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#until he can’t even function anymore
skyloftian-nutcase · 1 year
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Question of the hour: Which member of the Chain is emotionally intelligent enough to know why Sky had a complete meltdown in my story, Numb, because otherwise they’re all gonna be like “that was weird” and Sky’s gonna be like “yeah can we never talk about this again” and the consensus will be halfway agreeing and then watching Sky out of the corner of their eyes because what the hell even was that
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luveline · 5 months
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hellooo I have a request for Spencer x bombshell! reader (I'm not sure if you've done this before and if you have I apologise!!) but like they're on a case and one of them gets pretty badly hurt somehow & then the other is really worried about them & stuff and then I'm not sure (I think this could be good but not the way that I have spoken about it and so I'm very very sorry!!)
u r so awesome don’t worry!!
cw canon typical violence and injury
Everything is crisp and quiet at the precipice of the stakeout. You adjust your gun where it’s poised over the roof of an SUV away from a moving officer’s body. The negotiator adjusts the megaphone at their thigh nervously, waiting for Hotch’s go ahead. You’re all waiting for it. A hand raised, sending you in, hostage recovered, a long case coming to a short close. 
“Don’t forget your leg,” Spencer says to you under his breath. 
“Trust me, babe, I can’t forget it,” you say back, glancing quickly at him to your left. He’s facing forward, trained on the window where you’d last seen the unsub. The distance between you both and the danger is small, less than three feet of space. You and Spencer don’t have a clear shot, the agent’s behind you better equipped and better trained, but you can make do in a pinch. 
“Hurting?” he whispers. 
“Half as bad as it was yesterday.” 
“I have a bad feeling.” 
“Yeah?” You follow Hotch’s hand. The negotiation begins. You and Spencer don’t talk again. 
The unsub is sour, the victim terrified. When the screaming inside begins in earnest, the FBI rolls inside, confident in taking down the unsub, if a little worried about the victims wellbeing. You and Spencer sweep in less than ten inches away from each other, unafraid, and you don’t see the sledgehammer until it’s hitting you in the jaw, spraying blood like dark ink over Spencer’s pale cheek. 
“I don’t care if that’s what you recommend.” A drag of a soft touch somewhere on your skin. “Sincerely. I want a second opinion.” 
“It’s a mandibular fracture, we have a suitable follow up procedure.” 
“I understand, but I’m doing what she’d want me to do. When she wakes up, she’ll say the same thing, and so there’s no point in starting the paperwork for a procedure she won’t agree to.” 
“I doubt her cosmetic preferences will outweigh functionality.” 
It’s Spencer’s voice, Spencer’s hand on your leg. He’s reaching back to hold you as he defends you. “Respectfully, you don’t know her. I don’t want to talk about it anymore. She needs peace and quiet.” 
The doctor harrumphs but leaves. Quiet is restored, and for a while you doze, the only thing at your attention Spencer’s hand where it climbs. He takes your hand. You know his fingers well where they twine between yours. 
A few hours pass by in sluggish slee, the bed elevated to an uncomfortable sitting position. 
“Hey?” he asks, fingertips to the hill of your shoulder. “Are you waking up?” 
You can’t make your mouth form words. Your eyes flash open in shock.
“Hey, don’t panic. I’m sorry, I’m going to explain, but please don’t panic.” 
You wait. 
Spencer stands in a rumpled shirt, hair in his eyes, glasses slipping down his nose. “Your jaw is broken, fractured, actually, pretty badly. You’ve had so much pain relief over the last few hours I’m surprised you can even open your eyes, and it’s good you’re struggling to move your mouth because it would only hurt anyways.” He claps your arm gently. “I’m sorry. I’m not going anywhere though, okay? I’m right here.” 
That’s not what scares you; you know Spencer’s gonna stay. It’s not a question. 
Your hand strays up to your face. 
“It’s not bad,” he swears, and perhaps lies. 
“Spence,” you manage, a croak that aches and lisps at once. 
“It’s okay,” he says, leaning down. “Please don’t get upset.” 
You blink tearfully. You don’t remember what happened, just the flash of pain and now Spencer looking down at you like you’re wounded. He sits carefully on the side of your bed and grabs you by the waist, two hands on your sides and arms resting on your stomach, like a hug that hasn’t crept forward. 
“You won’t like the bruise,” he says apologetically. 
“Bad?” you whisper. 
“It’s all the way up to your eye. He also chipped two of your teeth… I’m so sorry, angel. It was my fault.” He thumbs your ribs. “I’ll fix everything. I already talked to your dentist, and tonight they’re coming back to talk about your plastics because the blow split your skin, okay? But you're mostly fixed already.” 
“‘M I… still pretty?” you ask. 
“Still the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,” he says, not half as shyly as he’d usually would. 
You cry panicked, dribbly tears. He rubs shapes into your sides and swears again that it’ll all be okay, and it’s not that you don’t believe him, it’s just that it’s really starting to hurt. 
“Had a bad feeling,” he says, wiping your tears as gently as he can before they can wet the bandaging on your jaw.
“Did you get him for me?” you ask. 
Morgan clears his throat from the doorway to announce his arrival, a coffee cup in hand, pastry bag hanging between his pinky and marriage finger. He sounds like he’s about to laugh, “Did you, lover boy?” He beams at you. “I’ve never seen him pistol whip someone before. You would’ve loved it.”
You groan in agony. Missing out on seeing that is almost as bad as breaking your jaw. 
“I’ll recreate it for you,” Spencer promises. 
“And now it’s time for him to eat,” Morgan says, putting the pastry bag on the bed, “and get some sleep. He hasn’t slept in the two days you’ve been in here.”
“I had important stuff to take care of,” he says, rubbing your side. “While you couldn’t do it yourself.”
“Sleep,” you insist through your achy mouth.
Spencer’s eyes go soft and sad. “I will.”
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Between Dreams and Sugar
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Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader
Synopsis: Your screams will haunt his dreams until the day he dies.
Word Count: 5.1k
Warnings: Torture, gore, angst, violence & death, suggestive joke, fluff, happy ending, rescue fic but who rescues who...>:)
A/N: Guys, I have a confession - I don't think I can write Ghost properly lmfao. This is horrifically mid.
*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*
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There was so much blood coating your body that you had forgotten where the wounds were and weren’t. It flowed from you like viscus water—a homogeneous mixture of congealed shades of red like rubies except for the simple fact that this was not beautiful; it was not desired or sought after. 
 On the ground, soaking in indistinguishable pools of crimson, ripples are sent out when your limp foot twitches mutely in its clutch. That was all you could do now. Twitch. Writhe. They didn’t even bother tying you to the chair anymore—just let you slouch half out of it like a school kid who had gotten too drunk the night before. 
Hell, you wished you were drunk. 
“Sergeant.” 
You wished you could feel your fingers. You wished you could move your neck up from its bend position as if it was a wilting flower; hair stuck to your skin. Blood dribbles out of your mouth. Drip…drop…drip…drop. 
You’d bitten your tongue open in a vain attempt to stop yourself from screaming, hadn’t you? You…you can’t quite remember.
“Sergeant!” Groaning long and low, the violent chills that wrack your form only serve to make yourself bleed out faster, tension forcing precious life fluid out from burst veins and slashed ankles. 
Cuts far span your legs and shoulders. Your back is nothing more than a painting of burns coated with sweat and infection; puss sticking you to the backrest of the chair like yellow-colored adhesive. Your clothes are the opposite idea of modesty. Tattered, torn by blades to create harm. Fuck, could you even breathe properly anymore?
Lungs only create a wheeze—you’re not getting enough oxygen to function. 
A dark growl bounces off the walls.
Ghost struggles against his binds, uniform also in a state of disarray with very obviously broken ribs and bruised chest. Splotches of yellow-white mounds signal blunt trauma over the pale skin that’s already laced with old scars. 
They’d all but anchored him to his chair—and even then the red marks that blister are a signal of the brutality of the large man as he peels back his skin to try and struggle himself out. 
You whine, the loftiness stuck in your brain addictive; to pull back that curtain was as much of a struggle as staying awake. That harsh Manchester accent was something to draw closer to, though, professionalism a key to the lock on your failing consciousness. The reminder of companionship.
“G…” Your vocal cords fizzle, “Ghost…” 
“Open your eyes.” Every word was enunciated, deep and guttural.
Parting your lips, more blood drowns your lap in thick globs, and soon your battered throat vibrates with coughs that make you see stars, mild panic the moment you realize that you can’t breathe. 
Jerking forward, you gasp, eyes snapping open as your neck bends ahead in desperation. Mucus and other bodily fluids spray over your lap, tinged scarlet, but the blockage in your throat is dispelled as your broken ribs quiver in agony. 
Whimpering like a kicked dog, you wonder how long it’ll take for Ghost to realize getting you to focus on him was pointless. If this all continued, you’d be dead within the day. 
But you entertain him.
Head slowly balking back as your jaw hangs loose, you rest it on the wooden frame behind you as softly as you’re able with a most likely concussed brain and a fractured skull. Only one eye opens, and even then it’s half-glued to your cheek with dried blood. 
Ghost’s balaclava had been ripped off. It felt wrong to see him in the open like this. Exposed. It was quite obvious he disliked it just as much as you did. 
Blue eyes blazed at you; blonde hair going this way and that as crimson fell down the swell of his Adam’s Apple from a very broken nose. That gaze was unrelenting, and even with your blurry vision, you knew it would be unwise to look away. 
His stubbled jaw sets as a heart can be seen skipping beats in his breast. You were totally out of it, enough so that you missed the way his lungs slightly released when you had pulled yourself back to the present. 
The gulping sigh.
“That’s it, Sergeant.” You cough once more, wet and haggard, and your head falls back to your chest before you have to force it back up on shaking muscles. It was getting harder. “Easy does it, then…Thought I lost you.”
“C–can’t,” the useless feet flicker over the ground, sloshing through fluid in unstable jumps as you slur out, “Hurts, Ghost.”  
A slow and dark inhalation meets your ears before a sudden grunt of a struggling body; jerking arms as the chair squeals with old nails being torn out. 
“I know, Birdie, I know.” His tone is lesser now as he bites back a curse as the blisters on his arms pop, the rope burns turning a vile color as his muscles strain, “But you keep those pretty little eyes on me, yeah?” 
It wasn’t supposed to go like this. 
Black Operations were dangerous, yeah, but never had the Lieutenant been so down in the gutter as he was right now. Mainly because of you, no, entirely because of you. He could withstand months of torture—mental and physical—with no problem. He’d done it countless times before. 
But never had he been forced to watch someone hurt you instead of him.
They would come in every day, these pitiful excuses for German drug runners, and would make him watch as they ripped open your skin with blunt knives and other tools coated in rust. Questions would be asked—questions that Ghost knew he could not answer even if it was you who would get punished. 
Every time you would flinch when the door to this concrete basement opened, it was harder to keep his tongue from wagging. He was watching you die; letting it happen. 
Fuck, it made him sick.
Ghost violently reems a shoulder up and down, not caring about the long stripes of now oozing blood on his forearms or the pain that the action brings bone-deep. There was so much scarlet flowing from you. Too much.
What he knows for certain is that he can’t let you die here. He’d never forgive himself for that.
How is she still conscious? The question was utterly genuine as Ghost’s dead eyes narrowed dangerously, sparking with urgency at the uneven risings and fallings from your chest. 
“Fucking hell,” the Lieutenant growls, each word punctuated by a desperate attempt to free himself. He had to get you out of this. You were his responsibility; his team. 
His…Ghost pants, sweat dripping down his arms.
You didn’t abandon him, how could he do the same to you? When questioned you hadn't given up his true name, hadn’t blabbered to save your own skin so you could avoid a horrible amount of pain. Pain that Ghost knew well. 
Pain that was never supposed to be known to you.
Your screams would haunt his nightmares until the day he died. 
“Ghost,” blue eyes freeze, snapping away from the sight of the bone around his wrists becoming visible through a thin coverage of remaining flesh. He pauses like a guard dog. Your optic was glinting, flicking with failing consciousness. The movement of your chest sputtered as the man clenched his teeth together. “You’re hurtin’ yourself.” 
“‘Bout to do even more damage, yeah?” he gets back to it, working enough blood into the rope to make it slick; dripping. “If it’ll get me out of these bastard things.” 
The weak smirk on your face gives his brows a deep furrow, sweat glistening on his forehead.
A part of him hated you. Hated you for the way you had this effect on him. He shouldn’t care if you lived or died—that wasn’t his cross to carry. 
But you’d made him soft these last few months. Soft, and weak, and disgustingly concerned for your safety. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t Ghost. 
“Gonna b…bleed out, y’know.” Your tongue slips, mind so loose that anything that comes to the front slips out like water from a slip-and-slide. Fingers twitching, your limp body grows so cold that you shiver. 
“Negative.” Ghost barks, slipping one hand partially under the restraint and his flesh, acting as a zipper, starts to go with it. He hisses under his breath, body hot and spilling. Mutilating himself. “Shut your damn gob.” Blood splatters to the floor, “I’m gettin’ us out of ‘ere.”
“Tell me a joke.” Blue eyes flicker, blonde lashes slipping over pale cheeks. 
You feel another wave of pain shutter through you—one that makes you whimper as quietly as a soft breeze on a summer day. 
“Joke?” Ghost hisses, glaring over at you without heat. “The fuck are you on about?” A wobbling eyebrow raise is all he gets. 
He grunts feral-like, evocative of a bear that hadn’t gotten his supper. Your lid droops and panic spikes.
“How long can a fish breakdance for?” Ghost slips a hand free, snarling in the back of his mouth as the entirety of his left hand is left ripped open, the fissures itchy and welling. Wasting no time, the limb goes to assist the other, pulling with ripped-off fingernails at the tight knot. A side-eye is sent your way.
Only you weren't moving. Lips snap in a moment of obvious concern, not only by the tone but by the way the man jerks forward in the chair—no matter if one arm and both of his legs were still restrained.
“Love!” The door handle rattles with screeching chains, but Ghost is occupied with raging at you. Ordering you to stay awake with terrifying eyes. It was as though for the first time in a long time there was true fear in his throat. True hatred. 
Chucking voices heat veins that he had long since thought were cold, and the Lieutenant composes himself with a sharp pause. He leans back slowly into the chair; jaw so tight his molars almost crack in the back of his mouth like candy. Your face is tilted downward, and Ghost memorizes the make of it, trails his gaze slowly over every slash and cut that mars you. Feet slap off the concrete as multiple people enter the room, but it was like a switch had flipped internally, walls going up.
The mask was still there, even if all that physically remained of it was the black paint in his sockets.
He’d return every mark, from a bruise to an open wound, tenfold. But you needed to wake up first. You…you needed to.
You had to be okay.
Three men encircle the two of you, faces hidden and obviously enjoying a bit of their own product.
“Look at this, Lutz, the man got a hand out of the binding.” Blue eyes travel to stare dead-on into a pair of blown pupils; mind gone. 
The second man goes to grip your hair, forcing your head up in inspection. Ghost’s vision immediately travels over, biceps going tense like a dog with its hackles raised and vision going red. 
“Don’t worry about that. It’s one hand, what can the Bastard do?”
“Oh,” another laughs, though his body is wound tight, “careful with the woman, Alric—the beast looks like he’s about to snap at you.”  
The three share sly looks. Alric, the one with your hair in his grip, shakes your head back and forth, blood flying around in the air as your limp body jerks. Ghost lunges, but he only makes it as far as the chair allows him before he’s shoved back by a hand on his chest. 
Moving quicker than an animal, bone snaps, and an agony-laced scream echoes off the walls not a millisecond later. 
Ghost had gripped that hand and twisted, making the wrist joint completely flip on itself. Blank blue eyes watch with glints of sadistic glee as the man wails, grabbing onto himself and falling back onto his ass.
The one holding you instantly releases your hair and rushes to his friend. 
“Holy fuck!” Everyone divulges into frantic German curses, Ghost making out a command to leave and go see a doctor.
“Cheers. Good luck with that, ya’ Bastard.” Grumbling under his breath, the Lieutenant realized he was probably enjoying this more than he should, but always his attention shifts back to you. How you hang limb, battered face covered by your hair, and loss of blood steadily leaving your hands curling into the palms—
Ghost’s eyes widen slightly as the two still try and calm down their companion. Your hand. It wasn’t curled because of onset rigor mortis. You were holding a blade. 
The Brit’s large chest swells with pride; jaw going somewhat slackened as he stares at you. So you were faking it….Fucking hell, Sweetheart. 
Slowly, his vision peels to the empty sheath on Lutz’s belt. It wasn’t a big knife—nothing more than a three-inch blade on the end. But you were still conscious enough to hear these goons show up before he had; had used sleight of hand that anyone else in your situation would have just given up on. 
It was hard to hold back a low chuckle, but he managed. Fuck, you were something else.
The two unmaimed men shove the third out the door, shouting down the hallway as his sobs and sniffling nose reverberate even as he’s out of sight. 
Grunting, the Brit shifts his hips, lips pulling in a snarl at the bouncing electrical wire that goes up his ribs. Many were broken; along with his nose and a dislocated shoulder, but he knows he can deal with it. Getting you out and to the Evac point was his top priority—his wounds weren’t over-the-top life-threatening unless they went too long without treatment. 
You on the other hand. 
Lids narrow on the way the knife-holding hand shakes with exertion when simply applying pressure. If this was going to happen, it had to happen now.
“That was a nice little show,” Alric growls, standing in the middle of the two in the chairs and keeping a considerable distance farther from Ghost than you. Blue eyes blink blankly, emotions swiftly wiped away. “One-handed? I’m impressed.” 
Ghost raises a single blonde eyebrow, “More where that came from.” 
Alric smiles.
“Emil—get the gun.” Legs slowly tense, but other than that there’s no outward display of nervousness. 
Seconds later a barrel is level with Ghost’s forehead, the chilled metal pressing deep into his blood-coated skin. He doesn’t balk back, he doesn’t even flinch, just watches with a dim flicker in his optics that remains even after he blinks. Like a cat’s slitted pupils. 
It would be no use shoving the gun out of this man’s hands—he would fire before the Lieutenant was able to steal the weapon for himself. 
