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eros-kisser · 5 months

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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ₊ ⊹ 𝐏𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐄'𝐒 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆.

pantalone x sub!mreader. nsfw. dubcon(?), drugging

“Enter.” A rich voice, one that had been expecting your arrival. When you gently opened and closed the door shut behind you, you felt dark eyes gaze at your exposed body, your open skin visible through the clothing you wore. The clothing he requested you to wear. “You’re late.” His words were cold, but his tone wasn’t, and was instead one of much amusement.

“I-I’m sorry Sir-“

“Pantalone.” He strided, standing up from his desk, which sat at the wall of his expansive room. It was darkly lit, and with only a few vague shapes to go off by, you could assume this was his quarters. A shiver ran through your body. “Why so nervous? I told you I’d please you tonight, did I not? All you have to do,” he reached where you stood now, and cupped your chin in his palm. “Is relax.”

And then he began his craft. A play for his eyes. “Strip.” There was a hint of a cruel smile in his voice, but he had hid it well. You eyes shook as you flinched at his order, shrinking. "Are you deaf? That was a command, and I expect you to follow through. Though..." He closed his eyes in a smile, hiding his dark gaze. "If you aren't able to, I'll do it for you."

You shuddered, opening your mouth to speak, but the man had already determined your answer. He forcibly grabbed your arms and threw you onto the bed, where you landed with a soft thump. The area where he had gripped your wrists stung, something that was sure to bruise. "S-Sir, I-!"

"You talk too much." Something entered your mouth abruptly, his fingers, covered in the fabric of his gloves. "Suck on it."

He didn't give you much of a choice. He forced his digits into your mouth, and you weakly swirled your tongue around them. His other hand roamed your defenseless body, tearing away at your clothes and disposing off them. When he finally took his fingers out of your mouth, a string of saliva trailing from your lips, you glanced down at saw how exposed you were, fully naked with nothing to hide in front of Pantalone's sharp gaze. Suddenly finding it rather hard to breathe. Pantalone seemed to notice this, and a knowing smile graced his lips. "Ah, has the drug finally kicked in? About time. While this isn't exactly my preference, it's better than watching you flail about as you desperately try to take me. Don't worry, it's not all that potent. You should still be able to feel everything."

Take... what? Your mind had grown hazy, and you could barely register Pantalone taking his gloves off, revealing his slender, pale hands, and spreading your legs apart. Your stomach felt funny... how strange... and your body was burning.

"It's... hot..." You whined, unknowingly bucking your hips against Pantalone's fingers, which were busy pumping in and out of you, coated in your slick and spreading your hole.

"Is it?" With a smirk and a quick glance at your member, he slowed his fingers, earning a huffy moan from you. "Come now, let's not be too impatient. After all, I can't have you cum when I haven't even put it in yet, can I?"

"Ah...?" Your throat felt dry, and you gripped at the sheets in a frantic attempt to sit upright. It was useless. His held onto your hips as you continued to thrash, movements gradually slowing, and kept you locked in place as his free hand undid first his coat, which he threw off the bed in a careless fashion, and then his pants, which he unzipped, revealing how hard he had already gotten. He was big, and you struggled against his grasp once more at the sight. Tears filled your vision as lined himself up to your hole, breath shallow. "N-No, it's too- It won't- Ah-!"

Your complaints were cut short as he entered you all at once, giving you no time to adjust as he thrust into you relentlessly from behind, blurring the line between pain and pleasure, and you desperately clawed at the mattress, gasps quickly turning to pants. It hurt, he was going to rip you apart, you were almost sure of that - yet soon, your pained noises turned into moans, and the dick that was sliding in and out of you filled a once empty you full.

A hand snaked up your body and toyed with your nipples, flicking and teasing them, only eliciting another shameful sound from your mouth, and you trembled under his touch. It was too much, he was only going faster now as he reached his high, your chest was sensitive and the wet sounds of his body slamming into yours resounded across the walls, yet the fear that someone would hear you had already faded under the insurmountable pleasure that coursed through your body. Your own dick stood upright, leaking cum from your previous... how many... orgasms...? There had been too many to count, each time you climaxed, sparks flying in your vision.

Pantalone's face was flushed the slightest, his brows furrowed, but he didn't even seem exhausted, how was that possible? You were shaking, light-headed, and could barely move your hands to grab at his wrists in a futile effort to whine at him to stop. As good as it felt, the pleasure hurt with how sensitive you had grown orgasm after orgasm... or was that just a lie that you were telling yourself to remain sane? This couldn't have been normal had it? Sir Pantalone, as you called him, was just your superior in your field of work... despite that, he had been the one to reach out to you first, offering you a position under him, instead of where you had been working under general forces previous. A big promotion, sure, and now you cursed yourself for it, tears slipping past your eyes and staining the bed sheets as you mouth remained ajar, sounds of your shame being jerked out of you. You bit your tongue in an attempt to silence yourself, but instead felt stinging. Pantalone was staring down at you in earnest glare, his hand flush where he had slapped you across your chest.

"Don't be quiet. It's better if you're loud, darling."

Darling?

His pace grew more erratic, the bed creaking with his every brutal movement, and you swore you could see where his dick pumped in and out of you - a bulge in your stomach, and an unfamiliar emotion you couldn't describe surfaced. Either way, he had picked up his pace once more, and at some point discarded his glasses, removing any obstruction to witness his dark eyes, gleaming sinisterly. It was hot, hot, and you could feel his touch like electricity spread throughout your body... were you going to cum again? Was there anything even left to cum?

Your thoughts slipped away as his teeth found his way into your neck, pressing deep kisses and lapping at your unmarked skin, and that's all it took for you to wail, sending you right over the edge, and you felt Pantalone grow even harder in you, shoving in once, twice, before releasing his ropes of cum, painting your insides white.

Your chest heaved with every breath, vision already flickering as sound faded in your ears. "I-Is... Is it over...?"

His laugh was cold, cruel. "Oh darling, surely you didn't think we'd stop after just one round?"

©eros-kisser.

> if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging as it supports me a lot as a new blog! thank you !! still a lil inexperienced in writing smut so feedback is very appreciated :) thank you for reading!

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uravitypng · 9 days

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tsukishima kinks?

or choso kinks?

or aizawa kinks?

(sending a few options cause i’m sure you’ve already gotten these suggestions <3)

i've already got a tsukishima one i need to write but .... choso !!! aizawa !!! oh my god!!!! i've never written anything about either of them and i am sooo ready for this♡

choso

mommy/mummy kink- choso is a switch but leans more over towards sub. choso is very whiney in bed and is someone who becomes pussydrunk very easily when he's sleeping with you. during one of these pussydrunk moments he calls you mummy. he always has had the urge but resisted, worried that you won't like it but when he said it and you held onto him even tighter, wrapping your legs around him, a strangled groan came out of his mouth and he speeds up. as he comes he calls you mummy again, "gonna cum, gonna cum! fffuck mummy."

mutual masturbation- loves watching you touch yourself and will commit every gasp, touch and movement you make to memory for if he's ever alone for the weekend without you and most importantly for future reference with you, 'so touching her there makes her moan even louder huh' 'oh that made her toes curl' 'her body's shaking so much'.

choso loves watching your body writhe and squirm as you make yourself come while he's stroking his cock with rapt attention. he's inexperienced but his confidence about how good he is in bed gets boosted while mutually masturbating when you beg for more. beg for him. "please choso, please baby, i need more. want your cock s'bad. need you to touch me."

overstimulation- you milking him multiple times in succession without stopping?? yeah he likes that. he likes when you have control over his orgasms. he simultaneously wants more and wants less. bucking his hips up to meet your touch one second and the next trying to shuffle away, overwhelmed in the best way. tears filling his waterline, fists grabbing onto the sheets tightly. "t-to much!"

"i think you can take it cho"

edging- i mentioned before that he likes you having control of his orgasms so that also involves controlling when he gets to come and how many times you will deny him. "i can't anymore baby, please let me come. i've been good!"

aizawa

bondage- uses his binding cloth during sex!! tying you up in the bedroom and then leaving you there for awhile to do something else just to keep you waiting in anticipation. aizawa ties up your whole body and will also tie up just your arms and wrists on occasions too. he loves restricting your movements and watching you struggle against the binds. "there's no use struggling, you're not getting out until i want you too and before that i'm going to make you come on my tongue again."

daddy/sir kink- aizawa has an authorisation kink in general. loves taking charge and having you call him sir and daddy (sometimes even master) he will also sometimes call you kitten in response to your names for him. "sir please let me touch you! i'll be good! just let out of these binds."

choking kink- whenever he sees your eyes roll back and your breathing becoming gasps it makes him harder than he already was. his large hands wrapped around your throat, keeping you on the edge of consciousness. "so beautiful like that kitten, keep clenching around me."

somno- it's not a surprise that this is one of his kinks is it? all consensual of course but being woken up by you during sex is the best way to wake up. he also enjoys waking you up too but prefers it when he wakes up to you, especially when you're sucking his dick. his tired gravelly voice startling you as well as he gentle but firm hand on your head guiding you up and down. "fuck sweetheart, keep going just like that." you hum around his cock, letting you know you heard him. becoming wetter at the sound of his voice.

dry humping & thigh grinding- loves you being half clothed, only having underwear on, as you desperately hump and grind on him. it's a real power trip to watch you try and orgasm without any help as you frantically and pathetically rub yourself against him while he's still fully clothed and has no intention of changing that

#these are their kinks they told me on our first dates <333 #i hope you like this ♡#♡ choso #♡ aizawa #♡ mine / writing #♡ lana's letters #choso x reader #choso smut #jjk smut #aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa x reader #aizawa x reader smut #bnha smut

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gh0stswh0re · 1 year

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just thinking about free use with cod guys, and how they'd treat u like a cum dumpster while also spoiling u rotten 24/7. f! reader, this deserves a real fic but i'm kinda lazy at the moment (having a tummy ache but i'm being very brave about it 😼😼 /j)

simon fucking ur brains out - holding your wrists above ur head in a tight grip and ur legs closed around his waist. absolutely no harmony in how his hips lose the steady rhythm as his pounding gets quicker, grows more primal as if all he cares about is chasing after his own pleasure, and how his kisses get rougher and his hand lets go off ur wrists - a faint bruise already appearing in the shadow of his fingers - just so he can grope at ur breasts, fingertips pinching the sensitive nubs. and then soap walks in, unbothered like it's ur normal monday-to friday activity - only when u moan, loud and shameless, begging simon to allow u to cum (whatever it took - pleas of "please, sir, 'been so good" to shallow promises of how you're gonna suck his dick first thing in the morning), johnny's eyes shot up to u, carefully watching u as pure ecstasy drowns out ur senses, and u feel bare and naked and so fucking sore. he'd simply walk over to the couch, his palm groping the bulge in his pants as he sits down. simon continues with lazy, slow thrusts - he has a habit of fucking u through his climax, up until the both of u feel his dick growing limp inside ur fluttering cunt.

sucking könig's dick (you'd do it under the table - the sight of u hidden from all the other men, only the wet noises of ur mouth betraying ur sinful activities - but since the man's like 6'10 his legs don't rlly comfortably fit under the table), his hand gently petting ur head, as he drowns in u praise - thanking u for being such a good girl slut, taking him all in - deep in ur throat - despite the struggle being obvious as tears fall down from the corners of ur eyes, snot running down ur chin as u nearly sob. apart from that, all the other men in the room seem to ignore u - occasionally readjusting the tight fabric of their pants, smirking as they listen to ur pathetic whimpers.

after a while, after every guy's been sucked dry, they get bored of their tiring discussions of the ten new ways of making things go kaboom - and they all start paying their full fucking attention to u. laying u down the wooden table, watching u hiss as the cold surface hits the hot skin of ur back. and for a moment, the whole room goes silent, as they all admire ur fully naked body - ur chest rising with every breath (filled with pure anticipation), the hickeys and bruises down ur ribcage slowly fading, the bitemark on ur hip being price's handiwork (and fuck, he's damn proud of it, too) and how ur pretty little cunt glistens with the wetness of ur arousal - u are utterly perfect, but that doesn't protect u from them ruining u - physically, mentally, spiritually cuz there's no way u are seeing the gates of heaven after tonight; too many sins committed, far too many stutters of lord's name in vain. gaz would be the first one to touch u, slowly gliding his hands up and down ur sides, quietly hushing u "i know, doll, i know" bringing his hand down ur tummy, ghosting over ur cunt "-'s gonna be alright". a minute or two pass by, and he already has two fingers inside u, hitting that spot inside u perfectly before he's given the clear orders - "flip her around, on her belly" price muffled under his breath, groaning as he sees a perfect view of ur perfect ass. "small circles, she loves those" ghost jumps in, his dick already in his hand, his thumb swirling around the leaky tip.

alejandro eating u out fucking u with his tongue, his needy mouth swallowing ur arousal as his fingers pump in and out of ur clenching cunt. ur hand entangled in his hair, as soap forces two fingers inside ur mouth - slapping ur cheek lightly each time the pressure becomes too much and u can't help but bite down on his digits.

thigh riding with ghost - sitting down on his lap, and him noticing u growing impatient, restlessly switching positions and unintentionally bumping ur ass back onto him. one hand grips ur hip, his knuckles turning white, as he flexes the thigh muscles, encouraging u to move. he'd watch u picking up a higher speed, and u could have sworn ur wetness already leaked through ur panties, soaking the fabric on his clothed thigh. feeling his erection borderlining on pain, he'd place both hands on u, stopping ur movement altogether - "off, now" ordering u to sink down to ur knees and to hump his boots - like a bitch in heat. he'd be genuinely scared of bumping his hand against his dick, of cumming right then and there - just the sight of u grabbing at his leg for the smallest bit of support, while quietly begging him is enough to make him fold.

stealing hoodies but make it 5x or 6x lol. no complaints from any of the guys, except simon who playfully pulls on the strings, teasing u. könig just sighs the moment he sees how his large shirts hang off ur small frame.

nothing but utter respect and adoration for their princess, their queen - rarely anyone ever dares direspecting u. but if that creepy drunk guy at the back of the bar grabs ur ass as u walk by him ... he's a dead man, long time goner, before the morning sets.

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iwrotetheilliad · 1 year

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Shut up & Drive

♡ You and Reo try so hard to have moments to yourself, but the paparazzi say otherwise. Eventually, Reo gets sick of it.

Genre: P WITHOUT P ;)

CW: Slight exhibitionistm (you can see the rest of the world but they can’t see you) Y’all get it on in the back of Reo’s limo, fingering, dirty talk, dry humping a little. I’m pretty sure that’s everything, but please be wary cuz this is smut!

Characters: Fiancé! Reo Mikage

A/N: i was in a mood this morning, had THE MOST Reo brainrot one could possibly have and made this! I didn’t proofread so if autocorrect is a bitch and changes this then that’s not my fault :p. Also, tumblr was like “no, you can’t post this,” but imma try again. Bon appétit my loves!

“Keep walking sir,” Reo’s head bodyguard commands as he and his team fend off the mob of people desperate to catch a glimpse of their favorite soccer player.

Reo has his arm slung over your shoulder and his other hand clutching the arm closest to him. Even though you’re not the one the public is after, your fiancé never fails to make you his number one priority. When you two finally make it through the swarm of fans and flashing lights, Reo guides you into the car before him.

Suddenly, he feels someone grab his shoulder. For a brief moment he assumes it’s his body guard, but when the stranger starts pulling, the purple-haired boy’s fight-or-flight instincts kick in. He shoves the hand off of him and turns around, offering a withering glare to whoever was the culprit.

“Fuck off,” he growls before climbing into the car after you.

“Are you ok?” you ask once he slams the door behind him.

He’s silent for a moment, before turning his body towards you. Reo shuffles closer towards you and nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. His arms snake around your waist, and pull you closer to him, so that your body is half in his lap.

“I hate them so much,” he groans into your neck. “All I wanted was one moment with you and the world decided to make me its bitch.”

“I know,” you mumble comfortingly, bringing your hand up to stroke his hair.

The car starts moving and the two of you stay in that position. Eventually, Reo knocks on the divider. “Play some music,” he sternly says, and just like that, the speakers come to life. After a few moments, Reo commands again, “Raise the volume.”

