#which now i'll have to render the clothes on top of rendering his body which will be mostly covered anyway

[alongtidesoflight]

anyway wip (idk i was gonna do a refsheet for veilguard but i got really really focused on rendering his arms so like 10hrs later here we are)

[roosterforme]

How You Play the Game Part 6 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You find more comfort in Bradley's home and in his arms than anywhere else. But time is ticking down, and only a win by the Angels on Saturday evening will give you more of both. Bradley tries to make a compelling argument, because he knows it's finally time to start speaking his mind.

Warnings: Swears, fluff, angst, oral and smut (18+)

Length: 7600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! How You Play the Game masterlist. Banner by @thedroneranger

You woke with a small jump as soft lips and a bristly mustache met your cheek. "Bradley?" you mumbled as his deep chuckle next to your ear made you shiver. When you started to push the covers off and open your eyes, you felt a hand on your shoulder. 

"I'm leaving for work, but you should stay in bed. You deserve a day off."

Now you were looking up at him standing next to his bed in his khaki uniform with all of his pins and his name tag. And he looked so good, you knew you were staring. It was almost startling seeing him like this when you were so used to all the Padres shirts and snug fitting jeans. Most of the people in his life were probably more used to this look. The Lieutenant Bradshaw look. But it was rendering you speechless. 

"Can I come to work with you today?" you asked him, earning another chuckle. Spending the day at his house doing your laundry, relaxing and eating everything in his refrigerator sounded actually pretty perfect, but you'd just rather be doing all of that with him here, too.

"It's not Take the sports writer you're completely infatuated with to work day."

Now you were the one laughing as you set up in bed and reached for him. "When's that day? I'll make sure I'm off."

He kissed you sweetly as his hand found your hip. "I think it's in April."

You were giggling against his smiling lips when he suddenly groaned. "I need to go. Text me if you need anything? Or if you just want to distract me?"

"I will."

"See ya, Ace."

When you heard the front door open and then close, you rolled over in his bed and buried your face in his pillow. Then you squeezed it to your body. Bradley smelled incredible, especially since you were so used to the sterile bleach scent of hotel bedding and the stale air of ballpark press boxes. You wished you could bottle this up and take it on the road with you. Take a little bit of Bradley wherever you went. 

Before that thought could take further shape, you climbed out of his bed and shivered in just his TOP GUN tee shirt. Since he told you to make yourself comfortable, you allowed yourself to root around in his dresser drawers in search of a pair of socks. Your eyes caught on the frame of his mirror hanging over the dresser, and you smiled at your reflection as you reached up and touched the ticket from game one. It was the media pass he won from the radio program, and you traced the corners of it before you sat on his bed and put on a pair of his comically large socks. 

It was early, but you were hungry, and you found a fully stocked refrigerator when you went to the kitchen. Bradley's home was a treasure trove of things that were normal for other people but not for you: bedding that smelled like heaven and a delicious assortment of fresh food. You pulled out a container of berries and then found oatmeal in his cabinets. Your stomach was growling loudly as you poured yourself some coffee from the pot he left out for you. 

You sat on his living room couch with your breakfast and looked out the window. It was probably always this sunny here, always this inviting. Bradley's cottage was easily five times the size of your apartment, which you rarely thought about beyond it being a place to hold all of your things that didn't really matter. You didn't have time for stuff; just the clothes on your back and your computer. 

When you finished the last bite of oatmeal, you felt tears in your eyes. You were so lonely. You were so tired of forcing yourself to work harder and harder to make up the deficit between yourself and your colleagues. You just wanted to hide here, in San Diego, with Bradley. You felt safe and desirable, and he wasn't yelling at you or telling you that you needed to go to Boston.

You took a deep breath as you went to the kitchen sink with your bowl and mug. There were a few other dishes there, so you washed everything for him and set them out to dry. It had been years since you hadn't done at least a little bit of work on a day off, so you went to get your computer out of his bedroom. But it smelled too good, so you carried your computer back to his bed and snuggled in where you could work on the beginning of your next article before the game tomorrow afternoon. 

Your inbox was completely filled with offers from recruiters with other newspapers and online outlets. You knew some of them would send you a job offer in an instant without even asking you to interview with them. Some of them had even managed to corner you when you were on the job; they knew your schedule as well as you did. You were always sent to the most high profile matches and events. And while some aspects of what they were offering you sounded very enticing, you were already at The New York Times. 

After you took some deep breaths, you deleted all of them and opened up a blank document and got to work. But you didn't get far before you closed your laptop, because writing baseball stats was a lot more fun when you were sitting on Bradley's lap. You decided to text him.

How's work?

Then you remembered he told you that you could check out his collection of baseball cards in the garage. You jumped out of bed and walked down the short hallway, peeking in the extra bedroom on the way. You opened one door, but it was just a linen closet which he actually had organized by color, which you found charming. The next door led you out to the small, attached garage which was also very tidy. You looked at everything on his shelves before you found some boxes that said Nick Bradshaw- Baseball Cards. The marker was very faded on the cardboard, so you slid the first one down very carefully.

When you carried it back inside to the living room, you felt your phone vibrate in your hand. Once you set the box down, you saw that you had a new message from Bradley.

Bradley Bradshaw: Work is not as fun as playing hooky with you. What are you up to, Baby?

You took a selfie with the box of baseball cards which you assumed had belonged to his father. You added the caption 'About to dig through these and swoon all over your living room.'

The collection was impressive to say the least. You didn't collect cards, because you didn't have the time or space for them, but you knew which of his were valuable when you looked through them. You thought about how much fun it would be to organize these a little better with him. Your phone was vibrating again.

Bradley Bradshaw: You look gorgeous. Send me another picture?

You sent him another selfie, and then he asked for another one. This game went on and on until lunchtime when you decided to mess with him a little bit. 

Now send me one, and you'll get something sexy in return.

He didn't respond immediately, and you figured he must be busy. You made a sandwich for lunch and ate it with some potato chips. Then you found his washer and dryer in a little closet across from the bathroom door and started a load of your dirty clothes. And then you got ready to get in the shower. 

Your phone vibrated on the sink vanity, so you grabbed it before you stepped under the spray of hot water. And you almost dropped it when you saw a set of two photos of Bradley out in the bright sunlight in his uniform. In the first one, he was wearing some aviator sunglasses and smirking. In the second one, the sunglasses were gone, and he was smiling. 

"Fuck," you moaned as you looked at the photos, making sure you didn't get your phone wet.

Bradley Bradshaw: Now where's my sexy Ace?

Before you could tell yourself what a big mistake you were making, you snapped a photo of yourself, water cascading down your breasts and a grin on your face. You sent it with the caption 'You look so good in those aviators, I'm about to start touching myself.'

You were standing there thinking about it. Your nipples were hard, and you were thinking about the scratch of Bradley's mustache on your skin. But his next message had your hand pausing before you could touch your clit.

Bradley Bradshaw: Jesus Christ, Baby. How am I supposed to focus when you send me something that good? Don't you dare touch yourself. I want you dialed up to eleven for me when I get home.

And now you were a whimpering mess as you tried to shower without letting yourself get off, wishing you had brought some sexy underwear on this trip with you.

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

Well now Bradley was a mess, thinking about your body while he was supposed to be listening to a safety demonstration out on the tarmac. Why had he bothered to come to work today? He should have taken a second day off and spent it with you. 

But you were leaving soon, and that was why he decided to try to keep to his normal routine. And you were exhausted whether you thought so or not, so he wanted you to have time to relax and unwind. 

"Hey," Nat whispered, nudging his arm. "You okay?"

Bradley sighed and nodded, and then he held up his phone with a photo of you with the baseball cards for her to see. Nat pushed him a little further away from the group and hissed, "She's at your house? Are you insane?"

"Nat," he started, running his hand through his hair. "I know-"

"No, I don't think you do, Rooster. You're going to get your heart broken."

He nodded and looked down at their feet. "It's already unavoidable at this point. And she makes me feel so good."

His best friend sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "You know you're supposed to come to the Hard Deck for Mickey's birthday tonight, right?"

His plan was to bring you along, buy you a few drinks, maybe dance to the horrible collection of songs in the jukebox with you. "Yeah," he replied. "I'll come if she wants to join me, but I don't want you giving her the stink eye all night."

She scoffed. "I'll be perfectly nice to her."

Bradley shook his head, starting to get pissed off. "Will you though? See, the thing is, I'd like to think that I'm not the only one headed for some heartbreak here, Nat. I'd like to think she feels the same way I do. Like maybe I'm too good to be true, too. And maybe spending time with me now is worth the pain later."

Her face softened immediately. "You are, Rooster. You're too good to be fucking true. I promise I'll be nice. At the Hard Deck and next week if you want to talk about it then."

After that, Bradley just left early instead of hanging out on the tarmac with the others. He skipped the showers since he'd barely even done anything today. Then he could get home sooner and see you and just shower there. When he climbed in the Bronco, he texted to let you know he was on his way. And then he sat there with his key hovering next to the ignition. 

You'd be gone by Monday morning. This was the only time he'd ever get to tell you he was on his way home to you. More than anything, he wanted to know if you were falling in love like he was. He wanted to know if there was even a tiny part of you that wanted to stay. 

Ace: Hurry! I'm making dinner. And you should keep those aviators on when you get here... I'm dialed up to eleven.

He shoved the key into the ignition. He was pretty dialed up as well, but he knew it was at least in part because his heart was invested. He lived so close to base, it only took him a few minutes to get home. When he reached to remove his sunglasses and leave them in the cup holder, he smiled. Then he dashed up the walkway to his front door with his keys in hand and his aviators perched on his nose.

You were right there when he walked inside, wearing one of his favorite tropical print shirts and a pair of his socks and a bright smile. His house seemed more inviting than it ever had before. It even smelled like you were making something delicious. And then you were in his arms, and his hands were inside the unbuttoned shirt all over your soft skin.

"I missed you. Been thinking about how good you look in this thing all day long," you moaned, running your hands up and down the front of his uniform shirt. "But the sunglasses make it magical."

"I missed you, too." Bradley kissed you as your hands made their way slowly down to his pants. "You had me dialed up all day and I wasn't even with you." He wanted to ask you so many questions right now, but you were kissing his mustache and bumping his sunglasses with your nose while you wrapped your hand around his cock and started jerking. And then he couldn't remember anything except how happy you made him.

When you sank to your knees in front of him, Bradley yanked his aviators lower on his nose. You were smiling up at him as you yanked his pants down a little lower and licked away the bead of his precum before you kissed his tip. "Why is this so hot with you in your uniform, Lieutenant?"

Bradley groaned loudly as you took a few inches of him with a smirk. "Why is this so hot with you in my shirt and socks?"

You popped him free and giggled. "All my clothes are in your washing machine. Even my underwear."

"I love that for myself," he grunted as you took him deep. With gentle fingers, he stroked your face as you gave him head in his living room. It was like some depraved housewife fantasy, the way you felt so familiar to him. The way he could smell dinner cooking. The way you bobbed your head and moaned for him.

You sucked on his balls and ran your tongue slowly back and forth as you looked up at him. You had one hand wrapped around his length, and you were touching your tits with the other. Your gaze was the neediest thing he had ever seen as he stroked your cheek. Every time you released him, he groaned for you, and then you just started sucking on him again. He could feel himself tightening up as you kissed his balls and whimpered. 

"Fuck," he growled, hauling you to your feet and getting his lips back on yours as you gasped in surprise. "I wanna fuck you."

"Please," you gasped, nodding and looking toward the couch. 

He shook his head and lifted you up with both hands on your bare ass. "In my bed, Ace." 

"That's even better," you whispered, sucking on his neck and raking your fingers through his hair. "Your bedroom smells like you. I love it in there."

"Fuck," he grunted again, his cock slapping against your ass as he carried you to his bed. And then you were on your back with your head on his pillow as he took off his aviators and tossed them down next to you. His shirt was hanging open on you, and his socks looked ridiculously adorable on your feet, and your legs were spread wide, your pussy already so wet for him. "You are the hottest thing I have ever seen," he announced before burying his face in your pussy and making you scream his name. 

"Bradley!" you screeched and gasped over and over again as he got his face all wet from you before bringing his lips up to yours for a kiss. His uniform pins were brushing against your breasts and you were grinding your pussy against his cock. 

