#sole survivor nsft

[everydayyoulovemeless]

cait nsfw alphabet please

Cait NSFW Alphabet

➼ Word Count » 1.0k ➼ Warnings » Rough Sex, MDNI ➼ Genre » NSFW, Romantic

A - Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

She always feels a little off, like she's unsure what to do or say now that it's happened. She might come off a bit cold but she doesn't mean it negatively. She just needs a bit of time to process it. Now, if you decided you were going to give her a bit of aftercare, she'd fall head over heels in love with you.

B - Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

She can't get enough of your neck and chest. She could spend hours just kissing and biting across your skin. She especially loves running a hand down your front while she makes out with you.

C - Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

She prefers when you warn her beforehand when you're about to cum, but loves cumming on your face and vice versa.

D - Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

She's thought of pegging you but hasn't brought it up in conversation just yet. She wants to wait it out a bit before she asks.

E - Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

All of her experience is from the trauma she's gone through. She knows what to do, but sometimes she'd rather forget why.

F - Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Any position. She doesn't really care which one you do, but her go-to is riding you.

G - Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

She takes it seriously and will expect you to do the same, at least for the first time. It's a big step for her and your relationship and she'd like you to seem like you're taking it as earnestly as she is. She'd get a bit angry if you were just joking around the whole time.

H - Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

It's the apocalypse — is anyone well-groomed?

I - Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Cait isn't a very romantic person, but that doesn't mean she doesn't try. She'll rub her hands along your shoulder in a loving manner, gently edging you on until you finally just grab her. That's as romantic as it gets, though.

J - Jack Off (masturbation headcanon)

She does it a lot more now that the two of you are together. It's still not very often and is always in private, but occasionally she will.

K - Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Rough Sex, Voyeurism, Blindfolds, Sadism, Strap-Ons, Edging, and Riding.

L - Location (favorite places to do the do)

Always in private. She finds it more fun when it's just the two of you with no chances of anyone walking in and interrupting the moment.

M - Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

If you make out with her after mowing down hoards of raiders, she'll immediately start the search for a place to go at it. Cait can't help but want to tear your clothes off after something like that.

N - No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

CNC and having sex in public are both a big no. They make her cringe, but she's open to doing anything else.

O - Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

She prefers to give. She loves the feeling of being above you as she goes down on you. She's almost always in control when performing oral and won't stop till you're begging.

P - Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

If it's not rough, then what's the point? She wants you to hit her with everything you've got — fuck her with all the passion you feel towards her and she'll gladly do the same. The aggression makes her feel at ease and she likes the rush of adrenaline she gets.

Q - Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Cait's neutral on them. She'll give you one whenever you ask, but she always prefers the real thing over it.

R - Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Always. Risks are the fun part about intercourse, why wouldn't she want to take them? Of course, there are boundaries — like no public spaces — but she's game with pretty much everything else.

S - Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

As many as you do. Cait could honestly go for hours, and will if that's where the night takes you both.

T - Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

She personally doesn't own any but would be willing to try if you brought some around. She'd probably even ask to use some on you if you were down.

U - Unfair (how much they like to tease)

A little here and there. She has a habit of grabbing your face and asking if you've 'had enough yet'. She also wouldn't mind if the roles were reversed and you teased her in a similar manner.

V - Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Loud. It's one of the reasons she hates doing it in public.

W - Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

She likes doing body shots off of you. Adding a bit of alcohol into the bedroom always gets her excited.

X - X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Patches of red hair and pretty pink pussy.

Y - Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Cait's sex drive is so ridiculously high, that it can be hard to keep up with her at times. Her trauma matched with her adoration for you make it so she's horny just about anytime she sees you.

Z -Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

She doesn't. She spends the night staring at you — whether you are sleeping or staring back — she can't help it. She is so certain she's in love with you and simply cannot find it within herself to fall asleep when someone as perfect as you is lying right beside her.

[apraxvalith]

Hi I'm Valith and I think normal thoughts about Fallout ghouls

[Full images on Patreon, 18+ only]

[kochi999]

111/MAC

[darligvane]

18+ only — Gage x McCoy 🎉

Hi, yeah I draw nsfw sometimes. (More often than not, honestly.) Gage turned out way better than McCoy did but I’m proud of this one so you get to look at it.

Link to full is in read more 🔻

!! MY TWITTER IS FOR ADULTS ONLY !!

Full is linked here

[gaqalesqua]

Hancock indulges his girl. 

Kinktober 2017 Day Two: knife play,  dirty talk, biting

[ss-bullseye]

Deacon and Bullseye trying for kids

[rakimaiirisa]

Collars and tuffs

[fusionnukacola]

Oh no :( I accidentally deleted an ask when I posted it accidentally. Sorry! Here's the ask and post.