“I’m getting sick of this game, Soldier. We’ve been through this day after day.” Alric swipes at his nose, white powder stuck under his nostrils. Ghost can’t stop the small tick of his mouth. “Tell me who you are,” the gun swivels, and the Brit’s heart seizes up. It points at your abdomen. “Or the girl gets a nice new stomach.” 
Lips thin into a small line as hidden fury swells. 
“Alric…” Emil seems nervous, his feet shifting and hands twitching. The aura Ghost was emitting was like a dark cloud around the room; sheer size and indistinguishable emotions rose to drown out all else when a threat to the beast’s bird was brought into the picture. There had been multiple times throughout the days when the men had been scared to touch you at all for fear of the look that had been leveled their way. Those eyes…fuck it was like a demon was stuck in flesh. In blue so close to gray the color was more like the concrete of a prison cell. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 
“Tell me.” Alric growls as Emil gets closer to you. Ghost stays silent, unblinking as his fingers curl into fists. His knuckles crack from the force. “Tell me!”
Emil bushes your shoulder and you lunge. Bringing the blade into his chest, your form brings the both of you to the floor in a splash of scarlet and twin screams of pain. 
The Blonde’s heart seizes at the sound in an aggressive bounce.
Alric whips around, eyes widened and gun loose in his grip. Ghost wastes no time, trusting your judgment, and shoves himself forward. A shot goes off as the Lieutenant rams his shoulder into the man, but the bullet bites into the far wall instead of your back as you dig your knife into Emil’s throat; wrestling for life. 
The chair still attached to Ghost was a problem, but his body weight was used to his advantage. Sinew bunched as a growl exits his lips, Alric and him slamming to the floor in a flurry of rabid intentions and the likeness of wolves caught in a trap. Ghost’s eyesight goes red, remembering every cut and beating you went through for him in the reflection of Alric’s eyes. That pathetic drug runner had made you bleed. 
His bird doesn’t bleed.
Teeth and nails are tools kept for animals, and now that the gun was too far from grip and you were limp beside the gargling body of Emil, Ghost decided that being a bit insane might do him well at the moment. 
He had to get you out of here. And in no world was this man going to get away to live one day more.
“Please, don’t,” Alric begs, clawing at his behemoth build, “I’m not—I wasn’t—!” 
Blood-stained teeth snap into the thin flesh of a visible neck as dead blue eyes keep you in sight like a dog does the moon.
You don’t recall anything after slashing one man’s neck and even that is a blur of flashing colors; instances of one waxing expression waning into another. Trapped between bouts of failing consciousness and pain that could rival someone getting their bones snapped one by one. 
But you know the feeling of moss on your cheek. The shadow that sits above you and the fingers that prod at your back, pressing cooling salves of Silverweed into the burns and cuts. Your eyes weakly flicker, a low moan stuck in your throat. 
Every limb is a cinder block.
“Stop your moving.” The command was stiff but quiet, and the pressure on your spine increased. Flinching, the sensation of tight bindings all along your body became apparent to you, slowly but surely. 
“That…hell?” You cough, throat bare and dry. Sweat drips down your temple. 
Blinking rapidly, you try to focus on the cold wind whipping past your bare skin, the trees in the distance of what appeared to be a glade. The sound of a running stream makes your ears perk.
A canteen was suddenly shoved to your lips and you grunt in surprise, water slicking your closed lips.
“Drink.” You don’t argue, peeling back your lips and letting the liquid drip into your mouth, most falling to the moss under you and getting re-adsorbed into the earth. “...There’s a girl.” 
The metal container disappears just as quickly as it showed up, and you lick at the corner of your lips, cheeks burning at the comment.
Ghost kneels above you, bar a shirt, and you narrow your lids to focus on the black and blue splotches completely covering him. He still doesn’t have a mask, and you glance over the blonde stubble; the scars, and the aggressive set of his eyebrows. The blood had been washed away, and you wondered if the stream in the background of this place was still stained with crimson and the telltale black of eye paint.
“Simon,” whispering seemed appropriate, though you don’t know why. Your voice was better now but still, your body refused to listen to your instructions. Every plea to move your arms or legs was denied, sharp needles poking into your flesh that made you shake. “What…?” 
Blue eyes blink down at you, something hidden in the depths. A finger curls to flick a stray hair from your face slowly. Skin brushes skin.
“Snagged what I could before I ran off. Wasn’t much.” That harsh voice, the gravel in it. You frown weakly, your lids heavy. “Bandages. Extra shirt. Blanket I used to stop the bleeding.”
He won’t tell you he was begging you to wake up when he’d been stuffing old fabric into your open wounds. 
Coughs wrack your frame, whole body jerks that overtake what little peace there was to be found. A hand tilts your head back to the ground, patient as the other grabs your hair, peeling the strands away as a flood of vomit escapes your mouth. 
Eyes burning and face hot, you sputter as a thumb runs deep circles over your scalp. 
“Easy…” Ghost whispers, tattoos like obsidian in the darkness of the world around the two. Late afternoon and this was the first time you’d woken up since he’d been carrying you. A nail was taken out of his heart. 
Seeing your eyes flicker, even filled with the tears as they were, was a blessing he’d thank whatever God that was out there for. “Easy, Sweetheart. Breathe for me.”
“Fuck,” you gasp, shaking more than a leaf. “Fuck it hurts, Simon.” 
He shifts you slightly away from the bile, the familiar words burning his lungs. 
“Evac point is four miles.” It felt like a death sentence to you, your eyes going buggy at the thought. “I’m carrying you there.” 
“Bullshit,” you pant, wheezing. “Your arms are destroyed.” 
Ghost blinks before scowling, sending a glance to his limbs. They’re both raw and skinned, just like his fingers; red with burst blisters the size of rocks. One hurts far more than the other.
“They’re nothing.” 
“Nothing pretty to look at,” blue eyes narrow on you in annoyance, but the dry-humored Brit doesn't miss a beat.
“Seems you’re in good spirits, Sergeant. Fancy walking on your own?” Your lips flick, delirious and high off of whatever pain meds that Ghost had found when he had been carrying you out of the basement of that house. 
Try as he might, the feeling of your dead weight was worse than he ever could have imagined. So, outwardly, he stayed numb but knew that every little look from you was as beautiful as a sunrise. 
“Want me to try?” Palms begin to shift, a hand pressing deep into the moss that bends and yields to your form. 
Ghost snaps forward.
“Fucking Bastard!” He puts weight on the back of your shoulder as you hiccup dull chuckles, “Quit it! Else I’ll leave you here to annoy the damn plants.”
The threat was empty, and your eyes softened as they spread their fatigued gaze over the span of the Brit’s visible skin, glee leaking out. Ghost sighs, shaking his head sharply at you, agitation stuck in his skull as it always was.
So beastly, this man, but his hold on you was about as gentle as you could imagine. 
Your attraction to him was anything but one-sided. You knew his emotions as well as your own; it was quite obvious to everyone but him. The long looks, the concerned glances. His touch freely given.
He had given you his name and, to you, that was about as close to a proposal as a ring was. You’d kissed; you’d shared beds and shared skin. You knew when he was being horrible to himself deep in the confines of his head.
“Simon,” you whisper, and a blue gaze stays stubbornly away, glaring at your burns with venom. A tired smile peels your lips. “Simon.” 
A huff is all you get, a bush of skin as breath wafts over your bare back. Your hand goes to touch his knee, brushing softly over the torn fabric. The flinch would not be noticeable to anyone but you. Brows pull slightly tighter. 
“I had a dream about you, y’know.” Speaking hurt, but the attention that is finally brought your way was worth it. Birds chirp in the distance.
“What’s that?” 
“Hm,” you lightly nod, cheek ruffling moss as you take down slow inhalations. Staring into each other’s eyes you for a moment forget the agony under your skin. “You were trapped by a giant fish underwater.” 
A Blonde eyebrow raises, slow smirk unable to be hidden. It was impossible not to be entirely taken by you. How you speak, how you breathe. Even like this, you had placed a spell of black magic over him, binding the darkness that made up Simon Riley—Ghost—to your every action and whim.
“That right, Sweetheart? What happened, then?”
Chuckling, Ghost’s hold goes to your neck, massaging the skin so delicately that you lose your train of thought for a moment as shivers erupt, “I had to save you.”  
Lips press to your scalp, a bent nose digging despite the shifting cartilage as lion limbs shake with a want to drag you to him. Such a rabid beast that devotes himself to your life.
“You tend to do a lot of the savin’, Love.” It’s muttered into your hair, softly, lowly. Compliments are rare—Ghost prefers actions above all else—but they’re treasured. 
You know what he means.
“Yeah, I love you, too, you brute.” Deep chuckles dance in your ear, and you both stay there for a while, simply breathing in each other as the sky bleeds into the earth. So content, your heart had slowed, the salve in your wounds and the bandages compressing the areas with the most problems and forcing them to be numb. 
When you had nearly fallen asleep, Ghost had peeled back to look down at you; eyes malleable as they slipped over your battered body. 
“Hm,” he hums, reaching to his side and grabbing for the shirt he had stolen. After a few minutes of quiet curses and apologetic kisses, the large piece of fabric was over your top. The Lieutenant had begrudgingly admitted that the scraps of pants you had on now would have to do until you got proper attention. 
“Giving the squirrels a show, then, Simon?” The man rolls his eyes deeply at the sarcastic comment, rubbing up and down your legs to keep circulation going as he readies to move you.
“They better keep quiet ‘bout it,” Ghost grumbles, running a hand through his hair, “Else I’ll have to rip a few tails.”
“So violent,” You wince when your shoulder is gripped, neck limp as your upper half was rotated. Gnashing your teeth, the Lieutenant shushes you comfortably, raising your body to rest in the crook of his large arm. Muscles tense and loosen, your cheek now resting on your Lover’s pec. You hear him hiss silently at the pressure on his broken ribs as guilt hits you. “Not the squirrels’ fault.” 
“It is if they keep looking at ya. Only I get to see you like that.” Your pain-laced laugh is cut off when you’re lifted, large hands under your knees helping equalize your body. 
A strained whine exits your lips, straining to get air as you pant and clench your eyes shut. Ghost wasn’t doing much better—gritting his teeth and tilting his head back. 
Feet stumble before righting themselves, lids opening as lashes flutter over bloodless cheeks to stare down at you. 
The word seems to stop.
“...Tell me you’re alright.” You heard that for what it was—Tell me to keep going, because if you don’t then I won’t be able to. 
Blinking up at him, your nose slots under his chin as you feel him shake with exertion, lips pressing deep into his raging pulse. You swallow down saliva as his grip on you tightens, pressing you closer; giving you his body heat.
“I’m okay, Simon. Not…not lost yet.” 
“Good.” He lets his eyes close for a moment, taking you in as he lets his nose be coated in your scent, the flesh under his fingertips. Ghost knows some of your wounds reopen, and, thus, his bare feet start off into the woods. His men would still be at the Evac point waiting for them. Price would have given the order. “...I’ll be needing you ‘round. Might lose my head otherwise, eh?”
“You do seem to have a few loose screws when I’m not near.” 
“That was an exaggeration,” Simon grumbles. 
You scoff, trying not to puke at his limping steps. The word swirls, but the man carrying you stays ever clear. “No,” you whisper, “No, it wasn’t.”
Scared lips pull up, but the birds respond for him. 
Less than ten percent out from the Evac point is when you drop a tidbit of a thought to the man.
“Y’know what I want, Ghost?” The large Brit side-steps a downed tree, sweat dripping down his chin to splatter to your skin.
“What is it?” He pants, sparing you a glance as his eyebrows are constantly furrowed in concentration. Your talking made it easier to push on.
“A fucking cake. A big one.” Blue eyes blink and his feet nearly stumble to a stop before he forces on. A gasp of a chuckle makes your heart skip a beat as voices start up from the next tree line.
“Keep talking to me, Love, and I’ll buy you the whole bloody bakery.” Soldiers burst from the bushes, and Ghost calls out identification as everyone gapes. Guns immediately lower.
Medics rush forward, but still on high alert, the Lieutenant snaps at them, bringing you closer into his hold as he pushes onward. 
“Where’s the fucking heli?!” Everyone stops and points. Huffing, Ghost shoves forward. 
“The whole bakery?” You slur, giggling and feeling the kiss on your head. 
“Every bastard pastry’ll be yours. Count on it.” 
“Simon, you promised.” Your wheel-chair bound form pouts as the man in question deadpans from behind you, leaning on the handles. His balaclava can only hide so much.
The air is sweet with the scent of desserts and bread. 
“Birdie, you can’t eat all ‘O that, you’ll explode like you took a .308 round to the head.” The woman behind the counter pales, pulling at the collar of her shirt with her smile becoming strained.
“Is that a challenge?” You glance over your shoulder, smirking wide. 
“No,” Simon blanky states, the skin over his nose bridge and under-eye completely black and blue. 
“I think that was a challenge.” 
“It wasn’t.”
The customers grind their palms into their eye sockets, some tuning around in line and leaving entirely.
“Simon,” you intertwine your hands and lean to show him, eyes wide and pleading. “Please.” Drawing out the word, you smile with everything you can. 
The both of you connect in a battle of wills—you with that infectious innocent and sly nature, and Simon with a tight glare and tired eyes. A blatant will to please you in every aspect and a need to see you happy at all times. This goes on for a full minute before a loud sigh echoes off the walls, shoulders deflating. A hidden kiss is pressed firmly to your head.
You giggle loudly at the authoritative order.
“One of everything.”
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TAGS:
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rainba · 5 months
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Animalistic Instincts ღ
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a/n: I just wanted to write a small thing about Luka being in heat some more... Particularly his breeding kink~ I made this one a fem reader, but if anyone wants a male version of this, I'd be happy to write it! ( ´ ▿ ` )
For this, reader is implied to be living with Luka.
TWs: breeding kink, dubcon (?), silencing via fingers shoved in mouth, dirty talk, unwanted pregnancy on darling's end, Luka being Luka.
NSFW, 18+ only!
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Luka is a man who typically never loses his composure. He’s almost always calm, careful, manipulative, and smart to some degree. It’s something that he takes pride in.
…However, as a man born half-fox, there are days where the animal within him likes to take control. Every year when winter rolls around, that’s when his heat takes over him. And when that happens, he can no longer think for himself– he just goes wherever his dick takes him.
There are some times where he can be rational. Luka can still reasonably cook, clean, work, and take care of both you and him. However, he needs to fuck multiple times between tasks, which is a little inconvenient. He can still function overall, though.
But… There are days where his mind turns into total mush, and all he can think about is fucking you raw.
Luka knows that it’s gonna be a rough day when he wakes up and his first thoughts are centered around how badly he wants to breed and get you pregnant.
God, the idea of it all sounds so damn enticing to him. He’ll fuck you over and over again until you can’t walk, stuffing you full of his hot seed as he lovingly rubs your stomach. He can’t stop thinking about how beautiful you’ll be when you’re all swollen and big while carrying his children. Luka will take extra-good care of you every step of the way… He’ll spoil you like a princess.
“We’re going to have so many kids,” He’ll growl darkly as he savagely thrusts his cock deep inside of you, shoving his cum further in as he locks your hips in place. At some point, you’ll lose count of how many rounds of sex you’ve had. 
“We’ll make a huge family.”
If you whine and tell him that you don’t want any kids, he’ll silence you by shoving his fingers deep inside your throat. You obviously don’t mean that…! You’re just a little confused and worn-out, that’s all. So instead of whining and saying things you don’t mean, how about you suck on his fingers and take his cock like a good girl?
After a couple rounds have passed and you’re thoroughly tired and overstimulated, Luka will start to slow down… But he doesn’t stop. Instead, he’ll just lay you down on your side and he’ll curl up behind you, raising one of your legs as he sensually fucks your pussy from the back. His breath is hot and heavy as he buries his face into your neck.
Luka's cum would be, quite literally, overflowing out of you and spilling onto the bed, but that doesn’t stop him. The animal inside of him demands that he keeps going until he physically collapses.
Also, it doesn’t matter if you feel all hot, sweaty, and disgusting– Luka downright refuses to let you take a shower. However, he will let you lay in bed as he takes a wet rag and wipes you down. His one rule is that you’re absolutely not allowed to clean up his cum. If you wash it out, then that means you’re lowering the chances of getting pregnant...! Right?
Afterwards, if you still cry at the thought of getting pregnant, he’ll kiss away your tears while reassuring you that everything will be okay– and that there’s nothing to worry about! Bearing his children can’t be that bad… If anything, it’ll be a wonderful experience! Don’t you worry your pretty little head, he’ll spoil you rotten for the next 9 months. ~
…But when tomorrow rolls around, if his mind isn’t mush anymore, the delayed post-nut regret will hit him like a speeding train. He’d consider giving you a morning-after pill, but… Honestly? Even when he’s not insanely horny, the idea of starting a family with you sounds nice. So, he wouldn’t give you it unless you genuinely begged him to.
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steddiehyperfixation · 10 months
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don't you forget about me (part two)
(part one)
Steve doesn’t know how long they sit there in silence, waiting. It’s making him insane. The seconds pass too slow; the seconds pass too fast. His mind is a storm; his mind is empty. He’s feeling too much; he’s not feeling at all. He paces the room; he sits catatonically against a wall. He needs to get out of here; he needs to stay. 
He’s been here before, just barely over a week ago, tense and anxious and despairing and waiting for news. But waiting to hear if Eddie will ever remember him again really should not feel this much worse than waiting to hear if Eddie will ever fucking breathe again. Steve thinks there must be something wrong with him. He’s being selfish and stupid. His pathological fucking need to be loved is not what’s important right now. Eddie is alive and awake and okay and that’s the only thing that really matters. That’s the only thing he should really care about.
Steve’s pacing again now, yanking his hands through his hair as he does laps around the room until Eddie finally appears in the doorway. 
Eddie must’ve just cracked a joke or something because the nurse is laughing as she pushes his bed into the room and he’s got this adorable grin on his face. Steve’s heart twists in his chest and he nearly bursts into tears all over again because god does he want nothing more than to press a kiss to those dimpled cheeks. 
“Good news, boys,” Eddie announces. “My brain is fully intact.”
“There’s no physical permanent damage to his brain,” the nurse elaborates. “His amnesia is likely a result of psychological trauma and the temporary disruption of brain function from blood loss and lack of oxygen that occurred at the time of his injury. But there is no obvious reason why he shouldn’t regain his full memory, given time.” 