"Shit," he gasped, pulling your lip between his teeth and releasing it. "Where are the condoms?"

"In my suitcase in the hallway," you whimpered. "Skip it if you want. I have an IUD."

And if Bradley thought he was losing his mind ten seconds ago, it was nothing compared to letting himself slip inside your warm, wet pussy with no protection at all. "Ace," he rasped, watching your face as he pushed himself deeper until your back arched off the bed. He fucked you with his hands on your hips until your legs were shaking. You had your hands all over his face, continuously pulling him in for kisses. 

"You feel so good," you gasped, running your feet along his thighs.

He pressed his lips to your ear and asked, "Are you getting close for me?"

"Yes," you moaned, reaching for his hand and drawing it up to your lips. You sucked on his fingers for a few seconds, taking him painfully close to the edge, and then you pressed his fingers to your clit. 

He worked in quick strokes, listening to the sounds you made as you got louder. When you pulled him closer for more kisses, he indulged you before he said, "I wanna watch you come for me, Baby."

And then you did. You came apart with his fingers on your body and his name on your lips. Your face was beautiful as you gasped and babbled nonsense as your pussy drained every drop of cum from him. You were perfect as you reached for him and said, "Now you better kiss me."

You and he had your lips all over each other for so long after you both caught your breath that he was surprised and delighted all over again when he started to pull out of you and remembered he came inside you.

"You're blushing," you whispered as you looked up at him on his knees between your legs.

His cum was slowly oozing out of your opening and dripping down to your ass. "Baby, if you could see what I see, you'd understand." He was transfixed. Obsessed. He leaned down to kiss your pussy and taste himself there, licking along your skin with a soft grunt. 

You propped yourself up on your elbow and tugged him by his hair, and he just knew you wanted to taste it, too. So he kissed you, letting you suck on his tongue. Then he jerked away from you and turned toward the door.

"Is something burning?"

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

"Fuck, I'm sorry," Bradley said for the hundredth time as you sat on his couch with him eating pizza. "This isn't as good as yours would have been."

You just laughed. "Seriously, this is probably better. I'm not great at cooking. I was just trying to impress you."

Why exactly, you weren't sure. What difference did it make to Bradley if you could cook a chicken casserole that was good or not? He wasn't yours to impress. You weren't going to be here past Sunday night at the very latest, and that was only if the Angels won game six tomorrow. 

"I'm impressed," he replied, his cheeks a little pink again.

"Yeah," you said, trying to push your feelings to the back burner. "I could tell how impressed you were with me in your bedroom."

"That's not what I meant," he said, looking down at his lap with a frown that made your heart ache. You tossed your pizza crust into the box and climbed on his lap. You and he had taken a quick shower together after he called in a pizza order, and now you were both in your own clothing. 

You kissed him and tried to change the subject. "What time are we leaving for the bar?" you asked. 

When he met your eyes again, he said, "We can go whenever. And we don't have to stay long. Just long enough to say happy birthday to my friend and have a drink?"

You could hardly believe he wanted to take you with him. His friends would want details about who you were and why you were together, so you would just follow his lead. 

It was a short drive in his cool Bronco to the bar, and he sang along to the radio and held your fingers laced with his the whole way. And then he paraded you inside with him like it was the most natural thing the two of you could be doing. "That's Mickey, the birthday boy wearing the blue Captain America shirt. And that's my best friend Natasha wearing the annoyed expression because someone is talking to her."

You laughed, and he leaned down to kiss you as you walked toward the pool table. As you walked past the bar to meet everyone, you noticed the bartender's gaze following you and Bradley as you went. Her expression was one of curiosity as she mixed a drink. 

"Ace, this is Nat," Bradley was saying, and you turned in time to grasp hands with the woman that he referred to as a 'mean little spitfire'. 

"It's nice to meet you," Natasha replied. She didn't look happy exactly, but she didn't look like she was upset that you were here. "I've heard a lot about you."

You looked up at Bradley, a little surprised. "Oh. I've heard a lot about you, too. Bradley said you're smarter than all the guys."

She nodded and smiled. "Yes. Yes, I am. Thanks for acknowledging it, Rooster. You two want drinks?" she asked. 

"Go ahead," Bradley replied. "We'll get some in a minute."

"Hey, Rooster!" Mickey shouted as he waved in between taking shots. 

You laughed. "I don't know if I'd ever get used to everyone using your call sign," you told him. "It's so amusing to me."

Then Bradley wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you in closer. He kissed your forehead softly, but he looked serious. "If you stick around in San Diego, I bet you'd get used to it, Ace."

You swallowed hard as you looked up into his brown eyes. You could tell he was being sincere, which made everything hurt a little more. But you were saved by the group of guys all calling for him. Bradley sighed and kissed your forehead one more time before you and he were absorbed by the group. 

A few minutes later, your head was swirling with names and faces when Bradley asked, "Do you want me to get you a drink?"

"I'll come with you," you told him, and he nodded before taking your hand a little hesitantly. You were confused, because then he wrapped his arm around you just like he always did, and his fingers were softly stroking your side through your shirt. But then when the bartender turned your way, it clicked. She and Bradley had slept together before. You could just tell. 

"Hey, Bradley," she said, already reaching for a pint glass and pouring what must have been his usual beer. The way she looked at him and talked to him was just a tiny bit too familiar. 

"Hey," he grunted before turning your way. "What do you want to drink, Baby?"

You met the bartender's eyes and couldn't help but smile as Bradley brushed his lips along your temple. You weren't his, but he was choosing you right now. And it felt incredible. "I'll have the same thing," you told her before turning your face so he could kiss your lips. 

Bradley dug out his wallet without really looking at her, and she ran his credit card as you sipped your beer. He wasn't being a jerk, and she didn't seem overly jealous, but you just knew they had a past. 

Then the two of you threw some darts and played some pool, and Bradley was more than happy to point out that mini golf was probably your worst game. "Happy to see you can handle a pool cue better than a putter," he whispered with a grin.

"Be nice, or I'll leave my golf ball behind at your place," you replied. 

He looked a little sad as he shook his head. "I want you to keep that." You knew you would, and he knew you would. You could picture the perfect spot for it in your apartment, but you already knew it would never make it there. You'd keep packing that stupid blue golf ball from your date with him in your luggage and take it everywhere with you. 

"Can we go now?" he asked suddenly, his face a little sad. "Back to my place?"

"Yeah," you agreed, and after a round of goodbyes, he led you back past the bar with his arm around you. The bartender tracked your movements, but you didn't care. He was yours right now, the way he was touching you. 

And he was yours when you got back to his house, the way you were touching him. "Ace," he sighed as you rode him in his bed. His body was delicious, but his voice was what had you a mess. "Baby, you're so good. Can't get enough of those little noises. Keep going." The feel of him once again inside you without a condom as he verbally coaxed you to orgasm was only part of what you knew you were going to miss. 

Because the rest of it came next, when he was curled up with you in the dark, quiet room, his arm draped around you, pulling you close. The only sounds were his breath next to your ear and his deep whisper. "Night, Baby."

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

"Stay in bed," Bradley whispered again. It was Saturday. Game six was this evening, and he was trying his hardest to draw you back to him again. He had successfully made you snuggle in and fall asleep with him again after the first time you woke up.

"You'll mess up my sleep cycle for when I'm in Boston," you murmured before you snuggled against him with the covers pulled up to your chin. "But you're so warm."

Bradley indulged in a brief fantasy where you would fly out to Boston, complete your assignment, and then fly back to San Diego to be with him until you had to go somewhere else. And you'd be here when he got home from a long deployment. Ready to take him to bed and hold him just like this.

"What are you thinking about?" you asked as you ran your nails along his cheek and kissed his nose.

He couldn't tell you, no matter how much he wanted to. "Thinking about how I'm still the worst Padres fan ever. The Angels better win today. We deserve seven games, Ace."

"We do," you agreed, and Bradley was delighted that you fell asleep in his arms again. 

When you and he finally got out of bed, you went to his dresser and pulled on one of his tee shirts like this was a normal occurrence. "Will you let me make you breakfast?" you asked with a smile.

"I was going to make breakfast for you," he replied, patting your ass on his way to the bathroom. "But we could make something together."

You were already in the kitchen, kneeling on the countertop and looking in his cabinets when he came out of the bathroom. "Do you have chocolate chips?" you asked. "We can make chocolate chip pancakes, eggs, maybe some oatmeal. Sorry, I'm just so excited for something other than a free continental breakfast."

He wrapped his hands around your waist and lifted you down as you squeaked. "Not up there," he whispered, kissing your neck as he set you on the floor. "In the pantry."

You turned and scampered across the kitchen, and now Bradley was sincerely hoping he had all the ingredients you'd need for pancakes just so he could make you happy right now. "Found them!" you announced, holding up a bag with a smile that made him weak. 

"Let's get started." 

It was too much fun being with you. The pancakes you made turned out beautifully, and you and he ate on his couch again. This time he accidentally dripped maple syrup on his bare abs since he wasn't wearing a shirt. "I feel like you did that on purpose so I'd either buy you another shirt or lick it off of you."

He smirked. "I mean, I wouldn't be mad if you did."

You sighed dramatically as you set your plate on the coffee table next to the box of baseball cards. "Fine. Extra large shirt? You want the Padres this time?" Bradley laughed at your words, and then you leaned down and licked him clean as you looked up at him. Then you climbed into his lap and kissed him. 

"The Angels better win tonight," he murmured against your lips. "I need them to."

"Do you want to go back to bed?" you asked, and he carried you there, expecting maybe some more tongue exploration. But what he got was you curling up in his arms again, your lips pressed to his chest. You were quiet for a bit before you asked him softly, "What would it be like being in a relationship with you?"

This was an echo of his question from Thursday night, and now he could appreciate that he had really put you on the spot then. How could he describe something spectacular that he wasn't going to get to experience with you, in a way that would make you remember him fondly. Bradley made sure his breathing was calm and even as he said, "Probably just like this, Ace. A whole lot of this right here."

You didn't say anything for a long time, and you kept your face buried against him. But eventually you nodded and said, "I would like that."

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

When Bradley held your hand during the game at Petco Park, everything seemed a bit more somber today. The press box was quieter than usual even though the crowd was going crazy. During the seventh inning stretch, when you leaned in close and kissed his cheek, Quincy turned around and asked, "You bring him to every game now?" as he nodded at Bradley. 

"He's my intern and my sex slave, Quince. And that's strictly on the record." 

But Quincy was undeterred today even as you and Bradley laughed quietly together. "Heard Greg was thinking about pulling you out of here early to send you to the Bruins? He only pays you so much because you're useful to him. Being a woman and all."

Bradley watched your head snap to face Quincy with a look of barely concealed rage. "Try not to cry too hard over the fact that I make more money than you even though you're twice my age." 

Quincy grunted and muttered, "Same old, same old with you. Always gotta be on top. Always gotta get the last word in."

Bradley watched you press your lips together like you were trying your hardest to not have the last word right now. It was obvious that wasn't why you made it as far as you had. It was also obvious Quincy was trying to bait you. Bradley just felt a little bit bad that he could be used as ammunition against you. "You want something to drink, Ace?"

When you nodded, Bradley stood and went to get you a water bottle. "Thanks," you muttered, looking down at your keyboard as he handed it to you. 

"Hey, don't let these assholes get to you," he whispered as he slipped back down into his seat. 

He was drawing little shapes along your back with his fingers as you looked up at him in surprise. "I don't fucking care about Quincy.... the Padres are up three to zip." You laughed sardonically. "You know I'll have to leave in the morning if they win, right?" you asked him.

Bradley nodded. He couldn't even say the words out loud. So he focused on the game and held your hand tight. The Padres were using their relief pitcher a little early, and he looked fatigued. His pitches were wild, and he was walking batter after batter. Then right at the top of the eight inning, Bradley heard the crack of a perfectly hit ball. 

"That's a grand slam," you whispered before the ball was even beyond the fence. Instead of marking it down on your stat sheet, you tossed your pencil aside and kissed him. "Angels up by one run," you said against his lips. 

"They need to hold the lead," he replied, letting his forehead rest against yours. "They need to. I don't care who wins the World Series, but they need to do it in game seven, not game six."