“But sir-”

“Do it,” he commands again.

The volume is promptly raised. The two of you continue sitting in silence until you feel Reo’s soft lips pressing against your neck. At first, he just feathers small pecks all over, but soon, he starts to suck gently at the most sensitive part.

“R-r-reo,” you stammer. He doesn’t stop what he’s doing, instead he just sucks harder. Subconsciously, your hips begin grinding against his thigh.

Reo leaves the first mark he made and starts a new one further down your neck. His hands start guiding your hips along his thigh. When he finishes crafting this new mark, he hums as his iron grip stops you ministrations in its tracks. You let out a whine as you crane your neck to get a good look at him.

“Mean,” you mumble as you go in for a kiss.

Reo’s hand leaves your hip to grab a handful of your hair. He yanks your head back after a few seconds of making out, a string of spit lingering between your lips.

“Do you want me?” he asks lowly. You eagerly nod, and he scoffs, “Even though our driver can hear you? Even though I could open these windows and let the world get a view of my pretty little girl?”

“I want you Reo,” you confirm, beginning to roll your hips again.

Reo lets out an animalistic groan as the curve of your ass starts to brush up against his cock. He rests his forehead at the back of your neck while muttering, “You’re such a little whore aren’t you? You get off to the idea of the rest of the world watching us huh? You want the rest of the world to see those pretty little tits as you ride my fingers?”

“Please.”

“Well the rest of the world doesn’t get to see how beautiful you are when you’re completely fucked out, only I do,” he growls protectively. “I’m gonna watch you fall apart over my fingers like the little slut you are.”

With that, Reo’s hands snake down beneath your skirt’s waistband. He doesn’t go beneath your panties though, instead just rubbing your clit through the thing fabric.

“Already so wet,” he coos, “such a good girl, ready to take my dick whenever and wherever.”

You nod eagerly, and stop getting off on your lover’s thigh. Instead, you hungrily grind into Reo’s hands, letting your panties get even more wet. You pull your shirt over your head, and lean forward a little to undo your bra clip. Finally, you relax back into your fiancé’s body, snaking an arm up around his neck.

Reo murmurs praises into your ear, before finally, he can’t take just feeling you through the fabric. When he breaches the band of your underwear and finally puts his fingers in you, you moan. It’s so loud and shameless, but you don’t care. Reo is pushing his fingers in you, and it’s all so, good! Your hands move to your chest.

“Reo!” you cry when he curls his fingers in just the right way. “Oh my god, please don’t stop, please- yea right there- ahh, ahh, ah!”

Your fluids spill all over his fingers as Reo soothes you. “That’s it my love, that’s it,” he whispers into your ear as you squirm in his lap. You feel your body physically relax, a result of the sudden pleasure leaving your system.

You take time to relax, and smooth out your breathing, as Reo uses his free hand to grab your discarded shirt. Reo adjusts you so that now, your legs are shut and both are hooked over his thighs. You lean against him after pulling your shirt over yourself. The music is still blaring, but Reo pulls out his headphone and hands you one while putting the other in his own ear. For the rest of the ride, you fall asleep curled into your soon-to-be-husband.

Hopefully this works now!

#reo mikage #mikage reo #bllk reo #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #blue lock reo #reo mikage smut #reo smut #reo mikage x reader #reo x you #reo mikage x you #bllk smut #blue lock smut

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christopher-bangnaldoskzz · 9 months

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Soft Dom Bangchan x Female Reader Sub!

Genre: 🌶️🌶️🌶️

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: Oral Sex (female receiving) Fingering , protected Sex, Unprotected sex. sexual content included I am going to say this is strictly 18+ MDNI fan fiction.

Summary: A sub needs a dom, a dom wants a sub but what happens when feelings overlap with contracts and love creeps in? Will a contract remain only a contract? Or are emotions like love too hard to keep in check?

A/N: would also like to dedicate this story to @daceydeath , thank you for always putting up with my deluluness, also thank you for putting up with my drama fill life honestly. I wouldn’t be still writing if it wasn’t for you encouraging me. Also thank you so much for writing my summary xx

You giggle as Chan throws you over his shoulder to carry you inside. He smacks your ass playfully as he puts the key into the lock and opens the door.

Walking you directly to the bedroom and laying you down on the bed, his body crawling on top so his body rests between your legs. His body starts to roll as his tongue enters your mouth.

“Who do you belong to?” he asks, pulling back.

“You”, you mewl.

“Good girl”, he grips the bed as he continues to dry hump you. One hand slips under your t-shirt, his fingertips gliding along your skin before cupping your breast.

“I thought you were gonna rip my clothes off”, you giggle.

"Mmm," Chan hummus, kissing and licking your neck.

You giggle as his hand starts to play with your nipple. Chan lifts his body up. “Sit up," he growls as he says. Chan pulls your shirt up and over your head, revealing your bra. “This is my favourite bra”, he continues pulling the cup down as he licks your nipple.

He licks and sucks your breast making sure to alternate between each breast; you arch your body as your pussy starts throbbing. Chan's hand slides down your stomach and into your pants; his fingers spreading your folds as he checks how wet you are for him.

“Baby girl…you’re so wet”, he smiles.

“Only for you, sir” You liked playing to his possessive side.

“Fuck….only for me”, he moans as he pulls his hand out and sucks on his fingers.

He rolls your pants down, lifting your legs up to pull them off your body; you spread them for him as he sucks on his fingers, sliding them back down.

“How many do you want?" He breathes. “One,” he says as he slides one finger inside you.

You shake your head “more” You moan.

“Two”, he slides another one in. This time, he curls his fingers hitting your g spot, causing you to let out a slight whimper.

“More, please”, you beg.

“How about three?" he says, pumping a third inside you.

“YES,” you scream as you begin to squirm.

“That’s my good girl.... hmmm”, he said as he pumped and curled his fingers inside you as he continued stimulating your breasts.

“This feels so good, sir," you moan.

“Who do you belong to?” He grunts into your chest.

“You, sir," you moan back.

“Say my name," he growled.

“Channie” was the only word you could manage to get out.

“That’s it, baby….again”, he grunts, pumping his fingers in deeper.

“U-uh, Channie”, you cry

“Okay baby, come for me", he murmurs as he curls his fingers, massaging your spot.

“Yes, yes, YES…..CHANNIE” You call.

Chan pulls his fingers out as he kisses up your body.

“I love the way you call me Channie”, he smiles before kissing you.

Your body starts to shake as you feel your orgasm wash over you. He sucks up the moans with his mouth before helping you ride out your high.

“You’re mine”, he smiles at you.

He places a kiss on your lips. “These lips are mine.”

He places a kiss on your neck. “This neck is mine.”

Rolling down your body, “these breasts,” he makes sure to suck each one, “are mine.”

Licking down your stomach, kissing right at your pelvis, “This stomach is mine.”

“These legs”, he’s now placing kisses down your thighs. “All mine, baby”, he grunts, kissing upwards towards your centre.

“And last but not least….my favourite” he kisses your dripping pussy. “This….is….” You finish his sentence.

“Yours”, you moan as he spreads your folds with his tongue.

His tongue circles your clitoris slowly, making you gasp and arch your back. His lips enclose your pleasure spot, sucking and licking in a steady rhythm that drives you wild. His hands move to your hips, gripping them tightly as his mouth continues to eat your pussy. You feel like you're about to explode, and with one final stroke of his tongue, you do. Your orgasm ripples through you in waves of pleasure.

"That's my girl", he grunts, sending another wave of shivers down your spine.

He pulls away and slides his body up yours, crushing your lips in a passionate kiss. His hardness presses against your thigh, his need for you palpable in the air. You melt into him, your arms wrapping around his neck as you deepen the kiss. He pulls back, his eyes smouldering with desire as he looks into yours. He murmurs, "All mine" softly before leaning in to kiss your lips tenderly.

His hands caress your curves, exploring your body as the kiss intensifies. You can feel his heart racing against yours as your bodies press closer. You lose yourself in the moment, feeling an intense pleasure as his lips move against yours.

"Channie...... I should be taking care of you, remember?" You smile as he pulls away.

"You are," he hums. "I'm feeling so much better." It occurred to you that maybe Chan was lying this morning about being sick, but why?

"Where are the condoms?" He looks at you with a mischievous grin.

"Top Draw" well, at least you thought there was some.

He hops off the bed and opens the draw. "Y/N, really?" He pulls out the first pair of handcuffs you had ever purchased; of course, they were bright purple and fluffy.

"What, they keep me humble", you laughed. He grinned and closed the drawer, catching your eye as he walked towards you. He grabbed your wrist and clicked the handcuffs onto it, locking it in place. You smiled, feeling the thrill as he moved closer.

He moved his face to yours, his eyes twinkling with mischief. You felt his breath on your skin as he spoke. “Remember,” he said, “I'm in control.” He leaned in and kissed you lightly on the lips. A shiver ran through your body as his hands ran down your arms. He stepped back, smiling at you as he said, “Now, where was I?" He tore the condom packet open with his teeth. He pulled out the condom and put it on. He then pulled you close and kissed you deeply. Pushing your body back on the bed while lifting your arms above your head.

He moved his body over yours, his hands running down your sides. He looked into your eyes as he entered you, his breathing getting deeper and faster. You gasped in pleasure as he moved, your bodies in perfect harmony.

"You're safe with me,” he said, kissing down your neck while locking his fingers in yours. “Look at me as I hold your hands,” he said, hovering over your body. “Breath, baby….feel me stretching out your pretty pussy”, he moaned as he kissed you. “I will never stop wanting you.”

Your breath shutters as he thrusts in and out, kissing and sucking your collarbones.

“This feels so good, sir." You moan as his lips meet yours again.

“Good….come for me one more time”, he grunts as he sucks up your moans with his mouth.

He starts to stimulate your clit as he thrusts deeper into you. “That’s a baby girl”, he growls as he feels your walls tighten around him.

“Channie”, you cry as your vision blurs and your body quivers as you feel a wave of pleasure wash over you.

It wasn’t long before Master Chan followed your lead and creamed inside the condom. “You look so beautiful underneath me”, he said, kissing you, not yet pulling out.

“I have the new contract for you to sign”, he mumbles, his lips pressed to yours.

“Okay….I’ll read it now”, you smile chan still not letting your move,

“In a minute…..I want to just sit here for a moment” he continues to kiss you, his tongue sliding past your lips.

……

You wore your robe out into the living room as you waited for Chan to come out with the new contract.

“Okay…I have it here. Let’s give it a read,” he said, sitting down on the couch in his boxers.

“You should go lay down….I don’t want you getting worse,” you said, reaching out to feel his forehead.

“I’m okay….must have just been a little bug or something”, he said, handing you the new contract.

“Okay, let’s go through this together”, he said, handing you a cup of water.

“I didn’t even see you pour this”, you laughed as you took a sip.

He smiled as he looked down at the contract. He was proud of himself.

“Okay, section 3A amendment…..The submissive should only refer to the dominant as Sir or Master when alone. The submissive is to call the dominant by the following names only while at work or in the company of other side outside the BDSM community: Chan, Channie, Mr Bang or Chris.” He smiled, looking up at you, waiting for your acknowledgement.

“Yes, master”, you smile at him fondly, waiting for him to continue.

“Section 3B…..The submissive must sleep in the dominant room at least once a week” All you can think about is…..what is he up to?

You raise an eyebrow at him. “I thought you might like it, seeming as though you’ve seemed to enjoy it the last couple of days..." He said without hesitation.

“I can strike it out if you like,” he said, clicking his pen.

“No…….I mean, no sir, it’s fine to leave in,” you said, swallowing hard.

“Excellent”, he smiled, continuing to read. “Next page section 6B…… I’d like to add in the following sexual kinks….. unprotected sex” he looks up to gauge your reaction.

You were shocked that he was always so careful. Why, all of a sudden, did he want to fuck you unprotected?

“Now that you’ve been on birth control for a couple of weeks….I thought we could maybe try it…..I’ll always ask permission first, baby, I promise.”

He was so adorable in the way he justified his kinks to you.

“I’ve uh never had a master do that before”, Master Chan gulped.

“I’ll strike it out….you don’t look comfortable with it” he clicked his pen, but before he could reach the paper, you grabbed his hand.

“I trust you." Those three words made his eyes light up.

“I don’t want to pressure you”, he said, searching your face.

You take the pen off him and sign the contract without reading the rest of the changes. “Let me show you how much I trust you”, placing the signed agreement on the table as your climb onto his lap.

He brushes your hair behind your ears before you lean in and kiss his lips.

Chan pov

God, I want to be inside her so desperately. My cock is throbbing. “There’s just one more really important thing?”

“What’s that?” She says before placing her plump lips back on mine.

“How do you feel about me installing a mirror on top of our playroom ceiling?” I wonder if she picked up on my use of the word ours.

“Love that idea,” she said before biting my bottom lip.

“Excellent,” I said before pushing her body down on the couch.

“Sir…” she moaned while sliding her hand down my body.

“Mmmmm,” I said while kissing down her neck.

“I want you to cum inside me……” my eye shot open.

“Now!” I said in shock.

“I want you to claim me…..only you,” she said so sweetly that my cock twitched.

“Only me”, I whispered.

She nods. “Only you, sir." Her finger brushes my lip.

She reaches down and pulls my cock out of my boxers, licking her hand before she starts pumping. “Please”, she whimpers; who am I to deprive her of what she wants.

Taking her hand away, I command, "Beg me for it.".

“Please….. I need to feel you cum inside me." Oh fuck she’s getting really good at this begging thing.

“Shit”, I whispered.

I lean down to place a kiss on her neck when she whispers. “ I’m not wearing any underwear, remember” Her desperate lips pressed to my ears.

Trying to ignore her, I kiss her jawline before she whispers again, “I want you to be the first to cum inside me.”

That was enough begging for me. I lined myself up with her entrance and slowly pushed myself inside her.

Her body arched into mine. “Tell me how you feel”, I growled, trying not to cum before I even got to start.

“Good sir”, her lips parted slightly as she started to roll her hips.

The three orgasms I gave her before weren't enough.

I lean my body down. I can feel her throbbing clit on my pelvic bone. “So desperate for me, hmm,” I smile.

“I need you”, she whined, her whines sending sparks down to my dick.

I start to roll my hips, stimulating her clit as her wall throbs against my cock. I didn’t want to tell her, but this is my first time ever going bareback. The sensation is different. “You feel amazing, baby girl”, I grew.

I feel her breathing getting heavier and her moans getting louder. I feel my orgasm building up, ready to be released. I slow down my movements, savouring the sensation before it's gone. I let out a loud moan of pleasure as I finally reached my climax. I can feel the warmth of my release inside of her, and I can't help but smile in satisfaction. She follows suit, and I can feel the contractions of her body as she reaches her own peak. We stay there for a few moments, our bodies intertwined in a state of post-orgasmic bliss. We collapse in each other's arms, satisfied.

"I'm all yours," she said, her lips pressed to my ear.

Master Taglist : @bellamuerte1987 @nightrayseishina @9900z @armystay89 @dreamstarsandskz @raven-skz95 @fosfopirite @neyangi @princesspanda16 @krishastumblernow @agnes-king @bangtanmix73 @djeniryuu @calicanbeevil @khemrose @fawnpeaks @missrobyn81 @dreambelieveinme @umbreonwolfy @jisungiexx @scarletrosesposts @choisoorin @izzathequeen @binnies-minsung-fanclub @jetblackbelle @bunnyxoxodarling @berryberrytan @sky-outta @zerefdragn33l @shiningnono @tinys0ftie @zinnichong @tuggybug @nokacchan @amaranth-writing @seungbinis @jisunglover3409 @kimseungminsprincess @goblin-waifu @skzswife @uwuitsjungwoo @marrivmel

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mixtape-racha · 11 months

Text

stupid for you | han jisung

you really shouldn't feed into your boyfriends perv-like tendancies, but how can you help it when he's just so pretty begging for you to touch him? // 18+, minors dni

words: 1.15k // warnings: fem!reader, established relationship, use of pet names, jisung and reader refer to himself as sir, jisung and reader refer to reader as mommy, light perv!jisung, somnophilia, switch!jisung, switch!reader, use of mommy, use of sir, cum talk, reader calls jisung dumb and disgusting (lovingly), slapping (once)

“please, pretty baby, please please– i’ll beg all night if you want–”

jisung is such a whiny shit when he desperately wants something. which, with how obsessed he is with your body, is more often than you’d think. and god knows he looks good doing it.

which is why you’re in your current predicament - you straddling his bare waist, his hands pinned in place above his head, his hips jutting up into you as you glare at him.