So there’s hope. Steve breathes a sigh of relief. 
“That is good news,” Wayne agrees. 
Steve asks, “How much time?” 
The nurse gives an unhelpful shrug. “Impossible to say. It could be anywhere from days to months, or even years. I’m sorry, there’s no way for us to know.” 
Years. “Okay.” Steve pinches the bridge of his nose. He can keep it together. He can. “Thanks,” he tells the nurse. “I, uh-” He makes the mistake of looking at Eddie who looks right through him, and Steve can’t keep it together anymore actually. “I gotta update the kids,” he mutters, backing his way towards the door. Wayne nods in acknowledgment; no protests this time at Steve’s excuse to leave.
“See ya, Harrington,” Eddie calls after him, casual, impersonal, like they're nothing more than acquaintances passing by each other in a high school hallway.  
Steve can’t get out of that hospital fast enough. 
He makes it to his car in record time, slamming the door shut and sinking heavily into the driver’s seat. A ragged sob tries to claw its way up his throat now that he’s finally alone, but he forces it back, staving off his breakdown for just a little bit longer. As much as it was an excuse, he really does have to update the kids. 
Steve fishes his walkie out of the glove box. “Code - whatever, I don’t know. Code Eddie,” he says. He doesn’t remember the kids’ system of codes, nor would he be sure which one this news falls under even if he did. 
“Is he okay? Is he awake?” comes an immediate, eager response from Dustin. “Over.” 
“Yeah, he’s awake, and he’s fine, except he’s got pretty bad amnesia. The doctors say it should be temporary, but right now he doesn’t remember anything since May of ‘85,” Steve explains, trying his best to keep his voice even.
“Steve, come pick me up and take me to see him,” Dustin demands, “right now. Over.” 
“Me too. Over,” Mike chimes in before Steve can respond. 
“And us,” Erica adds as well. 
Steve pauses for a second, both to steady his own breath and to make sure no one else wants to jump in on this too, before he reminds them, “He won’t know you, any of you.” 
“I don’t care,” Dustin says, bossy as ever. “Just come get me. Over.” 
“Jesus Christ, kid,” Steve mutters to himself. He sucks in another breath; it wobbles dangerously. He’s just about reached his limit on how long he can keep himself from falling apart. “I- I need a minute, alright?” he manages through the walkie. “Can you just give me, like, an hour? And then I’ll take you guys to visit Eddie.” 
Steve doesn’t wait for a response before he slams the antenna closed, tosses the walkie aside, and finally, finally lets himself shatter. That sob rips free from his throat, followed by another and another and another. Tears flood from his eyes; his nose runs. It’s an ugly, gross, visceral cry that leaves him exhausted and raw and aching to be held by the time the last sob shudders out of him. Drained and hollow, he craves the embrace of someone who knows him, someone who loves him. 
He sweeps up his broken pieces, wipes the mess of tears and snot off his face, and drives to Robin’s house.
“Steve, oh my god.” Robin pulls him into a hug the second she opens the door and sees the look on his face. Steve clings to her. “What happened?” 
“Eddie’s awake,” he mutters dismally. 
“Oh! Not the tone I’d expect you to deliver that news in, but okay.” Robin pulls back, looking at him with narrow-eyed concern and confusion as she analyzes his puffy eyes and red nose and swollen lips. “And you look like you’ve just been crying because…?”
“Because he doesn’t remember me, Rob,” Steve sighs. “He doesn’t remember anything from the past 11 months.” 
Robin’s eyes go wide now. “Shit,” she says, so plainly it startles a short laugh out of Steve. 
“Yeah,” he agrees. “Shit.” 
She asks him more questions as she walks down the hallway so they can talk in her room. Steve once again reiterates what was said at the hospital. 
“So you didn’t tell him you two were a thing?” Robin asks, closing her door behind them. 
“Of course I didn’t.” Steve flops back onto her bed. “I didn’t want to spook him.” 
She sits beside him. “You didn’t want to spook him,” she repeats, looking down at him with raised eyebrows, “but you told him about Vecna.” 
“Well, yeah. I just-” He lifts his arms to gesture vaguely into the air as he tries to explain himself. “I mean, imagine how you would feel if you woke up in a hospital and some random guy you’ve spoken to maybe twice was by your bedside telling you you’ve been in a relationship with him for the past 9 months.” 
“Uh, I don’t know, dingus, probably about the same as I’d feel if said guy told me I’d nearly died fighting some evil twisted creature from a hell dimension,” Robin retorts.
Steve drops his hands onto his chest with a huff, shaking his head. “No, trust me. He seemed far less surprised by that than he did to hear that we were even just friends,” he says, a bit bitterly. Tears are pricking at his eyes again as he looks up at his best friend. “You didn’t see the way he looked at me, Robin. All he saw was King Steve.”
Robin softens, snark replaced with sympathy. “That sucks, Steve. I’m so sorry.” 
Steve sighs in agreement that yes this really fucking sucks. He sits up and scoots back so that he’s slumped against the wall, hitting the back of his head against it. “I think I’m a horrible person,” he admits, just venting now, “because of course I’m glad Eddie’s alive and all I really want is for him to be okay, and I know the nurse said he should remember eventually, but there’s still some sick part of me that thinks maybe it would’ve hurt less if he had just died.”
“I don’t think that makes you a horrible person,” Robin assures him as she settles next to him, shoulder to shoulder. “I think you’re just grieving, and grief is weird sometimes.”
“It was one of the worst things I’ve ever felt,” he mutters, “when he looked at me without recognition. To see it on his face, just the- the absence of everything that we’d built. I’ve never felt so- so- I don’t know, it was like I couldn’t breathe. He just- he doesn’t know that I love him. He…he doesn’t know that he loved me...” 
Because that’s what it is, isn’t it? It’s not that he’s lost someone that he loves, it’s that he’s lost someone who loves him. Because Eddie’s not gone, just his love for Steve is, and that’s what’s tearing him apart. It’s the fact that there’s one less person in the world who loves him. It’s the fact that Steve’s got this big gaping hole inside of him that’s always made him so desperate to be loved, liked, wanted, needed; and his biggest fucking fear is becoming obsolete. He could probably trace it back to his parents, the first to forget him, the first to stop loving him, but the fact remains that now Eddie has fulfilled that fear too. Now Eddie has carved that pit a little deeper, a little darker, validating the voice that whispers within it and tells Steve that he is forgettable, unlovable, so easy to abandon and erase. 
“Well, I love you,” Robin tells him, like she can read his mind (which, at this point, she probably can). She slides an arm around his shoulders, hugs him close. “And I’m not going anywhere.” 
Fragile as he is right now, Steve falls apart again in her arms, and she holds him together. Because she knows him, because she loves him.
It’s a quieter cry this time, soft and sniffly. Whereas the last one wracked through his body and left him fatigued, this one flows from him almost gently, and when his tears finally subside and he lifts his head from where it had been buried in his friend’s shoulder, Steve actually feels a little bit better, a little bit stronger. Which is good, because he’s gonna have to face Eddie again soon. 
“Thank you,” he says quietly as he pulls away from Robin, wiping at his eyes and glancing at the clock on her nightstand. It’s definitely been an hour by now, probably more. He stands. “I have to go, I promised the kids I’d take them to see Eddie.” 
“Then I’m coming too.” Robin stands with him. “For moral support.” 
Steve gives her a grateful smile. “I love you so fucking much, you know that?” 
“Yeah.” She grins at him. “I know.” 
The nurses have changed his bandages and upped his morphine, so Eddie’s considerably hazy now but at least he can raise his headrest and prop himself up a bit without nearly blacking out from pain. He’s boredly flicking through channels on the shitty TV in front of him, alone since Wayne had to leave for work, when Harrington returns followed by a very unexpected group consisting of Robin Buckley and four strange children. 
“Sorry,” Harrington announces their presence with an apologetic shrug, “I know you don’t know them anymore, but they insisted.” 
“Eddie!” a pudgy, curly-haired kid shouts before Eddie can even react, coming barrelling towards him and trying to hug him. 
“Ow!” Eddie yelps, pain flaring even through the extra morphine. “Fucking Christ, kid! Be careful!” 
The kid jumps back immediately, eyes wide. “Shit. Sorry.” 
“S’fine,” Eddie grumbles.
The kid looks at him expectantly for a moment before seeming to realize, “Oh, right, you don’t remember me. I’m Dustin.” 
“Ah, so you’re the guy I sacrificed myself for,” Eddie mutters, and Dustin looks a little sheepish. That means these must be ‘the kids’ Harrington had been talking about earlier. He surveys the group for a second. “Actually, I think we have met before,” he tells Dustin. “And you too.” He glances at a pale, dark-haired kid. The other two - a Black boy with a flat-top and a younger Black girl - look less familiar, though. “There was this, uh, open day thing at the high school for next year’s incoming freshmen; I talked to you about Hellfire.”
“Yeah!” Dustin’s whole face lights up, so bright and infectious it makes Eddie grin too. “Yeah, you did!” 
“So you guys joined the club, then?” 
This sparks a very animated conversation about D&D, the rest of the kids (Mike, Lucas, and Erica, as they soon reintroduce themselves) gathering around his bed now too to join in. It makes him feel a bit more like himself again, familiar, normal. Except, of course, for the fact that they’re not only talking about how they defeated Vecna in Eddie’s “totally epic” and “sadistic” campaign (adjectives courtesy of Dustin and Mike respectively), but also filling in more pieces of the story of how they defeated him in real life too. Still, it’s nice, fun. He totally understands how he could’ve gotten attached to these kids.
At some point, Eddie glances over to find Harrington hanging back and just watching them talk, fondly, wistfully. Robin whispers something to him and he sort of smiles, just a trace, and whispers something back. They seem close, intimate. Eddie wonders if they’re dating, and then he wonders why that thought makes him feel a bit sick. He waves them over. Harrington looks like he’s about to protest, but Robin gives him a Look and he allows her to grab his hand and drag him to join the crowd around Eddie’s bed. 
“So, what’s your deal, Buckley?” Eddie asks her. He doesn’t know her very well, they’ve only crossed paths a few times in the bandroom, but right now that makes her the most familiar person in the room to him. “Are you and Harrington a thing now? Is that how you’re involved in all this?” 
Robin wrinkles her nose and drops Harrington’s hand. “Ew, no. Definitely not.” 
“She’s my best friend,” Harrington says. 
Eddie snorts, doesn’t know why he finds that so comical. (He’s starting to get tired and it’s making him loopy. Or maybe it’s just the morphine.) “You've got a funny choice of friends nowadays, don’t you? Me and band geek Buckley and a bunch of nerdy freshmen.” He looks at Harrington with incredulous amusement. “Who would've thought, huh? Steve Harrington, collector of geeks and freaks.” 
Harrington doesn’t seem to find it as funny. He shrugs. “Yeah, well, it’s better than King Steve, collector of asshole bullies and shallow one-night stands.” 
“Yeah, ‘course it is,” Eddie agrees through another huff of laughter that breaks off into a yawn. “Didn’t mean it as a bad thing, Stevie. Was a compliment.” 
“Alright.” The barest hint of a smile flickers across Harrington’s face now, but then he’s looking away and corralling the kids and saying, “We should head out, let you get some rest.” 
And Eddie kind of wishes he’d stay.
(part three!)
taglist: @romanticdestruction @daydreamsandcrashingwaves @paintsplatteredandimperfect @hallucinatedjosten @mugloversonly @estrellami-1 @alongcomesaspider @thatonebadideapanda @tell-me-a-secret-a-nice-one @dragonmama76 @wxrmland @nuggies4life @sirsnacksalot @myguiltyartpleasure @marklee-blackmore @vinteraltus @sebastiansstanswhore @0happyeverafter0 @scarlet-malfoy (only tagged people who explicitly asked to be tagged; if you would like to be added or removed from this list please lmk!)
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clockwayswrites · 5 months
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*writes 800+ words of Another Red but not the part I'm supposed to*
Jason breathed in the heavy clove scented smoke, taking comfort in it. He didn’t smoke often anymore, but if Bruce and Alfred hadn’t gotten him to stop, he didn’t think he ever would. Somethings were just too much part of a person. The smoke swirled up into the night air, caught in the constant breeze a harbor city like Gotham had.
“You don’t have to do this kid, put yourself in danger like this.”
“No, I do,” Rabbit bit out. Jason was pretty sure if he could see the kid’s teeth, they would be bared in a feral smile. “What I can’t do is let people get hurt when I can go and help them.”
“Yeah, and what about your safety? You could die.”
Rabbit laughed like that was some sort of big joke and Jason felt himself bristling at the reaction. Jason knew how dangerous this was— more than anyone else in his family. He’d felt that fear and pain and—
“Yeah, well, Hood, sorta too late for that.”
Jason’s anger left him so suddenly that he felt cold in it’s absence. No—
“Do you know, it’s not the death itself that’s bad,” Rabbit drawled, almost lazily. He finally lit his gifted cigarette. He didn’t take his mask off, like Jason had hoped he would, but ducked his head down and pushed the mask up just enough to take a slow drag. He looked so small like that, hunched over on himself with the bright ember dangling from his fingertips. “The body stopping everything… it’s sorta of quiet. All those functions we don’t think about going on all the time— breath’n and blink’n and beat’n… it’s quite without all that going on. Nah, it’s not the actually dy’n that’s so bad, it’s the fear that comes with it.”
“Yeah.” The admission almost hurt Jason to choke out.
“Yeah,” Rabbit agreed. He took another drag from the cigarette. His free hand was curled over his head, likely to keep his face hidden from Jason, but it just made Rabbit look all the more like a scared kit. “And that fucking fear? That worst part? I live with that all the fucking time, Hood, so nah, I’m not so ‘fraid of dy’n‘gain.”
“At least let me help you avoid it,” Jason said. He didn’t mean to plead but fuck if he wasn’t.
Rabbit snorted and took one more drag before he snuffed out his cig and stood. “Yeah? And how do you plan to do that?”
All traces of the drawling accent was gone and that hint of Gotham was back in Rabbit’s voice.
Jason wondered which was more real.
He reached into his belt instead of pressing the matter— instead of pressing the accent or take on death or talking Rabbit out of this life. Jason knew in every shattered bone of his that it wouldn’t do any good. This life already had the kid by the neck and there was nothing to do about it. It would choke Rabbit out one way or another, just like the rest of them.
The red fob was innocuous against his glove, could hardly even see it in the dim, yellow light of th Narrows. Red on red on red—
“Take it.”
Rabbit didn’t.
“What is it?” he asked instead, leaning forward just a little.
“A panic button.”
Rabbit snorted and flicked the remains of the cigarette at Jason. “I’m not taking a fucking tracker.”
“It’s not a tracker until you activate it. You press and hold the button on each side for two seconds and only if you do that is it a tracker. I can’t activate it remotely on my end or anything,” Jason said. “It’s the same one I give some street kids and sex workers. There’s nothing special about it, it’s just a tracker.”
Rabbit watched Jason with an eerie stillness. “Swear it.”
“I swear, it’s just a panic button. It’s only a track if you turn it on.”
Rabbit still didn’t move. Jason sighed and started to pull his hand back before Rabbit darted forward and grabbed the panic button. The little fucker was quick.
“I won’t press it just for anything,” Rabbit said with a defiant jut of his chin.
“Wouldn’t expect you too,” Jason said with an honest, easy shrug.
Rabbit watched a moment longer before he pulled out a keyring without any keys and put the button in. It hung between a battered food shelter tag and a library barcode that Jason was sure was counterfeit.
“Yeah, whatever. Now go on and get, Hood. Don’t you have a whole city to look after?”
“Fucker,” Jason said fondly and stamped his own cigarette out before he tucked the butt away in a pouch slot. The small part of him that was still very much a Bat wanted to do the same with Rabbit’s so he could try and pull some DNA. Instead he flicked Rabbit off and leapt off the roof to the kid’s laughter.
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dorkszn · 6 months
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SOULLESS + katsuki bakugou
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SYNP — after losing your quirk, you had no idea what to do with yourself and katsuki couldn’t help you
WARNINGS — masc reader, suicide, quirk loss, heavy angst | 1.3K
A/N — did i cook, y’all? 🥺
Your quirk was what made you. That was the mentality most people in this world had. It was what you grew up on. You took it seriously. Your quirk defined you.
Katsuki knew this. He understood you. Even he knew he was more than his quirk. He never put you down for it, he just pushed you to work harder.
And you pushed. You pushed and pushed and pushed. Until it all fell to shit.
You don’t process the silencing sound of the gun shooting until you feel the impact. The world slows while simultaneously crumbling around you. You can’t hear. You can’t hear Sir Nighteye shouting, you can’t hear Izuku’s gasp, you can’t hear Togata’s cry. You just feel. Feel a part of you being ripped away.
The bullet sits in your body. And you feel. You feel the gash in your flesh. You feel the blood seeping from the wound. You feel the sting of its penetration. Then you feel the strength drain from you. You pushed too far.
Everyone described your time in the hospital as uncharacteristic and silent. The only time you spoke was when Katsuki visited you. And he felt. He felt the emptiness radiating from you. Even then, you sat in quietness as you attempted to tell him how you were feeling. Empty. Weak. Soulless.
He couldn’t treat you like everyone else. For one of the first times in his life, he knew, a quirkless person was nothing less than him. He had to treat them right. He had to treat you right. Which he did of course.
Your mental and emotional condition always hurt him. Always made him feel like a piece of him was missing. Even when you were allowed to return to your training. When you’d help him with his special moves or by sitting on his back while he did pushups.
It was a mental trick. It was supposed to make you feel like you were back. It was supposed to make people see you and smile and pat you on the back. Giving you “good job!” and “we’re glad to see you back.” But you weren’t back. You weren’t anything. And nobody knew. Nobody knew until Katsuki and Aizawa did.
A normal day of physical therapy while everyone else was training. One where Katsuki requested to come with you and one where Aizawa sat in with you. Your arm wasn’t functioning like before. No part of you was. Not your mind, heart, or soul, if it was even still there.
The physical therapist gave you your usual spiel before leaving you with the two men.
“The way you’re taking this ain’t very heroic, you know?” Aizawa told you, taking a seat next to you on the bench. He put a comforting hand on your head, pulling you close to him.