His words made you smile so much, he wrapped his arm around you to keep you as close as he could. And when the final score was the Padres with three runs and the Angels with four, you were practically on his lap. You were even smiling when Greg called you a minute later to tell you to get to Boston first thing on Monday morning after game seven on Sunday night. 

"I'll have to book my flight," you said to Bradley as everyone started to flood out of the press box ahead of the crowd. "But we have two more nights together instead of just one."

You and he were quiet after that, your fingers laced together as you walked out to the parking lot and rode back to his house. He didn't feel like he needed to rush right now as he unlocked his front door and followed you inside. You pulled him in for a kiss that was so sweet, he was surprised. Just your arms around his neck and your lips moving gently on his. 

"We have some time before my midnight deadline. Can we get changed and snuggle in bed like earlier?" you asked him, your eyes closed as your lips hovered near his. "I want to change into your Padres jersey."

Bradley had goosebumps on his skin as he whispered, "It's your Padres jersey now." 

You looked so damn pleased with yourself as you ran toward his bedroom, shedding your clothes on the way. Bradley undressed down to his underwear while you did the same and then slipped his jersey on before heading for his dresser. "Your floor's cold," you mumbled as you grabbed a pair of his socks and put them on before jumping into his bed. "And now I look ridiculous."

Bradley shook his head as he stared at you. He'd been holding back enough, and he just didn't want to do it anymore. "Nah, Ace, you look... like everything I want." 

"Bradley," you whispered, pulling his blanket up over your face. "You can't."

He slipped in bed and burrowed under the blanket with you. Your eyes were bright as you looked at him in the dim bit of light. "I can't help it," he replied, and you eased yourself into his arms. "There's nobody like you. You're the Ace for a reason."

"God," you whimpered, kissing his lips and his cheeks, and teasing your fingers through his hair. Your palms were warm on his cheeks as you traced every single scar and the curve of his lips. You ran your nose along his mustache, and you just snuggled closer and closer to him. "I can't think straight when I'm with you. It's like, I feel like I could..."

"Like you could what, Baby?" he begged. He needed you to finish that sentence, but you didn't. You just kissed him until you were the one begging and pleading. It was so easy to give you what you wanted right now, because he wanted it, too. He yanked his underwear down and pulled yours to the side, and when he slipped inside you, he watched you pull the blankets down. And now he could see you a little better, and you really were exactly what he wanted. 

It was slow and sweet, and he knew he'd never feel this good with anyone else. He didn't want to let you go. He held your thigh on his hip and rocked into you, thrusting as he thought 'stay, stay, stay'.

"Bradley," you moaned, pushing him onto his back and riding him until you came. He was afraid he was saying exactly what he was thinking now as words like need and permanent surfaced in his mind while he babbled. You told him to cum inside you again, so he did. And when you curled up on his chest, he kissed the top of your head. 

Your lips were on his neck as you silently ran your fingers through his hair. "Ace," he whispered, but you just shook your head. So he pressed his lips together and rubbed his hands up underneath the jersey, and you shivered against him. 

A few minutes later, when he was nearly soothed to sleep with his cock still nestled inside you, Bradley felt your body jerk. "Oh no. What time is it?" you gasped. You climbed off of him abruptly, a look of panic on your face as you searched for your phone. "Fuck!" 

Bradley climbed out of bed as you fumbled your phone and ran for your computer which was charging on his chair. His cum was on his abs and your legs, but you didn't stop to get cleaned up before you ran for his kitchen table. "What can I do to help?" he asked as he followed you.

"Nothing," you snapped, booting up your computer. It was almost 11:30, and Bradley wasn't sure exactly how much you'd written before and during the game; he had been too concerned about the Angels winning tonight. 

He got you some water and whispered, "I can help you proofread it," but you didn't respond. You just typed away frantically while he hovered around the living room, glancing in your direction constantly. Your brow was creased in frustrated determination, and Bradley felt like an asshole for not suggesting that you or he set an alarm before climbing in bed. Because he could absolutely lose all track of time when he was with you, whether you and he were fucking, talking or cuddling. And he knew it.

When he looked at the clock on the microwave, he winced. It was nearly midnight, and you were still typing and looking at your stat sheet. "Anything I can do?" he asked again, but you just shook your head, so he went to the bathroom. He got himself cleaned up and then just leaned on the sink vanity with his head cradled in his hands. 

Fuck. The last thing he wanted was for you to feel any stress when you were with him. He felt like an idiot. When he finally returned to the table, the clock said 12:01 and you were still typing. He was waiting for your phone to ring. Greg would be calling you to start screaming any second now. And he had to stand there and watch it all unfold. You submitted your article at 12:07, and you looked up at him with sad yet determined eyes before you answered your ringing phone. 

"Greg," you said, your voice sounding strong and sure even though your face was defeated. And then Greg was hollering nonstop as you held the phone a few inches away from your ear. Bradley hated it so much. He leaned down to kiss your forehead and then your cheek while Greg reminded you not too kindly that you missed your deadline by seven minutes. Then Bradley cupped your face in his hands and held eye contact with you while you told Greg it wouldn't happen again before you ended the call. 

The silence was almost deafening as you held your phone and looked up at him. Bradley swallowed hard, but his voice was still a harsh whisper as he said, "I hate it when he yells at you."

You shook your head and grimaced as tears filled your eyes. "Well, I missed my deadline, so he had every right to-"

"No," Bradley said, dropping to his knees in front of you on his kitchen floor. "He doesn't, Ace. He shouldn't do that. It's just seven minutes."

"But it's a deadline for a reason," you supplied immediately, looking down into his face. "One minute is the same as seven is the same as sixty. It shouldn't happen at all."

Bradley scoffed. "So he sits up until three in the morning in New York just to call you and scream? That's fucked up."

You swiped at your eyes as you whispered, "I let myself get distracted by you. This is my fault. But when I'm with you, I can't think straight. Which is bad."

"Ace," he whispered helplessly as you cried. "But if we were together-"

"We can't be together," you told him. Your voice was soft and sorrowful, but it felt like a gunshot to Bradley. His ears were ringing from the sound of it. He could tell you were stubborn, but right now, he felt stubborn, too. It wasn't very often that he allowed himself to want something, and never on the scale of how badly he wanted you, but he thought right now it would be worth fighting for this.

"I've seen your email inbox," he whispered, and your eyes narrowed slightly. "You don't need Greg or the New York Times to be successful, Ace. You bring everything to the table, and clearly other people see that."

"Bradley," you said, shaking your head sadly. "It's the New York Times. The pinnacle. There's nowhere else for me to go that wouldn't be a step backwards in my career, and that's a fact. My job is important to me. Writing is important to me."

"But you're more than who you write for-"

You cut him off as you raised your voice. "You knew immediately who I was when you saw my name, because I work for The Times!"

Bradley buried his face against your thigh as he tried to will his heart to stop pounding so hard he could barely hear. He kissed you there before he looked up at you again in agony. "People would follow your writing anywhere, because you're that fucking good. Have you ever thought about writing for someone else?"

You swiped at your eyes as you whispered, "No." "Baby, you could make a big name for yourself on an independent platform. Your style is fun and it flows. You can find something better for yourself than the New York Times. This doesn't have to be that hard."

"It's not that easy either. I told you how it would be, Bradley," you said, your voice taking on a pleading tone. "You would hate it when I was away for long stretches. You would want someone else. Someone easy to be with. Someone who was always in San Diego."

"That's a fucking lie," he growled. "And you know it."

You were silent for a minute as your eyes settled on your lap. "New York is my home. I'm settled there. And you're settled here."

He felt sick. The words had too much finality. But you were waiting for him to confirm, and the last thing he ever wanted to do was let you down. "Yeah. I am." Then he realized he was crying as well when he reached up to cup your cheek again. You melted into his touch before you slid off the chair and onto his lap on the floor. "Ace. Look at you," he whispered, and you met his eyes as your lip quivered. "You're perfect. The perfect woman. I want to be with you. And I think you want to be with me, too."

You wrapped your arms around his neck, and he held you while you cried. "I'm sorry, Bradley," you murmured against his shoulder. 

He knew you were scared to even think that something might be a better fit for you, and maybe he was wrong. Maybe it would be career suicide if you left your job. He didn't know a damn thing about it really. All he knew was everyone wanted you with them. Including him. It was hard for him to breathe as he asked, "What do you have in New York that you couldn't have in San Diego? Here. With me."

But you didn't answer him. You just stayed curled up on his lap until after one in the morning with your arms wrapped around him and his securely at your back. He tried his best to memorize how good and yet terrible this felt, because in a few days, he knew he'd probably give anything to feel you in his arms. 

When you finally eased away from him and kissed his lips, you tried to smile as you said, "Let's just enjoy our last day together."

Bradley closed his eyes against the pain. "Sure, Ace."

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

All I feel right now is pain. I miss feeling joy. The final game is next. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 7

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[drpeppertummy]

Anon who is being mean.

MAKE HIM REPTILE LIKE, HE CANT DIGEST ANYTHING IF HE'S NOT WARM ENOUGH

You Are So Smart Im Buying You Tacos

[tummyache, tummy rubs]

Val hugged his arms around his belly as it let out an uncomfortable groan. He didn't think he'd eaten an unreasonable amount at lunch, but it was sitting like a boulder in his stomach, and he felt terribly bloated. He hoped Connie wouldn't notice his discomfort, or at least that he could pass it off as just being cold, but she could read him like a book.

"You alright?" She put an arm around him as they walked, giving him a concerned look. He nodded, though his face suggested otherwise.

"Lunch just isn't sitting right," he said, wincing as his stomach cramped up again. It felt tight and sore, and he felt desperately like he needed to burp, but couldn't.

"Aw, sweetheart." She squeezed him gently, and he bumped his head against her shoulder, wishing they were warm at home where he could curl up in her arms. Right now, though, they were out in the chilly November air, walking home from a lunch outing with one of Connie's friends. Ordinarily, they'd have driven to keep Val out of the cold, but they'd let Calvin drive to school that day so he could go out afterward. Connie had argued against it for Val's sake, suggesting that they drop him off instead, but Val had insisted that he would be fine as long as she didn't mind the walk.

He wouldn't say it now, but Val was regretting that decision. The walk hadn't seemed long in theory, but it certainly did now. With his high body temperature, the mild chill of late autumn was freezing to him, and he'd spent the entire trip there shivering away with his hands in his pockets. Now, he was still shivering away, and his belly ached terribly on top of it. He'd never wanted to curl up under a blanket and go to sleep more in his life.

Connie was an autumn girl and minded neither the weather nor the walk, but the sight of her poor husband looking so miserable made her heart ache. Val usually tried to play off his discomfort, but judging by the look on his face, his tummy must have felt awful. Still holding one arm around his shoulders, she touched her other hand to his belly and was shocked at how taut and swollen it felt under the thick layers of clothing.

"Sheesh, Val," she said, concerned.

"I'll be fine," he assured her. As if to contradict him, his stomach let out a pained groan, straining against the unmoving clutter inside it. His lunch hadn't settled whatsoever, and it felt bulky and cumbersome inside him, pushing out against the walls of his stomach which seemed incapable of moving it along. He tried to force up a burp to release some of the unbearable pressure, but still found himself unable to, and Connie winced at the feeling of his belly tensing up under her hand.

She wanted to hurry him home, but he was moving slowly, rendered stiff and lethargic by the cold. That came as no surprise; Val always seemed to slow down in the cold. Being from Hell, his body just didn't agree with it. Connie supposed that effect extended to his digestive system as well and made a mental note of that for next time. She'd been with Val for a few years now, and there seemed to be no end to the little quirks that came with his not being human. Just when she thought she had it all down, something new would pop up--like his current case of cold-induced indigestion, for example.

"When we get home, I'm gonna run us a nice hot bath," said Connie, giving his belly a gentle rub.

"Mm, that sounds nice," he said sleepily.

"And you're not allowed out 'til your tummy feels better," she added. He smiled up at her.

"Fine by me."

It was a long, grueling walk, and Val's tummyache only grew worse as they went, but at long last, they made it back home. Connie hung up her jacket and went to turn on the water; Val opted to remain bundled up until it was ready. Connie slipped her arms around him from behind while they waited, holding him close and gently massaging his distended belly. He leaned his head back against her and held his hands over hers. His stomach gurgled miserably. He was finally beginning to warm up a little, but he still felt awful, and his stomach felt stretched to its limit after spending the walk bloating up from the agitation of moving.