“you can beg as much as you want, sung, but its not happening. you really think you deserve to fuck me after what you pulled earlier?”

he was really pulling out all the stops, jutting his lower lip out and putting on his prettiest puppy eyes. you think you can see tears welling up too. fuck.

“but angel, i couldn’t help it! you know i’d never be bad on purpose.”

“jisung, all you know is being bad. those were brand new underwear, and you know that because you were there when i got them. but still, something in your silly little brain thought it’d be a good idea to use them to get yourself off, huh?”

your grip on his wrists tightened, and you couldn’t help the way your cunt clenched when he whimpered and shook his head frantically.

“no, mommy please, i’m–”

“i swear to god if you say sorry one more time i’m going to stuff that big mouth, got it? I don’t wanna hear another noise from you. we both know you wanted to get caught, or you wouldn’t have paraded yourself around while my panties sat here covered in your cum, would they? honestly, pup, you’re dumb and disgusting, but you’re not that stupid.”

jisung’s eyes glazed over and his cock twitched behind you at your words, and you knew deep down you couldn’t keep it up much longer. he was just too cute.

your next words sparked a world of excitement behind his eyes, and he drooled as you kissed him harshly - all teeth and spit.

“mommy’s gonna suck you dry now, baby. but if you move, or make any noise, you’re not cumming for the next week.”

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

“fuck baby, stay still. you feel so good like that.”

you whined, sleep falling away from you fast and not understanding why your body felt like it was rocking, as if you were on a boat.

“sungie, wha–?”

oh. that’s what the rocking was. jisung’s cock was rutting gently between your thighs, and he’d somehow manhandled your sleep-shorts and panties so they were sitting by your knees.

“sung, what’s goin’ on?” you mumbled, voice croaky from sleep and lack of use.

he grunted, hips still rocking, stomach bumping your ass from the position you were in.

“jus’ looked so good there, doll. whinin’ in your sleep for me. almost like you love the way i perv on you. makes you almost as disgusting as me, huh?”

his words threw you, with the sleepiness still washing over you, your head going fuzzy.

“no. m’good girl. jus’ wanna make sungie feel good.” your brow furrowed as his hips sped up.

“so good just laying there for me ready to use. sleeping in such revealing clothes. makes it so easy for me, angel face.”

“wanna touch, sung. please~”

his groans grew louder, hot breath fanning all over your neck from where he lay behind you.

“god, yeah, baby. come touch, make your sungie feel good.”

what he wasn’t expected was for you to crawl under the duvet and wrap your warm lips around his cockhead. in fact, he could’ve came on the spot just from the way you huffed a breath of warm air through your nose, the sensation hitting his pubic bone with glee.

he threw the duvet off the bed, eyes fixed on the way you kitten-licked the tip, eyes still glazed over with tiredness. even in the dead of night, especially in the dead of night, you’d still feed into his fantasies like they were just as much your own.

god, you were perfect.

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

“all laid out so pretty for me, huh? good thing the guys have left now, wouldn’t want them seeing you be such a slut, would we?”

you wanted to slap the smug look off of your boyfriend’s face, not even attempting to cover your naked body. it was all his fault anyway. the guys had all come over for a movie and games night - meaning there were seven other men in your living room - and your boyfriend thought it would be funny to rile you up under your blanket on the couch by rubbing your clit through your panties, hand delicately stuffed under your jogging bottoms.

he got you so close to an orgasm more times than you could count, then ripped his hand away, tuning into a conversation instead - ignoring all your attempts to drag him into the bathroom for a quickie to subdue the pull in your abdomen.

so, of course you pretended to have a migraine and stayed hidden in your bedroom instead, making yourself cum multiple times knowing it would piss him off more that he didn’t get to see the way your face twisted with pleasure each time. what else were you supposed to do?

“what’s the matter, baby? cat got your tongue?”

“fuck off.” you mumbled, eyes glued to the bedsheets from your position on your knees waiting for him.

“wanna repeat that, angel? and think carefully before you answer that.”

you couldn't bring yourself to look up, knowing the flash of anger that would be on his face. he hated it when you got an attitude with him. maybe thats why you enjoyed it so much.

“you’re so annoying, jisung. i almost think you want the guys to watch you fuck me at this point.”

slap.

oh.

slapping was a new thing in the bedroom with you and jisung, but you couldn’t deny the way you positively dripped at the burn on your cheek.

a fizz of anger waved over jisung’s face, and he gripped your chin, squishing your cheeks so your mouth opened.

“you really like winding me up, huh? you don’t get to talk about other men when you’re sitting here all pretty like that.”

god, he was absolutely throbbing in his pants, and it was so obvious where you were almost eye level with his cock. Drooling, you reached out for his waistband, looking up at him with a silent beg for permission.

“m’sorry, sir. jus’ wanna have you inside me, please!”

the way you were trembling under his touch, the tears in your eyes and drool dripping from you chin. the way you were rubbing your thighs together, jisung could almost guarantee there was a wet patch on the duvet underneath you now.

“you just wanna be stuffed with sir’s cock, huh baby? go so dumb, so fucking cockdrunk like always, yeah? well, i can’t deny you that now, can i?”

#mixtape-racha fic #jisung x reader #han jisung x reader #perv!jisung #perv!skz #stray kids smut #skz smut #jisung smut

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harryssweatcreaturee · 7 months

Text

Petals and Promises

you guyssssss, i'm bacckkkkk (((':

a/n: here's something a little sweet and heart warming with soft harry being the sweet little baby he is, i hope this fluff blurb makes you happy. love you guys <3

wc: 1695

warnings: mentions of deceased parent

Days like this were Harry’s favorite.

The smell of the fresh rain drizzling down to water the trees, humidity that anyone else might complain about but Harry loved. Sure, it meant sadness for most people but for Harry, it meant growth and serenity. Each raindrop seemed to cleanse the very atmosphere, purifying it from worries and accumulated dust, washing away the problems from moments before the nature’s symphony. The air that was once stifling and heavy, now felt light, crisp, and cool.

He walked from the parking lot to head towards his flower shop. Sidewalk sprinkled with some people like him – under their umbrellas and coats coddling them away from the slight chill the rain invited.

“Excuse me!”

Harry kept walking, admittedly a bit distracted with the sound of the pitter patter from the rain hitting the pavement, not realizing the woman behind him was trying to call his attention.

“Sir! Excuse me!”

This time, Harry turned his head, finding a young woman with her hands wrapped around her body and drenched pointing to his umbrella.

“Do you mind? Just until I reach the flower shop. I parked too far and forgot my umbrella. Sorry just – it’s cold. Wet, very wet.” She rambled on, an apologetic smile on her face as if she was burdening Harry for wanting momentary shelter from the curtains of rain.

Harry smiled as he moved closer to her, “Don’t mind at all. M’actually headed to the flower shop too. What are you looking for? We have new shipments today and I ordered some new flowers that are in season.”

Harry’s always been so friendly and kind, not leaning into finding any harm in anyone’s intention of speaking to him or approaching him. Maybe it was a bit much for some people but hey, sharing his umbrella with a person and how could he not make conversation when they’re just inches away?

(Y/N) on the other hand, hated the rain. It meant sadness. It meant another day where the skies cried with her over how much she missed her mum. Her best friend. Her confidant. The world seemed to be just as sad as her from how often the skies cried with her – dreadful and muddy as it made every step a battle against the sucking muck.

It didn’t help that she left her umbrella today and she needed those flowers before she went to go visit her mum. But she wouldn’t miss it for the world. No matter the shine, the rain, the wind. She’d sit on that grave as the rain fell in a relentless downpour if she had to.

To make it worse, she wanted to try this new flower shop and the parking she found felt like it was miles and miles away from her car as the rain trickled down her dry body and making her a proper soaked towel.

God bless the man that allowed her to hide away from the rain until they reached the shop. He seemed so kind and genuine, giving her a smile that was so graceful – a delicate curve that carried with it elegance and joy. It was sweet and it made (Y/N) feel warm inside unlike the rain’s cold drips that made her body shiver.

“I usually get her a bouquet of sulfur and pink cosmos, if you have any.”

She stayed by the door, cautiously looking around the shop riddled in concentric shelves holding beautiful flowers and arrangements. It smelled so nice, soft yet alive. (Y/N) didn’t want to wet the wood floor any more than she already had, keeping her body at a close distance to the exit door.

Harry noticed and immediately walked over to her with a coat he usually left under the register, handing it to her with a soft smile, “Don’t worry about that. Walk around and look as you please. I’ll mop up after. M’Harry, by the way. Let me know if you need anything.”

She wasn’t sure if he even responded to her as to what flowers she wanted but he seemed busy at work with the yellow and pink puffs she asked for, working on a bouquet behind the counter.

(Y/N) could tell he took care of his flowers. Not a single wilted petal or a dead flower. They looked beautiful and full of life, ready to illuminate any room or bring a smile to anyone’s face. She hoped it did the same to her mum in heaven every time she showed up with her favorite flowers.

“May I ask who these are for? These are special flowers – beautiful and harmonious. Special person you’re getting them for.”

A smile perked the commissure of her lips, not realizing that her mother’s favorite flowers meant something so sweet and so in sync with what their relationship was – still is and forever will be.

(Y/N) walked closer to the counter, eyes now focused on his hand cutting the stems at an angle before perfectly arranging them at a height where they bloomed so generously.

“They’re for my mum. I visit her every Sunday with her favorite flowers, even if the ones from the week before are still perfect and blossoming.”

He had long, slender fingers. A cross tattoo etched on the back of his palm, a pastel yellow chipping away from his fingernails. It matched him, she thought. Tender and refreshing like the smile he gave her when he allowed her to hide away under his umbrella.

Harry didn’t need more explanation to understand what the flowers were for. And though his mum was alive and well, thank God, it resonated deep in him because cosmos happened to be his mum’s favorite flower too.

“Cosmos are my mum’s favorite too.”

A soothing silence fell over them as he finished up the bouquet, wrapping the stems with a rubber band, then the brown kraft paper, then the cellophane.

“This one’s on the house today. I hope you have a good visit with your mum and take my umbrella. The weather won’t get any better until later in the evening.”

His generosity made (Y/N)’s eyes water. He didn’t know her, didn’t know her name, yet his kindness wrapped her up in the warmest, tightest hug of sweetness that squeezed tears out of her. There was sincerity in his kindness that was unmistakable, a genuine desire to help others that radiated from him, and anyone can see that.

“Thank you.” She croaked out, holding in a sob that she thought would come later when she sat atop her mother’s grave but instead, this sweet stranger was nearly pulling it out of her.

Harry couldn’t seem to get the woman out of his head days after. He could remember seeing her eyes welled up in unshed tears, her lips trembling a sad testament to the emotions churning behind the surface. Harry just wanted to hold her, feeling compelled to promise her that everything will be okay and that one day things will get better.

He hoped she’d come by again this Sunday, maybe talk to her some more and try to make her smile again in any way he could. But luckily, he didn’t have to wait until Sunday.

The last thing he expected was for her to show up in his shop again on this Thursday afternoon, a basket of muffins and his umbrella filling her hands. She looked happier today, sporting that same apologetic smile as she nearly struggled with the door as she stumbled in, a silly little giggle leaving her lips as she tripped on the way to the counter towards Harry.

“This is my proper thank you for your kindness – and your umbrella. You don’t know me, don’t know my name, if I’m a good person, or a bad person. Yet you unhesitatingly treated me with such generosity and-and some sort of empathy that just nearly cured my sadness,” she giggled with a soft sigh following, scooting the basket of muffins closer to him.

“I don’t need to know a person for me to be kind. And besides, I knew in the bottom of my heart that you needed it and it was no problem for me to give you what my heart is full of. Thank you for the muffins, petal.”

(Y/N) huffed out a small laugh, softly shaking her head in disbelief that someone so perfect could exist. Someone so soft and emotionally intelligent, so beautiful and cautious. “You’re unbelievable, y’know that? I’ve never met someone so polite from the second I’ve met them and really, it warms my heart more than I can say. I –“ It was like the woman had a drank a truth serum before she came to see him.

“I left here on Sunday even seeing the rain in a whole different way. I told my mum about you – about the stranger that gave me his umbrella and gifted me flowers because I looked like a sad, wet mess. And I just knew you didn’t do all that out of pity. It means a lot to me.”

Harry could only smile at her. She was so cute, honestly rambling off again about whatever she felt with no filter on her mouth. It was sweet and it made Harry feel good that his kindness meant so much to her. It reminded Harry of the exact reason why he was the way he was.

“Well, I do hope you come by here often and I promise I’ll always be just as kind and sweet, petal.”

(Y/N) felt her cheeks warming up, her heart racing at that nickname again, finding it even a little funny given that he sold flowers. She wanted a different reason to come by the flower shop, perhaps to see him more often than just Sundays where she’d usually be a mess and crying again.

Before (Y/N) could respond, Harry disappeared behind the small hallway that led to the back, then returning with a beautiful chocolate cherry sunflower, Harry handing it to her with a hopeful smile.

“Every petal of this flowers will leave with a promise of your return. Come see me again, petal. I’ll be happily waiting to see you.”

#harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles fan fics #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurb #harry styles au #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfic #harrystyles #harry styles x yn #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harrystyles fic #harrystyles fanfic #hslot #harrys house #harry styles fic

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meownotgood · 1 year

Text

bloodthirst. / hayakawa aki

When your mission goes horribly wrong, you and Aki are left injured and cornered. Thankfully, for a devil like you, healing your injuries is easy. All you need to do is drink a human's blood.

pairing: hayakawa aki x gn!reader

word count: 6.4k

tags: 18+, blood play, blood sucking, biting, dry humping, grinding, finger sucking, praise, reader is a devil hybrid, aki is a bit mean, power imbalance (aki is the reader's superior), reader refers to aki as "sir"

this work contains explicit content intended for 18+ individuals. please read the tags and do not interact if you are a minor.

God, he's stupid.

If only he was smarter, if only Aki had used his brain for more than two seconds and maybe considered the fact that the devils would ambush you both like this, then maybe this wouldn't have been happening right now. If only he was stronger, strong enough to hold his own against the devil horde, instead of needing to rely on some insolent, disgusting devil to protect him and drag him to safety. Stupid.

Aki's hand returns to clutch his side the second he's finished barricading the door. There's a pounding in his head, and a dull sting coming from right under his ribcage, where one of the devils lashed him. He can feel blood, warm and wet as it soaks through the fabric of his shirt, pooling over his palm, staining his skin crimson.

Shit, shit, shit- You're hurt, what do we do? We're so fucking screwed-

Your voice barely registers over the ringing in his ears and the haze quickly overtaking his mind. Aki stumbles backwards, and when his back hits the wall of the small storage room, he slides down, collapsing on the ground. His side hurts like all hell, but there's also an ache coming from his ankle; he tripped while the two of you were running away, and with his luck, he probably sprained the damn thing.

I just, what the hell are we supposed to do?! Neither of us can fight like this, are we gonna die? We're gonna-

"Fucking- Shut up, will you?" Aki snaps, wincing the second the words finish leaving his mouth. Just trying to speak hurts. He presses his palm firmer against his side, grunting from the immediate sharp sting of pain. "We're not… We're not gonna die. Just calm down."

At least, Aki thinks you're not gonna die.

Damn devils, they're craftier than he thought they'd be. When he first got the call for this mission — Yeah, it's a bunch of little devils, not sure what they are, but they seem pretty weak — Aki assumed the two of you would be able to handle this by yourselves, no problem. But when you arrived at the scene, "a bunch of little devils" turned into a swarm of them, and "they seem pretty weak" turned out to be an outright lie. Perhaps he should have asked for more back-up.

Either way, you're not gonna die. Aki will find a way out of this, he always does. He has to, because with the way you're currently pacing about, gnawing nervously on your fingernails, muttering anxiously to yourself, it's pretty safe to assume you won't be of much help.