"Anonymous asked:

(Not pictured in the Elder Maxon shoe scenario: Him ignoring it once like a week later and getting to know a staircase on a face to floor basis)

Anyway! I know you said something about writing angst, so...

How about something related to the prompt/phrase "This isn't love" ?

- 💠"

Hello Anon! God, Sole would appear out of nowhere and immediately go "told you so." Maxson tells them that they're on Squire training.

And ugh, angst. Enjoy :) You truly made me hate myself for this one

Deacon knew the relationship he had with Sole wasn't good, but when they'd had stayed up til midnight waking everyone up with their loud arguing, he knew it wasn't right. They barely went to sleep together, quarreled on their different opinions, the fact that Sole was never open with him and Deacon was always lying.

So that's why he's standing in front of their quarters' door, waiting for the right moment to knock.

After a moment, he raised his hand up to the door.

They opened it. Sole's piercing eyes gazed into the sunglasses that Deacon always wore.

"We need to talk." He said.

They nodded. "I guess we do."

Deacon walked into the room, something he had been made rather familiar with over the past months. He looked at the bed that was hard as a rock, remembering all the times they "made up." The anger that went into those nights empty of love. The jealousy and lies.

They still always came back to each other. It was a sick thing, being so obsessed with someone.

"This isn't love." He whispered to their ears. "This isn't love it's dependency." Deacon continued, his voice not audible to anyone outside of that cursed room.

Sole's face was painted with confusion. "What?"

"You're pretending that I'm your husband. I still think of Barbara when we fuck. We argue all day and night." He swallowed. "It's not right."

"So this isn't love." Sole repeated. "Maybe you're right."

[watchyourdigits]

Falloutober Day Three:

Distant Glow

Spooky prompt, but the truly horrifying thing about this is just how long it took me to review.

This takes place on Danse's second ever night in Sanctuary. He and Frankie buried some raiders, but Danse looks way too good with a cigarette between his lips. Frankie finally decides it's high time he pay MacCready a visit. I recommend reading days one and two of this series before this one, but you don't have to.

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: graphic sexual content (w/dubious preparation & top MacCready), canon typical violence, religious trauma, homophobia, alcoholism, drunk driving, mention of suicide

Ship: Danse x male Sole Survivor

"I know you're in there, hotshot," Frankie said impatiently, knocking on the door a little too desperately. "Let me in."

"I'm busy!" came MacCready's muffled reply.

"With what? It's after midni- Oh… That's- Jesus-... C'mon, why the fuck else would I be here?"

He heard MacCready groan, followed by some shuffling around. The door finally opened. MacCready had this look about him like he was both irritated and curious at the same time, the prospect of whatever Frankie had to offer him obviously proving far more enticing than his own hand.

His forehead was damp with exertion and the underwear he'd thrown on left little room to imagine what he'd been up to before his unexpected visitor arrived.

"What the heck is your problem?" MacCready asked as Frankie pushed past him into the room. "It's been months. I thought we weren't doing this anymore."

The room reeked of booze and cigarettes, just like he remembered. He took a deep breath, recalling the many other times he'd visited.

"Yeah, well… Things change."

Frankie liked MacCready well enough as an occasional partner. It was hard to find someone who didn't spend the entire time begging to see his face. MacCready hardly seemed to notice, let alone care. It's not like they were doing this to be intimate anyway, just using one another to scratch a common itch.

"I thought you and the 'Paladin' were off taking care of business?"

On the downside, MacCready sure as hell talked a lot.

"Buryin' the raiders," Frankie corrected poignantly. "We finished."

MacCready raised a suspicious eyebrow, "And?"

"And nothin'. Just thought I'd stop by for old time's sake."

"To take your mind off the Paladin."

Frankie pursed his lips.

"It's not about Danse, alright? It's just… been a while. You know me."

"I do know you. Which is why I know you're using me to distract yourself from-"

Frankie stared at MacCready darkly. He couldn't see it, of course, but he was sure to have felt the change in energy as Frankie approached him slowly.

"Keep yammerin' on like that 'n' I'll leave," he interrupted. "I can take care of myself, same as you."

Frankie noticed MacCready's softening cock twitch in his briefs, betraying his temptation to indulge in the unspoken offer of him staying a while. He groaned at the sight of it.

"Fuck, RJ... You're just as pretty as I remember you bein'... I think about you, ya know."

"Yeah?" MacCready asked, looking Frankie up and down, gaze lingering on the bulge forming in his jeans. "Fine. How do you wanna do this?"

"I was thinkin' maybe you could fuck me for a change," Frankie suggested, not missing a beat.

It was a ballsy move, given that he'd been the one intruding. MacCready gave a noncommittal huff at the suggestion. He went over to his nightstand where he'd left out a bottle of whiskey, taking a sip from it. He made a face of disgust before holding it out to Frankie, who hesitated as his chest grew tight with worry.