Your words struck through the two like the bullet that hit you. The bullet that robbed you. “I’m not a hero anymore. I’m nothing.”
That’s when the two realized. You weren’t the same. The hero you were and the person you were now, were completely different.
Katsuki saw the signs. He knows he did. His only mistake was not knowing what to do about them. He had sick thoughts. He thought maybe if Izuku had gone through with his words, he’d know the signs. He’s grateful that Izuku is alive and well but a bit upset that he didn’t have the experience he needed.
You zoned out often, stayed in your dorm all the time, slept in class, and barely spoke at lunch, you wouldn’t text with your old spark and enthusiastically run up to him after school. He missed you. Not any more than he does now but he did. Even though you were right there. Like you were just a body floating its way through life.
He told Aizawa. Aizawa said to give you time. Katsuki doesn’t blame him. Not entirely. He couldn’t have known. But giving you time was the wrong move. Giving you time was the last thing you needed.
Katsuki knows he should’ve been smarter the day you gave him a letter. An envelope that you didn’t want him to open until the next day. Aizawa got one too. So did Hitoshi. And Izuku. But none of them thought anything of it. Just a way for you to get the words you couldn’t say out.
Katsuki should’ve known after seeing the way you grinned around everyone and stayed by his side all day. But he was stupid. He thought you were getting better.
Dear, Katsuki Bakugou.
Katsuki. I love you more than anything in this lifetime. I am forever grateful for what you’ve given me. My life has gone so much better than I ever expected because of you. I want to give you the world. I tried. I tried really hard. But I can’t. Everything feels dull and nothing feels right. I feel trapped and I don’t feel like myself. And I can’t get out of this slump. Being here feels like being dead. I’m not here. I know this would hurt to text you or say to your face. I can’t think of those eyes of yours without it hurting me. Nothing is your fault. Never. Thank you, Katsuki. I love you in this life and beyond. Take your time, hold your ground, and become the best. I’m rooting for you. I’ll see you on the other side or in another life. I know if I become myself again, I will always find you.
Love, your dumbass, y/n l/n.
The wind rushed past you. Everything looked so different from your view. The same scenery you’d be taking in for the past few months sits ahead of you but it looks different. It feels nice. Maybe because this was the last time you’d see it.
The ground glares up at you, it’s pavement calling to you. The moonlight shines on your skin, casting your shadow on the rooftop of the dorms. You try to smile. To take it in one last time. But you can’t. Your mind won’t let you. Whatever was left of your soul won’t let you.
You just take a deep breath. And feel. You feel the bullet breaking your flesh and shattering your bone. You feel Katsuki’s warmth surrounding you. You feel Aizawa’s hand on your head. You feel and feel and feel. Before you fall.
It only took minutes after sunrise before you were found. An unlucky student stumbles across a corpse. Their blood-curdling scream immediately grabbed the whole world’s attention. It only took hours for them to collect you and identify you.
After that, it only took minutes for it to be announced to the class. It only took seconds for Katsuki to unwillingly break down. As fast as the bullet ripped your quirk from you, his soul, his mind, and his heart were ripped from him.
It only took seconds for the pity and grief to intoxicate the room. Poisoning every first year and teacher at the school. It only took days for Katsuki to finally convince himself to read the letter. It only took seconds for him to break down again and be pulled into Aizawa’s chest.
It only took a week for Katsuki’s world to crumble.
He visits you through the snowy days and warm nights. Sitting in front of your stone and replacing your flowers. Your soul is long gone and it feels as if his was too. The picture of you in his t-shirt, stupidly grinning at the camera stares into him. And he feels. He feels the hurt. He feels the pain. He feels your warmth. He feels your missed presence. He feels and he feels and he feels. Until he doesn’t think he can anymore.
“You weren’t nothing, y/n. You were everything.” He pushed the words out.
1K notes · View notes
actiniumwrites · 7 months
Text
kiss me (not)
synopsis: how they’d react when you dodge/ wipe off their kisses for a day as a prank
characters: gaming, kujou sara, heizou, tighnari, cyno, kaveh, and lyney x gn!reader
warnings: fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, some humor, established relationships, etc
notes: i love this prompt so much omg. i’ve read a lot of fics other people have written for different fandoms and i’m actually shocked i haven’t written it before considering i eat it up every time (especially when there’s some angst 🫠)
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gaming:
the first time he sees you wipe off his kiss, something in him dies a little, especially when you don’t say anything after he asks if you’re okay
so he starts doubting himself and compensating for where he may went wrong
maybe he had bad breath? or you weren’t having a good day today?
he hates that he doesn’t know what he did wrong, and even worse, why you keep doing it throughout the day
you only stop when you see the way he genuinely starts beating himself up over it, deciding it wasn’t funny anymore and honestly never was
“it was a prank,” you nudge him softly, regret overflowing from your voice, “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. i shouldn’t have kept it going for so long.”
a relieved breathe and a small smile from him follow right after. you can tell he’s still a bit stuck on the whole thing, but deep down, he’s just grateful he didn’t screw up somewhere because there’s no way in hell gaming would ever let himself lose you
“it’s okay,” he breathes out, clutching your hand a little tighter than usual, “just please, don’t do it again, okay?”
kujou sara:
to say she’s confused is an understatement
she’ll immediately backtrack to make sure she actually just saw that correctly. did you really just wipe off her kiss?
so she goes in for another one, and sure enough, you dodge her this time and send her a quick goodbye before slipping out of the house and running off to work
it legitimately ruins her whole day. she can’t even function at work because it’s all she can think about
and by the time she’s home at night, she’s already tired and just wants you but she’s also too afraid that maybe she did something to upset you
fortunately for her, you spare her of the prank knowing your girlfriend well enough to know that the second she walks through the door she had a shitty day
so you apologize and tell her it was just a prank and you didn’t mean any harm
and she wants to be so mad at you for it, but literally can’t no matter how hard she tries so instead she just gives in and gets the kiss she’s been thinking about all day
heizou:
he realizes right away what you’re doing and finds it rather amusing
so he’ll play along too, not trying to kiss you at all and even going a step further and not showing you any sort of physical attention
try to hold his hand? not happening. hugging him? not a chance
and it ends up becoming a competition, because what can you say? you’re both competitive people
goes on until the end of the day and only ends when you’re both too tired to keep it up
“you’re no fun, you know?” you poke his chest as you tiredly lean against him
he smiles down at you, “how so? i let you play your little pranks, didn’t i? i even played along.”
you just scoff and scoot away, tucking yourself into the warm blankets and ignoring his teasing
but then he’ll grab you and pull you into his chest, giving into you, “fine. next time i’ll give you the reaction you want. happy now?”
tighnari:
the opposite of heizou: he’s very unamused, and is very aware of what’s going on.
as soon as you back away from him after he tries to kiss you, his face falls into a deadpan and he crosses his arms menacingly
“i’ll have you know i don’t find pranks like these very funny,” he’ll immediately tell you off, not wanting to act so childishly when it comes to affection
tighnari cares a lot about people, whether he shows it or not, so to have you pretend to dodge it upsets him — even if it is meant to be a mere lighthearted prank
so you apologize instantly, feeling a little bad over the whole ordeal, “it’s just a prank, you know? i thought it would be funny to see how you’d react.”
definitely the kind of person to feel a little bashful and guilty for overreacting over something so silly, but also doesn’t want to admit it
so he’ll just silently kiss you and act like nothing happened, secretly hoping you’ll never try to pull something like that again
cyno:
at first, he thinks it’s kinda funny since he always plays jokes. however, i think he’s similar to tighnari in the sense that he also takes a little offense to it
like, he knows it’s a joke, but he just can’t help feeling a little hurt over it
“is something the matter?” he’ll ask while you’re both on the way to meet with friends. you shake your head no, fighting a smile
defeatedly, he leaves it at that, knowing you won’t budge. he’ll feel miserable the entire time and won’t stop thinking about how you won’t give the prank up, even in front of your friends
and when you both leave for the night, he crosses his arms and confronts you as you both walk home, “it isn’t funny.”
“what isn’t funny?”
“your prank. it isn’t funny. i don’t like the way you’re avoiding kissing me,” he says bluntly. it makes your heart sink into your stomach a bit, admittedly starting to feel a bit bad
so you apologize and work everything out, telling him you got the idea from alhaitham who was curious to see how he’d react in a situation like that — that, and he felt like pissing cyno off for a day, but you didn’t need to know that part
he’ll get frustrated, but is glad it’s all settled. he’ll also be extra affectionate throughout the next week, feeling as if he somehow lost time with you
kaveh:
gets so offended omg he will literally hate you
the first time you do it, his jaw drops to the floor and he calls you out on it immediately
“what was that?” he points an accusatory finger at you
you bite back a smile and feign innocence, “huh? what are you talking about?”
will not let you leave for the day until you drop the act and properly return his kiss
when you continue to go on with the prank, however, he’ll start to get all pouty and just ask you to kiss him
and he just looks so cute that you cup his face and give him a big fat kiss and walk out the door immediately after without a word and a big smile on your face, satisfied with his reaction
lyney:
he gets so dramatic about it it’s not even funny
will literally clutch his chest and fall to the ground in public so that you stop him
when you don’t and you let him face public humiliation (because you find it funny too), he stops himself and gets back up
follows you around like a lost puppy all day and will constantly try to sneak in a kiss while you’re caught of guard, but you never fall for it and he gets so much more frustrated each and every time
then he begs lynette and freminet to help him, except they think it’s funny too seeing how whipped he is for you
and he knows it’s a prank too, but the fact that you won’t break makes him so lovingly annoyed with you
you don’t stop until lynette genuinely intervenes, complaining about how annoying lyney had gotten throughout the day, “please end his suffering already. you know my brother is an idiot who doesn’t shut up and i’ve had enough of him today.”
you laugh it off, but ultimately agree
so you go and find him, which wasn’t that hard, and tap him on the shoulder before planting a gentle kiss to his lips, “sorry for pranking you. it was just too funny of an opportunity to pass up.”
“you’re so mean to me,” he’ll complain, but will then continue to kiss you so often that you’re now the annoyed one instead
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snailmail444 · 9 months
Note
Alex x Reader 🙈
All Tied Up
18+ 💚 NSFW 💚 MDNI
Alex x Reader
It’s the way I have been absolutely possessed the past few days. I’ve been in a huge writing slump but then the new year hit and my brain just. Decided to function? We’re riding the wave folks we’ll see how long it keeps up lol.
ANYWAY! Enjoy the third fulfilled ask in a week. I hope y’all aren’t sick of me yet lmao. NSFW under the cut and remember MDNI
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“Are you sure you can’t break these?” You ask, pulling at one of the knots binding Alex to your bed.
Alex stares up at you, all big green eyes and still-confident smirk. “Even I can’t do that. I’ll prove it. But you don’t have to worry baby. It’s no sweat, I can behave.”
He flexes and you watch the veins in his arms protrude as he turns his wrists this way and that, trying and failing to find any give in your handiwork. A flush burns down your face, and your throat feels dry as you eye him up and down—large and muscular and completely at your mercy.
You would have never thought that Alex and his body builder physique would be in such a submissive position. Naked, spread eagle and tied to your bedposts, muscles taught and cock flushed. Laid out for you to devour however you please.
You run your palms up his chest, and his skin is hot against yours, smooth and solid as you work your way up. His pounding heart startles you, feeling how fast and hard it’s beating in his chest. For a minute you stall, feeling the strong rhythmic thump, and almost ask if he’s alright.
Almost, except you can see the way his cock twitches and precome beads at the tip just from your idle touches. You haven’t so much as breathed on it, yet it’s straining so hard already it’s obvious his heart rate isn’t due to nerves.
You straddle him, fighting your cocky smile away, and purposefully maintain eye contact as you suck one of his nipples. Alex instantly forgets his restraints, jerking an arm and making the bed-frame rattle. He was right—the knots aren’t going anywhere.
He pants out a heavy breath, and you hide your delight as you lavish attention on his other nipple. You won’t tease him for too long. Not this first time, anyway.
You push your hips back as you skim your teeth along his shoulder, making sure to rub it in that you can touch as much as you want by stroking up his ribcage, down his sides, along his arms.
Only a little more teasing, you think as you glide your wet cunt across his cock, pretending to have trouble guiding it in as you squeeze it’s base and coat it in your arousal.
“Ahh, please,” he whines, hips bucking as much as the pitiful give in his binds allow, “baby I can’t.”
“What happened Alex? It was no sweat what, two minutes ago? Not even?”
He opens his mouth to respond, and you stop him by sinking all the way down on his cock. His hands strain, and you can tell by the way he’s flushing and tossing his face to the side he’d be hiding in his hands to mute the stuttering moan that falls past his lips.
You don’t give him a moment of respite, electing to ride hard and fast. Without the use of his hands Alex can’t modulate your pace. Typically he’d slow you down, keep you steady, but now you’re allowed the free rein to completely ruin him.
“Ah, w-wait,” he huffs, hips twitching and grinding like he might be able to make you listen to him without using his safe word.
It’s too bad you aren’t in a listening mood.
He can’t take it for too long, biting his lip and breathing in stuttering gasps while he tries to stave off his orgasm.
“Ba-aby, I—“ Alex’s voice cracks, “I’m not gonna—hah—I’m really—“
Either he can’t hold himself off anymore, or he realizes you’re not going to listen, because Alex’s babbling ceases as his back arches and he comes with a whine, his muscles straining and flushed down to his chest.
Your cunt throbs as you slow down through his orgasm, gyrating against his hips until he stops twitching. He’s starting to catch his breath, and you bite down on a smile as you pick up the pace, watching as his face twists up.
“A-h-ah—you—I—“ his voice is a squeak, stopping abruptly as he feel you continuing to rock against his soft cock. A low-grade hum buzzing out of his chest continually as you ride him relentlessly. When it doesn’t stop, you finally still.
“Safe word?” You ask, stroking his cheek and feeling the heat of his skin against yours.
“Nuh—no,” he gasps out, bucking into your cunt despite the way it makes him cry out.
You smirk. This is going to be a fun night.
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cassyxox · 1 year
Text
I’m so obsessed with the concept of bbf!ellie I had to make a little post..
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Imagine bbf!ellie teaching you how to play guitar..18+
ur back pressed against her front..her fingers guiding ur’s to different strings. she would so tease you. letting out sweet little praises.
“see?..your gettin’ the hang of it..”
“ur doing so good I’m-…kinda surprised” she chuckled. making ur neck shiver. her face angled around you. watching from below.
you barely could even function with the way ellie was praising you everytime u did good.
but when u didn’t..she would grip ur wrist. rather softly. letting out a little “tsk tsk tsk” you on the other hand breathing out a small “ahh..” brows furrowed from the grip she had on u.
“wrong string babe..”
you looked back at her. “Im-..this is so hard”
“let me try again?..pleasee?”
studying her zoned out expression. you couldn’t tell what she was thinking. but then a smirk rose upon her freckled pretty face. green eyes back on yours. her right hand let go of your wrist. the ache slowly going away.
“how bout this?..” she spoke. wetting her lips. suddenly the feeling of her back non comforting anymore. she turned around facing you fully. pulling the guitar out of ur shaky arms.
“ellie what are you-“ you tried but she finished. “how about we play a little game?..” u rolled ur eyes.
what game could she possibly wanna play.
u scoffed. “ellie..we’re not 12 what are you saying?” but in the back of ur mind u were so nervous.
Ellie was a lot. well her mouth was. always leaving u in awe..whenever u were around her and your brother.
Like that one time where u were laying in bed. thinking about what ellie meant earlier when u sent a pic of you in a bikini to the gc with ur brother and her in it.
her response being a “yea I would..”
ur brother’s a short “ellie dude..chill fr”
whenever u had tried asking him later that night what she meant. he had brushed u off with a quick “nothing.”
leaving u to wonder in ur own thoughts all night.
but now..it was just you and her. in ur room.
ellie’s voice pulling u out of the daze. “I’m saying that if you—you know mess up..you have to do something for me..” u giggled. “uhh like what exactly?”
does she want like a hug or something?
“give me a kiss..on the lips.” u laughed even louder. “ellie ur not..being serious right?”
was she?
she smirked. “oh I’m being super serious (y/n)..or are you..”
she looked around the room. making a frightened expression.
“..scared?” u rolled ur eyes at her gesture. “uh..no it’s just a little strange..” u softly muttered out. looking everywhere but at her.
taking a glance at ur ring finger. then back up at her.
being met with a flirty smile? oh ellie…
“kay well..don’t make it strange—just think of it as a thank you for showing me how to play ur guitar kiss..you know?” she spoke eyeing the way ur lips were halfway open.
She just wanted to stick her-
“ok whatever.. I’ll do it” crossing ur arms you made eye contact with ellie. the smile on her face never faltering.
“alright..cmere” she grabbed her guitar watching u get situated very closely in front of her. your jeans scratching against hers.
she gave u her guitar. basically pushing it into ur arms.
“what do I do?..” questioning her antics. she smirked. a little pitch in her voice. “play me what I showed u earlier—the first part..small one.”
she’s doing this on purpose. u barely even remember the right strings. u were so focused on her fingers.
“ellie.” “just uhh—do it” her smile faltered.
“geez okay..” u muttered. rolling ur eyes. ur fingers gripped the strings. u slowly strummed trying so desperately to flick the right strings. u were sounding pretty good until..
“wrong string” u stopped.
“ellie that didn’t eve-“ “-it was the wrong string” she spoke quickly her voice never faltered.
“whatever..” u huffed pushing her guitar to the floor. “sooo..” u heard her giggle. “what about that kiss yea?” she really wanted a kiss.
“ellie can’t we just..hug or something?” u pleaded. her eyes boring into urs. “no u agreed to it so you kinda have to” she expressed. shrugging her shoulders. u groaned moving closer to her.
she had that stupid weird smile on her face.
“on the lips?” “yes (y/n)..” u sighed. leaning into her but she moved back. “ah ah ah..on my lap.”
u have got to be kidding me.
“ellie that’s so stupi-“ “—ur making this take way longer than it has to..cmon.” she groaned pulling u on top of her by ur hips.
why were u internally shaking.
“nice seat right” ellie teased. “oh my-shutup” she tapped ur hip with her finger patiently waiting. u sighed. leaning into her but this time she didn’t pull back. the warmth of her lips meeting urs. she groaned loudly but was muttered by your mouth. her grip on your hip tightened.