There must be some way, something he can — No, he can't move. Maybe you can, no, shit, that's not gonna work…

"Aki?"

Your voice rouses Aki from his thoughts. You've stopped pacing now, that's good. But you're still shifting from heel to heel, a nervous expression on your face, your hand pressed to a particularly nasty scrape on your cheek. "You have a plan, right?"

Aki leans back until his head hits the wall with a gentle thunk. He exhales an exasperated sigh, blowing air out through his mouth in an attempt to push his sweaty bangs out of his face.

No, he doesn't have a plan. In what world would he have a fucking plan for this?

"How well can you move? On a scale of one to ten." Aki asks through ragged breaths, his mouth hung open, his chest rising and falling with vigor. Sweat is beginning to form at his brow in little droplets, cascading down to drip from his jaw.

You answer, "Like, a six? Or a six and a half?" You're staring down at your feet like your untied shoelaces hold the key to get out of here, and you press your palm further into your cheek.

"I can move okay. But I don't have enough blood to transform… I can take your sword but I- I don't know how to use it."

Aki stares listlessly at your shadow projected on the ceiling, traveling back and forth as you begin to pace again.

There's no way he's moving, that's out of the question. If he stands up, he's just going to hurt his ankle, putting him out of commission even more than he already is. And he can't summon Kon here, either — She'd eat the devils, sure, but she'd also probably topple the whole building. Guaranteed extermination of the devils means nothing if the two of you are left buried under a pile of rubble.

Aki racks his brain as much as his headache will allow. If he can't do anything, then his only hope is to rely on you. Yeah, he really doesn't want to do that, but he's not sure he has a choice in the matter. And if you're going to help him, if you're going to be of any use…

Right then, Aki remembers something he was told shortly after he became acquainted with you. He found it hard to believe at first, but he eventually came to terms with the fact that you're a devil, but not an ordinary sort of devil. No, his boss would be too kind to stick him with someone who's at all easy to understand. You're not just a devil, but a human as well, and this means that unlike normal devils, there's a way you can recover some of your strength. A way you can regenerate, in simple terms.

Aki leans forward, off of the wall, his back slumping. "Hey, devil."

You freeze in place, turning towards him and standing to attention the second you hear his stern voice. Aki's eyes meet yours for what must be the first time in hours; his eyelids are heavy with exhaustion, but his gaze is as sharp as ever. He gives you a once over, his shoulders tensing, the bridge of his nose knotting up with slight irritation.

"Do you think if you can transform, you can get us the hell out of here?"

"I… I think so. Yessir," You stutter, nodding your head feverishly, although you don't sound too sure of yourself.

Aki's lips purse into a thin line for a moment, before he replies, "And you can heal by drinking someone's blood, right?"

Your eyes widen, your posture straightens. "I can. Yeah."

"Alright, okay." Aki leans back again. His Adam's apple bobs in his throat when he swallows, and with one hand still pressed deft to his side, blood beginning to drip down his knuckles, he uses the other to gesture towards you, crooking a shaky finger in his direction. "C'mere."

You hesitate for a second, but when Aki grumbles out, Hurry up, you're swiftly stumbling over to him on unsteady feet. You walk to stand by his side, kneeling down beside him. Your fingers twiddle in nervousness as you fold your hands in your lap, staring at him with anticipation.

Aki twists, huffing a frustrated breath when he scoots back to prop himself up more. His free hand comes to grasp your chin, his fingers trembling slightly, his touch smearing his blood over your skin. He yanks you forward rather roughly, his thumb ghosting over your lips, his eyes locked onto yours.

You can hear the sound of his breathing: heavy, shaky, like it takes a lot of effort just to expel the air from his tired lungs. You're so lost in the way he's staring at you, the determined look in his eyes, his eyelashes fluttering, sweat dripping from his forehead, his lips quivering ever-so slightly — You almost miss it when he quietly commands through half-gritted teeth, "Hold still. And open your mouth."

The harsh tone of his voice makes you obey before you're even thinking about it. You press your hands firmly to your knees to steady yourself, your lips parting open — Aki squeezes your cheeks, his eyes narrow, and he shoots you a look so sharp you're sure it could cut right through you. He scolds you between ragged breaths: "No… No. Wider. Don't make me say it again."

Your mouth opens wider, wider, but you hardly have time to complain about the way your jaw begins to ache. Aki brings two of his blood-soaked fingers, middle and index to your lips, wasting no time shoving them in.

His movements are clumsy, forced; Aki presses his fingertips to your tongue, and he shoves the digits so far down your throat you feel like gagging, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You can taste his blood on your tongue, metallic and sharp, stale. Rich like his cigarettes, and so fucking delicious. Your senses feel heightened, your heart pounding faster, your face heating up.

Shit, you shouldn't be doing this, should you? You're not sure if this is appropriate, a devil drinking a devil hunter's blood, and your superior, fucking Hayakawa's blood, no less. You swear you heard somewhere that devils can get put down for something like this. But, do you really have a choice in the matter? Aki is the one who instructed you to do this, and even if he hadn't, how else were the two of you supposed to get out of this mess? Listening to whatever he tells you to do is the best call here, surely.

Either way, it doesn't matter. You don't have the time to debate about what you should or shouldn't be doing, and now that you've had a drop, now that you know how good Aki tastes, you wouldn't be able to stop yourself, not even if you tried.

Your knees are starting to shake — You're losing your balance, and it makes things ever the more clumsier. Aki tries to hold your face still, but you're wobbling and teetering, choking on his fingers, pulling back from him instinctively when he shoves them in too far.

"Tch," Aki scoffs, and you gasp when he suddenly drags his fingers out of your mouth. He eyes them with a look of disgust, his lips pursing, and he promptly wipes your saliva off on his pant leg. "Dammit, didn't I tell you to hold still? You're making this difficult."

"Sorry, sir."

Aki winces when he presses his hand to his side once more, soaking his fingers in more of his own blood. "Try again," He commands, holding your face tightly, tapping his finger against your cheek to coax your mouth to open for him.

"Don't move so much this time, and make sure you lick it all up. The more blood you get, the sooner we can get the hell out of here. Got it?"

With your mouth open wide, and with Aki already shoving his fingers back in, all you can do is nod.

He's a little gentler this time, a little more patient, carefully smearing blood from his fingertips over the flat length of your tongue. You're still shifting, although not as much as before; Aki notices when your hand slips from your knee to his leg, gripping him tightly to keep your footing.

Aki sighs. His free hand shifts to your waist, and he carefully pushes you closer — Come here. — until you're climbing over him, your legs on either side of him. And then, when your knees tremble and start to give out, you're plopping your weight on top of him, settling into his lap. Aki tries not to notice, but your weight pressed against him makes his breath hitch in his throat, and causes his heart to pound just a little bit faster.

He's unable to take his eyes off of you, both from the display, and from how close you are; your tongue swirls around the length of his fingers, and your eyelids grow heavy, gaze lust-filled as you eagerly taste his blood. When you've licked up everything, his digits soaked from your saliva, you bob your head. Your soft lips wrap around the base of his fingers, his digits practically down your throat.

Your gaze flickers upward, then, until you're staring at him with doe eyes, with a look that's a mix of desire and indecision. Aki swallows down the lump in his throat, and he watches as you give his fingers a gentle suck, as if you still need more, as if you're trying to suck the blood right out of his pores.

Feeling the pressure, Aki abruptly drags his fingers out of your mouth again. He eyes you up and down; you wait for him to tell you to get off of him, to scold you for what you're trying to do. Instead, he simply clears his throat awkwardly, before he asks, "So? Can you transform now?"

Your tongue darts out to lick the remaining smears of blood from your lips. "I don't think so. Sorry. It takes a lot more blood if I get it in this way."

"What do you mean?"

"I'll regenerate faster if the blood is fresh."

Aki's eyes widen. He shoves his bottom lip between his teeth, and he glances towards the door; still barricaded, for now. And although there's no sign of the devils, if he focuses hard enough, he can hear a faint scratching sound, the echo of the devil's claws as they scrape against the door.

Aki doubts they'll be able to get in for a while, considering the way he's blocked the entryway. But they know where the two of you are, they're clearly growing impatient, and he's losing blood, lots of blood. It's beginning to drip and pool below him, collecting in a deep crimson puddle on the concrete floor. Fuck, can he even afford to lose any more?

It doesn't matter, he can't think about it. He can't hesitate, he just can't. He's already a liability, anyways, and there's no time to lose. If Aki wants to have any hope of getting out of here, he needs to place his full trust in you.

Aki grips his side again, pressing his palm firm to his wound to try and lessen the bleeding. He reaches up with his free hand, grasping his tie, loosening it. He pops the first few buttons on his dress shirt. Then, Aki hooks a finger around his collar, tugging it down, tilting his head up, exposing the bare skin of his nape.

"C'mon, then." Aki's eyes flicker down, then back to your face, gesturing exactly what he means. "Bite me."

"Are… Are you sure I should-"

"Fuck, just do as I say." Aki orders, speaking through a deep sigh, his shoulders slumping.

You eye him up and down. Your throat feels dry, your mouth starting to water. Aki's chest rises and falls, rises and falls. You can see the way his blood covers his hand, the way it pools onto the ground, echoing a faint drip, drip sound when the droplets splatter onto the concrete.

When he sees you start to lean in, Aki allows his eyes to flutter shut, his head hazy. He focuses on his breathing: in, out. Nice and slow. Calm down, just relax. Just make sure you stay awake — Your breath is warm when it fans out over his skin, your lips are soft when they hesitantly press to the nape of his neck — You'll be out of this soon, it'll be fine, it'll be…

Aki inhales a sharp breath in through his teeth, feeling an instant, searing hot pain as soon as your incisors sink into his soft, tender flesh. You bite down hard, breaking a layer of skin; a small wound forms, and you suck on it harshly, drawing flesh blood.

His hand flies up to grip your shoulder, and his hips squirm a little under your weight. Beneath your lips, you can feel the way Aki's pulse thrums eagerly, and in your ears, you can hear the way his breath comes out quicker, shallower.

You're so damn close, shoved up against him on his lap. So close he can feel you — One of your hands is pressed deft to his chest, feeling the pound of his heartbeat, and the other gripping his jaw, tilting his head up to give you better access to his neck. So close, Aki can fucking smell you, so sweet and intoxicating, your scent mixed with the sharp, metallic smell of blood that lingers in the air.

And when your tongue presses to his skin, your breath warm, your mouth wet, the wound stinging when your tongue flicks, licking up more of his blood — Aki exhales a shuddery groan, and he drags his hand up to squeeze your neck, then up further to carefully hold the back of your head.

"S-Shit," Aki gasps, his grip tightening on your hair, "Is that… is that not enough? Are you sure you- Oh, fuck-"

Aki stutters into a moan when you shift on his lap, grinding your hips against where he's growing stiff beneath you, your teeth nipping at a new, tender spot on his nape. His cock is tenting his slacks, throbbing incessantly, already so fucking hard, and your mouth sucking bruises into his neck just makes him throb even harder.

His head feels woozy, his whole body overwhelmed by the intoxicating combination of pain and pleasure. Your hips grind against his cock, making his side throb, but his whole body tingle. Your mouth feels hot on his neck: soft lips and sharp teeth, so rough, but so gentle at the same time.

God, he's so fucking hard; was all of this just because of how close you are, just from your mouth on his neck? Aki feels dribbles of precum soak his boxers when you grind down on him once more — This time, with much more deliberation. Soft, little whimpers fall from his mouth, punctuated by shaky breaths.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck…" Aki's eyelids flutter, his eyes threatening to roll into the back of his head, and he whines when you roll your hips into his stiff cock, "You're- I c-can't, I-"

You freeze, suddenly. Aki catches his breath as you pull back, wiping the blood smeared on your lips with the back of your hand. When you meet his eyes, Aki is staring at you with a pathetic, desperate look in his gaze, his pupils blown wide. You watch as it shifts into annoyance, the bridge of his nose knotting up, his jaw clenching, his hands moving to firmly grip your hips.

Aki grinds you down onto him in tandem with his hips bucking upward. He grunts softly, his eyes shut, and little rocks of his hips grind his hard cock between your legs. When he speaks again, his voice is weak, but it still has an irritated, stern tinge to it, the kind of tone you only hear when he's scolding you: "Don't stop, don't fucking stop. That's an order."

Aki begins to rock his hips slightly, shaky moans and gasps falling from his lips. His mouth is parted, his face is flushed out: a shade almost as red as the blood that's beginning to soak through the fabric of his suit jacket, painting his white dress shirt in a shade of vivid crimson.

His hands trail up, up, feeling the curves of your sides, smearing blood from his palms over your shirt. He grips you tightly, guiding you to grind down on him to a deep, slow rhythm. "That's it," Aki praises; he can feel the delicious friction on his stiff cock, even through his slacks. He's so hard it aches. "God, just like that, juuuust like that."

Your hands move to grab his shoulders to steady yourself, and after a particularly strong grind down and thrust up, Aki suddenly gasps — One of his hands flies to grip his side, his eyes screw shut, and his breath comes out quickly, in between his shuddery winces in pain.

"Shit, Aki?" Your tone shifts into worry in an instant, your expression softening. "Are you okay?"

The both of you need to get out of here, and soon. Aki knows this; he knows he's losing blood, lots of it, and giving you more of what he already doesn't have definitely didn't help things. His head feels fuzzy and light, like he's high, like he's dizzy. When he tries to open his eyes, the whole room is spinning, and his vision is blurred at the edges.

Aki knows the two of you need to get out, he knows he should stop messing around. He knows this, so why is he not doing it? And he knows he shouldn't be thinking all of these disgusting thoughts, but he just can't stop his mind from wandering. Why does he want you so badly, why does he need you so badly? Why is he so, so stupid?

"Yeah, yeah, just- It's just, dammit-" Aki's eyebrows furrow, and he presses his palm even harder to his side. "Just keep going. I'm gonna be fine, okay?"

You eye him with a look of concern, but quietly nod your head in response. Carefully, you readjust your position, and then you give your hips an experimental roll against him; Aki sighs deeply, his eyes rolling up, his head slowly falling back to hit the wall behind him. His prominent Adam's apple bobs when he swallows, and a low groan falls from his mouth when you press yourself even harder onto his crotch.

There's no answer as to why, Aki realizes. At least, he can't come up with one. But he can't seem to come up with a reason to push you off of him, either.

The door is barricaded. He can't hear the devils outside of it anymore. He's still bleeding, but not as harshly as before. He'll be fine. You have time. You can make good use of it.

"Shit, shit, don't stop… A-Ah, fuck-" Aki whines, sounding a little too pathetic for his liking, but he can't help himself; the way you're rhythmically rubbing yourself up against him, the sounds of your quiet whimpers and gasps, and the fact that he can't do anything about it — It's making him go fucking crazy.

His hands shake when he grabs your hips again, guiding you to grind down on him deeper, harder, and his voice is stern when he commands, "Do it like this, fucking please."

God, if only he could take control right now, if only those goddamn devils hadn't torn him up like this. The throbbing pain in his side makes it so he can hardly move. He can't buck his hips up into you like he so desperately wants to, like he needs to. All he can do is beg, and rely on you to give him the friction he's craving.

Hell, if he was able to move right now, he wouldn't even bother with that — Aki would take you in whichever way he wants. If his ankle wasn't messed up, if he wasn't practically bleeding to death, he'd have you bent over for him, right in this storage room, while he shoves his aching cock deep into you. He'd fuck you exactly how he pleases, and he knows you, like the good little subordinate you are, would take it.

As much as you get on his nerves, and as much as you are a stupid devil, you're always so good to him. Always there at his beck and call, always listening intently to every order you're given. You'd listen to whatever the hell he says, because you're always so eager to please him, aren't you?

Yeah, you are. That's why you're grinding against him eagerly, to the rhythm he's set with his grip on your waist. That's why when Aki holds you tighter, his voice rough, bordering on a growl when he commands, Bite me, again, you're obeying immediately, your head dipping until your fangs connect with the bruised flesh of his nape.

Your eyes flutter shut as you suck at the wound on Aki's neck, his blood metallic on your tongue. Aki hisses, the pain sharp, but so fucking good. His hips shift, and you take the hint, grinding down on him so deeply it causes him to moan, his cock throbbing hard in his slacks, leaking wet precum onto his briefs.