He'd sworn off booze when Shaun had been born. Things were a hell of a lot different now, here at the end of the world; a sip to match Mac's couldn't hurt. He took the bottle and knocked his mask up just enough to take a swig.

As he did so, MacCready silently closed the space between them. He snaked his arms around Frankie's neck and leaned up, pressing his lips to his throat. A sweet spot, just below his jaw. Frankie swallowed the alcohol, feeling the familiar comfort of the burn as it went down.

He let slip a low moan as MacCready sucked at the flesh there, using that time to take another large gulp or two of the whiskey. Mac was venturing dangerously close to his jaw, the place where the scarring began.

Frankie felt the heavy warmth of both his own arousal and the booze as they mingled in his stomach. MacCready, already a little buzzed, tested his luck by actually nipping at his jaw. Frankie shivered, straining uncomfortably against his jeans now. He tipped his head down and fit the mask back into place, hiding his exposed flesh from the man hanging off him.

"Quit that."

"Aww, c'mon, I think I'm owed a little fun. Given the intrusion," MacCready said coyly.

"Fair 'nough. So… was that a yes?"

Normally he was more than happy to take the reins, but tonight was different. Tonight, he was feeling a bit emotional after having snapped at Danse for damn near nothing. Apparently he was unable to control his own libido enough to hold it together.

Granted, the sight of him with that cigarette between his lips, the sheen of sweat over taught muscles that captured the moonlight just right… To say it had all been too much was an understatement.

Disinterested and unaware, Danse had no clue what Frankie was talking about when he told him to quit staring. The searing looks he gave were beyond tolerable. It was like he was about to jump him, fuck him senseless then and there, though Frankie knew damn well that would never happen. Ever. It was enough to drive him mad.

Or send him running back to MacCready, who contemplated him for a long while, mulling over the offer.

Finally, he licked his lips, giving Frankie another quick once-over.

"Sure. But next time, we go back to the usual."

"Of course," Frankie reassured quickly, his heart leaping into his throat.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd been properly fucked. He more than trusted MacCready to get the job done, given his equal fondness for women and men.

Can't be that much different, right? Just gotta get it out of my system, then I'll be fine…

For what it was worth, MacCready did try his best to act like a proper top, mostly taking a page from Frankie's own playbook as a guide.

He maneuvered Frankie toward the bed and laid him down gently the way he'd done to MacCready in the past.

Frankie removed his belt and shimmied himself out of his jeans. He tugged his mask off quickly while Mac was distracted, scrounging around for supplies, namely lube and a condom. He took his shirt off and shoved the mask back on, albeit a little crooked, just as MacCready turned around. He didn't seem surprised to see him lying there, naked as a jaybird. He did, however, let his appreciative gaze meander its way down his body. Frankie flexed a little for his benefit, grinning to himself. He was fit and he knew it, toned and thick with muscle from all his work on the farm growing up and subsequent military involvement.

Some dark, indescribable dread that had been forming just out of sight hooked its needle-like claws into his mind as MacCready watched him.

Frankie responded to it by propping himself up on his elbow, polishing off what was left of the whiskey before placing the bottle on the floor beside the bed.

He straightened his mask one last time and then laid himself back down, his cock heavy and leaking at the prospect of attention as it rested against his lower stomach. MacCready took his underwear off and climbed onto the bed, settling between Frankie's thighs.

"Uhh, so how do you wanna…?"

The whiskey had put in a great deal of work dulling Frankie's senses. He'd probably be fine with a few fingers and a good railing.

"No foreplay. I want you behind me, 'nd don't be afraid to manhandle me. I ain't all fragile, unlike you."

MacCready rolled his eyes, reaching down to indulge himself quickly before grabbing hold of Frankie around the middle and helping him get into position.

On his hands and knees, Frankie was all the more desperate, practically dazed with it. He had a perfect view through the window beside the bed.

There was a glow from one of the rooms across the road, where all others were dark. Frankie saw a large figure pass in front of the window and then stop there, just in Frankie's line of sight as he stripped his full-body uniform off.

MacCready held Frankie apart with his free hand as he started carefully running circles around his hole. Soon enough, he plunged a finger inside and got to work, opening him up little by little. Frankie relaxed into the sensation, rocking his hips back against MacCready's palm. He'd needed this more than he'd thought, his cock throbbing painfully.

"H-Hurry it up, hotshot," Frankie whined, growing impatient.

Quit bein' a fuckin' pervert.

The last thing Frankie saw before forcing himself to look away was Danse peeling his shirt off. He'd been too late and the image lingered there, burned into his mind as he let his eyes fall shut.