Finally, the bath was ready, and the two undressed and climbed in together. It wasn't often that Connie saw Val undressed; even at home he tended to stay bundled up. Val, on the other hand, got to see plenty of Connie, but each time he took in the sight as though he'd never seen her before. She lay back in the tub and let him lie against her, holding her hands over his bloated tummy and rubbing gently. He let out a heavy sigh of relief as the hot water enveloped him, melting away the chill that still lingered from the outside.

With the warmth taking effect and Connie's hands working away at it, Val felt like his stomach was finally beginning to settle. Gently, she pressed into his tummy as she rubbed, trying to coax up some of the trapped air. She felt a gurgle rise up under her hand and he let out a small burp, followed by a soft little sigh of relief.

Gradually, the pressure began to subside, and Val's belly began to loosen up as his lunch finally digested. Connie was relieved to feel that awful tightness start to ease up; it made her own stomach ache just to feel how bloated his was. Now, he was beginning to relax along with his tummy. It was all he could do not to fall asleep right there in her arms, but he forced himself to stay awake until they decided to dry off.

Connie wrapped Val up in a fresh towel the moment he stepped out of the tub, and then, both as a treat and a precaution, she blasted him with the hair dryer. She couldn't help but giggle at his expression of utter bliss as the hot air hit his face. He smiled sleepily up at her and wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on her shoulder as she blew his hair dry. Reaching behind her, he plucked a towel from its hook and began to gently ruffle her hair dry as well.

The two finished drying each other off and got dressed in their pajamas, then decided to snuggle up together on the couch until Calvin came home. They sat with a quilt draped over their shoulders, and finally, Val did what he'd been dying to do all day: he curled up in Connie's arms and fell asleep.

[golden-rats]

There's a sting in the way you kiss me

Hah, guess who finally came around to finish this? And even still in time for whump month.

Words: 3k

Pair: SwissDew

Warning: Explicit, MDNI

Tags: Bloodplay, knifeplay, biting, bottom dew, top swiss, double handjob??

You can also read it on AO3 here

Swiss and Dewdrop were like water and oil. They didn’t quite fit together. Unless you knew how to make them mix. They did have similarities. They shared a lot more than either of them would be willing to admit. One could dare and say the ghouls could be gentle and loving to one another. When they were alone. When no one else looked. Hidden away from curious eyes. Safe in the comfortable solitude of their nests.

But not today, no. They were out for blood.

A stupid argument ignited a flame inside the fire ghoul. Spewing hateful comments. Sparks biting the air. Not a single thought spent on considering if any of his words hurt the man in front of him. Why would he? Swiss didn’t seem to hold back either. And before Dew even knew what was coming, he felt the cold metal edge of a blade right on the side of his throat. Making his movements come to an immediate stop. Preventing the knife from pressing into his skin any further. Managing to carefully swallow once before speaking through gritted teeth.

“What the fuck?” His eyes scanned the face of the ghoul who was so close by now. Having to look up a little, which annoyed him even more. Searching for any expression that would tell him what happened next. The multi ghoul could be near unpredictable.

“It seems like you forgot your place, little firecracker.” The words were sharp and clear. No room for doubt. He turned the blade ever so slightly, watching the shine trail along the blondes jaw. Careful not to puncture the skin just yet. His other hand came up to brush some of the long hair to the side, over his shoulder. Exposing more neck.

Dewdrop still clenched his jaw and fists. Ready to throw a punch whenever he got the next best chance. Tail whipping nervously, angry. He was almost vibrating, glowing with heat. All because that stupid Swiss turned him on with a gesture that was supposed to frighten and scare him.

“Care to remind me then, multi bitch?”

The cocky grin spreading on Dews lips was wiped away as quickly as it came. Feeling a hard tuck on his hair. Swiss burying one hand in it and dragging the lovely fire ghouls head back. The blade still delicately positioned at his throat. But now there was even more room. The taller ghoul leaned forward. Towering over him and bending down to his ear.

"I'll make sure you wish you'd never said those words, fire lily. Maybe you can wrap Aether and our gentle Rain around your fingers. But play a game with me and you will lose."

Hot breath ghosted over Dews ear. Sending a whisper of goosebumps spilling pleasantly down his spine. And at the next words, arousal struck his core.

"I will hurt you just to hear you screaming my name."

Teeth grazing his earlobe. The multi ghoul worked his way along the sharp jawline, down to his neck. Hunger painted over every inch of his face.

And Dewdrop? He was rendered defenseless. All the will to fight that was boiling inside him just moments before vanished. Almost melting into the touch. Cursing himself internally.

Swiss touched him with such arousal. Bleeding warmth into his skin. Causing shivers rolling over the fire ghouls body. Shaking breath and stuttering voice.

"F-Fuck you… You can't just-" A gasp echoing through the air as teeth sunk into burning skin. Pulling Dew closer to the multi ghoul. Warm blood flowing over the exposed shoulder. Pupils dilating as the heavy metallic scent filled their nostrils. Letting them spiral into a blood rush. Causing them to fully unglamor.

Growling and showing their protruding fangs at each other. Claws ripping at fabric. Papa wouldn't be too happy about having to get new stage clothes. They were in such a rush that neither of the ghouls had time to change into their own clothing or even get a breather at all. The argument started right at the end of their show, Dewdrop just couldn't let it slide. So he followed Swiss into his room back at the abbey. Which he only now realized what a mistake it was.

So here they stood. The fire ghoul bleeding from his shoulder, his shirt falling to the floor in pieces. And Swiss? He took a few steps back. Red liquid staining his lips. Eyes wide and completely fixed at his target. The arm that was holding the knife to Dews throat just seconds ago lowered. Giving the other an opportunity to breathe.

"Why don't you scream some more for me?" The knife was withdrawn from his throat, but before he could lose a word about it, Swiss already shoved him into the nest with a single forceful push. Dew merely winced. Feeling the adrenaline rush, touching the small wound near his shoulder. Licking his own blood off of his fingers. Gaze trailing over the ghoul in front of him. Watching as he crawled closer. The multi ghoul straddled him with both knees at either side of his legs. The knife pressed up against his throat again. Trailing down the surface of his chest, only the tip drawing fine red lines that vanished soon after. He wasn't out for pain yet.

Hissing, red sparking eyes frantically searched the others face for any clue on what he had planned next. Thin waves of smoke escaping Dewdrops nose and mouth. Tail flicking and wrapping around the fur which was laid out, covering the nest. It was the struggle between fear and arousal that he loved the most, those moments when the lines in between blurred, but never blurred enough to disappear.

That view satisfied Swiss greatly. Though he huffed through his smirk. "How am I supposed to be angry and feral at you when you look just so pretty like that?" It was clear he mocked Dew.

"Shut up asshole… Start dragging your knife down my chest. What do you have it for, huh? Give me little cuts every time I make a sound and let the blood drip everywhere so it smears all over while we finish." Bold. Without any fear left, the fire ghoul spit out his thoughts. The grin coming back onto his lovers lips, tugging at the corners.

The knife mapped across his skin almost carefully. Without drawing any blood, it danced along his chest. A sharp inhale from the one below. Anticipation. Swiss purred, teasing him. "Be careful what you wish for, my pretty fire lily…"

The first cut was made without much effort. A thin red line appearing on Dews pecs. A soft metallic scent filling the air almost immediately. The multi ghouls eyes widened with arousal. Nothing could stop himself from leaning down and licking over the bloody trail that made its way over to a hardened nipple. His swift, forked tongue flicking over the sensitive area. Feeling the cold material of a piercing ball mixing with the sweet red blood. A moan escaping both ghouls at the same time.

"F-Fuck…" Dewdrop threw his head back into the pillows and furs. His breath quickening as his heart rate picked up. The feelings he started to experience were more intense than he had anticipated.

"Mhm… Someone seems to enjoy himself." Swiss snickered. Letting a second cut follow on the other side. Leaving it to softly bleed. Watching the rich color against his skin. He felt the fire ghouls body react. Pressing hard against his pants, against Swiss' leg. Drawing another smirk on his lips. Rolling his hips to create some friction between the fabric of their clothes and their skin. Being pleased to hear a whimper Dewdrop desperately tried to hold back.

It was getting hot. His body temperature rising rapidly as he lost himself in pleasure. "Swiss… Please don't… don't make me beg." He turned his head to avert his gaze. Already being embarrassed to speak those words out loud. A shaking in his voice he'd rather overhear. But the other ghoul wouldn't have any of that. His free hand coming up towards Dews face. Grabbing his cheeks and forcing him to look at him. "What if I like to hear you beg…" Satisfaction was written in his grin. The thought of his fire ghoul being a flustered mess, begging for pain turned him on greatly. Causing him to tighten his grip around the knife.

Feeling the cold metal once more, Dew just had to press his body against it. It stung while simultaneously sending shivers all over his heated body. Adrenaline rushing through his veins. Setting off so many emotions that made him feel so alive. Right in this moment he couldn't feel any safer under Swiss mercy. As dangerous as this situation might be for others, as much he enjoyed it and trusted the multi ghoul completely. A sharp inhale. The tip of the knife broke his skin. The sensation making his dick twitch, already leaking. The ghoul on top of him smirking as he pressed his own groin against him. Drawing out a moan from both.

"We don't want your clothes to get stained, do we?" Swiss purred. He already ruined Dewdrops shirt before. So why stop now? Why bother with unbuttoning pants and stripping them off if one could just cut them? The outfit was ruined anyways, he'd deal with Copias complaints later. The blade trailed across Dews leg, with soft pressure up his thigh. The golden eyes of the multi ghoul wandered over the squirming body beneath him. Shortly resting on the flushed face. The darker red being a nice contrast to the amber colored skin. He was just so beautiful. And all his. For the moment at least. And he'd make it worth it. The knife ripped part of the seam right at the tight lap area, it was almost too easy. A swift movement and the fabric tore. For a brief moment he thought about just digging in with his claws and free his lover of the annoying barrier. But they were in no rush. The blade cut upwards, slowly. Revealing more and more skin as it went. A devious grin tugging at Swiss lips as he heard a soft yelp. The fire ghoul wore a tiny, black slip underneath. Barely covering what he had to offer.

"You're driving me crazy..." It came out as a breath. Dewdrop couldn't help but shudder once more. Feeling the lust in Swiss voice, thick with need. A hazy look in his eyes as he observed him. The sweet scent of blood still lingering in the air. Seeping out of him as his chest rose and fell quicker, heavier. His arousal grew painful. He wanted nothing more than Swiss to feast on him, hurt him. There was a time he would have been ashamed to admit this. Admit his rotten desires. "Show me how crazy..."

With this, the multi ghoul made a final move. Tossing the knife to the side as he leaned down. His forked tongue hungrily flicking over the reddened chest. Hands placed on Dews waist. Claws gripping him so tight, holding his hips so desperately. Digging into the skin until it felt warm at their tips. A whimper and grunt escaping the fire ghouls throat. It hurt. It made him so hard. Bloody claws massaging his flesh while a swift tongue licked as much blood off his torso as it smeared. Using his fangs to further mess him up. Biting and sucking with content growls. The bloodrush getting so much more intense the longer he went on. His own cock growing harder by the second.

Dewdrops hands came up and got buried in Swiss' hair. Tugging at it. Soft pinpricks of pain radiating from his scalp. Edging him on further. Blood was running over the smaller ghouls belly. Warm and wet. Dripping onto the fur beneath their bodies. His tail curled, breath hitching as his eyes closed. Squeezing shut with knitted brows. The pleasure was immeasurable. And they only just started. The stained hands wandered downwards. Finally ripping more of the already trashed pants in a desperate attempt to get them off. It got harder for the multi ghoul to contain himself. Growing feral. Exposing soft, fleshy thighs. Without missing a beat, his lips found themselves trailing towards them. Lifting Dews legs in the process, as he slotted himself between. Sinking into the nest. "So pretty..." His tongue left wet trails. His teeth red streaks. Kisses planted along the inside of his thighs. Small hickeys forming in an instant whenever more force was used. Dew was a panting mess at this point. His needy pleas filling the room. Spreading his legs so his multi ghoul could lay between them more comfortably. Trembling the closer he got to his core. Bitemarks paving the way. They felt hot, scorching his body. "Mn..." His dick reacting to every bit of attention, straining the tiny slip.