When you pull away, Aki meets your eyes, staring at you with a look in his gaze you could only describe as insatiable. His chest heaves with each breath, and his jaw clenches from the pain, or perhaps the pleasure, or perhaps both.

Maybe it's because of the blood loss screwing with his head, or maybe it's because of how amazing you're making him feel, but Aki suddenly can't tear his gaze away from your lips. He finds himself gripping your chin between his fingers, tugging you closer, closer, and when your lips press to his own, he's truly lost any sense of control he was hoping to hold onto.

Aki kisses you deeply, his hand moving to hold the back of your neck, giving it a gentle squeeze. You press closer, and he pulls you in, as close as he can get you. He nibbles on your bottom lip, his tongue swirls with yours, and fuck, he can taste his own blood, metallic and sharp — The feeling takes him even higher.

In the heat of the kiss, Aki tugs your dress shirt out from where it's tucked in your slacks, shoving his hands under, gliding his palms over your bare skin. His touch is cold, and his fingers are calloused, rough when they skim up your sides. Then, down, where his large hands grab your ass, groping and squeezing. You whimper into his mouth, and Aki groans in unison.

He tastes good, so good, so delicious you can't help but want more. Your body feels warm, your head feels floaty; you can't stop your hands from gliding up and down his chest, from hastily unbuttoning his suit jacket, from reaching up to tug it off his shoulders. You grip his tie, next, loosening it until it hangs limp around his collar, allowing you to start working at his dress shirt.

You stop when it's been unbuttoned halfway, exposing his flushed chest, his defined collarbones, the scars on his skin. You pull away to place urgent kisses on his jaw, his cheeks, his ear — Aki shivers, your lips soft on his skin, your teeth sharp when they nip at his chest, then his collarbones, nibbling at the sensitive bone.

As you kiss his lips again, one of your hands fists his collar, shoving him further against the wall, while the other glides through his hair; you yank at his hair tie, until the dark strands come loose from his topknot, falling to frame the sides of his face.

Aki isn't sure what overtakes you. Perhaps it was the thirst for blood that's ingrained into the minds of every devil, including yours. Or perhaps your desperation simply made you rougher, less aware of what you're doing with your own fangs. Either way, when you suddenly bite down on his tongue, Aki can't hold back a gasp in pain, nor can he stop his hands from gripping you so hard he's sure your skin will bruise.

And yet, he keeps kissing you, he doesn't stop, because he can't. He presses himself up further into you, his cock throbbing so hard you can feel it pulse between your legs, his stiff bulge shoved right up against you — Aki's tongue stings, but his dick feels so fucking good, waves of pleasure surging through his body from the way you desperately hump him.

You suck the blood from his tongue, lick it all off his teeth, your head getting higher at the taste. Energy surges through your body like a drug, lightning up every nerve, making you move faster, even needier. When you pull apart, connected by a bloodied line of saliva between your tongues, Aki is practically panting, gasping for air between each rough grind into him.

"G-God," Aki chokes out, his nails digging into your sides so hard you're sure it'll leave marks, just as your hands come to grip his broad shoulders. His face is warm, flushed pink, all the way to the tips of his ears.

"Does it feel good?" You ask with a shaky voice, as if you're desperate to hear his praise, to know how amazing you're making him feel.

Aki nods feverishly, "So good, s-so fucking good. Don't stop," His eyes meet your own, his pupils blown wide, his eyelids heavy. "I want you to make me cum."

If that's what he wants, then he's going to get it. If that's what your superior is ordering you to do, if that's what Hayakawa is asking of you, you're gonna make him cum, you're sure of it.

"Mhmm," Your eyes screw shut, your head dips, forehead pressed to his shoulder, "Yes, sir."

Your pace picks up, your thrusts into him getting harder, faster — Aki guides you by your hips roughly, until he's practically using you to get off, like you're his toy. You can feel the warmth from his stiff cock between your legs, how it throbs and twitches, the way it seems to swell even more when your fingers run through his long hair, gripping close to the scalp.

"Fuck, you're so good to me," Aki whines, and he grabs the back of your neck to tug you off his shoulder. You meet his sharp gaze, his eyes filled with lust and need. His words slur a little when he asks, "You want some more?"

Judging by the hungry way he looks at you, and the way he moves to press his hand to his side, you know exactly what he's talking about. You give him a particularly desperate roll of your hips, eliciting a groan from him, before you're babbling, "Yeah, yeah, yes please, yessir-"

"No," Aki scolds, cutting you off. He lifts his hand from his side; the blood smeared on his fingers is mostly dried and stale, so he brings them to his lips. He gathers saliva in his mouth, then spits a glob onto the digits, getting them nice and wet. His spit drips down his knuckles, stained red from the mix of the blood on his fingers, and the blood that still lingered in his mouth, on his tongue.

Aki looks up towards you, a frustrated sort of look on his face, his eyes narrowing. "Ask me again. Say my name."

"I- Sorry, yes, please, Hayakawa, sir." You stammer, hardly able to get out the words, your hips shifting a little in impatience.

"Tch, you're close," Aki scoffs. He presses his fingertips to your lips, his spit dripping down them, and his free hand snakes around to grip your cheeks, squeezing to hold you still. "First name."

"Please, please, Aki."

Your voice is so desperate, so needy — The way you say the syllables of his name makes it sound so fucking pretty, and Aki can't get enough of it.

He rewards you, shoving his soaked fingers in your mouth, allowing you to lick them clean. You taste his spit, his blood — Your tongue swipes over his knuckles, and you let out little gags as you choke on his fingers, struggling to take them with the way you're still grinding against his lap; the sound just turns Aki on even more than he already was.

Aki pushes you off of him just a little, adjusting your position on his thighs, before he grabs one of your hands, guiding it between his legs. Voice sultry and rough, dripping with lust, he leans forwards to whisper the dirtiest words into your ear.

Look, I'm so fucking hard here. You feel it throbbing?

You nod as Aki scissors his fingers in your mouth, using his other hand to guide you to squeeze his cock — He's so warm, so thick, so hard, and his breath hitches when you palm him, his eyes fluttering shut. Aki hastily pushes your hand away, grabbing your waist and pulling you back onto him, in tandem with shoving his fingers further down your throat.

He can't help but utter a string of commands, his voice deep and stern, because he knows you'll listen to them. He knows you'll give him exactly what he wants.

Shit, suck on them. And grind against me harder, get me close.

You're obliging the second you hear his voice in your ear: you suck hard on his fingers, sputtering around them, drool leaking out from the corner of your mouth. You grind on his length harder, rougher, each roll of your hips shoving you so close against his aching cock. Even through his slacks, the friction is perfect, and Aki feels heat begin to pool in the pit of his stomach.

His eyelashes flutter, his heart pounds in his chest. His grip starts to grow loose, and his breath comes out faster, faster, faster.

That's it, just like that. Such a good little devil. Say my name again.

His praise gets you higher, your mind foggy, your vision hazy. Mumbling around his fingers, you chant his name over and over again — Aki, Aki, Aki, each time seeming to push him closer and closer to the edge. Aki's head is just as dizzy, swirling from the lust, from the blood loss. It feels like he can hardly think, can hardly muster up coherent thoughts; all he can do is drown in the pleasure and the way his own name falls so beautifully from your lips.

I'm so close, you're gonna make me cum, just go a little harder for me.

He speaks through ragged pants and fragile gasps. Your movements become frantic, and his hips are unable to sit still as he feels his high build closer and closer; he ruts himself into you as much as he can, ever-so slightly, moaning from the added friction — S-So good, I'm gonna, gonna…

Aki cuts himself off with a moan, gripping you harder, his hands shaking, his thighs squirming. You keep up the pace, your hand gently holding his jaw, and you examine his expression: his bangs, messy and stuck to his forehead, his eyelids drooping from the pleasure, his lips parted, quivering. He meets your gaze, a sweet, gentle sort of look in his eyes, before he tosses his head back.

With a stuttered groan of your name, Aki falls apart. His eyes close, and he drags his fingers from your mouth to wrap his arms around you, pulling you close to himself. His muscles begin to relax as he rides out his high, cumming in his slacks, getting his briefs sticky and wet and filthy.

Your movements halt, and you let him catch his breath. His breathing is still shaky, but it slowly starts to calm. Aki cracks his eyes open, sitting up; he attempts to look at you, but his vision is blurred, his head is swimming, and his body sways forwards, leaving you to have to catch him by his shoulders.

He looks so damn disheveled, sweat dripping from his forehead, his hair down and an utter mess. You lost his hair tie, so there's no way you're putting it back up any time soon. His suit jacket is falling off his arms, his shirt is unbuttoned, and his tie is hanging loose around his collar. He has a fucked-out sort of expression on his face, his eyes glazed over, his eyelids heavy and threatening to close.

"You… You okay?" Aki manages, his voice weak and hoarse. His palm comes to press against his side, and although it doesn't feel like he's bleeding much anymore, it fucking hurts. There's a hard, aching sort of throb coming from his wound, spreading across his body. He's not sure if his wound somehow got worse, or if he felt this way all along, he was just so wrapped up in things that he didn't notice it until now.

His ears are ringing, and his mind feels fuzzy, exhausted. Aki's gaze flickers down to the ground for a moment, and he can't see very clearly, but he can still tell how the floor beneath him is soaked red, how his blood has been pooling out onto the concrete.

"I'm fine, Aki, are you? You don't seem okay."

Your voice hardly registers. Yeah, he's stupid, definitely stupid. So, so stupid. He shouldn't have wasted so much time, shit, what was he even thinking? The two of you need to get out of here, the devils are, they must be…

As if on queue, there's a loud slam on the door, then a huge bang as the barricade of shelves Aki set up earlier finally falls over. Aki grabs your shoulder, dragging you close with urgency, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"I'm gonna pass out," He says matter-of-factly, swallowing, "You're gonna get us out of here, right? I trust you."

He... trusts you?

"Of course," You nod, and begin pushing yourself up off of him. You reach down, offering him a hand. Aki takes it, and you drag him to his feet, slinging his arms around your shoulders, holding him up and keeping him steady. He leans on you, his head rested on your shoulder. His breath is warm when it tickles your neck, and strands of his soft hair brush over your cheek.

There's another slam at the door. The devils are going to break in any second now, but with how much of Aki's blood you drank, you feel ready for them. Waves of energy course through your veins, and your knuckles clench and unclench, itching for a fight. You'll protect him, you know you can. He's counting on you, after all.

"Aki?" You ask, grabbing his hand from where it's slung over you, giving it a gentle squeeze. His palms feel cold and clammy. "You still with me?"

"Barely," Aki's voice is so quiet you almost can't hear it over the clamoring of scratches at the door, the devils seeming to grow louder and louder, more and more restless. He grumbles, leaning his chest on your back, before continuing, "If you need more blood, just take it."

You roll your eyes. "I have enough, I took more than enough from you. You should rest, I'll hold onto you."

Another loud slam at the door. It sounds like it's about to break at the hinges, but Aki's deep breaths in your ear keep you from panicking, and the rush you still feel keeps you alert.

"I'll pay you back later for this."

You can't help but laugh at how serious he sounds, but before you can ask if he means paying you back for you protecting him, or for you making him feel good, or for some mixture of both, his weight on your back goes limp. His head rests on your shoulder as his consciousness slips.

Yeah, you'll see about that. For now, you've got to put his blood to good use.

thank you to my beloved @f1gments for helping me with this, I couldn't have done it without you :)

#aki hayakawa x reader #aki x reader #chainsaw man x reader #csm x reader #aki hayakawa #aki hayakawa smut #aki smut

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thevenuscross · 9 months

Text

just come over and bite me | oneshot

summary: you graciously accepted to cat-sit alpine for bucky while he’s away each month. you knew he was a vampire, hell his fangs gave everything away, but what you didn’t expect to find out was that your blood gives him heaven.

pairing: vampire!bucky x fem reader

warnings: (I cannot control readers who read this but if you know you cannot handle these warnings, for the sake of your sanity, don’t read this piece), biting kink, HUGE blood kink, huge age gap, reader is 23 and bucky is like 106 but he appears 32, plot porn, pnv, really emo angsty in the beginning for some reason, mentions of blood, vulgar language, size kink if you squint hard, nicknames (doll, love, sweetheart, sir, baby), mentions of period sex, prey/predator dynamics if u squint, he guides you through it, marking kink, dry humping, staircase sex, he hadn’t have sex in a while, spit play/kink, he never says good girl but it feels like he does LOL you’ll see what i mean, pregnancy mentions but reader doesn’t get pregnant(you’ll see again), if i miss anything so sorry

authors note: this is my first smutty oneshot and i decided to go with a bang of a banger. vampires! i have weird obsessions and one of them is vampire people. like yes suck my blood you dracula wannabe. medical stuff may be wrong but i just wanted vampire bucky to fuck someone. who cares about logistics! its porn! anyways, bucky is the victim for this vampire smut but overall, i hope this is up to people’s expectations because i just wrote it and never looked back to edit it LOL! anyways, the smut is down below. :)

word count: 4.3k

It was supposed to be two easy days of cat-sitting Alpine. Just like you always had every month. You cat-sit her and you earn two hundred at the end. It was all great doing this for him, especially for you. Sure it never quelled the tiny (huge) crush you had for the man but it was helpful cash for you. Plus, he confessed to you after six months of doing this that it did get lonely for him at times so, you were happy he considered you somewhat as a friend. And that he trusted you to some degree.

You knew his secret. He’s a vampire and that his monthly vacations were to quell his thirst. It wasn’t hard for you to figure all of this out and the way you found out never made sense to him, but you knew his soul. He knew yours.

It was just…you never expected to see him at his front door in the middle of the night, a whole day early from his bloody trip, staggering while he’s on his knees as blood was coated his body and clothes. The redness seeped into his floors. A tiny puddle of red slowly emerged as the darkness swallowed the color deeper. His face was flushed and beaten, his eyes barely opening.

“Oh my god.” You choked out.

You carefully placed Alpine down on the couch and rushed over to him, placing tender hands on his forehead, “What happened, Bucky?”

Bucky, with whatever strength he had left, tried to push you away from him but you stayed put, your clean hands now painted with his blood. He mumbled something incoherent as his head spinned and spinned. The air was getting dazier and thicker for him. The figure of you blurry.

“Bucky?”

He shut his eyes to wallow the pain. “You need,” He winced, trying to even his breathing as he held onto his stomach, “You need to go.”

You shook your head, inching yourself closer to him to inspect how badly the bruises on his face were before your eyes worriedly searched his body. You then used your hands to pat around and when you found the wound spot, you quickly tore off your sweatshirt. Luckily you wore a tank top underneath.

Bucky gazed upon you and started shaking his head, “Please, go. You don’t need to do this for me.”

“Are you kidding me?” You furrowed your brows as you gently moved his hands away from the wound and wrapped your sweatshirt to keep the blood from oozing out more, “Bucky, I’m your friend.”

“You’re my cat sitter.”

“You’re only saying that now cause I’m helping you.”

You disregarded how his blood was on your hands, on your favorite sweatshirt. At this point, it didn’t matter to you. This man single handedly saved your life with the money he gave you every month and to think you’ll just stand around without helping him was bullshit to you.

With quick succession, you wrapped a careful arm under his arms and hoisted him so he was able to lean on you somewhat despite his taller height. You watched him intently to see what he needed, what his face was like, what medical attention he needed.

You couldn’t let him bleed out like this even if you knew he was an immortal vampire.

Bucky stumbled a bit as you guys started to walk to the nearest bathroom. He would hiss as he moved, his face scrunched in such a way it made your heart break. His body was slumped on you mostly and you used whatever strength you had to carry this bigger man.

Pressing down on his wound, his mind still waving in and out, his eyes gazed upon your dizzy figure. “I’ll heal.” He mustered out but the way his grip tightened on you made his statement unbelievable.

“Self-healing or not, you need medical attention, Bucky.”

He frowned, mumbling, “No I don’t…”

“Whoever told you the lie that you don’t need it is a bullshitter. You’re not Batman. Just tell me what I need to do.”