U were in a daze before u pulled back. lips wet from her warm ones. she patted ur hip.
“see..wasn’t so hard was it?” her raspy voice filling the now quiet room.
u shook ur head. trying to seem unfazed.
“guess not..” u spoke. moving from ur place on her lap. “soo..” “pick it back up we’re not done..” ellie said. her lips were plump.
her neck feeling hot for some reason.
u groaned. she stiffened. feeling rather flushed. thinking of her next demand. she really wanted to play with u.
“If u mess up this time u have to give me a kiss on the neck.. yea?” She tried to sound tall and proud. but the shakiness in her voice was heard.
u scoffed. “ellie cmon..what are you doing..” questioning her antics. “just playing a little game..why are you making this into something it doesn’t have to be”
she’s just playing a game. It’s not that serious. She’s just messing with me like she always does. u thought. your just reading to much into it.
“fine..” “okay then”
..2 minutes later..
“wrong string”
“ur so annoying-” “—what was that?” she grabbed the guitar pulling it away. “nothing..” u sighed. crawling toward her.
I can’t believe I’m doing this. u thought to urself. slowly angling ur head towards her neck..
ur breath hitting the pale flesh making her softly groan out. “don’t wet ur pants now..” u joked. “shutu-“ her raspy voice getting cut off by the feel of ur lips on her lonely neck. the feel of warmth suffocating her. u leaned in even closer. Tongue tracing over her skin. “ohh yea..” she softly spoke.
u inched back. looking at the little mark u left.
“so pretty..” u gazed up at her. a little smile on ur face.
“Imagine what my brothers gonna say” u laughed quietly. “yea imagine..” nervousness in her voice as she spoke. “you okay ellie?..was that to much?”
“no pick it back up.”
u were shocked with her next demand she wanted. “uhh— you have to kiss my stomach..o—on ur belly looking up at me.”
kinky.
it wasn’t surprising when u messed up again. maybe u we’re doing it on purpose. the whole ordeal was awkward and another feeling you couldn’t quiet think of. Ellie smiled down at you with such a heavy grin.
she wouldn’t fully admit it. but the sight of u on ur stomach touching her in such a way. was making her forget this was just a..game?
yes a game. she kept repeating in her head.
the game kept going. Ellie wanting u to kiss random places on her. until it got to the last one.
U were so close to finishing the whole piece. but ur stupid finger messed everything up.
“wrong string.” oh god.
u sat patiently waiting for her demand. but u didn’t think she would be this upfront.
“Put ur hand in my boxers..” ur eyes grew wide. ur fingers dug into ur hand. “el..”
“do it.” her jaw clenched. ur breathing was ragged. frantic. u could feel ur heartbeat out of ur chest..
u slowly approached ellie. how was she so calm?
u moved ur wrist from ur side. moving way to slow for her liking. “cmon unbutton em..s’not that hard” she leaned back on her elbows. giving space between her thighs.
u couldn’t even look at her. just so focused on getting her buttons undone.
once u finally did. Ellie pulled ur wrist under her dark jeans. ur hand was met with..was that..
“You feel that?..now take them off.”
oh this was gonna be a long night.
pics @elliesgalaxy🙏
1K notes · View notes
luveline · 4 months
Note
coworker James au could i request kne where maybe reader starts her period at work unprepared and bleeds through so James gives her his jumper and she's like wtf but also thank you <33
James worries about you reluctantly until you need his help. Then he’s less begrudging. fem, 1k
“Why are you wearing that?” 
James digs through the office fridge for his oat milk. “What’s wrong with it?”
“I’m just wondering.” 
“It's cold out. People wear jumpers when it’s cold.” James grabs the oat milk from the deep recesses of the shared fridge and lets his tricep flex as he stands. Does he think you’ll care? No. But he does it anyway, he doesn’t work out for nothing. You probably can’t tell with the jumper, anyhow. 
He’s expecting you to wrinkle your nose or fake a keck. You look at him funny. 
“What’s wrong? You’re poorly,” he says. 
“I’m not poorly, I just want some toast.” 
“There’s no butter,” James says. No point letting you wait by the fridge. 
You nod dispassionately. “Well, that makes sense.” 
“I have a tangerine in my bag.” 
“Okay, thank you.” 
You’re definitely poorly. You wander out of the kitchen, James assumes to sit back down at your desk while he makes his coffee. He could make you a cup at the same time, it might help you pep up for the rest of the day, but he hasn’t made you any before and why should he start now? Everyone gets sick, it doesn’t make you less of a dick. 
Even as he thinks it, he realises what he’s doing. James Denial Potter, what use is it anymore, pretending he doesn’t like you? You piss him off royally, but disdain? It’s like everyday you’re getting prettier and sweeter and softer in the eyes and James just has to watch. 
He takes his mug to his desk. You’ve already posed his little Smiski figurines to be standing next to each other, though now you’re nowhere near his desk, instead having flopped toward the left side far from his reach with your face in your hand. 
He sighs and grabs his back. The tangerine lays at the bottom near his lunch box, and it begs to be kept, but you’re looking too sick to ignore. It’s cruel to leave you without, at this point. “Here,” he says, popping the orange on the border of your two desks. “Quick, before you pass out.” 
“Thank you,” you mumble. 
It’s sad to watch you eat the orange. Your chewing is morose, your eyes tracking up and down your screen with little hurry. 
He cracks too quickly. “You okay?” he asks. 
“I’m fine.” 
“Do you want a cup of water?” 
“James. I’m fine, I’m just tired.” 
You stand and stretch with a sad moan, joints popping audibly, your arm over your eyes as they do. You let it fall and begin to walk away from the desk nook toward the bathroom, and that’s when James notices your accident. 
He jumps up from his seat, his hand held forward and trying to catch you before you can get too far away. He takes your hand, to your confusion, pulling you back toward him. 
“James, I’m fine,” you say, clearly shy. 
“You’ve bled through.” 
Your face fills with palpable, horrified mortification. “What?” 
“The seat of your trousers,” he says quietly. James can’t confess to caring about discretion when it comes to human function, but he doesn’t think you’d enjoy your private business being shouted across the office. “It’s not a lot.” 
You freeze. 
He lets your hand fall. 
“It’s okay,” he says, frowning at your embarrassed pouting and the glossy shine that’s formed over your eyes. 
“I don’t know what to do,” you confess under your breath. 
It’s so stupid because it’s not vulnerable, you aren’t some wounded animal that needs his help, but he has that awful aching sorriness for you that he can’t bite back. You’re not his friend and he’s sympathetic anyways, he’d never let you feel embarrassed over something you can’t help because he knows exactly how it feels (even if your particular affliction isn’t one he suffers). James nods at you decidedly and leans forward, grabbing the neck of his jumper and pulling it off quickly. 
“Here,” he says, his hair tickling his ears as it falls back into place. He offers the jumper. You don’t take it. 
“James, I might…” 
“No, it’s okay. It’s fine. Just take it and I’ll see if I can sort something out. I’ll get Lily for you. What do you think?” 
“Are you sure?” you ask. 
“Of course I’m sure. Tie that around your waist, yeah?” 
You take the jumper from his hands. “I’m really sorry.”
“Sorry? It’s fine, it happens.” 
“You don’t even like me and you’re always doing things for me,” you say, wobbly. 
James blames the hormones he thinks you might have ravaging your system right now. You’re tired, you clearly didn’t eat enough at breakfast, and you’re on your cycle. It’s not a nice mix of things to experience, and to pile some public humiliation on at work must make crying inevitable. 
He takes your elbow into his hand, bending just so to put your faces on better level. “We don’t always get along,” he says softly, “but that doesn’t mean you have to do things by yourself, without anyone to look out for you. Okay? This isn’t a big deal to me.” He gives your elbow a mild shake. “Okay?” he asks again. 
You sniffle but don’t cry. “Yeah, okay.” 
“Okay. Don’t worry, angel. Those trousers were a choice anyway.” 
You wave him away with a weak laugh. 
James walks one way in search of HR and you slink to the bathroom with his jumper around your waist. And Remus, who’s gaze had been summoned by the rapid departure of you both at the same time, sits gobsmacked at his desk. James had looked not even a millisecond from kissing the frown from your lips, his thumb pressed with tender care to your arm, and you’d just let him do it, the rigid set of your shoulders relaxing the longer he touched you. 
Remus takes his phone from his pocket to text Sirius. Need to talk to you about James
What’s he done? 
Remus sort of thinks his friend might be falling in love. It’s gonna be a total disaster.
930 notes · View notes
madamechrissy · 26 days
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Professor Gojo fks you on his desk
Gojo is 29, student is 22 - lawschool au- explicit sex
Gojo sinks inside your cunt then, and you’re struggling to function, as you are bent over, and he’s so deep, curved tip dragging against your spot until it slams into your cervix. “Satoru!”
“Ah-ah…” He smacks your ass and it echoes in the empty lecture hall, as it jiggles so perfectly for him.
“Professor!” He groans, then starts fucking into you, pulling your pony tail so that your back arches just so, for perfect entry, and his cock wrecks every thought you’ve ever had.
“Such a good girl for me. So- wet fuck… so tight…” He smacks your ass again as he’s thrusting into you harder, faster, and your eyes roll back in your head.
“S’good… Professor .” He can’t hide the little whimper that escapes from his lips, as he’s pumping into you and you feel it, the pressure, when he presses your head down against his desk and owns you. “Oh my fuck-fucking… ah!”
“Baby… you feel too good, oh my-” He breaks off with a groan, leaning forward, fucking you so good drool slides from your stupidly open mouth, and he’s caressing your face as he takes you over. “Cum on me, be such a good student.”
You obey, how can you not, when that pretty pink tip is buried so deep inside, when Satoru’s big hands run across your back, when his balls are smacking your little clit as each thrust makes your ass shake. You fall apart, screaming so much he has to slam a hand on your mouth, and you’re drooling all over it, as your cunt drools all over his cock, spasming.
You can’t even see, you can barely breathe as he works you, as his eyes meet yours, as he huffs and whines, pussy drunk off you. You can see it, feel it, in his jerky movements, as he presses more weight on you, and you’re digging into the desk, shattering around him. Your eyes slam shut as your entire body shakes, until you feel you can’t take anymore.
“Want me to fill you up, put a baby in you right here?” His words make your eyes widen, make your ovaries fucking ache for this man, the thoughts wild. You nod then, eagerly, whining your answer helplessly, a heady mix of his words and his cock wrecking you.
“Please, put a baby in me. Please .” Satoru loses it then, lifting you up, he has to hold your hips as you’re too shaky to stand at all, fucking slowly now, rubbing against your cervix until you’re a mess.
“Gonna fill you up s’good, you’ll feel it all day.” He starts cumming then, hard, and you feel it, hot and spreading in spurts from his pulsing cock, and you lean your head back, for his hungry mouth, as he bites you then, pushing his cum deeper inside you. “Oh my- fucking- b-baby…”
“Toru… it's s'good…” You both mindlessly whine, his strong arms wrapped so tight you can barely breathe, as he kisses your neck, your shoulders, and you’re lapping up every bit of his presence.
“Fucking perfect, baby.” He’s pumping it in you more, but it’s gushing out in little ropes around his cock, along with your arousal, and you hear how soaked you have made him as he’s whimpering more. “S-so sensitive…” His husky voice whines out, and you can barely function.
“I know, I know… m-me too…” You both kiss then, him turning your head and devouring your lips.
From my gojo x reader Take me home Tonight: Masterlist (Satoru eats up being called professor lol)
323 notes · View notes
borathae · 9 months
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"Taehyung shows you a spell which makes your strap function like real cock, then asks you to fuck him with it and he knows exactly how he wants it to happen. He's going to be the one getting pounded, but he'll drive you fucking crazy in process."
❖ Requested by all of you through a poll ❖
Pairing: Vampire!Taehyung x Witch!Reader
Genre: established relationship!AU, Magic!AU, Smut
Warnings: this is nasty porn besties, Dom!Taehyung who takes the dick, whiney sub!Reader, sex magic, her strap functions and looks like real cock, i'll also only refer to her strap as her cock/dick, and i'll use gender neutral nicknames, so i think that male readers can have a blast with this one as well <3, in some way this is a first time for her, blowjob, deep throating, snowballing, cum eating, handjob, frotting, multiple orgasms for both, anal sex (Tae receiving), hole stretching with cock, cowboy position, praise, dirty talk, Tae calls himself her "bitch", strength kink, he pins her down by her wrists, bro he needs to leave me alone fr, the biggest cum kink, a lil bit of spit kink too, scent kink, subby tears of pleasure, creampies, belly bulging, cum leaking, squirting, i'm telling you this is the cum kink story, once again this is so filthy and nasty, this is both gentle but also rough fucking, they're both done afterwards, loving aftercare, they're kinky and in love
Wordcount: 8.1k
a/n: just a reminder that you guys chose this story for his bday. you brought this upon yourselves 😩 enjoy besties ❤
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“How does it feel?”
“I can’t tell a difference. I guess heavier?” you shift from one leg to the other, looking down at your own crotch, “I can feel that there’s something between my legs. It’s tangling.”
“It’s nice, is it not?”
“It’s….it’s different.”
You look up, expecting to meet his eyes, but you don’t. He is mesmerised by your cock and how it sits so heavily between your legs.
It was hard once, made out of silicone with no possible chance of softening. And then you spoke the magic words. The words he showed you and practiced with you until they finally worked. And oh how they worked. Your once hard, unmoving silicone dick softened and melted with your body until it was part of you. Now made out of flesh and with feeling in it. The colour doesn’t quite match your skin tone because the dildo was a few shades warmer than your real skin, but it somehow makes it look even sexier. Part of you for one night, so perfectly in place even if it was once impossible to fit. It is so wonderfully arousing to Taehyung.
“Darling?”
“Mhm?” he lifts his head and with it, his eyes.
“You stared.”
“Because I want you”, he says and draws closer. His big hand comes to touch your waist, his eyes race over your features obsessively. His pupils are dilated, “how is it for you? Truthfully.”
“Weird?” you say and chuckle shyly, “I can’t decide yet. I feel a weight between my legs, it’s tugging down a little. I never felt like this before.”
He lowers his lids playfully, whispering his next words.
“Shall I take the weight off of you?”
Your stomach tingles, your hands come to touch his bared chest. Clothes aren’t necessary anymore. You had to undress for the spell naturally and Taehyung never wore more than just some jockstraps. Not to forget the golden necklaces around his neck and the emerald earrings adorning his ears. He looks so sexy and his words make you want him even more.
“Mhm darling? I can do it for you, carry the heavy burden in your stead”, he offers, drawing tingling circles on your waist with just his fingertips.
“How would you do it?” you ask for the sole reason of wanting him to show you.
“Can I show you?” he asks, looking deep into your eyes.
“Yes”, you allow him, feeling mesmerized by him.
The deep connection remains as Taehyung lets his right hand glide down your body until he can let it disappear between your legs. He cups your heavy balls and soft cock. His hand is so big that all of it fits inside his palm.
Warmth.
You let out a shaky gasp, closing your fingers on his chest in a needy grasp. You can actually feel his touch. It is right there, between your legs, cradling what once wasn’t part of you, but what now feels so achingly needy for more.
Taehyung bounces your heaviness in his palm gently.
“Like this”, he whispers.
“Tae, this is…oh god…”
He needs to hold back right now. He dreamt of holding your cock ever since your magic was discovered. It is difficult to go slow right now because all he craves is to fuck you senseless. But he knows better. He knows that this is new to you, that you never experienced such sensations before and that every step taken too quickly could be overwhelming for you.
So he cradles you, bouncing you in his safe hand while his left hand caresses your waist. You keep tensing your abs. He feels them tighten under his thumb each time he brushes it over them.
“Does this lessen the weight?” he asks in a whisper.
“Fuck, it just make it worse”, you breathe out as you speak, resulting in your words to swirl over his skin. Your breath smells minty. Taehyung matches with you.
“It does? Where is it worst?” he asks and opens his palm to reveal your cock to him. He keeps his hand under it, carrying it safely so he could trace it with his left hand. His fingertips brush over your balls first, outlining them, “there?”
You throb softly, growing just a little in his palm.
“Tae, this is…” you get out and exhale shakily, looking down. There is so much heat rushing to your groin. You genuinely never felt so much fucking heat between your legs. It’s insane and it’s somehow getting more and more, the longer he is tracing your cock.
“Or is it there?” he asks, dancing his finger up your shaft.
More warmth. So much warmth. How easy is it to get so heated up? Why is it so easy? He barely did anything and you already feel like burning up. 
“Or maybe there?” he asks and presses his finger against your tip to draw circles on it.
“Woah”, you gasp, flinching away from him so harshly you actually slip out of his hold.
He stares. You stare. The heat between your legs throbs. It throbs so bad that it is almost painful. With every throb the weight seems to grow and at the same time get less. The tug downwards decreases while the heaviness of your balls somehow gets more. It is so impossible to describe.
You look down. You are hard. The view is familiar to you because you had a lot of hard dick in front of you already, but tonight is different. Tonight it is truly connected to you. Your skin blends into that of your erection and you know for a fucking fact that the blood you feel throbbing inside it, is your very own.
“Taehyung, this is fucking insane”, you let out, shaking your head in disbelief.
“I know and it is so bloody arousing”, he says and closes the distance between you and him until he can trap your hard cock between your bodies. You feel how he bends it up and how it gets squished between your tummy and his crotch. His clothed cock presses against your bared one, sharing warmth. The fabric of his jockstrap is soft and rough at the same time.
“Wait Tae, wait”, you try to flee again because this is actual insanity, but Taehyung doesn’t let you. He keeps you pinned to him with his hands on your hips, silencing your worrying by kissing your neck. You heart flutters, but you barely feel it because all you can concentrate on is the heavy throbbing between your legs each time his lips touch your skin.
“Holy fuck Tae, please just”, you gasp and tremble, pushing at his chest softly, “just give me a second, please.”
“I am”, he promises you and takes a step back, “talk to me”, he says, holding your hands. He caresses your knuckles with his thumb, looking at you with adorning eyes.
“I”, you squeak out and stumble back, “I need to just take a moment. This is a lot. Holy fuck.”