"You like that? Of course you do..." Swiss' breath ghosted over his skin. Tongue cleaning the latest mark before his body shifted. Supporting himself on his arms next to the small ghouls waist, bringing their faces near each other once more. His groin bucking forward, growling as he did so. Cutting off the blondes own sounds with a kiss. It wasn't gentle. Their lips crashed, a tongue immediately shoved into his mouth. Robbing the fire ghoul of any breath he had left. Dewdrops legs crossing around him. Resting on his lower back as he pulled him slightly closer with that. The multi ghoul couldn't form a single coherent thought anymore. It was pure instinct by now. Fueled further by the fact he carried some of the thick red liquid into their kiss. Filling both their mouths.

As to not drag it out even longer, losing patience himself, Swiss hastily opened the button and zipper of his pants. Shoving them down just enough to free his cock. He broke their kiss only to lick his palm, slicking it up before running a hand over his boner. Dew took a deep breath as soon as he got the chance to. Eager to continue right away, pulling the ghoul on top of him in again by his horns. Earning a guttural snarl. Horns were a sensitive part, especially for Swiss. So the fire ghoul ran a thumb over the smaller pair of horns. Breaking the others concentration. Taking advantage of this, Dewdrop bit into the thick lip devouring him. His claws moving from the smaller horn pair to the longer ones besides them. Rubbing the base where it connected to the skull.

The multi ghoul pushed the last bit of fabric to the side, freeing his lover so he could align them. Placing a hand around both their throbbing dicks. Pressing them together. Oh how good that felt. And his fire bug seemed to enjoy it as well. Judging by the high pitched whine. Dew held him in place by the horns, setting the pace of their kiss as if he had any control over it. And Swiss let him. He was busy himself, moving his hips. Purring low, a rumbling from his chest as not only his hand was still slick around them, he could also feel the heat radiating off of Dews cock. Making it so easy to lose himself in the sensation of skin grinding against skin.

The sounds they both made were honey sweet. Neither of them could get enough. Swiss' free hand found its way back to Dews hip. His thumb smearing some of the sticky blood. The slight sting made the fire ghoul involuntarily roll his hips. Sending a wave of pleasure through the others cock. "Oh fuck... Do that again baby..." The taller ghoul groaned between kisses. They both developed a rhythm after some thrusts. Grinding against each other as well as the pressing hand around them. Swiss moved his upper body so he could look at the treat below him. Wanting to look him in the eyes. See the flustered puddle he created. Huffing with every movement of his hips.

Dew let his hands fall from the other ghouls horns into the furs at his sides. Gripping them, needing something to hold on. Ever since they stopped kissing, his mouth hung open with pleased moans and little whimpers. Reaching to the side, Swiss got the knife once more. The fire ghouls eyes had a tinge of excitement in them. There was no time lost. The blade ran through wounds opened before, deepening them. Spreading smaller cuts over his abdomen, his chest, like he demanded from the start, with every new sound from his needy mouth. "S-Swiss... I can't-" It was clear by the tone in his faltering voice. He neared his limit. And so did the multi ghoul. "Let's do it together... Come with me." He didn't need much more than that. Allowing himself to fully give into the pleasure. The ecstasy that washed over him. Stars dancing behind his closed eyes, a shock spreading from his core throughout his whole body. An animalistic growl leaving Swiss throat. His claw squeezing around them one last time. A final thrust.

It was messy to say the least. Cum soon covering Dewdrops heaving chest, his stomach, flowing along his waist. The milky color stained pink as it met rich red blood. It was a beautiful sight. Brutal to most, perhaps. But not to Swiss. He saw his darling boy. Saw him so exhausted and in total bliss. Eyes rolling back as his orgasm shook his body. Fangs showing as he clenched his teeth. Nothing could compare to this.

"You alright fire lily?" The voice in Dews ear was gentle. Filling his head slowly. A nod was all he could manage right now. But that was enough to make the multi ghoul smile. One hand caressing his cheek. Smearing red onto it, into his hair. Chuckling he released their dicks. Taking another moment to collect his breath and compose himself. "You need a shower... And maybe some bandages." A soft kiss was placed on his forehead. The argument and aggression from earlier blown away. It happened, they both knew. At the end of the day, they still had each other. Embracing their company. As much as they couldn't be with each other, as much they couldn't be without.

[leiawritesstories]

Hey! So I’ve got an elorcan prompt I’ve been playing around with. So lorcans had a long day is tired and clingy and for once just wants to be looked after. So he tries cuddling elide and she’s a bit like who are u and what have u done with lorcan. So he starts whining and in the end elide gives up and just lets him cuddle her. He dose. On top of her. Like literally flat out on top of her (not crushing her though) and elides like aww my giant teddy bear :)

If u decide to do this please don’t rush! Also I love everything write it’s brilliant 🥰 happy late birthday by the way I hope u had an awesome day u deserve it ❤️

hello lovely anon! thank you so much 🥺🥺🥺 hope you have a wonderful day too 🥰

word count: 993

warnings: absolutely none

enjoy!

My Oaf

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Elide?" Lorcan's voice echoed through the house. "I'm home, baby!"

"Hey," Elide greeted her husband, her fuzzy socks muffling her footsteps as she padded into the entryway to greet him. "How was your day?"

"Long," he griped, bending down to kiss his wife. "Damn long."

"I'm sorry," she whispered against his lips, cupping her hands around his jaw. "Need anything?"

He sighed into her caress, draping his arms around her petite form, the foot-plus height difference between them not really working in his favor. "I'm hungry."

"We can fix that," she smiled, kissing his forehead before gently nudging him to stand upright. "Go ahead and shower, Lor. I'll have food when you're done."

"Can't I just eat you?" he whispered into her ear, sending a delicious shiver skittering down her spine.

"Later," she chuckled, giving him a little push. "Real food first, my love."

"Fine," he grumbled, pretending to pout as he kissed her once more before heading upstairs, shedding his suit coat and unbuttoning his collared shirt as he went. He barely paused to leave his work bag in the spare room they'd turned into an office before dropping his clothes on the master bedroom floor, a trail of discarded garments following him into the bathroom.

Which definitely would have looked incredibly suspicious to anyone who was not his wife.

He indulged in a longer shower than normal, allowing the hot water and steam to soak into his tired body and soothe his muscles--gods, he swore his damn job was giving him early-onset arthritis and muscle cramps. The mirror was fogged over with steam when he emerged, bringing a wry half-grin to his face, for he knew very well how he loved to tease Elide about the way her steaming-hot showers rendered the mirror useless. Toweling himself off, he pulled on boxers and sweatpants and an old t-shirt, craving comfort more than style. Besides, he was home, who else would be seeing him?

True to Elide's word, there was an array of deliciously mouthwatering scents floating from the kitchen when Lorcan entered, trudging over to the stove to wrap his arms around his five-foot-three wife from behind. At six-five, he was tall enough that her head settled neatly against his chest, making it a little awkward for him to rest his chin atop her head, but that hadn't stopped him yet.

"Hey, you," she chuckled, switching off the burner. "Right on time, love, everything's ready now."

"Must be the growing boy in me," he smirked.

Elide's nose crinkled as she laughed, the throaty sound filling the whole house. "You're incorrigible, husband of mine. I love you."

"Love you more," he returned, stealing a kiss.

"Stop that," she said, affectionately. "There's minestrone and bread, eat all you need."

"The way to my heart," he half-groaned, serving himself a generous bowl of the steaming hot soup the second she placed the pot atop the hot pad on the table.

"Feed a man and he'll stay with you forever, they said," Elide laughed, pouring him some water.

"They're right," Lorcan mumbled, practically inhaling the food. "Gods, this is good, El."

"Glad you like it." Her dark eyes softened as she passed him the ladle so he could have more soup.

He was completely full by the time he helped clear the dishes and load up the dishwasher, flopping onto their large sectional couch with a deep, contented groan. "C'mere, El," he requested, holding out his arms.

She chuckled as she came to him, settling herself on the couch by his side. "Need something, Lor?"

He draped himself atop her lap, widening his eyes. "I need you to hold me, love."

She huffed a laugh. "Babe, am I your pillow?"

"Yeah."

"You're gonna put my legs to sleep," she teased, stroking her fingers through his dark, damp hair.

He shrugged. "I've got ways to remedy that."

She stifled a wicked smirk. "And what if I want you to hold me, love?"

"Nooooo," he protested, shifting himself so he could loop his arms around her hips. "Hold me, babe."

She raised a dark brow. "First I'm your pillow and now you're pleading? Who are you and what have you done with my grumpy Lorcan, hmm?"

He stuck out his lower lip, the sight almost making her burst into giggles. Her massive grumpy husband, a pool of fake petulance and an insatiable need for cuddles. "Please hold me, El? Pleeeease?"

How could she resist him when he was that adorable? "All right, come here, you big oaf."

His grin was almost childish in magnitude. "Your oaf, my love."

"My oaf," she agreed, grinning at him. "I--oof!"

She hadn't expected him to half-tackle her into the couch, melting into her body like she was his own personal pillow, a sigh of pure contentment escaping him as he settled in, his head tucked into the crook of her shoulder. "Am I crushing you?" he asked, concern flickering in his onyx eyes.

"Not at all," she reassured him, skating her fingertips over the angled planes of his face, her soft touch gliding down to his shoulders as she looped her arms around her hulking husband. "Honestly, I kind of like having you draped all over me. You're like a teddy bear."

Lorcan raised a brow. "Teddy bear?"

Elide nodded. "A great big grumpy teddy bear."

He huffed a wry laugh, his eyes drifting closed. "Not an analogy you've used before, El."

"Fits," she shrugged, working her thumbs into the knots in his broad shoulders, massaging out the tension.

"Hrrmmmphhh." His incoherent mumble was agreement enough.

A soft, contented smile curled her lips as she held her massive hulking husband close, his weight and warmth atop her making her feel so safe, so protected. Within half an hour, he was out, his breathing deep and even and steady, his chest gently rising and falling against her.

Her grumpy teddy-bear oaf of a husband.