You two managed to make it to the downstairs restroom. You quickly heated up a warm bath to wash him up and found some medical supplies from the sink’s cabinet. He stopped protesting against your help and let you shimmy him out of his clothes.

You pried your eyes away when you helped him take off his slacks, but you couldn’t help the disgusting urge to look at him exposed all the way. But you kept the boundaries in check, never looked below his lower half. He needed help whether he believed it or not.

The whiteness of the bathroom had splatters of the red on little spots. His clothes made the wall painted red, the doorknobs you opened were painted in the red. And when you ushered him in the hot water to wash off his blood, the water turned a lukewarm red quickly.

You cautiously cleaned the wound he had on his stomach, wiping the rest of his blood clean everywhere on his chiseled body. His erratic breaths soon turned quaint as he let you clean him. Your eyes stayed on his face to stop them from looking anywhere else on his body.

The only sounds in the restroom were the splashes of water and his occasional wince or hiss.

You were softly rubbing the bar of soap over his stomach where the wound. You absorbed every reaction from his face. His frown, his scrunched face, his brows furrowed. You took it all to see when the cleaning was too much. His eyes were shut the entire time, trying to keep the loopiness down.

“Doll…” He muttered.

You leaned in closer to hear him clearer, “Yeah?”

His hand slowly grasped your wrist and you gulped, your heart pittering. He opened his eyes, his head tilting so he could see you better. His eyes were low and dark as he moved your hand to his chest, metaciously watching your every breath, every move, every reaction.

“Thank you.”

You gave him a faint smile and ignored the way your stomach was flipping with this burning desire, “I would’ve done it in a heartbeat.”

“And you did.” Bucky jokes and the two of you sweetly chuckle but the moment falters when he hissed loudly, his head rolling back and his eyes back to being shut. “Fuck.”

“Here,” You pulled the drain from the tub fast, “Let’s put you in a robe so I can stitch your wound.”

You turned around to find one of his robes but his hand pulled you back roughly to the spot you sat at. Confused by his action, you looked at him to see him shake his head.

“I just want to rest now.”

Even though you were afraid the wound wouldn’t heal when you dragged him to his bedroom, he reassured you it was alright. (Though you still wrapped the wound with a bandage). You gave him a robe so he was able to sleep in some clothes rather than lay naked. Plus it was easier than dressing him knowing you were going to be face to face with his dick.

It eased your heart a little knowing that.

He fell asleep the minute he was covered in blankets and when his head hit the fluffy pillow of his. Little Alpine came strolling and took her place right next to him. She meowed while looking at you, as if telling you to come too in bed, but you told yourself no that’s delusional and you closed the door quietly so you could take a shower.

Yet you couldn’t sleep that night. Even after you took your shower and wore the silk black pajama Bucky gave you as a present. The second day was sleepless too. You took care of Alpine as usual but this time you waited by his door in case he needed something. By the third day where Bucky had rested like he was in a coma, you were growing restless with this urgent need bellowing in the bottom of your stomach. Combined that with your tired self, you were bitchy to yourself to say the least.

On the fourth night when you washed the pajama set (seeing how the clothes you were when he was bloody got bloodied, it was hard to wash off blood), you laid in the bedroom that Bucky claimed was yours while you were over cat-sitting. Sure you were extending your stay, but you were worried for him and if he wasn’t awake soon, you were sure he wouldn’t like to see his cat meowing and purring cause no one took care of her.

And for the first time in ages, you tried sleeping. You had your eyes shut tight and you snuggled with another pillow on the bed. There you pushed images of the beach, hiking, anything you would deem peaceful to help you sleep. But nothing worked because your random thoughts would shift to Bucky going down on you, biting you, grazing his fangs over your lips, him eating you out while you’re on your period—

What the fuck is wrong with you?

You moved your fingers to touch your lower lip and let out an annoyed huff when you realized you bit down hard, specks of blood started to drip. Frustrated, you went out of the bedroom and walked down the hallway to reach the grand staircase. You kept your hand on your mouth to stop the cut from flowing more blood.

You were six down from the stairs when you stopped, hearing footsteps from above.

“Doll?” His voice was raspy and low, maybe even a hint of sultry in it. “You’re still here?”

You whipped around to face him and the relief spread throughout. With your hand still covering your mouth, you nodded, “Of course I am,” You mumbled, “Someone had to take care of Alpine.”

He didn’t smile. But he smelled an intriguing aroma coming from you, the boxers he put on before leaving now tightening. He leveled his breathing as he started to make his slow descent towards you and you were pretty certain he was hunting you.

The way his eyes slanted and how dominating his presence was gave you this exciting feel in your core. Your thighs clenched when he stopped in front of you, one of his hands gently tugging your wrist to unwrap the gift you were beholding from him; your dripping blood.

“May I see it, love?”

You held back a whine as you nod, never looking away from his eyes. It seemed like his wounds and pain were healed. The bruise that was near his eye disappeared.

He moved your hands away from your bleeding lip. His eyes gazed upon your blood coated fingertip. He was trying hard to control himself. His jaw clenched as he reached his hand closer to your lips, peering down at you through his eyelashes.

“May I?”

“Yes.”

Your heart was beating fast as he glided his finger over your blood. Like he was a scientist, he sucked your blood off your finger and it was like tension rolled off of him. He towered over you and placed tender hands on your cheeks, gently pulling your face closer to his.

Both of your heads touched and you couldn’t deny how this situation made you feel.

“Do you know how long I wanted to taste you, doll?” His head tilt made you feel like he was taunting you, his words making your head turn into the thought of that, “Every damn month when you show up on my doorstep with that pretty little face of yours, your smell overwhelms me.”

You couldn’t help the whine that left your lips. Your body squirmed around, hips trying to reach him but he inched his lower half away.

“Did you know?” He asked, his warm breath clouding your senses as he turned you into mush.

“No.”

He breathed in deep. His thumb started to trace your cheek in delicacy as he stared at your face for a while. Relishing the small reactions you gave to his touch, his words.

“Would you give me the permission to taste you even more? Touch you where you want it?”

You gazed up at him with fast nods. Your body was heated with this lustful energy and you just wanted him now selfishly. Like all of the small dreams you had of him came true.

“Need you to use your words, sweetheart.”

“Yes…please.”

His tongue glided across his lips at your words, your eyes concentrated on how they glistened after. The light of the moon fell perfectly on you both. His eyes bounced to your lips and to your eyes and when you nodded again to push him to the edge, his lips engulfed yours.

It was gentle. His hands moved to your hair, to your neck, to your face, anywhere that he could touch you. He started to guide you down so you two could sit on the wide staircase, comfortable enough than standing. He leaned back on the railing, the sensual kiss pursuing. He licked your lips and rolled you on top so you were straddling him.

He produced deep grunts when he tasted your blood and when your hip started to grind against his in a desperate manner. He felt your wetness soak his boxers, his dick erecting harder at that feeling.

You moaned when his tongue experimentally prodded against yours. He assumed from your reaction it was alright and his tongue met yours again, your hands combing through his hair for some form of grounding. His nails traced your back in a repeated pattern as he bucked his hips into yours and you moaned in surprise, breaking the kiss.

The both of you catched your breaths, your chest heaving. His spit combined with yours covered your mouth, the blood he went in search for gone. You gulped and was ready to kiss him back, but his face had gone to the crook of your neck. His fangs grazing your skin, earning him shuddery breaths and goosebumps from you.

He nibbled in different areas to find your sweet spot. He listened to your every reaction and when he finally found the spot, he began sucking, and placed his hands on your hips to help you grind against his crotch. He didn’t give you a hickey, no, with a test of his fangs, he bit into your neck, holding you still as you gasped out.

“Shit!” You muttered, your forehead laying on his.

He drank your blood slowly as he didn’t want you to pass out on him but fuck, he wanted you to get used to this. He couldn’t get enough of your blood. He groaned when it reached his tongue. It was hard for him to stop, especially when you moaned and whined next to his ear, urging him to keep doing it.

But he let go. His desperation was clear when he licked over the spot he bit into to swallow more of your blood. He looked over at his bite mark proudly, loving the way you were marked. With your blood covering his fangs and mouth, he looked up at you.

“How did it feel, love?”

You moaned, arms wrapped around his neck as you continued to grind on him.

“It felt good.”

“Yeah?” He slowed your grinding, wanting you to look at him for a moment. “I enjoyed it. Your taste fucking gives me life.” He planted a kiss on your cheek, pecking his lips to your jawline, chin, neck, before grazing your lips, coating yourself in your blood, “What else did you want me to do, huh?

You hummed as you tried to push down on his clothed dick again, but his hands held a firm grip on your hips. “Fuck, Bucky, please.” You whined desperately into his ear, earning yourself a deep chuckle. “This isn’t funny at all.”

“I need you to use your words, doll. I’m not gonna do anything else unless you give me permission.”

“Just shut up and kiss me.”

“My pleasure.”

Your lips crashed onto his. This time it was passionate. He let his fangs graze your lips and every time you shuddered or moaned, he would hump against you. You tugged on his tongue and he hummed, his hands gripping on your hips tightly now.

He did the same to you, but he eased you down on your back, his knee spreading your legs open. He soon planted kisses all over your face and neck, his hands clasping your shirt so he could unbutton it. You watched him, seeing his hands expertly doing so.

You looked at the beautiful sight in front of you. With his beefy body on top, no shirt on, and the clear erection he was keeping in his boxers, you only got more wet. You wanted to clamp your thighs together but he knee kept spreading you apart.

Bucky took your shirt off and stared lustfully at your uncovered breasts. He started to massage them, giving you tiny peeks to see if this was pleasuring for you. When he got his answer, he licked the nipple and relished in the way you rolled your head back, your back arching at the sudden warm temperature.

He gave your boobs the attention they deserved. With one hand massaging the other or squeezing your nipple sometimes while he sucked and licked the other and then he would switch. You could only moan at the worship he was giving your body, your hands beginning to tug on his hair.

He sucked on one of your breasts before releasing it with a pop, circling his spit over your nipples. He glanced at your disheveled self, “Does this feel good, love?”

You groaned at the raspiness in his voice. Nodding, your face scrunched in pleasure, “It feels good, Bucky.”

“Finally responding to my questions, hm?” He nibbled on your ear, his hands dragging their way towards your shorts, teasingly tugging on the hems of it, “You know how to be good, huh?”

“Mmhmm,” You whined, “I know how to be good.”

Bucky grinned. With a slow taunt, he got rid of your shorts and placed them somewhere near. He dragged his fingers towards the outline of your panties, rubbing his thumb in a circle on the inside of your thighs. He hummed at your desperate pleas, leaning himself closer as he started to kiss your jawline.

His fingers, so close yet so far, grazed your pussy through your underwear and you whined, bucking your hips up to find his fingers. He gently tapped your cheek so you could open your eyes, and cupping your cheek so softly, he whispered, “I want you to stare at me while I finger you.”

Fuck.

You nodded, staring into his eyes that intently stared into yours. You couldn’t even watch his fingers take your panties off or watch his fingers barely miss your throbbing cunt. You wanted to look away from his eyes so you could grab his wrist and do the work instead, but his eyes held you in your place.

One finger found your clit and you quietly gasped, resisting yourself to flutter your eyes shut. His finger started to rub your clit. Your thighs clamped on his hand but he used his knee to widen your legs again.

The more he waited and teased, the more wet you got.

“Bucky, please—“

“Shhh,” His finger dipped to your entrance and you whined, trying to grind on his finger but he simply moved it away, “It’s okay, doll. You’ll get what you want soon enough. Just keep those precious eyes on me.”

His finger went back to your wet pussy and he gathered your slick, humming when he realized how wet you were for him. Tilting his head, he found your entrance and with one finger, he pushed his finger little by little, watching how your eyebrows bunched up together and much you wanted to look away but you kept your eyes on him, letting him soak in your pleasured expression.

He didn’t move his finger for quite some time, letting you grind helplessly on his finger to find the relief yourself. The sight alone had him leaking in boxers.

Then he started to pump his finger in and out, slowly, testing you. You moaned, your hands trying to find something to grasp on. The obscene and slick noises coming from your pussy and your moans were the only sounds around you guys.

Your hand grabbed onto the railing behind you. The intense staring was hot and it only made you want more of his fingers inside of you, pumping fast. You wanted him to find your release. Let him stare at you while you orgasm.

You moaned loudly when he started to pick up his pace, his other hand finding your breasts. He spit on them, using his spit like a lube as he massaged your boobs like he did before.

“Bucky.” You drawled out his name, mumbling cuss words under your breath, “Don’t stop, please.”

But like a tease he was, he pulled out his finger, smirking when you groaned. You pulled yourself up on your elbows and glared at him, “You’re such an ass, you know that?”

He shrugged.

“Bucky—“ You gasped when he inserted two fingers inside you. You huffed, resting on your back now at the new feeling, ignoring even staring at him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Am I an ass now?”

Frustrated, you shot out your hand to his boxers and touched his throbbing dick. He grunted, eyes closing shut. His stomach tightened when you began stroking him through his boxers.

“Shit doll.” He groaned out, quickening his pace with his fingers. “This makes me want to fuck you so bad.”

“Fuck me, please.”

He pulled out his fingers again, much to your dismay, but he pulled down his boxers with your help. You stared at his dick and the way his precum glistened and leaked out. You supposed there was always another month to suck the hell out of it.

He settled you into a position as he pumped his dick. His eyes relished in the sight of your wet pussy, seeing the way it clenched around nothing. He bit his lip and positioned his dick to your entrance, looking at you, “Are you comfortable?”

“Yeah.”

Bucky used your slickness to lube the tip of his head. Guiding it to your hole, he slowly inched his dick inside, losing all of his self control when he heard you strung out moans and gasps.

He pushed himself all the way inside, his head over yours and his arms besides your head. Veins popped out from his neck as he shuddered at the feel of your pussy stretching and taking his dick.

Clenching his eyes, he bottomed out and the both of you groaned at the feeling. Your hands wrapped around his arms, nails digging into his skin. He grunted, snaking his mouth to your neck where he thrusted his hips.

You moaned and he couldn’t help himself anymore. After years of not having sex, he couldn’t help but to chase your high.

“I’m so sorry, doll.”

“Why are you—fuck!” You shouted.

Bucky slapped his hips against yours repeatedly, grunting each time he did. His arms gave up on him as he wrapped them around your back while you wrapped yours around him. He listened to your breathy moans in his ear, the primal rage in him wanting to go harder, but he restrained himself from doing so.

He felt the way your boobs moved up and down on his chest and when you started grinding your hips against him at the same pace he was going at. It was all so warm, he knew he couldn’t hold in his release for much longer if you kept doing this.

“Where do you want me to cum, doll?” He groaned out, caging you closer to him. “I, fuck, you feel so good. The way you’re clamping down on me, shit, feels like heaven.”

“Cum in me…please, sir.”

“Fuck.”

He didn’t speed up his movements but the nickname you used for him lit up a fire in him. He kissed your neck, licking over the mark he made, now littering you with purple hickeys. “You have no idea how good you feel. How badly do you want to cum?”

“Very badly?”

“Yeah?” He thrusted deeply, you moaning loudly, “You want to cum? You can cum, love. Want you to cum while I’m fucking you like this. I know this pussy wants to cum so bad. Come on, doll, cum. You got this.”

You moaned. The coil in your stomach churned when he talked to you. So cooing. With one last thrust, your thighs clenched as you groaned, cumming while he fucked you through it.

“I got you, fuck, yeah, I got you.”

He didn’t hold out for long after you did as he grunted and came inside of you. You hummed when he did, your pussy becoming sensitive the more he slowly thrust into you to finish both of your releases.

Panting, his head fell onto your shoulder, giving you tiny kisses where his mouth was. He pulled out his dick and watched his cum leak out. Fuck, there was no way he could consider you just his cat-sitter anymore.

He used his boxer to wipe down there for you, apologizing when you moved your hips away. You yawned, the tiredness catching up to you. Bucky grinned and lifted you up, letting you wrap around him as he carried you to his bedroom.

“If you get pregnant, I swear I won’t leave you.”

You laughed against his neck, “I have the arm implant. Trust me, I’m not getting pregnant, Bucky.”

“So my name is Bucky now, huh? No more sir?”

“Oh, shut it.”