“Hey, I’m here, hey”, he gasps and holds your hands tighter to prevent you from falling, “sit down, it’s safer to sit”, he offers and lifts you atop his bed. It is a very high bed and because he sat you down quite far up the mattress, it results in your feet tangling in the air. He gets between your legs, towering over you just enough that you have to tilt your head to make eye contact.
“Talk to me. Is it not your taste?” he asks, caressing your upper arms slowly. His eyes race between yours, looking so utterly attentive.
“It’s just….a lot. I don’t know. I feel so fucking hot between my legs. Is that normal? What if the spell didn’t work correctly? I feel every throb, Tae. It’s so hot”, you say with serious eyes.
Taehyung’s gaze softens. He chuckles fondly.
“Why are you laughing? I’m serious, Tae.”
“I know, gosh I know. Please forgive me”, he says between giggles, cupping your cheeks to caress them gently, “it is just that…my darling, this is how an erection feels like. You are simply horny.”
“But…but it’s so hot. Like, so hot.”
“I am aware.”
“That’s normal?”
He nods his head.
“You feel like this every time you get horny?”
“Yes.”
“Tae.”
“Why?”
“This is awful, oh my god, I might actually burst.”
Taehyung laughs, scrunching his nose up as he does.
“Don’t laugh, I’m actually suffering.”
“Please forgive me, but you are just so adorable”, he says.
You huff out air, frowning at him with a pout. His gaze softens, his hands brush down your arms soothingly.
“I can make it better”, he offers.
“You can?” you whisper, feeling flutters in your stomach.
“I can”, he breathes and brushes his fingers over your cockhead. Just a feather light touch, but it still felt intense to you.
You moan, rolling your hips up to chase him. Another touch never comes, even more intense heat remains.
“Just tell me that you want to continue this and I will”, he adds.
“I do”, you say and add a word you never meant more than right now, “please.”
His lips curl into a proud smirk, his eyes lower playfully.
“Get on the bed, rest back against it”, he orders.
You follow instantly, pulling your legs up on the mattress so you can move to the middle of the bed and rest back into the heap of soft pillows. They engulf you, allowing you to be comfortable and still sit up enough that you have a view of your lower body. Taehyung joins you on the bed, kneeling down next to you.
He guides his hand down your torso, tracing your inner thigh next. You throb, sneaking a glance at him to see if he also noticed. He meets your eyes.
“Needy?” he asks.
“Did you see that?”
“I did.”
“Tae, it’s”, you shift impatiently, “it’s so hot.”
“I know darling, I know”, he says and wraps his fingers around the base of your cock, “and so heavy as well. Darling, you are so heavy in my hand.”
“Don’t tease me. Please”, you wanted to order him, but it only comes out as a beg. Of course it does. You are so madly horny right now. 
Taehyung was the one to introduce you to the idea of experimenting with sex spells. For now, you have already perfected a spell which enchants ropes to make it impossible for even vampires to break through them. Another spell controls his orgasms and make it impossible for him to climax without your magical allowance. Your newest spell is this one right here and it is definitely messing with your sanity the most. You are so horny that you can barely even think. 
“Please…”
“Please what, darling?” Taehyung teases, tickling your inner thigh gently. 
“Do something please.” 
“Something? Like this?” he asks and lowers himself to your cock, flicking his tongue over your tip gently.
You flinch again.
“Holy fuck.”
“How was that?”
“Wet. Holy fuck.”
“Yes, tongues tend to be wet”, he is teasing. Of course he is. 
“Tae, please”, you whine, wiggling your legs, “I can’t take your attitude right now. Please.”
He chuckles, “adorable”, he whispers before swirling his tongue over your tip. Once. Twice. 
“Tae, oh god. This is insane, seriously.”
“You taste so good, darling”, he whispers.
“I can feel every fucking word you speak. Holy fuck.”
“You’re so needy. It’s adorable.”
“Tae. Holy fuck.”
He chuckles, wrapping his lips around you.He takes only your tip inside and gives it one suck, then lets it go with a bop of his lips. He rubs them against your tip, giving you small licks.
“Holy fuck”, you gasp, bucking your hips in sync with your fingers tangling in his hair.
Taehyung moves his head with it, preventing your cock from slipping into his mouth. He chuckles. The vibrations force you to squeeze your eyes shut in a full face scrunch.
“Tae, what the fuck. What the…actual..f-fuck.”
He slips off of you again, laughing deeply.
“I haven’t even done anything yet.”
“Oh god…”
“You are adorable”, he says fondly and climbs between your legs. He lies down on his tummy, draping his arms over your thighs so he could support himself on his elbows and then he takes your cock between his fingers again. He moves closer, connecting his lips with your balls by nuzzling his entire lower face between your legs. He purrs deliciously, breathing in your sensual musk as his hungry lips suck on the sensitive skin of your balls.
“Holy fuck.”
You try to say something else. Seriously, you do. But you can’t think of any other words. He barely hasn’t done anything yet and you are already too dumb to speak.
His purrs vibrate against your skin. It feels electric and goes so deep, you swear you can feel it in your bones. His lips are soft and wet from his drool. His tongue is even wetter and feels ten degrees hotter on your skin. This is impossible to handle and so you squeeze your thighs around his head, grasping his lower arms in a desperate plea for help.
“Mhhm darling”, Taehyung comes up for air, “you smell like sex. Truly, I want to devour you.”
“Taeee”, you whine, pulling a face of devastation. 
He moans hungrily, dragging his lips up the thick vein on the underside of your cock until he has your frenulum under them. He purrs, opening his mouth to stick out his tongue and grind the flat of it against it.
“Tae”, you whimper, grabbing strands of his ebony hair. You know how his tongue feels. You know how wet and hot it is against your bundle of nerves and yet the knowledge still doesn’t make it easier right now. You should know how good he feels, but you still can’t believe this is happening. This feels so much different than on other nights. This starts off on your tip like fire and crawls down your entire length until it spreads through your legs.  
Taehyung loves how your thighs shake under his arms and how hard you tug on his hair. His scalp stings, motivating him to ruin you even more. You should know how it is to be sucked off. You deserve it. You deserve to have your balls worshipped until they are dripping in saliva, you deserve to have your frenulum licked until it is swollen and you deserve to have your every inch fucked by tight throat until you are throbbing painfully. Taehyung wants to make sure that you experience everything because everything is what you deserve.
He sticks out his tongue further and opens up farther, letting your cock sink into his mouth. He moans as he swallows you, basking in the high-pitched squeaks you let out. You begin chanting in whispers.
“Oh god, oh god, oh god.”
Deeper. Your chants grow in pitch, as they do in volume, the tension on his hair increases. Taehyung moans. His lips meet your groin, his throat bulges from your cock.
“Oh g-god Tae”, you yelp and thrust your hips up as the unfamiliar sensation throws you over the edge.
Taehyung knew that it would happen. Of course it would. Your pretty virgin cock was never sucked off before, let alone was allowed to rest snug in a tight throat. Of course you would climax instantly. He moans deeper just to make it more intense for you, keeping your writhing body down with minimal effort. You might rip his hair out if you continue tugging, but he doesn’t mind. The pain is goddamn glorious to experience.
“Tae!” you can’t stop almost screaming his name, arching your back over and over as fiery pleasure throbs in your cock. Your tip feels on fire, your shaft is charged in painful electricity and your balls are convulsing so tightly that they hurt. Your legs are also useless, weak sticks of shaking muscles right now. This orgasm wasn’t planned, it wasn’t expected and it makes it feel all the more unbearable.
Taehyung slips off your cock the moment it begins to die down. Of course he would know when to stop. He gives you no time to catch your breath as he places his hand on the back of your neck and pulls you into a tongue kiss. You can’t reciprocate it at first, gurgling desperately as he fills your mouth with your own cum. It tastes slightly salty with a faint bitter note at the back of your throat. This isn’t how he tastes when he normally kisses you after head. This is more intense and leaves you feeling droopy. Taehyung licks into your mouth, scooping out the cum he fed you just so he can swallow it with needy moans. He can’t catch everything, resulting in your chins to get messy and sticky as you desperately try to kiss him back.
It gets easy until it suddenly doesn’t because he decides to wrap his hand around your cock and jerk you off quickly. You bite down on his lip to the point where you feel it break. His spit burns on your tongue as his blood mixes with it. He breaks away, looking at you with slightly panicky eyes.
“You bit me”, he whispers. His lips is already healed again, but the knowledge of what he just fed you remains. Will you end it now?
“Tae”, you beg and pull him back into a kiss.
He purrs, deepening his grip on your head in sync with his hand speeding up around your cock. He feels dizzy at the realisation that you don’t care about the mishap. He meets your tongue and twists his fist around your cockhead.
And the kiss breaks again. Of course it does.
“Oh god”, you whimper, sitting up straight because the sensation overwhelms you.
“How is that?” he asks.
“It hurts.”
“Hurts? Need me to stop?”
You shake your head, “sensitive”, you squeak and sob softly, “Tae please.”
“You’re okay. I know your cock is sensitive. Of course it is. Your pretty untouched cock can barely handle it, but it’s okay. I know what I’m doing”, he talks you through the handjob, keeping you with him with his hand on the back of your head. The only way you could look away is by closing your eyes, but you don’t want to. You want to keep looking up at him as he jerks you off. It feels so good. You are so sensitive from your surprise orgasm that it hurts so fucking bad and yet you don’t want it to stop because there are electric tingles deep, deep down you crave to have at the very surface of your cock.
“Do you feel it? Mhm? Can you feel how good I can handle cock?” he taunts and digs the pad of his thumb into your weeping slit. A stinging stretch radiates from it, pressure so intense you wonder if he is bursting your urinary tract is shooting all the way down to your balls.
You widen your eyes, squeaking for help. He gives it to you gently. Lovingly. Softly. He slips his thumb out of your slit again, massaging it in circular motions until the sting ceases to exist.
“That’s better, right?” he speaks deeply, caressing the nape of your neck with his thumb.
“Tae”, you spill tears, grasping his pecs desperately, “it feels so good.”
“I know it does. Of course it does. You’ve got such a sensitive little cock.”
“Sensitive”, you agree, squeaking helplessly as he begins twisting his hand around your cockhead again. You writhe on the sheets, trying to lie down but he keeps you with him. He tightens his grip on your head, giving you a warning flicker of his eyes.
“So sensitive, I know. So, so sensitive”, his voice is sweet even when his grip is rough, “it will pass. Trust me, it will pass.”
“I, I think I h-have to pee”, you stutter.
“That’s okay. Just let it out if you need to”, he reassures you, “leaking cocks are my favourite.”
“Tae please stop.”
He slows down his hand, cupping your balls instead to play with them.
“Sorry. Sorry, I’m sorry”, you stutter as you try to catch your breath.
“It’s okay. You’re doing so well, I’m so proud of you”, he soothes you, cradling your cheek in his big hand, “I’m sorry, I know I was a little rough right now. Especially after your first ever orgasm, I know this must have been a lot right now.”
“Yeah, sorry”, you hiccup and shudder, “Tae, kisses please.”
He smiles fondly and pulls you into a kiss. A gentle one for a change. It tastes of love and adoration. His lips guide yours in slow movements, his tongue caresses yours in a tender dance.
Now without support at the back of your head, your body finally gives up on you. You fall back into the pillows, dragging Taehyung right with you. He doesn’t break the kiss, lifting and moving your body until you can comfortable lie on your back and he can rest on top of you. He is between your legs, pressing his clothed crotch against yours.
He doesn’t like that he does. The fabric is too thick of a barrier. He reaches down with one hand and rips the small piece of clothing off his body, throwing it on the floor mindlessly. His cock, hard and wet from slick comes into contact with yours. He rolls his hips slowly, grinding it against yours repeatedly.
The kiss breaks again, just like it has happened with every new sensation he lets you experience. Taehyung isn’t angry that it does, on the contrary he loves it because he can take in the utter look of shock on your face and the intense look of pleasure following right after.
“Can you feel that?” he asks slightly out of breath.
You nod your head, dimpling his shoulders from grabbing them so tightly.
“I’m so hard for you, darling. Feel it”, he whispers and angles his hips so he could grind his cockhead against your frenulum.
“Tae”, you whimper and spill tears.
“Our cocks are melting, darling. We’re so close this way.”
“Tae…”
You squeeze your eyes shut and arch your back. He is so wet. His tip is so soft. The way he is grinding on you feels so incredibly good.
“It feels wonderful for me”, he whispers, “darling, we’re so close. So immensely close”, he adds and deepens the connection by wrapping his long fingers around both your cocks. He presses them together, pumping them in a slow rhythm. It not only gives you the sensation of a handjob, but also grinds your cocks together. The combination of both sensations is unbearable to you. You reach down, grabbing his wrist desperately.
“Please Tae”, you beg shakily.
He slows down gradually until he stops completely. He keeps a hold on your cocks, cradling your pressed together tips in his palm.
“Too much again?��
“I’m so sensitive. I’m sorry”, you get out, whimpering in embarrassment.
“It’s okay. I’m so proud of you”, he calms you down, wiping your tears and kissing your forehead, “I think we are done with foreplay, mhm?”
“Foreplay?”
“Mhm yes”, he smiles against your forehead, “I can’t have you climaxing too many times already. One was enough. The next I want to take up my ass.”
“Oh god”, you croak, writhing on the sheets. It shifts your cock in his hand, sending electricity through your legs. Holy shit, his cock is so close to yours. The grinding is already mind-blowing, but the knowledge of how close he is, drives you even deeper into ruin, “oh god, Tae.”
“Is this something you want to give me, darling?”
You nod your head vigorously.
“You do?”
“Y-yes.”
“Yes? So I can quickly get the lube to make it easier for me?”
You nod your head.
“I love you”, he whispers and kisses your lips, “oh, I want to worship you.”
He leaves you alone on the bed for nothing but a few seconds, returning to you just as your arms have found enough strength to sit yourself up. You look at your own cock and how incredibly hard it is between your legs. It is glistening wet, aching to be touched again.
Taehyung climbs onto your lap, stealing a giggly kiss from you before sitting up. The bottle of lube is between his fingers, he is smiling down at you.
“Are you ready?”
“You didn’t stretch.”
“I’ll manage.”
“But…won’t it hurt?”
“Trust me”, he assures you and lifts his hips so he could shimmy right above your cock. He spreads a thick layer of lube all over your cock, using the access to circle his hole with it. You can’t stop staring, breathing quickly because he keeps stealing your breath. He is seconds away from taking your cock unprepared and there is no ounce of nervousness on his features. He meets your eyes, giving you a sweet smile.
“Nervous?” he asks.
“A little.”
“Don’t be. It will feel so good”, he says and sinks down.
“Holy. Fuck”, you gasp, sitting up in shock.
Taehyung pushes you down again, smiling at you with sparkling eyes.
“Holyfuck”, you get out, arching your back even if he is holding you down.
“Amazing, isn’t it?”
“Yes”, you whimper and grab his wrists. You bottom out, curling your toes as your back once again leaves the sheets. Your eyes roll back and close sensually, “holy fuck.”
“Yeah, right”, he agrees and begins shifting his hips on you back and forth. Slowly because he knows how sensitive virgin dick can be. 
“Tae! Ah.”
“I know. This is amazing, isn’t it?”
“I’m gonna cum, ah.”
“If you have to, do it. I won’t stop afterwards however”, he says.
“Please stop, please stop for a moment, please”, you beg, bruising his thighs as you try to stop him this way.
Taehyung stills his movements, caressing the sides of your neck to soothe you. Your pulse is racing under his fingertips.
“How are you feeling?” he asks.
“It’s so much”, you croak and peel your eyes open. You gulp, pulling a face of devastation, “I can feel it. Tae, I can feel your ass.” 
“I know”, he says, wiggling just a little to shift your cock in him. He loves the sensation because it gives his hole the possibility of getting used to the stretch.
“I wanted to feel this for years”, you confess with trembling lips as the emotions begin to overwhelm you, “this was a dream of mine. Tae, I-”, your voice cuts off because you have to whimper.
“I know, oh I know”, he wipes the trembles away by cupping your cheeks and kissing your lips. He smiles into the kiss, smiling brighter when he feels your lips curl into a smile as well. 
“I’m so happy”, you whisper shakily into the kiss, grasping the nape of his neck to keep him close.
“I’m happy too, my darling”, he whispers and moans gently, “I feel so stuffed with you. You’re so big.”
“Oh god, Tae this is driving me insane. I can feel you clench. Holy fuck, you’re so hot inside.”
“I’m burning for you”, he rasps and rocks back and forth.
“Tae”, you squeak out quietly.
“Does this feel nice for you?”
“Ye-yeah”, your voice trembles as you speak because all of this is just a little overwhelming to handle.
“It feels nice for me as well”, he sighs and sits up. Your fingers glide from his neck, lying weakly on the pillow. He places his hands on your tummy, using the support to rock back and forth. 
Your eyes close in a roll again, your lips part in needy moans. You grip his thighs, dimpling them desperately. His name is the only word you get out between all your sounds. It tastes saccharine on your tongue.
“I’m so stuffed. Oh so stuffed”, he sighs, lowering his eyes sensually. Taking it slow. This is what he is doing. You need it. He needs it as well. Taehyung took cock without preparation many times before. He also took cocks way bigger than yours, so he is used to a way more painful stretch than he feels right now. It is still very nice to get used to being opened up with slow movements. Because he isn’t bouncing on you, it also means that he is constantly stretching himself. He loves it so much that his toes curl each time he feels your length graze against his prostate.
But enough about him. You are barely holding on. It is already way too arousing to fuck his ass on normal days. You always imagined it to feel warm, but that was wrong. It is burning hot and so tight that it feels as if his ass was jerking you off. His unstretched rim squeezes around your base, forcing your cock to stay so much harder. His walls are so soft and wet. You already thought that his mouth was soft, but this is taking the fucking crown. 
“I think I can’t hold back”, you gasp out, writhing on the sheets.
“It’s alright. Don’t hold back”, he encourages you, staring at your face with obsession in his eyes. You are so beautiful when pleasure controls you. He can’t get enough of you.
“Tae, too much”, you whimper.
“I know, so sensitive. It’s alright, fill my ass with your climax, darling. I’m made for it.” 