She wouldn't trade this for the whole entire world.

~~~ TAGS:

@charlizeed

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@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@nerdperson524

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@booknerdproblems

[superstition13]

So I have a University assignment due at midnight, which I have absolutely zero motivation to do, but it did inspire this little piece.

Distractions

//AKA Dabi Distracts You From Your Work 💙

Dabi x Female Reader (NSFW)

Genre: smut, porn with very little plot involved, fluff

Includes: biting, unprotected sex, hair pulling, cock warming, teasing, pet names, fingering, crying (pleasure), after care, Dabi’s piercings

You can’t tell me that Dabi isn’t the type of guy who would gladly use sex as a means of distracting you from your work

Especially if he feels as though you’re paying too much attention to it and not him

And if you’re a university student, he would definitely fuck your brains out instead of letting you finish an assignment that he knew you had due

Maybe you make the mistake of letting him sit in your desk chair while you sit on his lap, so at least you can be close to him

He’d start off with his chin resting on his shoulder and his arms wrapped loosely around your waist, but it wouldn’t take long for his hands to begin to wander

One hand would drift down to your inner thigh, and begin tracing feather light patterns along the exposed skin he found there with the tips of his fingers, teasingly close to where you really want him to touch you

Meanwhile, his other hand has slipped under your shirt and is now toying with your nipples

And while all this is going on, you’re still desperately trying your best to concentrate, but it’s becoming increasingly harder for you to focus on typing out an essay when your boyfriend’s hands are doing sinful things to your body

It’s when he starts trailing his lips along your neck, nipping, sucking, and leaving tiny bruises behind that you give in to his touches

Dabi’s hand leaves its place on your thigh and his thumb hooks around the waist band of the skimpy pair of gym shorts you’d decided to wear around the house that day

You raise your hips, just enough for him to slide them down to your knees, where they fall and drop to the floor

He pops open the button on his jeans, and you swear you can feel yourself getting just that little bit wetter at the loud sound his zipper makes in the otherwise quiet apartment

His hands go to your hips, and he lowers you onto his achingly hard cock

A small gasp escapes your lips, you’d been careful not to brush up against his dick while you were working, not wanting to encourage Dabi’s teasing

You’d known he was horny, obviously, but you hadn’t realised how hard he truly was

The two of you moan when he’s fully sheathed inside your heat

You expect him to start bouncing you up and down on his cock, but when he doesn’t you figure he wants you to be the one taking charge

Instead, his hands tighten around you warningly, and he keeps you seated firmly in his lap

“Don’t you have something to do, princess?”

“But I thought-”

“You thought wrong angel.”

You can practically hear the smirk in his voice, knowing full well that if you turn your head to look at him, you’ll see one on his face

“Consider this your punishment for ignoring me.”

Part of you can’t believe Dabi is making you finish your assignment instead of fucking you, especially when his cock is buried inside you

Another part of you can totally believe it, knowing all too well what a tease your boyfriend can be

He sits back and begins drawing lazy circles around your throbbing clit

Somehow, you manage to type out a paragraph, and you think that maybe you can do this

Until Dabi decides to flex beneath you, the seemingly innocent movement making his dick twitch inside of you, driving you crazy from the stimulation

You could have tears rolling down your cheeks as you beg him to bend you over your desk and just fuck you already

Instead, he’d have the audacity to coo softly in your ear:

“Come on baby girl, I thought you needed to concentrate?”

But the moment you finish that assignment and submit it to your Professor, he’s pulling out of you and standing up so fast that the chair he’d been sitting on falls over backwards

He quickly manages to get rid of the few articles of clothing the two of you have left between you

Before you know it, Dabi has you bent over the desk, one hand tangled in your hair and the other at your hip in a grip so tight that it's bound to leave bruises. He thrusts into you rapidly, setting a brutal pace. The sounds of skin on skin slapping together, and the obscene noise your cunt makes as he fucks into you fills the air of the studio apartment you share with him.

It takes an embarrassingly short amount of time for you to cum around Dabi’s cock, already pent up and overflowing from almost an hour's worth of Dabi teasing you. Your thighs are glistening as you let go, screaming his name so loudly that your neighbours are sure to file another noise complaint against the two of you come the evening. He releases his grip on your hair, trailing his fingers down your body until they rest between your thighs, and begin to draw circles around your clit once more. Gone are the slow, teasing touches from earlier his only focus is on making you scream out his name out for a second time before he cums. Dabi leans forward, his chest pressing flush against yours back, practically laying on top of you as he rails you without mercy. You realise that you can feel the cold metal of his nipple piercings pressing into your back, and the mental image it conjures makes you clench around him. Dabi lets out a soft groan, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“Fuck sweetheart, you have no idea how good you feel wrapped around me,” he pants, his voice breathy as it caresses your neck. “So good and tight for me, fuck. Come again angel, one more time, I wanna hear you scream my name.”

“God Dabi, yes! Yes! Yes!” You whine, trailing off into a hiss at one particularly hard thrust. “Right there baby, I’m so close, fuck!”

Without missing a beat, he shifts himself slightly, angling his cock in a way that Dabi knew would have you seeing stars and hurtling over that precipice you were dangling from. You were convinced you could feel the tip of him pounding against your cervix, dragging deliciously against your walls in all his pierced glory as he brushed past that sweet spot hidden inside of you with each and every punishing thrust. This new angle, abusing your g-spot while his fingers danced over clit, your nipples being teased as they were dragged and pushed across the surface of your desk; All of it was proving to be too much for you. That coil deep inside of you winding tighter and tighter, rendering you all but incoherent. Your tipping point however, was when your boyfriend sunk his teeth into the junction of your shoulder and neck. It wasn't quite hard enough to break the skin, but you knew without a doubt that he would leave one hell of a mark. The pain from his teeth sends pleasure arcing through your body like waves of electricity, going straight to your pussy, causing that tightly wound coil to snap as you threw yourself from the edge you had been hanging onto for dear life.

"Fuck Dabi, I'm coming, FUCK!" You sobbed, cheeks feeling suspiciously wet. The way your pussy fluttered around him was exactly what Dabi needed to find his own release, his pace becoming more and more erratic as he continued to thrust into you, working you both through the shared orgasm. Your name left Dabi’s mouth in a loud moan that was practically pornographic. He came inside of you, painting your walls with his seed, your combined release already beginning to seep out of you from the sheer amount of cum he was pumping into your cunt.

Eventually, his thrusts come to a halt. Your face was pressed uncomfortably against your desk, and you were pretty sure there was a pen trapped beneath you, but at that moment you didn't quite have it in yourself to care. Your mind was pleasantly fogged over from the post orgasm haze, and had someone asked for your name in that given moment, it probably would have taken you a few minutes to recall.

The first thing you became aware of, was Dabi pressing a series of gentle kisses to your neck, paying particular attention to the large bite mark he had left in the heat of the moment. It throbbed slightly, but not unpleasantly so, soothed by the delicate pressure of his lips. Slowly, he pulled out, a small noise of displeasure escaping you at the sudden emptiness you felt with the absence of his cock. He pulled you up, and guided you gently over to the bed where the two of you collapsed together. His arms encircled your waist, gathering you up against his chest. Fingers began to play with your hair as your awareness slowly began to return, Dabi's lips now pressed gently to the top of your head.

"That was..." you trailed off, still slightly breathless.

"Yeah." He agreed, tracing patterns along your skin.

"I'm going to need a shower," you winced, feeling his cum already beginning to dry on you. You already dreaded the idea of getting up to leave the bed, knowing that by the time you did, your limbs would be feeling like jelly and there would surely be an ache settled between your thighs.

"Not yet," your boyfriend breathed. "I'll get up and get us a towel in a minute. Just, lie here with me for now, okay?"

"Okay," you murmured against him, not needing too much convincing.

"Maybe I should help you with your work more often, princess," he suggested, but was met with no reply. Dabi craned his neck to look down at you, only to realise that you had managed to fall asleep in his embrace.

Here’s that tag you asked for lovely, hope you enjoyed my first attempt at writing smut.

@simpforsadbois 💜

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝒟𝒶𝓃𝒸𝓮 𝒪𝒻 𝒯𝒽𝓮 𝒟𝒶𝓂𝓃𝓮𝒹 (𝓓𝓮𝓶𝓸𝓷!𝒮𝒶𝓃) 𝓡𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓭

𝑃𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: 𝐷𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑛! 𝐶ℎ𝑜𝑖 𝑆𝑎𝑛 (𝐴𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑧)/ 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 (𝐹𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑒)

𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: 𝑆𝑚𝑢𝑡, 𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑠𝑡, 𝐹𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑠𝑦/𝐷𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑛 𝐴𝑈

"𝑯𝒊𝒔 𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚 𝒂 𝒉𝒊𝒅𝒅𝒆𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒅𝒆...

𝑫𝒆𝒇𝒚 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕’𝒔 𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒚, 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒌𝒆𝒓𝒔

𝑫𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒊𝒅𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒍’𝒔 𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒓𝒔.."

-𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑴𝒂𝒄𝒂𝒃𝒓𝒆 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒑𝒊𝒆𝒄𝒆: 𝑷𝒐𝒆𝒎𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑯𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑮𝒐𝒓𝒆

𝑹𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝑴𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒄

࿇ ══━━━━✥◈✥━━━━══ ࿇

The young raven haired man strolled through the crowds of other guests, taking a glance or two whenever something seemed to catch his eyes. But those glances were only fleeting. There seemed to be nothing particularly interesting in any of them.

He took in the scene before him: long, glittering ball gowns spun around, either in tune to the orchestra playing or in a presumptuous effort to be shown off to others. The male specimen differed no greater than their female counterparts, often standing up straighter or running a hand down their expensive and delicately tailored suits, except they were willing to take it a step further and actually discuss how much they paid for it.

Foolish mortals

He scoffed as he studied each one of them. It was truly sickening to him how much humanity had reached its lowest point. More frequently than not, he noticed how humans more than ever were vain, prideful, arrogant, egotistic and disdainful of anything or anyone who wasn't them.

It wasn't entertaining anymore. He recalls a time many centuries ago when he would get a thrill out of corrupting the innocent, driving the wisest of beings into insanity, destroying picture perfect marriages and making the purest of souls fall into an abyss of sin and darkness.

What was the point of trying to do all that now when some of them are destined for destruction since the moment of their birth? It truly irritated him.

Sighing he picked up a glass of wine from one of the trays carried around by the many butlers, poor useless souls as he liked to refer to them. He sipped on the crimson liquid, it's alcoholic venom doing nothing to him even though it was probably his 13th one already.

13? Was it?

He lost count. He shrugged it off though. He could drink it as if it were pure water, his kind were immune to this substance unlike humanity.

He snorted when he'd look at certain people's masks. While most went all fancy and elegant, others decided to have fun and make sure their attire stood out, in the form of red or black masks, adorned with either fangs, horns and overall rather gruesome or grotesque visages. Clearly they were meant to represent none other than his fellow kindred. He scoffed at their personification of him.

"Damnable bastards. If only you knew we are some of the most beautiful creatures to walk next to you....."

Perhaps that's the main reason why they all, man or woman, no matter their age, education or social status, end up ensnared by them. They were irresistible.

He was about to walk out of the hall, bored out of his non-existent soul, when a small titter caught his ears. Turning his face towards the sound, his breath was caught at the sight of an ethereal looking woman. His eyes scanned her from head to toe. She was absolutely perfect: from her luscious (enter color) hair, to her satin smooth skin, all the way down the her tempting figure. Her scarlet colored dress was impeccably on her, the deep plunge in the chest decorated with sequins and rhinestones daring men to not gaze at her cleavage. The waistline was fitted and then fanned out to accentuate her captivating body. Anyone would think this lady was sin itself, she certainly looked the part.

But San knew better. He could see and feel the aura around her. She was wholly pure, absolutely nothing to signify that she'd been stained or deemed unclean. She was simply an overly sheltered girl who no doubt wanted to fit in, be regarded as a mundane person like the rest of them.

Absolutely perfect if you asked him.

He sauntered in her direction, his devilish smirk plastered on his face. Sensing a pair of eyes, she tilted her head and made contact with the demon, now unable to look away from his alluring gaze. Even through the mask covering half of his face, she knew he was the most handsome man she'd ever see, albeit she'd never seen a lot of men in her life anyway.

Inexperienced and naive as she was, she let him stand next to her and take her hand. Lifting it up to his lips, he introduced himself:

"Choi San. Pleased to make your acquaintance my fair lady."

Delicately, he placed a kiss to her fingers, before releasing them from his hold. His touch was cold, but it sent a burning sensation up her entire arm and she found herself longing for his touch again almost instantly.

"L/N Y/N..." She replied in a voice that was merely above a whisper.

"A truly befitting name for such an angelic lady."

He chuckled to himself at his use of the word. If he was successful, which he always was, by the end of the night, there'd be nothing angelic left about her.

He extended his arm out towards her.

"May I have the pleasure of requesting the next dance?"