He cleaned you up in his own bathroom. You fell asleep in the tub before he even finished. Cleaning himself off, he puts you in clean nightwear clothes and carries you to his bed. He covered you in blankets and kissed your forehead before moving to the other side, cuddling you.

It was safe to say you came over more than once a month.

#bucky smut #smut #bucky barnes smut #vampire bucky #marvel smut #vampire bucky smut #vampire smut #firsttimeeverwritingsmutlikethis #buckysmut #buckybarnessmut #biting kink #blood kink #buckylowkeybeingteasingyou #x reader smut

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sprout-fics · 1 year

Text

Snowblind

Part One of Snowblind

(Simon "Ghost" Riley x F! 'Fix' Reader)

Wordcount: 6.5k Tags: Angst, Fluff, Medic/Sniper Reader "Fix", Body heat sharing, Reluctant cuddling, Pining, Longing, Slow Burn, Injury/Sickfic Warnings: Referenced childhood trauma including verbal abuse A/N: This is the first in a series of oneshots following the romantic development between you (Codename "Fix) and the man known only as "Ghost"

Summary:

He's stolen the breath from your lungs, sucked it dry and robbed you of your ability to speak. You can only blink in the darkness, feeling your dry eyes chafe and sting as you desperately try and comprehend the enigmatic forces that possessed him to do this.

You shudder, long and hard, feeling the tremor crack outwards like crevasses in a glacier, fissuring like the rifts in your heart. Ghost can feel it, you know he can. Yet the only response your trembling elicits from him is his hand curling into the knob of your spine like a gnarl in an ancient tree. When he breathes you can feel the rise and fall of his chest, like a gentle tide sweeping over your toes at the beach, luring you out to sea.

Tag List: (Reblog this post to be added to future fics from this series! If you'd like to be removed please DM me!)

@dankest-farrik @zwiiicnziiix @moondirti @sritashimada @ladiilokii @yeyinde @sandinthemachine @verdandis-blog @guyfierriii @fan-of-encouragement @starlitnotes

The air is thin in the mountains. Here, up in the sky, the oxygen settles downwards towards the earth and away from your form perched against the cliffs. The frostbitten air of the peaks scraped hard against your lungs as you breathe in, scorching the back of your throat and setting a cold brand burrowing into your veins. There’s a blooming ache in your chest, one that can’t be quelled no matter how you breathe.

You know it's bad, you're panting, mouth open and sucking the frigid air deeper into your chest where it accumulates like a slow acting poison. It bleeds into your blood and races along the underside of your chilled flesh, biting your bones with a dull, insistent ache. The sharpness of the sunlight against the pristine snow feels like it's dancing off the back of your eyelids, searing your vision even with your vision scrunched shut.

You'd heard your local informant whisper something about the curse of the sheer whiteness back in the village, rambling in halting English of the word: 'Snowblind'.

White, pristine white, the color of lace and freshly pressed dinner napkins. The color of the pearls resting against your mother's throat. When she swallows your eyes dart up to her face. She's looking past the gauzy pale curtains of the banquet hall, outside to the hazy, dimming streetlights beyond. Her eyes are distant, sad.

"Keep moving, sergeant."

You blink several times, trying to clear your vision against the brightness that feels everywhere all at once, freezing and radiant and deadly despite its etherealness. At last, you cast a look over your shoulder, and there you meet the white mask of your comrade, only several steps behind you as your team trudges up one of the secluded mountain trails hidden within the tree line.

His eyes are dark, and for a moment you're startled by the contrast of them against the grey and white landscape around you. Yet they're just as cold, unflinching and unmoving, imbedded into you just as severe as the chill in your bones.

"Yes sir." You manage, and your eyes don't break from his despite your answer, voice cracked and dry. He'd warned you before the start of your journey to stay hydrated, and now your throat feels tacky with every swallow, sticking to itself like velcro.

"Another mistake." His voice clips against your ears, and you flinch, bunching the fabric of your pressed school uniform against your tiny fists. "When will you learn, oh daughter mine?"

"Ghost, Fix." A voice calls ahead, and you catch sight of Price at the head of your group, snow halfway up his calves as he turns to you both, face grim. "Keep up, we're burning daylight."

You nod, keeping a hold of your weapon as you breathe, let the freezing air settle in your chest before you're trudging forward once more, struggling against the thick layer of powder that clings to your greaves with every step.

Behind you, Ghost follows like a phantom inside your shadow, tailing the group and watching your six. You can hear him moving, can hear the crunch of snow under his giant weight as he follows in the trail Price is carving at the front. Usually, Ghost is silent despite his bulking, rippling frame. It's an uncanny ability, one that more than once has had you with your heart in your throat as he oozes from the darkness like a wraith. The man whispers through walls like they aren't there, clinging to shadows like they're his second skin. His presence is there and gone again, only to reappear behind you- unmistakable, searing, cataclysmic.

Now with every shift Ghost sounds like he's summoning an avalanche, shifting and rumbling ominously like the mountain itself. It feels like the ground moves under you with every strumming heartbeat, the trail invisible and eroded by white. Your muscles ache from the exertion of the climb, but you bite down hard on any complaints. The world around you fills in like a gaussian blur, and among it is the hazy, unknown shape of Ghost’s mask against the sheer whiteness of the landscape. Briefly you wonder if your legs give in, if you fall blind, if Ghost will be there to catch you before you collapse into the pillowy slush.

It's a selfish thought, one that has no place on your current mission. You know that if you fell, if you failed to stay alert for even a few moments it could quite likely prove to be fatal. The rogue group of mercenaries you're all hunting know these mountains far better than you, venturing down the slopes only to pillage the surrounding towns for supplies and fuel- leaving nothing but devastation and red stained snow in their wake.

For all you know they could be watching you right now, clocking your movements as your team sticks within the relative shade of the tree line. These mountains loom large over your form, pine and fir clinging to their rocky outcrops- a perfect hiding spot for snipers like yourself. Your white gear camouflages your team’s ascent towards the nearest abandoned outpost, where blood is still etched into the wood walls at the group's most recent slaughter.

Seek and destroy, Price had told you all. As simple as they come.

You can't seek past the snow blindness.

When you shake your head, try to blink away the dryness there you feel him behind you all at once, shrinking the scant few steps between you both until his form towers behind you even with the slope under your feet.

"Fix."

When he speaks your callsign it sounds like a wolf howling at the moon, primal, sacrosanct. It draws you in like a gravity well as he presses closer, just a hair's breadth away. The heat of him glows into your back like a furnace, form casting a shadow across you as he mercifully blots out the sun that leans low on the horizon.

"I'm fine." You respond to his silent question, and you turn your head so he can't see the redness around your eyes, the miosis that leaves your pupils lost in the sea of your irises. You know he'll just scold you for not bringing sunglasses like the rest of them- just another item in the litany of mistakes he seems to take note of no matter how hard you try.

They're applauding for him as he walks the stage. Your feet kick in the empty space between your seat and the ground. His smile is dazzling, blinding, drawing them in like the gravity of the sun itself. You can't stand to look, focusing your vision on the black tops of your shiny new shoes.

"Eyes up." Your mother snaps sharply, but her graceful smile never flickers. Only you can see the flicker of acridity hidden behind her eyes.

The bitter grimace that draws tightly across your face tastes as sour as the dry taste in your throat.

You make a point of jogging the next few steps to keep up with Gaz in front of you, feet crunching snow as you rip yourself free of his shadow behind you.

You can feel his eyes locked on your back.

You don't see the flicker of something there, feather-light and uncertain nestling in the frost-laden branches of his heart.

----

You reach the outpost just as the sun kisses the horizon.

It's a mess. There's bullet holes in the wood, blood still caked and frozen into the floorboards. A shattered mug sits on the tiny kitchen unit, coffee staining the frosted counter. The bodies are long since gone, but it feels as they never really left. Ghosts cling to the broken panes and desolate interior. There's a poster next to the shot-out TV with a flaking, gaping hole through the singer's chest. You think it might be Freddie Mercury. You aren't sure.

The team around you is silent, withdrawn. Part of it is the grueling trek up the mountain, the silence that fell over you all with the knowledge you were in enemy territory. Now here, in the gravesite of others, there's a stillness that's more profound, lachrymose. The boots of your comrades thump and creak over the floorboards as they survey the damage, look over the claret blemishes painting an abstract against the walls.

"We're setting up here for the night." Price announces just as your boots toe the corner of the sole couch in the common area. Part of the stuffing has fallen out. Like a toy shredded by a teething puppy. "It's not much, but it'll have to do."

You listen idly, frowning at your feet as they blur in and out of focus. The lights are out, and the dimness of the setting sun has long shadows stretching against the walls. The lamps probably still work, but turning them on is begging for a shower of bullets while you all rest, betraying your position like a midnight beacon.

It hurts to keep your eyes open. They feel itchy, raw, like you've been crying without the tears. You're tired of seeing white, nothing but white, but here in the dimness of the cabin it feels even more difficult to keep track of the things in front of you. Every time you try and focus it summons a sharp throb against your temples, like icepicks lodging themselves in a frozen outcrop. When you wince, it’s where the others can’t see it.

"I'll take first watch." Ghost offers grimly, and you hear the sound of him unshouldering his pack.

"I'll take second." You volunteer readily, looking up and catching the white of his mask.

White, white, sparkling, shimmering, too bright, incandescent like the afterburn of staring into a lightbulb-

"You can hardly see."

You blink, not sure if the haziness in your vision has somehow manifested in your hearing. Yet when the wavering after-effects subside you find yourself staring at the other four members of your team who have all turned to meet your gaze.

The chill from the mountain gives way to a heat itching along your skin, thorny and warm. You can remember running your hands under hot water after being outside in the cold for too long, the sting smarting against your knuckles and palms. Their gazes rake over you, and when you swallow there’s the cold, blank aftertaste of snow in your mouth.

"I-I'm fine." You try, but your voice is rough, cotton mouthed.

None of them move, and in the growing darkness you think you see Price frown.

Your heart drops straight down to your boots.

Gaz is the first to move, shifting on his feet before taking a few steps towards you.

"Let me see." He offers, drawing his kerchief down past his nose. His breath fogs into the air, and when his hands reach for you they seek to take up all the light in the room.

You stay still, grimacing even as he tilts your head up to see your eyes. It takes everything in you to not tear yourself away, to hiss and spit like a feral cat at his hands on you. You don't want him to see, don't want any of them to see. If they can just look away, can avert their eyes and not see you for what you are, trying desperately to keep up with them and failing even so, then you'd be able to bear this much.

"Soap, light." Gaz instructs, and out of the corner of your eyes you see the dimness of Soap's outline lift a flashlight up to illuminate your face. You hiss at the light, scrunching your eyes shut as the back of your eyelids throb.

The stage lights are too bright. You can't see the crowd. When you hover nervously into your mother's side she rests a hand atop your hair. It feels like a tiger claw.

"It's not bad." You try, offering a small surrender in hopes of preventing a total capitulation. Gaz only shakes his head.

"You need to keep your eyes shut, give them a chance to heal." He tells you plainly, releasing his grip on your chin. Soap's flashlight mercifully vanishes, and for a moment you're thrown into complete and utter darkness, mentally grappling for an anchor, for something to hold onto. When you wobble on your feet, Soap's hand is at your elbow. It burns.

"Gaz is right." Price states gruffly from where he stands behind the two men next to you. "I need your eyes sharp for tomorrow. No watch for you tonight."

That itch inside you burns higher, souring the inside of your mouth with a biting aftertaste. You want to argue, want to protest, but you know it's a futile effort. Price is right, you know that. Even so, the scorch under your skin urges you to lash out, to somehow convince your captain that you can still pull your weight, that you aren't a hindrance, that you deserve to be there just as much as the other men around you.

You'll only end up sounding like a petulant, whining child, all for the useless, performative effort of staking your place here.

"I'll take second watch." Soap offers in the terse silence that follows. His voice is low, a mere murmur in the growing darkness. Then, to you: "Rest up, lass. Consider yourself lucky you get a full night's sleep, eh?"

You don't feel lucky. You feel rotten, a spoiled gem compared to the dazzling pieces next to you, shining radiantly even in the shadows.

"Yes sir." You mutter, wishing for all the world the snow would sift down over your form, bury you there in its pristine, glittering frost.

---

The cabin is colder than a coffin when the sun goes down- pitching it into complete, unmitigated darkness.

The sleeping bags are sprawled between the TV and couch, well away from the entrance and partially shielded by the half-wall of the kitchen. There's not much room for four people, but the proximity is a welcome one. The blotted rug offers a small reprieve from the harsh floorboards, but even then the cold manages to seep through the woven fabric, into your sleeping bag.

Beside you, Soap shifts restlessly, twisting, turning, and mumbling. You know he's not truly resting, too pent up and anxious to let the velvet whisper of sleep wash over him. Like you, he must sense the strange spirits in this place, hear their voices over the low, lonely whistle of the wind outside the window. Price and Gaz sleep soundly near it, under the broken pane, unmoving and silent. You wonder if they're actually asleep, or simply feigning it just as you do.

The MRE in your stomach churns uncomfortably, cold before you had managed to finish it. The steam had curled against your fingertips, warmed by the scant few minutes Price had allowed you all to use the tiny stove unit. You had wanted to place your hands against the door, trying to imbue feeling back into your frozen knuckles regardless of the burn it would impose.

You seem to be doing that often, trying to counterbalance only to teeter near the precipice, a dangerous and aleatory asymmetry that you can't control. Desperately trying to take orders as they're given, to anticipate them in the way the others seem to read the minds of the brothers next to them. You're striving, contending, toiling in the way that only you can. Yet every time you try to follow them as the axis shifts you're again feeling the world lurch under you as they march ever onwards.

Too cold and too hot, a feverish flippancy that leaves you reeling in the darkness, shivering under your bedroll.

Soap flinches in his sleep, as if something has brushed over his shoulder. You hear him mumble and twist, then settle once more. It's a clear night outside, hardly any clouds. Moonlight streams through the trees outside, dancing in haphazard shapes through the broken panes of the window. A single ray illuminates the top of your sergeant's shoulder, and you follow the curve of it downwards across the planes of his back hidden under the fabric.

He'd tried to break your sulking earlier, after you had all eaten and had begun to settle in. You were laying out your bedroll when Soap had waggled his eyebrows at you, ever flirtatious and good-natured.

"Going ta be a cold one, lass. Might need to share body heat."

You'd scoffed at him, stomach still twisting from your interaction earlier. No, you'd prefer to lick your wounds in private, under the solitary moonlight.

"In your dreams, Soap."

"Aye, a man can dream alright."

You hadn't dignified him with a response, huffing and burrowing into your sleeping bag.

Now, nearly an hour later, teeth chattering, shivering hard, you wish you had taken him up on the offer. If only you had zipped your two bags together and nestled into him, trying to leech warmth from his body, then you wouldn't be worried your teammates would find another body here in this desolate cabin come morning.

It had to be well below freezing. Even with all your gear on, feet still tucked into your boots, it's not enough. The cold flays against your flesh like a jagged knife, stabbing inside and twisting, separating mind from body as you try to grapple with the shadows in your thoughts.

Fall asleep, give in to the temptation of rest and pray you wake up come dawn. Stay awake, watch the hazy, dappled moonlight dance across the floorboards as you long to sleep. Scoot closer to Soap, surrender and plead with him to share what little heat he has to spare. Keep to yourself, refuse to show any sign of weakness lest they notice, lest they leave you even farther behind.

If you could make it through the night, if you could be rested come morning, could get up and keep up, then maybe they wouldn't look down on you. Maybe then they'd even consider you one of them.

A shifting noise and a sigh, not from Soap this time. No, it's behind you, near the doorway. Ghost perches near the window, hidden in the shadows as he keeps watch. If he's noticed Soap's restless slumber he doesn't given any indication.

You'd seen him settle there, his weapon across his lap, seated in one of the few remaining chairs. He'd easily dwarfed it, legs spread and boots planted on the floor. Your eyes had traced his toes of his boots, skimmed across the snow that had yet to melt from them. When your gaze had darted up to the white of his mask you found his gaze leveled at yours, eyes piercing and intent from behind the darkness of bottomless charcoal. You'd paused, watching them, but the expression there had been blank, indecipherable.