Danse sparked something in him, a kind of devotion he hadn't felt in a damn long time, the kind one usually reserved for Sunday mass.

A second finger and Frankie moaned loudly, biting his lip hard as he continued fucking himself back onto MacCready's fingers. He could almost imagine it was someone else behind him…

MacCready pulled his fingers out too quickly, probably smirking like a madman as he left Frankie hanging. Frankie opened his mouth to protest, but fell silent when he heard MacCready preparing a condom.

"You ready?"

"Of course I'm fuckin' ready."

He knew he wasn't, not really, but something told him he needed to feel whatever was coming. It was the least he deserved do to atone for the sheer volume of unsavory thoughts he'd been harboring lately.

MacCready teased at his entrance for a moment before slowly working his way in. Frankie gasped at first and then bit down harder on his lower lip, drawing blood as MacCready pushed his way inside.

"Is it supposed to be this tight?" MacCready grunted, trying to adjust.

Frankie stole another glance out the window. Danse was gone, the light turned out for the evening. Frankie put his head down into the pillow, trying his damndest to forget what he'd seen. He didn't answer MacCready, instead pushing his hips back into him just as he'd run out of length to give.

"You okay, Frankie?" MacCready asked nervously.

He was unusually silent, after all, so Frankie gave a quick thumbs up.

"S'long as there's no blood, we're fine. Just… Just fuck me like you mean it," he mumbled breathlessly into the pillow.

"Only if you ask nicely," MacCready said, closer to his ear now.

Frankie let slip another moan.

"Please."

MacCready heaved a content sigh and ran a hand along Frankie's broad back as he pulled himself out about halfway. He bucked forward in an awkward, stuttering motion. It hurt more than expected, causing Frankie to cry out.

"Sonuva-!"

"Shi-shoot, sorry-"

"F-fuck that. Keep goin'."

MacCready managed to settle into a quicker pace after a few more slow thrusts. He fucked him like he was mad at something, just like Frankie had asked him to.

Soon enough, the pain evened out into a dull throbbing and Frankie found himself moaning and keening like a whore as he pushed back in time with MacCready's hips. Frankie reached down to touch his own cock, which had taken on an angry red color.

It didn't take much longer for MacCready to cum, and he did so without warning. Frankie felt the twitch from within as his thrusts became more erratic and then finally stilled. Thankfully, he didn't pull out right away.

An image of Danse's broad hands on his hips, holding him place while he had his way with him…

Danse would probably make the most divine sounds, grunting as he fucked him steadily. Frankie would bet any money he was damn good at it too, thick fingers pressing into his flesh, nails digging in as he emptied himself inside. Leaving bruises behind, kisses like whispered prayers, marking him, claiming him as his own. Worshiping him and everything he was. A false idol, an act of blasphemy in the face unrelenting God.

That gruff voice of his alone could turn even the most evangelical preacher into a sinner.

"You've done so well for me."

A few more frantic pumps of his cock and Frankie cried out for a final time, gasping as he struggled for breath as the white heat of his own orgasm drowned out all rational thoughts about the man with those big, brown cow eyes.

MacCready peppered Frankie's back with kisses as he rode it out, a small comfort. He only pulled himself off Frankie once he'd settled enough, though he still struggled to steady his breathing.

Mac clambered out of the bed, leaving Frankie empty and alone as he searched for a clean towel. Frankie collapsed onto the bed and rolled onto his back, shivering in the absence of the warmth of another's body.

MacCready cleaned him off carefully, making sure not to be too rough around his more sensitive areas.

"Feeling any better?" he asked gently, scooting back onto the bed and staring down at him with nothing but concern.

Dammit, Frankie… Just be honest. You can't keep lyin' like this, pretendin' everything's peachy keen when it ain't.

"Worse, actually. Ain't your fault. I let it get real bad this time. I can't-" Frankie's voice cracked, tears pricking his eyes.

He was choking on his own words, the emotions weighing on him, taking him aback with how strong they were. MacCready, somehow, had seen this coming a mile away and remained unphased.

"Hey, hey, hey. Deep breaths. Just like we practiced. I'm here."

The other good thing about MacCready was that he didn't run away when the tears came. This time was worse than before. Frankie's every nerve burned with it. Everything felt wrong, sinful, just like it used to.

It was like he was seventeen again, drunk and kissing his best friend, Wyatt, for the first time in the dark corner of a house party. They'd left early that night. Together.

Wyatt had borrowed his father's truck and drove them to an abandoned field, somewhere between both of their homes. He'd kissed him so tenderly in the back of that truck. Everything else that happened between them that night had hurt, but Wyatt's kiss had made it all better. The feeling was imprinted on Frankie's lips for all eternity.