“Tae ah god”, you gasp and tense up. It starts off in your tip and shoots down your shaft before it forces your balls to tense and begin throbbing. You feel it squirting out of you. It feels so good. Like one big relief of a fiery burden. His insides get wet and sticky. Hotter as well. Of course he does, you’re climaxing so fucking hot. Of course you warm him up with it. All of it just makes you climax that much harder.
“Yes. Fill me up. Ah darling”, Taehyung growls, rocking his hips on you needily, “give me everything, ah”, he moans and chases it with bounces on your cock. The feeling of being marked as yours is what finally set him off. Your cum sticking to his walls is what makes it impossible to behave any longer. 
He drags his hips up and drops down on you, forcing a guttural grunt out of you. You try to sit up again, grabbing his waist and staring up at him with widened eyes. The utter shock is obvious in them.
He pushes you back into the sheets, smiling down at you with mischief in his eyes. He lifts his hips, drops them, repeats it. Over and over until you realise he is getting used to a rhythm and you have to get used to it with him.
It burns. Your cock is genuinely only staying hard because his tight rim is forcing it to. You claw at his waist, breaking skin but it’s the only way to handle the overstimulation.
You try to say his name but it only comes out as a gurgled, “-ae nngn.” 
“Breathe. That’s what I always do. Breathe.” 
You try to do what he says. It does help a little. Your legs still stay useless however, shaking against your will as he picks up speed gradually. The overstimulation hurts so much more than on other days. You want to flee from it as much as you chase it with weak movements.
“Breathe. Keep breathing. Just keep fucking breathing”, Taehyung lulls and circles his hips as he sinks down. 
“Holy fuck, urgh fuck”, you get out, writhing helplessly because he just doesn’t stop. He continues dancing his hips on you, keeping your cock so, so hard for him, “please oh god”, you beg him, sitting up again because your body reacts like this instinctively.
Taehyung stops you with a strong hold around your wrists. He pushes you back down and pins your wrists down into the ruffled sheets just a little above your head, putting some of his weight on them.
“Stop sitting up, I’m not done with this”, he tells you and slams his hips down on you. Skin slaps against skin. Your cock gets fucked so hard by his tight ass. 
“Tae”, you gasp loudly, writhing in his strong hold in an attempt to flee him. This is too much. You can’t stop fucking leaking and his ass is so fucking tight that each time you bottom out, your cock feels like it might burst from the squeeze.
“Don’t flee this”, he speaks calmly. As if he wasn’t in the process of ruining you, “take it. I know you can do it.”
“Holy fuck, argh”, you arch your back, throw your head back, gasp for fucking air.
Taehyung watches with blown-out pupils as your mouth opens and your tongue curls back in a tortured moan. He slides his hands to your palms and intertwines his fingers with you. You squeeze him back instantly, shaking and trembling whilst at the same time using so much strength that it borders painful.
“Yes that’s better. Hold my hands”, he growls and speeds up.
“Tae please”, you yelp, hitting your head on the sheets repeatedly as you try to take the ride he gives you. Holy fuck your cock is burning up. It hurts so much and yet you don’t want it to stop, “ple-please”, you sob, contorting your face in agony.
“I’m not done, darling. I’m not done”, Taehyung tells you, “I want to use you like a perfect fucking sexdoll.”
“Fuck. Oh fuck, oh god fuck. Ah fuck”, you chant, barely registering his words because all that consumes you is the burning of your cock and the never ending pleasure coursing through your body. Your legs are jello, your muscles can’t work except for uncontrollable shaking he forces out of them each time he slams his bubble butt down on you.
“Take a deep breath for me.”
You try to. You really, really do but you can’t. He knocks the air out of you. Just as he squeezes even the last droplet of desperation from your burning cock.
“Breathe darling, breathe”, he growls and squeezes his hole on you. He moans deeply, basking in your high-pitched mewl of pained pleasure, “your cock is so big. My hole’s so fucking stuffed with you.”
“I can’t”, you croak and sob, arching your back as he forces uncontrollable shakes out of you, “Tae I’m fucking serious, I can’t do this anymore”, you sob, rolling your hips up desperately.
Taehyung doesn’t look at you. Taehyung keeps his head thrown back and rolls his hips as he takes your cock as deep as he can. He aches for you to go so much deeper than you do. He wants to feel it poke the furthest walls of his intestines, wants it truly filling him out.  
“Colour?” he asks you.
“I don’t know anymore”, you get out, writhing under him. You are blurry. Everything is dizzy. Your brain can’t speak. Your eyes can’t hear.
Taehyung rolls his head to front and stops his hips. He cradles your cheeks, wiping away the heavy streak of tears. The touch brings comfort, calming down some of the shaking.
“Look at me”, he says softly.
You peel your eyes open. He is blurry in your vision. A glowing aura surrounds him because you see him double. Or maybe it is because is currently your fucking god. The one who controls your body and whose name you only know how to speak. You grab his wrists, whimpering his name so weakly that it only comes out as squeaks.
“Do you want to stop this?” he asks and traces your lips. They are wet from drool. He smears it all over your skin as he goes to caress your cheek again. Neither of your care.
“Tae”, you whimper and reach for him. You hook your fingers behind his neck and pull him down.
He slams his hand into the pillow beside your head in the last moment, smiling fondly as he gets your tongue wiggling its way over his lower face as you try to kiss him. He chuckles and shows your tongue its destiny by sucking it between his lips and therefore engaging you in a sloppy tongue kiss. You whimper and mewl, pulling him closer, closer, closer. He lets you, kissing you back and sharing way too much fucking saliva with you. He loves it, moaning into you and getting your moans in return.
He keeps his hips still at first. It is clear that all you need is a kiss, that you don’t want to end this yet but you still couldn’t take another bounce. He knows that feeling. He knows how it is to be ridden into a state of complete uselessness and how addicting it is. He knows how hard it is to truly want to stop this because despite the agonizing burn of your cock, the fuck is just way too good to stop it. And he knows that despite all of this obsessive, sick desire your body is weaker than the spirit, that breaks are necessary even if you don’t want them. Taehyung knows those feelings. He knows exactly in what kind of state you find yourself in right now and because he does, he also knows exactly when he is allowed to start moving again.
When you twist his hair with both hands, when your hips wiggle under him and your moans become so much more desperate than before. Taehyung knows and he is there to give it to you so hard.
He starts off slowly, drawing circles with his hips until you notice what is happening and break the kiss to gasp. You share the same air, staring at each other with droopy eyes. At least you do, Taehyung is having a piercing gaze on you, pinning you down with dark siren eyes.
“I’m so stuffed with cock”, he rasps and takes your right hand to put it on his stomach. He presses down, letting you feel how the pressure squishes your cum around. His stomach grumbles and gurgles as your fingers squeeze your cum down and your cock fucks it into him again, “and your cum”, he adds in a breathy moan, “I’m so filled with your cum that it gets hard to keep inside. Do you feel it?”
This is too much. It is already a lot to have him ride your burning cock, but to feel how stuffed with cum he is, is too much.
“Again”, you get out and roll your eyes back without truly bothering to close them. It already feel intense, but what truly makes it unbearable is the fact that Taehyung squeezes your hand closer to his stomach and therefore makes you feel how your cum shoots up his intestines. Maybe this is why it burned so much. Maybe this is why you were so breathless. Because he has been dragging an orgasm to the surface. Again. Again. Again. How many times? How many times is he going to circle and roll his hips as your cock shoots up his tight ass? You can’t find an answer but you know that it doesn’t get easier to bear. On the contrary. Your first orgasm down his throat was short and fiery, your second up his ass was warm and dragged out, this one is intense and fucking addicting. You should want him to stop because your cock is begging you for a break, but you don’t want to. It hurts and you want fucking more, moaning in pained ecstasy as your heavy cock empties itself inside his tight, textured walls.
Taehyung moans with you, throwing his head back in ecstasy because nothing beats getting creampied by you. Over and over again. It doesn’t lose its spark. On the contrary, the more you climax, the fuller he feels. Fuck, the spell makes you so packed with it. No matter how many times you climax, the amount of cum doesn’t get less. Taehyung can feel it fill his stomach and he gets off on it so fucking good that he keeps leaking onto your stomach.
He pushes your wrists together and holds them down with his right hand so he can press his left hand over yours on his stomach. It is bulging. Not only from your cock, but also from being filled with cum.
“I’m so stuffed with you”, he moans loudly, arching his back, “my stomach’s bursting from cum.”
“Tae please, I can’t. Ah!”
“Darling”, he moans, dropping to his elbow so he could moan into your ears, “I’m your fucking bitch”, he mewls and orgasms around your cock.
He becomes unbearably tight, throbbing and pulsating around your cock and making it so much harder to function.
“Tae please. Oh god you are so tight, please. Ah! Tae!” you beg and sob loudly, grasping his tensed biceps because it is all you can handle.
“This is the last one. Promise. Please just fill me up with everything”, he begs and orders at the same time, rutting against you as his ass overflows with your cum shots. His current high ruins him. He didn’t even know how much pressure was in his prostate until your squirting cock broke him. He can barely breathe, pushing your cock out against his will because he is tightening so fucking hard. It only makes him fuck back so much harder and quicker, needing to stay stuffed like lungs need air.
And so you are destined to shake, writhe and beg until Taehyung milked you dry. Well, as dry as you can get because even after your orgasm, you swear you could probably cum again. Not that you want to, but you swear that you could.
You drop your hand from his stomach and sob his name.
Taehyung knows that it is over, that your cock throbbed as much as it can and that you aren’t lost in another high anymore. He also knows exactly how to move to get you to the highest peak of pleasure. He knows because he has done it a million times before. He peels himself off of you, sitting up straight which shifts your cock deeper again. It presses against his abdominal wall, forcing it to stick out where your burning tip lies. He is so filled with cum that sitting up like this actually hurts in his stomach. He is so stuffed and there is no way for it all to go. He tenses up involuntarily, easing the pressure by lifting his hips just enough that he has your cock halfway inside.
His hole flutters and relaxes against his will, releasing spurts of your cum in wet, sinful sounds.
“I’m so stuffed”, he whimpers and for the first time tonight, he sounds so utterly submissive. He rests his hands on your waist, using it for support as he tries to sink down on you again. His hole squelches and squirts more cum, enabling your cock to fill him up without any sort of friction.
You bottom out. The pressure returns. Taehyung mewls your name. You sob his name.
“I’m so stuffed”, he says again because this is all he can really tell you, “please can you go a little longer? Please one more time. I need it one more time.”
“I don’t know”, you get out, writhing between his fingers.
“One more time, I’ll be gentle. Like this”, he begs and bounces on your cock in a slow rhythm.
“Tae”, you mewl, twisting the sheets.
You are ruined. He is ruined. It is obvious to both of you that the right thing to do right now would be to stop this, but you can’t. Your cock is on fire, how he is going to milk you again is a mystery to you but you know that he will. Taehyung’s stomach feels like bursting and is convulsing constantly in a weak attempt to get him to relieve himself of the pressure, how he is going to fit more of your cum inside is a mystery to him but he wants it so bad. He fucked you delirious and in the process ruined himself as well. He needs to have one more.
“Tae, I have to- it, it feels like pee a-again.”
“You just want to squirt. It’s okay, don’t fight it”, he assures you, adding the most desperate of “please”.
“No. No, this doesn’t f-feel like squirt, Tae ah.”
“It’s okay. It’s okay no matter what it is.”
“I can’t stop it.”
“Yes, please.”
“Tae, oh god”, you croak and then the pressure in your lower stomach bursts for the last time. You relieve yourself inside him in spurts of liquid, translucent cum. It feels so good. No words on earth could ever be enough to describe how good it feels to let all this pressure just explode.
“Thank you”, Taehyung keens and arches his back. He stills completely, “oh god, you’re making me squirt too”, he mewls and releases all over your torso in hot spurts of translucent goodness.
Taehyung is a gentleman. He likes cleanliness and is never dirty. So why. Why is it that whenever you and he fuck, you end up so fucking dirty and disgusting? Truly it is a phenomenon unable to be explained and a sensation so addicting you wish to never stop experiencing it. 
He drops to his elbows, rocking his hips gently so you could share in the afterglow. You finally begin feeling the fire die down in your cock. This must be how softening feels like. 
“Tae”, you whimper.
“I love you”, Taehyung squeaks out, trembling on you.
“I love you too”, you sob, hugging him tightly, “oh god. Oh god what just happened?”
“I know, I can’t hold myself for long.”
“It’s okay, just drop.”
Taehyung trembles and drops down onto you, blanketing you under his weight. His hole pulsates rhythmically as his orgasm dies down slowly. You continue throbbing as you finally begin softening.
“You did so well”, Taehyung whispers, hugging you against him, “I’m so proud of you, my sweetest darling.”
“Tae, I’m happy.”
“I’m happy too, my darling. So happy”, he says and then silence surrounds you.
You couldn’t possibly talk more. You are done for. Taehyung feels the same. It’s always like this with you and him. You get lost in the sex you are having and it ends up ruining both of you to the point of non-verbal cuddles and fights for air.
Taehyung recovers quicker than you, sitting up slowly. Your arms glide from his body and just kind of drop into the sheets. You don’t fix them, letting them lie where they first land. Your eyes race between the others’. His hair is messy, hanging into his features. He smiles. You retort it weakly.
“How was that for your first time?” he asks.
“You’re going to kill me one day”, you whisper in a croaky voice.
He chuckles, “does this mean that you liked it?”
You nod your head, rolling it to the side afterwards. You close your eyes in flutters.
“I’m fucking dead, holy fuck this actually just happened.”
“Mhm yes, it really did”, he snickers, “do you want to see something very sexy?”
“Yeah, as long as you’re not going to touch my cock again. It might fall off you do.”
“No”, he laughs, “no, I promise I won’t. Look at my butt.”
“Alright?”
You shift your eyes to it. He lifts himself off your cock. It flops onto your stomach weakly. He positions himself above it and then seems to relax his muscles. What looks like liters of cum runs out of him in a steady stream.
“Oh god”, you croak, propping yourself up on your elbow.
“It doesn’t stop”, Taehyung says and giggles, pressing his hand against his stomach to squeeze out even more of it. It is running down on each side of your stomach by now, soaking the sheets.
“This is so hot, Tae. Oh god, did I do that?”
“You did”, he says and sighs, “it hurt so much to have all of this inside. I was so close to bursting.”
“Holy cow. This is….fuck, this is hot.”
It finally stops, trickling out of him in an uncoordinated rhythm.
“Ah hm”, Taehyung hums, trembling a little, “empty. Heh.”
“Seriously, if you didn’t ruin me as hard as you did, I would have flipped you and fucked you senseless right now”, you murmur and writhe, “oh god, it’s everywhere though. And so warm”, you whine.
Taehyung laughs, nodding his head, “I know. So messy”, he sits down on your stomach, getting his ass dirty as well. His weight feels so good on your cock. Warm and not at all uncomfortable. He cups your cheeks and pulls you into a kiss.
You hook your arms behind his head, letting him pull you up until he sits on your lap and your chests are melted into one. It spreads the mess everywhere, but it’s already too late to care about that. You’ll just have to take a shower later.
“Holy fuck, I love you so much”, Taehyung whispers between kisses, “if the world ever stops turning, I’ll push her myself just so I can give myself more time with you.”
You giggle, letting him kiss you all over your face with your eyes closed in happy bliss.
“I love you too, Tae. So much.”
717 notes · View notes
obbystars · 1 month
Note
Hi- it's my first time ever requesting so sorry if it's hard to understand-
Could you please write a fic where the reader is somehow allowed to bring an ipod because it helps them calm down. When they reach Sebastian he just hears the music through the earphones which is something that he used to listen to before going under water-.
And it could be fluff or some ?
I'm sorry if this comes off weird but I always struggle when it comes to explaining my ideas 😭 (also English is not my first language ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ)
Hope you have a nice day/evening/night when you read this!
(Hey! No worries! Don’t worry, I think I’ve got the idea and I totally get not knowing how to explain stuff. Huh, perhaps it’s luck that they managed to sneak or even snag an ipod off of a guardsman’s body. That seems like the most probable as I doubt Urbanshade would let a prisoner bring that in. But then again, it’s not a weapon. It doesn’t exactly fit in the criteria of detonating the PDG.)
(Also lol peek the new layout color as I went through Pressure’s badges. Found a neat badge with Sebastian ans its title referencing MatPat!)
NOTES: Sebastian Solace x GN!Reader / You loot a dead body / Near-death experience and actual death later (not detailed) / Reader has Sebastian’s document, but nothing too specific is mentioned / Angst if you squint at the end / At one point I was looking at Pandemonium’s document and the app closed me out without saving
Credits: Dividers by @cafekitsune
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Dying and coming back to life had its ups and downs. One thing you’re not too sure of is how much time exactly passes as every experience back to where you started always has surprises. Maybe you go back in time, but that wouldn’t make sense as a certain someone remembers you every time. Hell, he’s even there to discuss your death with you in whatever world you’re brought to after dying. Maybe your body is just brought back to before you entered the submarine to Hadal Blacksite. That could make sense if it weren’t for the increased security. Urbanshade had to have noticed by now that one of their prisoners seems to be able to cheat death itself.
That doesn’t matter right now, you keep reminding yourself. As long as they’re still unaware.
Strangely enough, in one of your lives, you encountered a dead guardsman. It startled you at first, but tried to continue on and resist the urge to see if he had anything on him. That was until you heard music coming from him. You can’t fight the urge anymore as you approached him and searched where it was coming from. An ipod that was still functional, and earphones. Strange.
You looked around and checked each corner of the room, trying to see if there were any cameras. Surely they won’t mind if you picked this up, right? It’s not a weapon, so they have no reason to trigger the detonation. Right? It’s not like they saw you pick it up.
This guardsman definitely had a good taste in music, although a bit random. You’ll shuffle it for now and see where it’ll go from there. You pop one earphone on and try your best to hide it from sight when you do eventually run into cameras.
Once you opened the next door, you suddenly hear distant screaming. You quickly ran and hid in a locker, putting on the other earphone and turning the volume all the way up. You hoped it was enough to drown out the sound of the angler passing by. The screams the variants emit often left your ears ringing, the pink one especially since there was no warning prior to it approaching. That one’s scream was louder than the others and it never failed to instill so much fear in you that you briefly forget to hide in a locker.