He made it a point to flash his dimples, knowing they only added to his charm and rendered women unable to refuse him. She stood up and linked her arm in his. He felt a shiver when she touched him, a feeling he only felt when his kind were in the proximity of a pure soul. It was precisely what he'd been craving for who knows how long. Definitely more than a hundred years since the last time he felt such a presence.

He guided her to the dance floor, the other couples already in position. If there was anything San prided himself on, it was his dancing. He's had years of experience to learn almost every dance that had been created, not only because it added to his attractiveness, but because it truly was one of the few mundane things he thoroughly enjoyed.

He especially loved the waltz they were currently playing. Waltzes were so elegant, refined, polished and were perfect when seducing someone. Intense eye contact, hands intertwined and his arm pulling her close to him, he could see a glimpse of the light blush peeking out underneath her ebony mask. She was flustered, exactly how he wanted her. They were practically gliding across the dance floor, perfectly in tune with the music playing.

"Did you come alone?" San decided it was time to strike up a conversation before going for the kill.

Y/N simply nodded, looking down somewhat ashamed. Instantly he knew she was probably not supposed to be here in the first place.

Interesting detail.

"Tired of sitting at home all bored?" He raised an eyebrow at her, but already knowing the answer.

"Can you tell?" She asked, wondering if he could read her mind.

"Well..... I can tell a lot of things about you..."

Releasing his hold on her waist, he lifted his hand to spin her around before bringing her back into his embrace, now closer than before.

"Things like what?" She wanted him to elaborate.

He hummed along to the music, making her impatient for his answer.

"Like..... how you want something exciting to happen tonight. Your eyes are practically for something, anything, that contrasts the dull life you've lived so far..."

She widened her eyes when he spoke those words. Was she that easy to read? That a mere stranger could notice that about her?

"And your countenance only serves to confirm my theory." He finished.

She sighed softly and loosened her grip on him, wanting to walk away, but he only tightened his hold on her. He smirked at her and leaned in, whispering dangerously close to her lips:

"Why don't you let me open up a new world for you?"

࿇ ══━━━━✥◈✥━━━━══ ࿇

The girl fluttered her eyes open, soft blissful pants escaping her lips. It had been a while since they left the mansion, where San took her to what she assumed was his place. Ruby red walls with matching velvet carpet, umber brown furniture, candles in every corner being the only illuminating feature in the dark room. The only exception was the bed. It was a pitch black color with white sheets and blanket.

Her dress had long been discarded in one of the chairs in the room, the only article clothing her at the moment being her cream colored garter belt with matching thigh high stockings. San thought they looked absolutely adorable on her. The visual only heightened his need to claim her, to corrupt her, to stain her forever with his unholy mark.

He was currently in between her legs, his mouth attached to her heat. Purple blotches were already decorating her inner thighs, courtesy of his teeth. He swirled his tongue around her clit before sucking down on it. He moaned and that action alone made her thighs tremble and close around his head. But he was having none of that. His hands pushed her thighs apart again, nails digging into her petal soft skin as he continued to ravish and feast on her succulent taste.

"S-San...wait...feels f-funny...." She stuttered out after a few minutes.

He knew exactly what she was referring to: she had about to have an orgasm. As much as he'd love to see her come undone on his tongue alone, he made an effort to pull himself back before the feeling got too intense. She let out a whine of frustration and looked at him with a puzzled look, unsure of what was happening.

San ran his thumb across her lip.

"Don't worry darling. I told you I'll open up a new world for you..

And I always keep my promises."

Unzipping his pants, he pushed them down his legs and threw them onto the floor. He smirked as he took in Y/N's astonishment as she gaped at his nude form, or more specifically, at his thick and long length. She seemed to hesitate for a minute, no doubt intimidated by his size, wondering how was that supposed to fit in her.

Climbing on top of her, he placed a reassuring kiss to her temple.

"I'll take good care of you darling...trust me."

His lips captured hers in a hungry kiss. His tongue slipped inside and danced around her mouth, almost like the waltz from hours before. His hands went to the back of her thighs, lifting them up and wrapping them around his waist. He lifted his hips up slowly, the tip of his cock pressing against her folds. He began slipping inside her, going inch by inch so she could get adjusted to the feeling, not wanting to scare her.

Although it took a lot in him to not just pound into her as he wished to.

She wrapped her thighs tighter around his waist, the foreign and stinging feeling of his intrusion causing her to hiss and cry out a little. San peppered kisses across her jaw and neck in an effort to soothe the pain, while his hands drew circles around her thighs. He stayed still until he felt her relax under him. She looked back at him, her face asking what to do now.

"I'm going to start moving now ok? Just relax and let yourself go."

He pulled out of her in a speed that was torturous to him. Then he slowly pushed himself back in, watching as she took deep breaths and looked down at where their bodies connected. The more she looked at him pushing in and out, the more it helped to relax and put her at ease. San knew it too. Her at first raspy breathing turned to soft, melodious moaning.

His hips snapped up and began rolling at a faster pace, causing his cock to hit the perfect angle in her. Her breath hitched and she gasped when the overwhelming feeling in her stomach started to return, building up inside her, threatening to be released any second now.

The demon could feel it too. He's had years of experience to know what her body was doing. He watched as her face contorted, trying to figure out what was happening.

"Sa-San..." She called out, trying to warn him.

He smirked at her.

"I know, I can feel you clenching around me. You feel so good. I can't wait to feel you cum on my immense cock."

His dirty talking only served to have her whine underneath him. His hand reached down and began toying with her nipple.

"So come on babygirl, let me feel you burst. I know you can do it.....

Give it to me."

He commanded those last words to her and just like he knew would happen, she shuddered under his body, her first orgasm in her entire life taking over her, a soft pathetic whimper being the only noise she could muster. It wasn't anything too loud or over the top, as San pretty much expected. It was her first time.

Besides.....there was plenty of time to have her scream his name.

He kissed her nose and smiled.

"You did so well darling. I'm so proud of you."

She blushed at his compliments. San pulled out of her, a proud evil grin plastered on his face as he noticed the sticky trail that dripped out of her onto the sheets: a few droplets of blood signifying he had deflowered her.

Now to corrupt her even more.

He picked her body up and spun her around, making her get down on all fours as he gripped her hips once again.

"Now it's my turn to have a little fun."

She let out a loud moan when he entered her for the second time, her body still sensitive from her first orgasm. San didn't bother to go slow anymore, he knew she could take it. He thrusted in and out of her at an inhuman speed, low moans and hisses coming out of his mouth.

"Fuck! I can feel you getting close again beautiful, your pussy is so fucking tight, it's practically swallowing my cock."

He chuckled when he felt her clench even tighter around him.

"Oh you like that don't you? You like being told you're nothing but a cockslut?"

She hid her face in the pillow in front of her, trying to hide the groan that just past through her throat. San however grabbed her by the hair and pulled her face back up.

"Answer me you little whore."

She yelped when his hand landed a harsh smack to her ass.

"Y-yes San!"

He smacked her once again before pulling her even more roughly and pressing her back to his chest.

"Right now it's Master. Got it you filthy slut?" He growled into her ear.

"Yes Master!" She cried out.

"Good little whore." He praised her.

He continued his merciless pounding, one of his hands trailing down her abdomen to rub her now swollen and pink clit. Y/N now had a few tears rolling down her cheeks from the overstimulation and she hung her head low.

"Uh uh little slut. None of that."

His free hand wrapped around her neck, forcing her to look up. He tilted her slightly to the right so she could see their sinful reflection in the mirror by the wall.

"Look at you. You look so fucking desperate, wanting to cum again on my cock. Is that what you want? To cum on master's cock? Then beg for it."

Y/N let out a series of whimpers, collecting all the strength she could to cry out:

"Please master! I want to cum, let me cum on your cock!"

San was loving this. It had been so long since he had such an innocent thing begging for him.

"How bad do you want it darling? Does Master's cock make you feel that good?" He teased her.

"Please Master I want it so bad! It feels so good, please don't stop!" Her words were barely incoherent now from how overwhelmed with pleasure she was.

Having being satisfied by her answer, he squeezed her throat, causing her to gasp and writhe her body as her second orgasm took over, far more intense than the first. He never slowed down his pace therefore making her convulse even more violently and shriek out a chant of his name, further heightening his pride and ego.

Very soon after, he cursed loudly as he reached his own climax, his cock spurting out his cum inside her, filling her up with his sinful load. She collapsed on the bed, worn out by the physical intimacy that just took place. San chucked darkly when not even a minute later she was completely passed out. That always happened. Humans couldn't handle having intercourse with a demon, they were practically insatiable and always passed out after a night with them.

Pulling the blanket to cover her, San ran his fingers through her hair. He admired her features for a few minutes. She was really beautiful, an ethereal beauty that only came once every century. Even in her now corrupted and tainted state, she was still the most alluring person he'd ever seen, and he's seen even angels themselves.

Now he knew he wanted her all to himself, completely for him and for no one else to own. He wasn't going to allow anyone to take her from him. He didn't have to worry about celestial beings claiming her, they wouldn't want her now. But other demons might want her.....

Getting up he opened a drawer and took out something he'd never imagine using in any lifetime. But there was always a first time for everything. He held up the gold contraption in his hand before letting it set over one of the flames from the various candles in the room. Once he made sure it was hot enough, he approached Y/N quietly.

It's a good thing she wouldn't wake up for a couple hours....

࿇ ══━━━━✥◈✥━━━━══ ࿇

Y/N squinted, trying to let her eyes adjust to the lighting. She felt a dull aching in her lower abdomen and legs, reminding her of the events that took place last night. She looked around, seeing that she was still at San's place, but he was nowhere to be found. She sat up and rubbed her shoulder, feeling some sort of burning and stinging pain.

She paused when she looked at the mirror and noticed something on the back of her shoulder. Getting up and trying her hardest to walk with her limp, she went to the mirror and turned slightly to the left. She froze when there was a bright red mark on her upper back in the shape of a pentagram with the letter 'S' in the middle of it.

She started freaking out. Was this some kind of joke? Where was San?

"Well good morning my dear."

Speaking of the devil, he appeared right behind her, making her whip around and face him.

"Did you do this?" She asked, pointing to the mark.

"I did. I think it really suits you." He smiled proudly.

"Why? Why would you do this?"

"Why you ask? It's simple."

He took a few steps forward. Leaning in, he gripped her chin.

"Because you're mine now and I own you."

She scoffed at his words, repulsed that he could do this.

"You're insane." She spat out.

"I've been called worse." He sat up straight again.

Y/N marched over to the chair on the other side and began grabbing her clothes.

"And just where do you think you're doing?" San crossed his arms in front of him.

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm leaving."

He let out a hearty laugh at that.

"Leaving? Oh no sweetheart. You're not leaving. You can't leave me." He told her.

"Yeah? Watch me."

She pushed him out of her way and headed for the door, but before she could reach for the handle, San appeared right in front of her out of thin air, causing her to step back in fear.

"What the-" She exclaimed.

"Let me repeat myself darling..."

San began to take steps towards her as she began to slowly retreat from him.

"I own you. You can't leave because you're mine now. I marked you so no one else takes you from me, in other words..."

He slammed his hand against the wall behind her when they reached it. She watched in horror as his dark orbs shifted into a fiery red color that burned deep in her soul.

"You're bound to me for all eternity...... and now you're a part of my world....and there's no turning back..."

࿇ ══━━━━✥◈✥━━━━══ ࿇

[majorasnightmare]

Please help me and my partner, @dantemoore0 , two queer trans/nonbinary 22 yr olds, find a place to live in 30 days.

Posted September 5th, 2019

I've neve made a donation post before so I'll just explain everything here

TLDR: Me and my partner, @dantemoore0 , both live with his mother in her apartment. After asking us to go unemployed for several months to avoid scheduling conflicts for things she wanted to do, she is now requiring us to both submit job applications and be hired by the end of today. We have 30 days to save money from that job before we are forced to move out. We have no money, no credit, and no friends nearby to live with, and the job she wants us to work at is one im incapable of doing so, due to symptoms of my mental illnesses. She is demanding we leave in 1 hour as of this post to apply at our McDonald's where she expects them to hire us on the spot and for us to begin working that job tomorrow.

Please, we need money to do literally anything about this situation. I'll put my paypal link under this paragraph. All money will be kept in paypal so that if the situation changes i can send it back to any donors without having to wait several days for my bank to process the transfers. Note: my paypal uses my legal name, one I'm normally loathe to put online, but emergency circumstances require it.

PAYPAL:

LONGER SUMMARY:

This morning, we were woken by @dantemoore0's mother, who gave us the news that we had to start working today and then move out in 30 days. Until this point, we had both been unemployed for several months, experiencing verbal abuse from her as she ignored our mental health issues and chronic fatigue and demanded we continously clean up her apartment, and regardless of how much we cleaned, we would be yelled at afterwards for not doing enough and for the house looking filthy anyways. She had been out of town the past 24 hours and we spent that time cleaning, and we didn't finish until 6 in the morning. My body is in so much pain I can barely walk, and I am incapable of standing for longer than a few seconds.