Wyatt had died not even a week later, completely and utterly alone after he'd had an argument with his father. He had drunk a little too much after the fight, borrowed father's truck once last time, and wrapped it around a telephone pole.

Frankie knew what they'd argued about, given the dirty looks his family gave him when he showed his face at Wyatt's funeral. He knew it was his fault his best friend was dead. Wyatt's father knew it too, threatening to kill him in cold blood if he so much as saw him at their son's grave.

If Wyatt hadn't kissed Frankie, he might have lived, at least for a little while longer.

The same went for Malcolm, who specially requested that he be transferred into the same regiment as him under the guise that they were cousins by marriage. Mal, the poetic one, who'd read him some fancy novel or another every night before they fell asleep.

Mal, who took his place on the night watch, and lost his life for it. Frankie couldn't have known, but he still blamed himself.

It was hard not to believe God was trying to punish him for loving truly and deeply, evil bastard that he was. If Frankie somehow ended up at the pearly gates, he'd have a choice word or two for that cruel motherfu-

"Frankie…" MacCready said softly, moving his hand to lace their fingers together.

He gripped MacCready's hand like a lifeline.

"The world ended. No one cares anymore."

He knew that, but it all felt like it was just yesterday…

"The end of the world don't mean shit. I'm still goin' to hell, right along with everyone else here."

"I thought you didn't believe in God anymore?"

"I don't. That's what makes it worse… Y-you… Well, you don't just forget."

Frankie had felt an initial, fleeting sense of freedom upon first walking out into the wasteland.

He was swiftly and brutally reminded that the body didn't let go so easily of the kind of pain a man typically took to the grave.

Still, it didn't hurt to try.

"Got any more booze?"

"I think you drank it all."

"Right… I'll get you s'more."

"Don't worry about it. You wanna stay here tonight?"

"If it ain't gonna be a trouble..."

"You, trouble? Never," MacCready teased.

Frankie gave him a half-hearted smack upside the head, contemplating whether he should break the news now that he and Danse had only put the raiders in the hole. It was by Preston's orders that they didn't actually bury them. He'd demanded MacCready bury them as recompense for being late to guard duty earlier that day.

Naw, let him enjoy the bliss of not knowing.

It was temporary anyway, just like everything else.

Temporary, like the distant glow of Danse's bedroom light as he fell asleep alone.

Frankie wondered if there was ever a time when Danse had someone beside him at night. What would someone like that even look like?

Nothin' like a deathclaw's chew toy, that's for damn sure.

[everydayyoulovemeless]

if you’re currently taking requests, may i please request some nsfw headcanons for hancock 👀👀

NSFW Hancock HCs

➼ Word Count » 0.4k ➼ Warnings » Knife Play, Bondage, MDNI ➼ Genre » NSFW, Romantic

Hancock is 100% a switch and is down to do whatever with whoever. My man ain't picky.

He likes to take things a bit slower at the very start of the relationship so that he can get a feel for what the boundaries and feelings are, but he'll quickly begin to speed it up once he's found 'em.

He loves running his knife across your bare skin. There’s something so mesmerizing about watching the sharp tip glide gently over your cheek. It gives him such a power trip and he loves the look of submission glaze over your eyes.

On the flip side, however, he loves it when you wrap your fingers around his throat and throw him onto the nearest surface. He adores it when you grab him and pin him down roughly.

He immediately gets horny whenever you get a good shot at someone. Something about the confidence and the violent nature of it all never fails to get him to grab your hands and pull you tightly against him.

He loves seeing you in his clothes. Something about seeing his coat draped over your shoulders makes him want to leave kisses over your entire body.

Hancock has a thing for blindfolding you and gently tracing his calloused fingers over every scar and blemish you could possibly have. He loves being able to focus all of his attention on these areas, and he especially likes seeing you squirm at the sensation.

His eyes are always filled with an almost obsessively adoring way whenever you're even slightly in control.

Sometimes when your fucking he'll lick your cheek.

Hickies are a must with him. He'll cover you in them, he doesn't care. If you were to ever give some to him, though, he'd be the happiest ghoul in Goodneighbor.

He loves cradling your face in his hands and making out with you, especially after the more dangerous quests.

His favorite position has got to be doggy style. There's something about tying your hands behind your back and pounding into you mercilessly that makes him feel so animalistic.

The one thing he'll never do is include any drugs with sex. He's heard way too many stories of people getting hurt because of mishaps like that and always makes sure you're both sober before initiating anything.

Aftercare with him doesn't entail very much. He prefers just laying there with you in his arms as you two share a blunt and talk. He always looks forward to the vulnerability of this moment and couldn't ever ask for anything more.

[apraxvalith]

Finished sketchpage commission: Nora/Hancock, six poses, lots of radioactive cum, and TF kink/ghoulification

(Nora might have let her horny brain win out over common sense, but it's a happy ending, so no harm no foul 🤭)

Full uncensored image on Patreon, Twitter, and Bluesky [NSFW/18+ Only!]