Once the angler passes and knocks out the lights, you slowly crawl out of the locker. The ipod and earphones were, surprisingly, still functional. You remember reading their document during one of your deaths. All of the anglers emit some sort of EMP equivalent that results in short circuiting all electronics, sometimes malfunctioning too. So why were these still operational?
You shake your head, trying to not question it. It’s better not to anyway.
While the anglers screams were too loud, the silence they create once they pass is also nerve wracking. You took one earphone off and pulled out your flashlight to ease yourself a bit, but quickly shine it away once you hear growling and a glowing white face appears.
It was standing right next to the door. Worst of all, you need a keycard. You don’t have a code breacher on you. You kept the light lowered so you know where you’re stepping as you walk around trying to find where the keycard is. Not in this drawer, not in here either, no… It’s on a table next to a computer.
You came back to the door and can faintly see the creature still standing there. Despite the music playing, you couldn’t calm down. Still, you pushed yourself to approach the door and get out. The face the creature created stares down at you as you got a little too close, but then it suddenly eyes the keycard in your hand and sees where exactly you’re reaching. The face disappears, and so do they as the door opens.
You let out a sigh of relief and carry on to the next room. There were some batteries in a drawer. Your flashlight was likely to run out of juice soon. That was a relatively normal room, so you moved onto the next one. The vent door off to the side tips over and you can faintly hear his voice.
“Psst! In here,”
You smile and crawl through the vent to meet up with a familiar friendly face.
“Welcome back, friend,” he greets with a smile.
You waved at him as you stood up. Your eyes instantly lock onto the medical kit as that’s something you are in need of, and you’ll still have some data to spare. What else do you need… He has a lantern, code breacher, hand-cranked flashlight… You don’t hear the thumping noise of something else crawling through the vent and you don’t realize it until-
“HEY!!” Sebastian yelled.
You turned around just as the wall dweller opened its jaw, but it didn’t get a chance to do anything as Sebastian punched it into the wall. You yelped and fell back, pushing yourself closer to the table beside him. Sebastian had only beat it enough until it crawled away through the vent. It probably won’t get very far.
He turns to you, a little surprised to see you so frightened, “You really gotta start watching your own back. I’m not punching every one of those things for you,”
“S-Sorry, I was a bit distracted…” You stand up.
“I’m surprised you managed to get this far if you couldn’t hear that thing coming,”
You looked down, knowing exactly why you didn’t hear it. The music is still playing, and the one earphone you had on was blocking the sound of the wall dweller approaching. You were a bit shaken up, but the music does calm you down a bit. Sebastian watches you as you walk over to his tail to try and make a final decision, but he swears he hears something.
“What is that sound…?” He looks around for a moment before his eyes land on you, still trying to choose what to buy. He spots something in your ear and leans down, “Hey, what’s that you got there?”
You turn to him as he suddenly leans closer to you, his head right next to where the earphone is.
“I know that song. Is that Metallica?”
You stare up at him in shock, “You know Metallica?”
“Well obviously, you know I was just a regular human, right? You have my document for god’s sake,” he retorts, “How’d you even get an ipod of all things in here?”
“Oh, it’s not mine. I got it from a dead guardsman,”
Sebastian gives you a suspicious look, “I thought Urbanshade doesn’t allow their prisoners to loot dead bodies, armed ones at that. You could end up dead, but seeing as they haven’t detonated your diving gear yet, I’m guessing you weren’t spotted,”
“I guess not. There wasn’t a camera where I got this from, and I made sure to hide it from the cameras in the other rooms,”
“I’m curious to see just how far you’ll get with this thing. You couldn’t even hear the wall dweller approaching,” he crosses his arms, “I’m not sure if you’re bold or just stupid. Are you sure this risk is worth it?”
You can’t deny that he’s got a point. It gets in the way of hearing things you NEED to hear. Still, music brings you comfort so that’s what you tell him. You’ll only have both on when an angler is coming to block out their scream as they pass.
“Mhmm, and what will you do about Z-367? You know, the one they named Pandemonium? What then?”
Shit, he’s actually got you cornered there. You just sighed knowing full well you can’t just sit that one out and wait for it to pass, “Then I’ll just have to deal with it the usual way. I can still hear them through the music,”
Sebastian glares at you for a minute before he sighs, “Jeez, you really want to keep that thing on you, huh? Alright, I’m not stopping you. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you though,”
You smiled, “I’ll just say I knew what I was getting myself into and I’ll face the consequences,”
“Oh look at that, someone is finally taking responsibility for their own actions. It’s shocking how that’s so rare nowadays,”
You manage to pick up on his sarcastic tone and laughed. It was always fun talking with him. By the end of it, you picked up the code breacher with the medical kit he had, as well as a few batteries since you still had more data.
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Upon your next unfortunate death, you realized your still have the ipod and earphones. Both were still fully functional, somehow, but you weren’t complaining. You quickly went into the submarine and waited for a few minutes before taking it out to actually scroll through the list of songs. You didn’t exactly pay attention to what was being played while you were there. Soon enough, you did find songs from Metallica which reminded you of the conversation you had with Sebastian.
You never thought he’d be into that kind of music. Maybe you’ll lend the ipod to him when you meet up with him in his shop again. Surely the repeated morse code on that radio has gotten old by now. You doubt you’ll last long without it though, but Sebastian wasn’t wrong when he said it hinders your ability to even hear the wall dwellers. Well, it wouldn’t hurt to give it up for a bit.
Once you managed to find Sebastian’s hideout again, you took off both earphones as you approached him, “Hey, you wanna hold onto this for me?”
You hold up the ipod and Sebastian gives you an odd look, “And you want to give this to me because?”
“I thought about what you said last time. I mean, I’ve made it pretty far without this before, so I don’t think I need it that much,”
He continues to stare at you before taking it from your hands. He inspects it, scrolling through the list of songs on it.
“Wow some of these suck,”
“I think some are pretty good,” you shrugged. You walked over to his tail to see what he has now, “Oh finally, a flashlight,”
Sebastian lowers the ipod and turns to you with a smirk, holding out his third limb, “Better pay up,”
“Yeah yeah, I know,”
Before you left, you left the earphones with him as well. It won’t do much good for you if it’s not gonna block out sound anyway, and it’s not like Sebastian will have much use of it either.
Some time has passed since you left the ipod with him. Sebastian had set it down on the desk next to him as music is being played. He remembers doing college work while listening to music all those years ago. Part of him now understands why you said it comforts you. Maybe it even allowed you to focus as it did with him.
Until you come back to eventually bring it along with you again, he’ll listen to the songs on the list for hours.
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rxzennia · 5 months
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sex with aventurine of strategems
✎𓂃 top aven (bottom aven will eventually be served too dw except im hoping to make that emotional so it’ll take a bit hehe), i finished 2.1 yesterday and i’m not fine… angst fic/ character deep dive coming soon (idk when tbh bcs im busy); in the meantime, thirsting for foul legacy: star rail edition boss aven
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aventurine in this form is so much bigger than you, it’s so easy for him to just pick you up and manhandle you like you’re nothing. and he loves doing that, picking you up effortlessly and tossing you onto the bed as you spread your legs for him.
his fingers are way, way longer and girthier
loves shoving them up your hole because you squeeze around them so sweetly
also loves hearing that squelch when he pushes three fingers deep into you
oh, you want to touch yourself? nu-uh, he’ll keep your hands above your head
it’s so easy for him restrain you, you’re so much smaller compared to him
and he will tease you to high hell with his fingers
he loves seeing the way you move your hips, trying to chase his touch
but no, darling, he decides what you get, how much you get, and when you get it
your cute whimpers won’t change his mind, even if he loves hearing them
or eating them up as he shoves his tongue deep into your mouth
loves having you moan into his kisses
he won’t stop using his fingers until you’ve wet the bed enough
like, dripping, squirting, anything, until you’ve soaked through the sheets into the mattress
he’s overstimulating you already and he hasn’t gotten to actually fucking you yet
he wants you a mess under him
he wants you to get addicted to his touch
he wants you to not be able to function without him
those are thoughts he has on a regular basis, but they’re amplified so much more when he’s in his boss form
he wants to “preserve” you, so that you’ll never be harmed, or taken away from him…
“please, please, please,” you cry, writhing and squirming desperately as you cum for the umpteenth time, “just, just fuck me already, please,” you push against his hand that has long since been drenched in your arousal, “please, your fingers aren’t enough, hngh…”
“not yet, darling,” aventurine coos in his distorted voice, “not yet. let me play with you, ‘kay?”
he’ll pull his fingers out very, very slowly and watch your expression twist into one of pure agony
you’re arching your back and trying to chase his fingers
he presses your hips back onto the bed, holding you still as he enjoys the sight of your gaping hole
and how you’re completely naked under him, while he’s still fully clothed
he loves the power trip he feels at that moment
he makes sure you can see all the slick on his fingers, and his tongue licks them clean
then he slowly traces your body with his claws, from your cheek all the way down to your inner thighs
if you’re still conscious enough to look, you’ll see the monstrous tent straining against his pants
(if whatever he’s wearing are even pants to begin with)
your hole twitch as you feel yourself getting hungrier and hungrier for him
and he sees that, of course he does
instead of giving you what you want, he’ll keep touching your body
avoiding your hole, though
if you cry, he might change his mind and give you what you want
although chances are he’ll say something like “you’re so hot when you cry” instead of finally gracing you with his cock
he will definitely taunt you and degrade you
“hmm? my darling can’t take it anymore?” he chuckles as his fingers circle your hole that has been clenching around nothing for the past few ten minutes, “look at you, so eager for me… so horny, so dirty…”
when aventurine finally frees his cock, you let out a soft, shaky breath when you realize how much bigger he is in his semi-emanator form. but you’re into that, you’re into everything that he is, anyway.
you try to touch him, obviously, seeing how hard and how much precum is already leaking
no. he won’t let you, not this time
he wants your hole, and only your hole
he grabs your hand and pushes it down
flips you around into doggy while he’s at it
he rubs his tip against you, grinding his hips into yours as he fucks your thighs
you can feel him on your entrance, but he just isn’t slipping in
no matter how much you wriggled around or tried to line him up
“agh, shit, please,” you start, the heat in your stomach slowly becoming unbearable as he teases you with his thick cock, “please, put it in, put it in?”
he does not put it in
until you actually burst out in tears of frustration and pulled your legs apart for him
“f-fuck me already…!” you whine, and he can see how ready you are for him, “please, please, i want you so bad, please, fuck me…”
he loves how pathetic you get when you’re all needy, it feels like you’re really addicted to him
he takes his time enjoying the sight
your hole is so, so, so slick, and he can see your every twitch and spasm
he can’t hold back anymore, you’re just too tempting
“just what i wanted to hear.” he finally grabs you by your hips and slowly pushes his way in
it’s a very, very tight fit even if he’s stretched you with his fingers
he stays still for a bit to let you adjust as he moans breathlessly into your ears
does not help you stay still at all
“mmh,” you sigh and try to move, but damn, it’s such a stretch that it burns a little. still, you’re not going to give up; you’ve been waiting for this for the entire night already, if you wait any more you might lose your mind. “hnngh, you’re so big!” you push against him, fucking yourself on his cock, “ah, ahh, you’re so deep…”
your whimpers are so loud, so shameless! aventurine shudders at the sight of you, on all fours, drooling and crying for him.
his claws dig into your skin as he snaps his hips into yours
you yelp at every movement he makes
you feel like you’re breaking whenever he hits your sensitive spots
which, let’s be honest, is practically wherever he touches
he’s fucking you into the mattress so good, but his hands are also roaming all over your twitching body
which means you get scratches everywhere
he changes positions so that you’re sitting on him, back to his chest
because this way he can rest his head on your shoulders as he abuse your hole
his mask is poking at your shoulder, but he’s trying his best to rest his chin on you instead of his mask
cut him some slack, he’s focused on fucking you silly
he’s looking at you the whole time he’s pounding into you
taking in how your eyes roll back, how your back arches and your toes curl
how, slowly, he’s taking away all your ability to reason and replacing it with his cock
he will lick up your drool and tears
but just his pounding is not enough – you need more stimulation!
you try to touch yourself because he just doesn’t want to touch you the way you want
he will smack your hands away
or interlock his fingers with yours so that you can’t touch yourself
“no touching,” aventurine groans loudly as he slams into you, “i want you to come only on my cock,” he hisses, “only from how good i’m fucking you, hmm?”
though, he sees your teary eyes and your half-open mouth, about to beg.
“aww, can’t take it? then, how about this…” he chuckles darkly, “let’s make a bet, shall we?”
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moonstruckme · 4 months
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who knew camp counsellor james would have such a hold on me-
i feel like one one of the last days of the camp before they have to go back to experiencing the joys of the real world james would sneak the reader out past curfew to indulge in a late night campfire session or smth yk? it would just be really cute-
Thanks for requesting lovely!
camp counselor!James x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words
It took you a while to clear the fog of sleep from your head, and you could really argue that you didn’t fully wake up until after you’d put your shoes on and slipped out of your cabin to let James take you into the woods. Your decision making abilities were definitely not fully functioning. 
Not because you wouldn’t have gone if they were, but because you probably would have put on real shorts. 
You feel strangely underdressed in your pajamas while James leads the way in his everyday clothes. Whatever this is—you haven’t had the wherewithal to ask many questions—it was clearly pre-planned on his end, and you hadn’t been clued in until he’d tapped on the window by your bunk bed and asked you to come outside. 
“Careful of that hole there,” he warns you, voice chipper and oddly loud in the quiet of early morning, though you think he’s speaking at a normal volume. 
You step over the hole he’d gestured to, every step helping you to shed the lethargy you’ve carried out of your cabin with you. The world around you is lightening, your sandaled feet brushing against wet blades of grass and mist pleasantly chilling your skin. There’s an excitement coming off James that’s more contagious the more you wake up. 
“Where are we going?” you ask.
“The top of the hill.” 
“Why?” 
“God, can’t I have any secrets?” He tosses you a smile over his shoulder. “It’s a surprise.” 
You roll your eyes even though he can’t see. “Is the surprise that you’re going to murder me?” 
“Well, now you’ve spoiled it.” 
You don’t actually think James would murder you. He may be serial-killer charming, but he’s the sort of kind that persists even when no one is looking and you truly don’t think he’s got a malicious bone in his body. There’s certainly nothing malicious about the way he looks at you now, turning to watch you finish the climb as he steps into the clearing beyond the trees. 
This grassy bluff (referred to lovingly by camp staff as “the hill”) overlooks the lake and the uninhabited, wooded land opposite your camp. On the horizon, you can see thin wisps of fog coating the landscape, tinged faintly yellow by the emerging light though the sun hasn’t yet broken the surface. 
This isn’t somewhere the kids ever really come, but still management has built a wooden fence along the edge of the hill to make sure no one misses the drop-off or tries to jump into the lake below. James walks up to it like this is something he does every day, putting his legs between the two boards so he’s sitting on one with his arms folded across the other. 
You follow suit, though you’re still not sure why you’re here. James set a hand on your back to keep you from tipping backwards while you get situated, and even through the material of your pajama top, it burns like a brand. 
“So, this is the plan,” you say, hating the nervous pitch of your voice. Even though you and James see each other every day, it’s rare that you’re so thoroughly alone with him. “You’re going to dump me in the lake, and then blame it on my own recklessness for climbing over the fence.” 
“Yes, you’ve figured me out,” James replies, but his heart doesn’t seem in the joke anymore. “No, I was just thinking, we never get any time away from the kids.” 
“Except the bonfire.” It’s out of your mouth before you can stop it, the closest either of you have come to acknowledging what happened in the woods that night. You blame exhaustion for the slip. James’ eyes widen slightly, his lips parting like he might say something, but you go on in a hurry, “But yeah, generally we don’t.” 
James quells his surprise, lips turning up again. “Right. I’ve been wanting to come up here to watch the sunrise—it’s the only place you can really see it around here—and I figured we may as well. Friday’s our last day, you know?” 
The levity goes out of you in a soft breath. You turn your gaze towards the horizon. “Yeah,” you acknowledge. 
The end of camp heavies your heart for loads of reasons, but lately the idea of not seeing James has been your least favorite. It’s both of your first summer here, and you’re already planning to come back next year but you don’t know if he’ll do the same. 
You find yourself asking, “Are you ready to go home?” 
The boards creak as James shifts his weight. “There are people I miss, so I’ll be happy to get back to them, but…no, not really. I feel like things have ended too fast. Like, I thought there’d be more time, but now all of a sudden we’re meant to start packing. Are you?” 
You look at James. His hair really has gotten long. There are curls that you think if pulled would stretch nearly to the tip of his nose. You remember when he’d shown up for training, three days before the kids got here, cleaner and several shades lighter and by far the most handsome man you’d ever seen. You’d hardly been able to look at him that first day, so nervous about tripping over your tongue and embarrassing yourself before being stuck with this gorgeous boy for the entire summer, but James’ geniality proved relentless. By dinnertime he’d had you trading your fruit for his fries and the camaraderie between you after that had been easy and fun, if not always strictly friendly. 
“Not really,” you agree, offering him a halfhearted smile. 
James’ knee bumps yours, and all the heat in your body seems to focus on the spot. He smiles back at you. “I’m gonna miss you,” he says, tone light but eyes heavy. 
Your head feels staticky. “I’m gonna miss you, too,” you say. Any other time your voice would be too quiet to hear, but the morning is still, and James feels closer to you than he was a few moments before. “You’re right, I wish there’d been more time for…things.” 
“We could keep in touch.” His voice has gone soft too. You can almost feel his warm breath on your face. “I don’t live that far from you, we could meet up on weekends, or…” 
“Right,” you murmur, but you only get about halfway through before his lips are on yours. 
James tastes like toothpaste and fresh air, and he kisses just like you thought he would, giving and taking in equal measure. His mouth is warm and easy on yours, testing the waters, feeling out what you want. You grip his shoulder to pull him closer, and despite the awkward angle he obliges you. Your head fills with buzzing bees. 
You lose your balance and nearly fall off the fence, but James catches you, laughing into your mouth. He eases you both down onto the ground, appeasing you with kisses to your cheek, your jaw, the side of your nose until he finds his way back to your lips. The dewy wetness of the grass seeps into your clothes. 
You feel more than see the sun rising over the lake. Golden light blooms on the insides of your eyelids, followed by a faint warmth on that side of your face. You find you’re actually alright with missing this one.
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