend’s safety. All is forgiven, so long as you don’t do that again.”

Patches released the breath he didn’t know he held. “This bloke saved you, did he?”

Greirat nodded. “And what a tight spot I was in.” He said. “I was running from that ghastly beast and fled into that low space you came from. I was cornered by those monsters.”

“And I was in here, trying to take a well needed nap.” Siegward declared. “But then I heard all the commotion, and knew those spidered women had someone in their trap.”

“So I was too late. Ah well,” Patches sighed, but put on a playful smile. “suppose I still need to hold up my end of the bargain.” He said to Greirat.

“I think coming here for me is plenty payback. You and your conscious are off the hook - not that you have much of one to begin with.”

Silence settled among them once more as they stared into the fire. This time the air wasn’t hostile, but instead, peaceful.

“So,” Siegward interrupted the peaceful moment. “who wants more soup?”