[thegayestcat]

When you dream about getting cuddles 😭 I'm not touch starved you are

[vinciwolf]

Loyalty - Epilogue

(Recom)Na’vi!Miles Quaritch x (fem)Na’vi!Reader

Warnings: SLOW BURN, EVENTUAL NSFT, ENEMIES TO LOVERS, capture, romance, reader is female

Warnings for this chapter: epilogue, SMUT, fluff, gore, blood.

Notes: Sorry that this took forever. My car’s transmission stopped working and have had to put a lot of things on hold due to this. Shoutout to everyone for sticking with it despite some delays! Na’vi spoken is in [italics and brackets]; inner thoughts are in italics.

Tags: @deliwrites​ @ikranwings​ @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed​ @avatar-lover​ @justasimps-blog​ @mechformers​ @perseny​ @dakotali​ @whereireid​ @whxre-bxby​ @miscellaneousfantasies​ @myh3artttt​ @ducks118​ @janelongxox​ 

Sand treaded softly through your toes, heating the soles of your feet as the sun baked the seaside.

Miles’ sweaty hand held yours firmly as you walked beside him. You would disappear to lick your wounds and retreat from any lingering scouts the RDA would send looking for you or any remaining Recoms still alive. Your body ached hobbling along, but your heart ached worse with each step you took away from your family. You wanted to turn back, but when Miles had kissed you and held you in his arms in front of Jake after saving you, you knew you couldn’t stay. You were a traitor – clear as day mated with the enemy by the way he touched you. Now all you could do was get away from the sunken SeaDragon, long dragged under by the water, to hopefully figure something out.

Spider was safe, again causing your heart to lurch as you had to leave him behind for his sake. You and Miles didn’t want to drag him into more hellfire than what he had already been through.

Despite the throbbing in your limbs, head, and heart, you marched on, hand not letting go of the Recom at your side.

Your eye was still swollen from the aftermath of your scuffle with Ardmore, making it hard to see. Being stopped, the Colonel pulled his blade into his hand before cupping your face, getting your permission with a subtle look that you blinked slowly in consent. The sharp tip peeled your skin open slowly allowing the swollen blood to ease from your brow. Having vision in both your eyes felt good, only leaving behind a tiny gash.

Then you heard the flap of wings overhead. Part of you thought it was Cupcake until you noticed the rider as the Ikran landed. Lyle hopped from his mount. You saw how his forehead lined with remorse, hours old blood covering his skin, making him look drained and confused. His eyes looked to you before dodging quickly and finding the Colonel instead. Miles stepped up and grasped his friend’s forearm tightly as they shook hands. There was a relief in your mate’s shoulders. He was happy to see a survivor of all things after you explained to him what the General did to Prager and the rest.

Lyle opened his mouth to speak, “I…”

But you stopped him, shaking your head, “It’s ok.”

That was when you could see a defeated weight beginning to pull behind his stare.

“I can’t believe they’re all gone.”

Your eyes relaxed sadly at the devastation on the Corporal’s face.

“Just cogs in a machine…Ardmore didn’t care,” you said.

The three of you stood for a brief period of silence, the revelation of having nowhere to return to, no purpose going forward, settled in uncomfortably. There was no plan, only forward into the unknown.

“Let’s go,” Miles spoke.

“Where?” Lyle asked right when Cupcake swopped down onto the beach.

“We need to find a place to rest for now—” The Colonel reached for his mount “—and I need to tend to your wounds—” he tipped his head at you coming up behind him.

“Rest would be nice. I’m pretty sure I fractured a rib,” you groaned, lifting yourself to sit on his Ikran with him in front.

~

The fire crackling in the center of a shallow cave flickered with long shadows of the three bodies huddled down for the night, waves crashing in the distance. Ardmore beat the crap out of you once she got the upper hand, but the evidence of your fierce battle littered itself over your arms and legs, showing just how hard you fought until the end. You hissed as Miles dabbed your bruised and split knuckles with ointment, making you almost regret throwing fists with a Skel Suit…almost.

A twig snapped and had all three your heads turning to the sound, only to grasp the seriousness of the situation when you took in the sight of a small group of tattooed Metkayina, spears pointed in your direction. One was tall and elaborately decorated on the face, stalking forward cautiously examining the exhausted state of your tiny three-man army, one of which – you – were badly injured, purpled with bruises.

Then your eyes brightened when you saw Jake step forward.

Everything moved fast after that. You were given a small hut at the far end corner of the village, but you had no home, or at least that’s what your heart told you when every pair of eyes that looked your way had you shrinking, telling you to ‘go away’ – ‘you’re not welcome here.’