I am autistic, as confirmed by my mother, without any diagnosis paperwork as she declined so that it wouldn't show on my records and interfere with my future. I'm incredibly sensitive to touch and texture, and preparing food on the regular, quickly, is not something I am capable of doing. I am also in a massive amount of pain, and my anxiety is spiralling out of control to the extent that I uncontrollably spasm during panic attacks, which happen often now. These new symptoms are terrifying to me, and I've been regularly suicidal, which she claims makes me a selfish and disrespectful person to her. I have been continously going into shutdowns that render me completely non-verbal

I have $5 in my savings account, and $.83 cents in my checking, I have no credit card or any kind of credit history at all, and @dantemoore0 is deep in student loan debt he's been unable to make payments on, causing his credit to drop. He no longer qualifies for her previous credit union after being disowned from his formerly adopted family and has spent the past several years without a bank account.

We have 3 cats to take care of, which his mother got us after feeling guilty about the amount of stress she causes us, and we are almost solely responsible for their care and maintenance. We haven't been able to take them to the vet even once, and as such they haven't been spayed or neutered. Two of the cats are in heat and must be kept seperate from their male sibling, and one of those cats has a medical condition (we think) where she will remain in heat until she is bred or spayed.

I have no shoes to work in, because all I own are sandals that were gifts from friends to avoid overheating in the heatwave, and boots that were christmas presents from family. My last pair of work shoes was thrown out by her, and my partner's shoes are several sizes too big for me to wear

On top of this, our cats are running out of food. She refuses to get the kind of wet food they eat, and then, because they aren't eating the kind she does get, stated that she isn't going to get them more food because she's sick of the cats "wasting her food and money".

We have several tote boxes of belongings from when we moved in together that we have no place to store. We have no luggage for our things, and no dresser for our clothes, and no way to transport any of our belongings because neither of us has a license or a car.

We have a bug infestation thats from a combination of living above a Public Storage rental space (where she gets housing through her job), and my previous abusive family. As such, she made us throw away 90% of our furniture including our dressers and most tables and boxes. Most of our belongings now are expensive presents from friends and family over the years that, on top of being financially valuable, provide some of the only sources of emotional reprieve we have. If we continue living with her, she has said we would be required to throw those away for fears of bug infestation. These include both our TV's, all of our gaming consoles (2 PS4's, a PS3, a PS2, and a WiiU, all gifts) and most of our video games and DVDs.

We have no Wi Fi/Internet at our house, and rely solely on our mobile data to communicate and do things. We can only put in job applications on the rare times she can drive us to our college campus, where only one of us can apply at a time due to me no longer having my login info, because application websites crash on our phone even when using the desktop version.

My physical health is deteriorating rapidly. Both mine and my partner's mental health are going to hell.

Even after all that, I feel like I'm forgetting info. If i remember anything more, I'll edit this post, and put it under an Edits header, and date it.

For anyone who read this whole way and doesnt want to scroll again, I'll repost the link here. Again, all donations will be kept in PayPal until they need to be used, where I'll make a post to inform everyone that the money was spent and what it was spent on (with receipts as proof when possible). I want to be as reliable as possible on this

[itsbenedict]

Two-Faced Jewel: Session 6.5

A half-elf conwoman (and the moth tasked with keeping her out of trouble) travel the Jewel in search of, uh, whatever a fashionable accessory is pointing them at. [Campaign log]

Last time, Looseleaf and Saelhen fought their way to the top of the evil torture tower of the evil torture wizard- only to find out that the guy's been dead for at least a year, and that a dragon has apparently been squatting in his tower. Not content to wait another week to find out what this means, we had an off-schedule mini-session wherein the party finished exploring the unexplored nooks and crannies of Lumiere's Tower.

The first thing to deal with is the thing blocking their return down the stairs- there's a weird big metal coffin-looking dealie that waddled up to the stairs on the fourth floor, but couldn't chase them any further. Going back down, though... they could take a window, but they figure there's no way this thing could be a serious threat. It can barely move, after all- they can probably just push it right over!

Looseleaf pokes it with a stick, and its front splits open down the middle, revealing a giant maw of horrible spikes which snaps at her threateningly.

So it's an iron maiden! Adorable! Still doesn't have legs, or arms, so it's fine, right? They can just stand on the stairs and

whoops nope it's got animated canvas straps inside it that shoot out and ensnare orluthe like a chameleon tongue. okay. so maybe this monster is dangerous actually.

The ensuing fight makes heavy use of a mechanic in D&D called "called shots", where you can take disadvantage on an attack roll in exchange for inflicting some kind of injury on the opponent by hitting them in different specific body parts. They don't want to let Orluthe get shut inside and take a fuckload of stab damage, so they jam Looseleaf's quarterstaff in the doors, slice up its canvas straps, and by force of numbers manage to render nearly all its appendages impotent. The poor torture instrument has disadvantage on all its attack rolls after the called shots go through, and it can't land any more hits! The party eventually wears it down, and Looseleaf lands the finishing blow by scrambling its spirit.

All that's left in their way is the translucent red barrier blocking off the 3rd/4th floor stairs. Not finding anything on the fourth floor to shut it off, they just go via the window like before. Back down on the third floor, Looseleaf uses her spirit sight to notice that the barrier is connected magically to some runes inscribed on the central pillar- it looks like there's some sort of creepy puzzle involving stabbing creepy dolls with creepy doll-sized knives.

Not interested in risking whatever the consequences of solving the puzzle wrong are (given that they already have a way up and down), they move on.

While they're there, Saelhen decides to take another crack at the trapped chest she couldn't open earlier. Rather than risk the trap, she first spends some time expertly disarming the trap built into the lock, before working on the lock itself. A couple good rolls later, and they acquire the treasure! Which is... 60 gold pieces, and a piece of paper with a list of words.

Saelhen fails her Nature check, but Looseleaf recognizes the words on the paper as... the names of craters and other geographical features of the moon.

[WAR_FLASHBACKS.jpg]

No one's quite sure why a list of moon landmarks would be locked up in a highly-secure chest protected by a poison needle trap, but no one rolls high enough on Religion to puzzle it out.

Moving on down, they reach the second floor, which appears to be a laundry room of some sort. The sort where the irons and ironing boards and scrub brushes are alive, and appear to be washing the same clothes over and over and over to the point where most of them have been reduced to sparklingly clean rags. Seems like these animated household objects have been stuck on a loop for a good long time!

There's what appears to be an intact magical cloak hanging on a clothesline in there, but the party opts not to try and take it- doing so would likely provoke some protective laundry automatons.

Saelhen's plan to lure the scrub brush away from the washtub (for... reasons??) fails, since the brush doesn't seem to want to leave the tub- and it's visibly disappointed when Saelhen gives up.

So, they head down to the first floor, finally! As they head down, they're noticed by more animated knives... but it seems these ones have been tasked with cooking a delicious meal, which they happily serve up to the tower's guests! The wheelbarrow from before is there, too, supplying the kitchen with food. The only question is... who's been eating this stuff? Why is the table not covered in rotten, uneaten banquet, if the wizard's been dead? Who's been putting grocery money in the wheelbarrow?

Other things of note in the room...

Benedict I. (GM): The shelves around the center seem to be festooned with various trophies and awards. Looseleaf: trophies. what, like, participation trophies??? school trophies? piano recital trophies?? Benedict I. (GM): These would actually be somewhat recognizable to most of you- you've seen similar things in trophy cases at school. The plaques beneath them seem blacked out in various places- a lot of [REDACTED]. Looseleaf: warball champions of the 1034 school year? Benedict I. (GM): Often built into the plaques. Saelhen du Fishercrown: huh who redacts a plaque Benedict I. (GM): Like, there'll be a flat section of the plaque painted black like it was engraved that way

Looseleaf, with a 20, Investigates a bunch of pertinent information. For instance, a diploma:

Hal Lumiere, PhD in [______]. Blacksky University, Department of Restricted Arts

It appears Hal Lumiere was an alumnus of Blacksky's School of Restricted Arts- the same place Vayen is from. Lumiere was apparently something of a darling there, considering all the awards- but no one in the party has ever heard of him. Except maybe a certain someone who's not telling.

Looseleaf also finds some unopened mail! One is illegible, written in Abyssal, the language of demons.

(Lore note on demons: demons are just like other monsters- evil things that come up from below the mountains and cause trouble. They aren't generally aware of their origins beyond waking up in a deep cave, usually, and aren't motivated by much except causing conflict and hurting people.)

Another letter is written in Common, with just plain awful handwriting:

"hey Lumes why tf arent you home today u fuckin flake ass fairyboy. who am i supposed to get that dank good ouch from if youre off on magic adfentures. this months number shits are: 14.3 6755 304° and then the little bar thing was on the green side but wobbly. now gimmeeeeeee"

It's a bit of an enigma- but even more enigmatic is the third letter Looseleaf finds, written in a hand Looseleaf recognizes. Looseleaf knows who this letter was written by.

"Dr. Lumiere- find enclosed the new spirit hollowing diagrams and the corrected sigil of Aaaaaaagh. This should satisfy our agreement, so I'll leave you with a warning: the lesser gods are not to be trusted." "Yes, their revolution is our best shot at the Project- that much is obvious, barring a road to apotheosis. I understand we need to work with them. I doubt we'll have further contact, so I won't ask you not to reignite this argument- but insofar as it's at all relevant to you in the future, I favor your approach over Kron Green's." "But again, they are not to be trusted. The enemy of our enemy wishes mainly to supplant them, and despite their alliance, not all of them share the same aims. In particular, the one you've taken an interest in seems utterly hostile to the Project. " "If we are to impact the cosmic boardstate, we must play the game. Trust is the abdication of discovery. Choose your allies carefully." And then it is signed with a mark. The mark is of a book, facedown in the way that ruins the spine, sort of shaped to look like a skull. And the initials "Y.T." Looseleaf: youtube. the villain of our story, youtube. Saelhen du Fishercrown: trust is the abdication of discovery, what a goddamn motto Looseleaf: oh my god she's being so edgy well, that is characteristic of her.

She also finds what appears to be a trophy- but the trophy is shaped to look like a globe. Not of the Jewel, but of the moon. Obviously, they take it.

Some experimentation with the moon trophy seems to indicate that the locations marked on the paper from the chest draw out a sort of connect-the-dots pattern, which might be used elsewhere for some purpose. Whatever the pattern is meant to be used for, there's no indication of it here. All that can reasonably be inferred is that it has some connection to the School of Restricted Arts.

Meanwhile, the bookshelves have a few more things of interest. Amidst textbooks on neurology, magic, and speculative religion on a lower shelf, they find a hand-bound book that seems out-of-place.

Benedict I. (GM): Inside, it appears to be a diary. "i m choss n ths iss MY BOOK," it begins.

It appears to span several years of diary entries, from year 259 to 266- ending seven years before the current date, 273. The handwriting gets progressively less atrocious, and the entries are very sporadic- riddled with apologies to the diary for forgetting to write in it.

Benedict I. (GM): Choss, apparently, is a little girl who grew up in this tower. Initially she was very fond of her dad, the owner of the tower. Looseleaf: initially, huh. that's... a... great sign. Benedict I. (GM): Dad is a cool wizard who does fun magic all the time, which she helps with! She is very proud of how much pain she can withstand, and she's developed this sort of self-image as a connoisseur. Of pain. Saelhen du Fishercrown: hell Saelhen's face is getting progressively... stiffer, as she reads. Not angrier, per se, just... flatter. Benedict I. (GM): She helps out with the experiments except for not being allowed to take the hoods off the subjects in the lab. Looseleaf: Lumiere what the shit. Benedict I. (GM): And when there's no subjects, she fills in, and does a very good job, the best job. There's an entry describing how she designed a security system for her dad- she made some dolls and dad enchanted them so they open the door if you stab them right! She's very proud of it. You now know the order of stabs to disable the barrier. Anyway, the later entries seem to represent... entirely standard teen angst. Looseleaf: Hmm. Benedict I. (GM): Dad is being boring and not letting her do the experiments she wants to do and not letting her visit the towns and ugh dad. She gets fed up with him, and the last entry is about how she's leaving to go start her own life in Wheat. Looseleaf: REALLY NOW. Saelhen du Fishercrown: WELL. Looseleaf: ...god, maybe those rumors about wheat being full of insane murderous murder-os weren't, wrong. Saelhen du Fishercrown: if she is in fact a baby dragon Looseleaf: which is not at all guaranteed, by the way.

If you recall from a few sessions back:

To speak with a dragon is to be condemned to some sort of great misfortune, brought about by your own hand. You know the Simurgh from Worm? Listen to its song for too long, and you become sort of a sleeper agent of self-destructive carnage? It’s like a diet version of that. Whatever path your conversation with the dragon puts you on, it’s invariably bad for you, somehow. The metallic dragons, who’re ostensibly “good”, will still ruin your life in some way just by talking to you, even if your immolation does some good for the world on the way out. Nobody wants to talk to a dragon.

Also discovered in CHOSS BOOK is a brief account of a time she had to go to the basement, using the secret entrance underneath... something. Looseleaf almost immediately checks under the table they're sitting at, and finds... yep! A trapdoor leading to the basement!

Next time: the basement awaits!