After discussing it with your mate and Lyle, you would stay in the village only for a few days to heal, the Tsahik reluctantly looking at your wounds. She invited herself into your temporary arrangement long enough to tend to what was important then left without speaking a single word.

What made you feel even worse was that Jake hadn’t spoken to you, assuming it was because of Miles. The brim of your eyes would burn when you allowed irrational thoughts to get the best of you, making you think that you had been outcasted by your friend because you had mated with his ‘enemy’ – or at least his version of what Miles used to be even though he wasn’t that man anymore.

You felt like a stranger, barely remembering your old life, trying desperately to construct a new one.

But then there was a shift.

Lo’ak poked around to see how you were.

Then one early morning while you were passing through the village, eyes at your feet hurriedly moving to get back to your tent as to not draw attention, you were pulled by the elbow by Neytiri into her lodgings.

“Sit,” she said.

“Why?” You were surprised.

“I will braid your hair.” Her hands pushed your shoulders down so you could sit in front of her.

“Your hair will get matted if I don’t do something because clearly you are not taking care of yourself.”

You gulped and remained still while your hair was brushed and peeled into strands. Then your body relaxed from her touch, followed by Tuk and Kiri taking a seat and starting their own strands.

Neytiri’s demeanor was firm, yet you could see how she yearned for your company. Tuk braided your hair into a beautiful weave, decorating the bottom with shells and other ocean jewelry.

You felt something blossom inside, throat bobbing as you swallowed a burning lump. How long had it been since you had to undo your braids in that godawful place Bridgehead, throwing away the beads while your heart cried for home.

A tear fell from your eye you didn’t bother blinking away. Then you were surrounded by Neytiri embracing your from behind with her arms tightly folding over your front, Tuk pulling herself into the hug while Kiri hummed a soft tune while she finished out her strand. You didn’t deserve this, torn mind slowly letting go of your fears as you wept. They hated you, didn’t they?

Here, in this secluded hut, this moment proved you wrong – so sweetly wrong.

Despite being hesitant towards your mate, your family wanted you home, even if that meant living with the Recoms. It wouldn’t come to your knowledge until later when you and Miles were going to leave for good that Jake had advocated to Tonowari for your permanent stay.

Maybe it was yearning for the old times, the peaceful times, or maybe it was the Tulkun Way, but there was an awkward period adjusting to everything new. Neytiri didn’t want to lose you again, and the Sully kids wanted their friend back, Tuk most of all.

Miles pulled his weight as did Lyle. They wanted to prove they could be useful.

Over time, the anxiety around the Recoms started to fade, allowing for trust to build in its place.

You even managed to tame a Skinwing after weeks of training yourself on how to ‘breathe’ underwater.

~

You sat near the fire beside Miles teaching him more words in Na’vi. Spider was off fishing, stick in hand poking at the sea life in the huge tidepools, with Neteyam and Lo’ak and two other Metkayina teenagers. Everything seemed to be falling into place, allowing your mind to be at ease for the very first time since what happened at the Old Shack. Norm and Max even homed an old avatar link by the village just for the kid.

Then that calm was unexpectedly interrupted by Lyle beaming himself in front of you and his boss, wearing nothing but a loin cloth that scarcely covered his junk. The knife that strapped over his chest glinted in the sun as his chest puffed up proudly.

“I’m really digging this new look!”

“Oh, my fucking GOD!” you groaned.

It was amusing watching the Corporal embrace the way of the People, even if that meant the image of his bare ass, shielded only by a string of fabric, would be engrained into your memory forever.

~

The flap to your tent remained closed, an understood hint to your friends and family only meaning one thing: Do Not Disturb.

Your hand rested on Miles’ bare chest, ear flat against the beating sound of his heart. The morning was young and the distant music of laughter from the village children sung a few yards away in another lodging.

The calloused hand at your back brushed up and down your spine in a rhythmic pattern while Miles nudged his nose into your hair. Everything was good.

Then you pushed yourself up to level your face with the Recom before leaning in for a kiss…that turned into two, then three, then his hot tongue was wrapping around yours with a growl reverberating into your mouth. You pulled away and straddled your mate, his large hands cupping the soft roundness of your rear. Your tail flicked behind you.

Miles’ eyes blew out when he studied your naked form on top of him, the way your breasts hung with a delicate weight, nipples ripe and hard for the taking. Your body screamed seduction in the way you knowingly slinked your hips inching closer to the tip of his cock.

Your mouth fell open in elation when the whole shaft slid into your folds, giving you a perfect stretch. The first roll of your hips had the Recom hissing and craning his neck. Then you were riding steadily along the length, leaning yourself to direct the head to hit just the right angle at the spongy spot that sent chills through your spine.

Miles’ fingers indented your thighs as he helped you bounce harder onto him, his lower half bucking into your thrusts making you whine from the added force. His hand then found your braid and laid it over your shoulder, grabbing his and connecting the tendrils. The feeling of you nearly had him releasing too soon, restraining himself with a loud moan feeling you squeeze around his shaft from binding queues together.

Fingers digging into the Recom’s chest, your cries echoed off the tent walls as your high was quickly approaching. The hands at your thighs held firmer in edging out every second of pleasure before the final drop. Miles was panting and grunting to every sweeping pass of your walls over his length. Both your bodies radiated together in this moment.

Then a heavy splash of cum painted your walls, your voice a pitched whimper.

You dropped yourself onto your mate as you huffed trying to gather yourself. Miles braced a hand at the backside of your head while he did the same, chest heaving as it rose and fell with big, quick breaths.

You wanted to stay here forever.

Being safely away from the pollution of Bridgehead, a danger that still lurked in the back of your mind, allowed you to embrace this new life without fear. With Miles, you didn’t have sleepless nights anymore, or painful bursts of withdrawal symptoms. In fact, you hadn’t craved those pills in a long time… and didn’t plan on returning to that old life.

The time would come to have to fight again. You couldn’t protect what you loved by running. No, you would make a stand with your family when the evil beyond the horizon eventually retaliated. But for now, that worry was pushed aside as you kissed Miles in the sanctuary of your hut, focusing on what was in front of you, what was ahead, for the first time in years.

This was a life rebirthed…restored.

And you dared the RDA to take it from you.

[gaqalesqua]

Gage provides Nora with relief from the weather.  

Kinktober Day Five: Temperature play

[ss-bullseye]

Deacon and SS Bullseye ft. bad Dr. Carrington roleplay :-)

[queendeeshorrorimagines]

Hey, saw your posts while scrolling through the Ji-Woon tag and saw that your requests were open!

What about Ji-Woon and Dylan from The Quarry (if you've played/watched it)? Or, teen Nick Goode (from Fear Street, again if you've seen it)?

If not, Jake and Yoichi? All coming up close with the Trickster, I don't mind NSFW personally 👀

Jake Park x Trickster nsfw headcanons

I'm so sorry for the late response, I haven't seen fear street yet or played The Quarry. I hope that you don't mind that dear. I know you said that you only wanted Jake. I hope you enjoy it.

Warnings: nsft themes, mxm smut mentions, I'm sorry if I'm not the best at writing ships.

Jake Park x Ji Woon Hak

Being from the same country as Ji woon, Jake has known a bit of his work from some of the people around him but isn't a fan of kpop in general.

Jake always thought that the kpop star was attractive even though Jake doesn't like the smugness of Ji woon and how the androgynous star has an ego issue.

Ji woon hak on the other hand thought that Jake was interesting because of Jake not swooning over his cocky behavior or even paying much attention to him.

Ji woon and Jake are either bisexual or pansexual.

He especially loves it when he sees Jake wear more bold and colorful clothing rather than his usual wear.

It started with Ji woon cursing in Korean when Jake stunned him with a pallet and Jake responded with "take that" in Korean before escaping the chase.

The start of their relationship would be more competitive, with Jake constantly stunning and irritate the kpop star while Ji would solely focus his attention to Jake, having his fair share of moring jake.

You can bet that Korean cursing could be heard throughout the trials, occasionally making Yun Jin chuckle at the looks of confusion all over the non Korean speaking survivors.

All of the chase and tension between the two men ended up changing from "I hate hate you" towards "I want to hate fuck you."

It's an open secret that there's been cases where survivors and killers had sex. Jake and Ji weren't any different.

Hell, there's times where Ji would let Jake get hatch after they had sex as a "I'm going to pretend to not see that hatch and give you five seconds to scram or ill close it."

Sex between them usually is the two of them fighting for dominance over the other.

Especially during makout sessions.

Ji woon wouldn't admit it but he gets super turned on when Jake pins him against the wall or other ways Jake shows how strong he truly is.

Jake is more of a quiet dom, giving more quiet demands and taunts. He also is known to make the occasional growls and grunts when he's fucking Ji.

When Ji is dom, his dirty talk and taunts gets Jake going more that Ji would ever know.

Ji likes to cum on Jake's face or in him (it doesnt matter if its oral or anal). It fuels this man's already inflated ego more.

Jake on the other hand likes to cum on Ji. It doesn't matter if it's on Ji's clothes or his face and body.

If Jake cums on Ji's clothes, he feels rather smug, knowing that Ji would have to be extra sneaky about avoiding other killers after the trials with Jake.

Jake and Ji would never fully admit that they have feelings for each other. They're on opposing sides in the Entity's realm.