Watching, always watching. Cataloguing your every move, taking note of your mistakes but saying nothing- judging but never speaking, like souls of the dead.

He's been as still as a grave this whole time, sinking deep into the darkness and letting it absorb him like an old ally. There had been minutes you'd forgotten he was even there, his presence shrinking slowly and subtly into nothingness like he himself was a phantom. It's only when he shifts, when you can hear his soft breath curling against his mask that he makes himself known. Ghost scrapes along the periphery of your thoughts like a specter, trailing skeletal fingers along the inside of your skull in a freezing, indelible imprint.

If there's ghosts remaining within the outpost then surely he's among them, not truly dead but never truly alive.

You wonder if he's cold to the touch too- if the iciness of his alleged heart extends like fissures across his flesh.

There's a guilty part of you that wants to find out, hard as it is to admit. In the same way that he presses at your back Ghost slinks within the outskirts of your mind. When he's there he's impossible to ignore. His size, his presence demands attention, respect, deference. With every move of his rippling shoulders he seems to echo in your thoughts endlessly, shifting and groaning like a rumbling mountain during a thaw.

He'd touched you once, one massive hand settling against your elbow during shooting practice. He'd never spoken, had let his palm cup your arm and lift it a fraction of an inch to correct you.

You shivered so hard your aim was off, and in the days that followed your thoughts roiled of him.

More than once you had caught yourself imaging those same gloved hands spread across the meat of your thighs- whispering along the small of your back, smoothing along your ribs and up your chest as they dug in, flipped you over as he pressed the full length of his frame into your back, smothering you into the soft surface of a mattress as he-

You scrunch your eyes shut automatically, trying and failing to ward off the haunting temptation that was your superior. Yet even then the sound of his voice bounces off the inside of your head, tantalizing and forbidden. It's poison, syrupy sweet and spilling like honey over your lips. You can indulge, you can taste, but only once before fate pulls you like a riptide into the river Styx. Forever damned.

Even if you were to yield to that unconscious, taboo seduction- allow yourself to accept those festering, unnamed feelings inside you, it would be for nothing. Ghost wasn't a man who developed affections towards others. Alliances, camaraderie, these were things needed in war. Yet the profound, prohibited thing as attraction, infatuation- no. He was a soldier, destined to be one until the day he died. You knew just as well as he did that there was never guarantees either of you would come home in anything other than a coffin.

It's hard to love a man who's already dead.

Soap shifts suddenly in front of you, recoiling in the darkness at a force you can't see. When he breathes it's to mutter a curse, and abruptly you hear his sleeping bag zip open, feel the floor tremble as he scoots himself free. He doesn't notice you're awake, wide eyed in the darkness as you watch his broad form unfurl from under the confines of his bedroll. When he at last stands above you he blots out the pale light from the windows, towering like a gnarled oak tree over your huddled form.

His boots creak against the wooden floorboards as he skirts around you, around the couch towards the phantom hovering by the doorway. His chattering shudder trails off into a mutter as he speaks to Ghost in a low, lilting accent. You can't hear the words, but you do hear the rough scrape of Ghost's voice, like soot sifting down from the sky after a dying wildfire. You want it to burn you, scorch off the frostbite from your fingers and let the flames light a wavering, flickering spark within you.

The conversation doesn't last long. You hear the sound of the chair scraping the floor as Ghost stands, yields the post to the Scotsman and begins to circle to where you and the other two men lay against the floor. It occurs to you too late to feign sleep, to try and quell the tremble of your frame as he approaches. By the time you realize his feet are less than a step away from the top of your head, and you hear Ghost pause as he traces the outline of your shivering form in the darkness.

"Fix."

The sound is a mere whisper so as to not wake Price and Gaz, only feet away. If you hadn't been listening you wouldn't have heard it, mistaken it for the cadaverous whistle of the wind outside the shot gunned walls. You try to pretend like it's just that- like Ghost hadn't just whispered your callsign in the midnight stillness, a deathly temptation of which there's little return.

Yet Ghost sees you go rigid in your sleeping bag, and when he echoes the nickname again it feels like an icicle breaking and shattering into the frosty ground below.

"Fix." He whispers again, and you can hear the exasperation in his voice when he sighs. "I know you can hear me."

You sigh yourself, giving up the farce of forced sleep and letting your eyes flutter open. They feel raw, too dry. When your vision shifts it summons a dull, insistent throb behind your eyelids- an aftereffect of the snow blindness.

"I'm trying to sleep." You manage, voice hoarse and teeth chattering with the burgeoning stages of hypothermia.

You feel the floor shift- and suddenly Ghost is crouching in front of you, blotting out the moonlight with his hulking, massive form. The suddenness of his shape in front of you is difficult to decipher, and when your vision wavers the throb at your temples sharpens, penetrating.

"Ghost-" You try, but the man before you is silent. You're unable to see what he's doing between the darkness and your own strained eyesight, but you can hear him shifting, hear the slide of cloth against skin before a hand suddenly braces against your forehead.

It's cold.

"You're freezing." He remarks, and you think you imagine the undercurrent of concern in his voice- a strange hallucination from your overexerted senses.

"I-I'm fine." You protest, shifting to try and meet his eyes to prove your point. You only succeed in catching the pale outline of his mask, his eyes boring holes into you and setting a shiver racing along your spine.

Yet that's nothing compared to the abruptness of Ghost's bare fingers digging into the fabric of your sleeping bag, burrowing beneath your hood and pressing on the underside of your jaw.

You swallow.

Your pulse flutters against his fingers like a trapped bird, wings spread and beating the frozen air around you. He's never been this close before. He's hardly ever touched you- much less with his bare hands. The sensation of it threatens to throw you from that precipice where you balance precariously, falling once more into that asymmetry you fail to understand. You can only pray that your rapid, strumming heartbeat doesn't betray you, doesn't let him sense the thoughts you're holding silent within your heart.

Yet the only thing Ghost does is huff at you, displeased at your wracked, trembling body. His touch vanishes from you, and for a moment you think that's the end of it, just another flaw he's secretly filed away to review at his leisure.

What you don't expect, however, is for him to unzip your bag in a single, fluid motion.

You're too surprised to protest, and when you open your mouth it's only to hiss at the sharp, unrelenting freeze that greats you outside the layer. You nearly bite at him for throwing you into the cold, your irritation from earlier still roiling low in your stomach and incensed by this sudden action of his. Yet instead, you still as Ghost's hand wraps itself around your waist, and with a grunt he hauls you closer, closer until he's all but curled around you, tucking you into his front.

You don't move.

You're unsure if you even can, completely taken aback as you are. It feels like your voice has died in your throat, brain working into overdrive as you desperately try to regain reality of the situation. The wind whistles through your mind as it empties into nothingness, entirely uncertain and shaken by the actions of your Lieutenant.

Ghost doesn't speak either, simply wraps himself around your shaking figure inside your bag, tucking his chin at the crown of your head and tangling his legs with yours. His arms secure around your back- feeling for all the world like prison bars, preventing your escape. When he breathes, you feel the air tickle the top of your hood, curl and dissipate into the midnight stillness.

Yet you still flee back to shore. Your entire form is rigid with uncertainty, a trepidation unmatched by your desire for warmth. The vulnerability of this, of being wrapped in the arms of your dead-eyed superior, the one who silent judges your every move and keeps his secrets close to his heart, is immeasurable. It feels like you've been stripped bare and laid out on the snow, skin engulfed in a cold brand that threatens to send your system into shock.

When you finally summon the strength to try and wriggle away, Ghost's clasp only tightens on you wordlessly, preventing your retreat. He hums a displeased sound, and that should be enough to silence you but it’s not, not when you feel it echo inside your ribs and spark that tender, infant flame there you keep just for him.

"G-Ghost." You try, voice trembling- from apprehension, from the touch of the gelid air around you, you aren't sure. "I-I can keep warm on my own. You don't-"

"Stop that."

You still at his voice. It would be a reprimand, harsh and direct like all his orders, if it weren't for the undertone of something that felt dangerously close to concern.

When you swallow it feels like you're drinking in tepid water, the taste obscured by the ice crystals that dance silently in the moonlight.

"Stop...what?" You ask, and you sound for all the world like the child you've tried not to be, always fumbling, uncertain, and afraid.

Ghost goes quiet for a moment, and it occurs to you he may not have expected a response from you. He doesn't move, and the only indication he's not a corpse is the faint thrum of his heartbeat under your fingertips that hover at his collarbone.

"Trying to do everything yourself." Ghost tells you at last, and the sharp breath you suck in sinks into your lungs like tenterhooks.

Ah. It seems he even sees that mistake.

Your insides twist like the dull grip of a knife against flesh, and you grimace where he can't see it, feeling that acrid, bitter taste run foul across your tongue.

"I-I don't." You try, but it's a paltry defense at best, a useless one that you know he won’t accept.

"You do." He returns plainly, but there's no venom in his voice. It's just a simple observation, one you yourself can't see through your own stubborn snow blindness.

You fall silent, and whatever burgeoning warmth that glows between your two intertwined forms fails to reach your heart.

"I have to try." You whisper at last, and your voice sounds fragile in the darkness around you, wrapping across your form and keeping you secured within his embrace. The confession feels mephitic across your lips, souring within your chest along with all the doubts you hold there.

Ghost doesn't respond. You're not sure if he's starting to fall asleep or if he's waiting for you to speak.

Balances and counterbalances. Weighing the truth against your tongue, wanting to confess your sins and your guilts to a darkened window that watches your trembling form.

"I'm not...strong like you." You whisper, and the words are barely audible, shaken free of your chest but sifting downwards like powder from a frosted fir tree. "Not like the rest of you. Not yet."

Glaciers crack and shift inside your chest, groaning with ancient memories as they dislodge themselves to an unknown future. You're lost among them, body frozen and heartbeat too fast, vision obscured by snow.

"I...don't want to be left behind."

And there's the truth of it all. The fear, the loneliness of failure, of not being enough for these men, of not being able to prove yourself capable to stand beside them. They hike higher into the hills, their backs blurred by your own failing sight until they at last vanish into a cloud of white. You're all that's left, figure rooted to the frost beneath your feet, waiting for the fatal ice to creep up your veins and into your heart.

"I expected better of you." An old opponent whispers into your ears, breath ghosting across your spine. "I guess I should have never expected at all."

The truth stings sharper than any wound, leaking past your flesh and bleeding red into the snow like the men who once lived here. You can taste their lingering sorrow in the splintered air, can feel their regrets echo in your own ribcage like the affliction that haunts you still. The tightness there feels like you're buried under permafrost, starved of oxygen.

You think the words have echoed out into emptiness, that Ghost is immune to them, having already surrendered to sleep. Yet when he shifts, you feel warmth spill from him like a cup overfilled. It feels like hot water over your chilled, cracked lips, settling low in your stomach with an uncomfortable weight.

"No one fights alone."

It's hardly a whisper, his voice, yet it sounds like the final piece of the mountain giving way, snow, rock, and debris cascading over your rampant thoughts and drowning out any other noise. Catastrophic, cataclysmic, inexorable.

You curl into him. You can't help it. The pressure of it all forces you to bury yourself in him in a vain attempt to escape.

"You see my mistakes." You hoarse, throat raw, tight with an emotion you dare not name.

Ghost is silent like the grave, and that fact alone threatens to send you spiraling off that axis, into a desperate imbalance you'll never be able to rectify no matter how hard you try, how you strive to stand beside these men.

"I see you." He mutters, voice strangely fragile, almost hurt. "Just you."

You freeze.

And once again, the axis shifts.

Yet this time, you're not alone. Ghost keeps a hand at your elbow, helping you correct, maintaining your balance.

You exhale hard, letting go of a breath you didn't realize you were holding. The warmth of it curls into your cheeks as it reflects off Ghost's tac vest, the one your nose is all but pressed against. It absolves you of guilt, of the sins you're so afraid of, the ones that whisper in your shadows. When it dissipates, it's alongside the ghosts of the outpost that sigh, evaporate into nothingness.

Not an avalanche then, but a slow and steady snowfall from above, blanketing your senses in a gentle, downy realization.

He isn't the man you thought he was.

Ghost's gaze doesn't judge you, doesn't mark your faltering steps with sinister intent. He doesn't see you as they did, a blemish in contrast to a grand tapestry of triumph. His stare doesn't pass a verdict. He simply observes, takes you as you are, stands in your shadow ready to catch you if you stumble on the path marked by these men.

He sees you. Just you. As you are, no more, no less.

And you, you had been so blinded by the pristine, unblemished surface that you didn't even notice the beauty that lurked within the darkness.

That hope you had kept hidden under the ice of your heart, the one that had wanted to reach out for the man before you, seems to bloom like hellebores. Soft and somehow sturdy, you accept the things that are, and somehow find him waiting for you in the middle.

Him, unyielding, immobile, a steadfast mast when the inertia sweeps you out to sea. He's darkness against the light, a relief from the radiance of it all. His mask is snow sheer, but his gaze is dark like coals. Tinted black, like the bottomless pits of Tartarus, where dwells the spirits of which he fashions his name.

Ghost.

It should be the haunting wraith of the afterlife, tormented and distraught at all that has come to pass. Yet the man before you sinks into nothing but the present, grounding himself in ways you can only fathom. You want to lean against him, let him help you find the bedrock hidden under the snow, let him whisper your name in the way your heart so desperately craves. Not 'Fix'. Not your callsign, but your name. Yours.

You want him to see you, just you, and in turn smudge the charcoal from his own tinted eyes so you can see the iridescence underneath. Even if he doesn't feel the same, you crave the simple grace of knowing him, letting him yield a fraction of his heart to yours.

"Fix." Ghost mutters, and you wind the name around you like another layer, let it blanket you in warmth even if it's not meant to be.

"Sleep." He mumbles, and his own voice is tinged with fatigue. You nod against him, feeling his hand shift along your back as he settles with your frigid form in his arms.

He's not cold at all.

You know there will come time for you to understand your feelings towards him later, when you have both climbed down this mountain and into the lush valley below. Fragile though they are, you feel them thaw inside your chest, coalescing with the heat that he wraps around you. The emotions you harbor for this man, illicit they may be, spring forward in the twilight between light and darkness.

Ghost sighs, and the mere motion of it makes your heartbeat stutter in response, muscles falling limp and pliant within his embrace. It's nice, this. The steady frame of him feels like a wall shielding you from the wind, his chin braced atop your hood and his gloved hands pressed gently against your nape and the small of your back. He's large enough to dwarf you, this behemoth of a man. You should be scared of him, terrified of his strength and brutality. Yet all you feel is an undeniable sense of safety, here within his hold.

A wraith, perhaps. One that seeks your enemies, heralds their deaths with his own hands.

"You're warm." You whisper into his chest, arms bunched between you, his massive bicep your pillow.

"You're no longer shivering." He notes, and if you listen there's the trace of a smile there.

"…No." You agree, feeling the shudder in your limbs abate and warmth again instill itself against your flesh. "I'm not."

Yet he doesn't pull away, doesn't abandon you to frost, and you don't retreat, at last surrendering to his aid.

When you close your eyes, they no longer burn with the aftereffects of toxic brightness, and you realize that the darkness may be your salvation after all.

The night grows long against you both.

-----

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#simon ghost riley x reader #call of duty #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #cod #reader insert #my fic #my stuff #Series: of shadow and bone #tagging everyone who might be interested just to get a taglist going but if you don't want to be there please let me know ;w;#Absolutely no pressure #That being said I'm pretty proud of how this turned out #I really tried to push my limits with this one #I also like how the header turned out too #hopefully this gets notes ;w;

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shankss-magnificent-ass · 11 months

Text

Ashes and Broken Lamps

Mihawk X GN!Reader x Sir Crocodile (later)

Warnings: Smut, smoking, exhibitionism (if you squint), manhandling, cock worship, oral (male receiving), dry humping, nipple play, Slight dubcon, Threesome (slightly)

Word count: 1,605

"I want you to ravage me when we return to your room." You panted when Mihawk broke your kiss to nip and suck down your neck while he pinned you against the wall of an empty hallway.

You felt the raven-haired man grin against the skin of your clavicle, and he growled, “That’s much too far, I can’t wait that long.” The rumble of his voice reverberated through your chest making hot arousal coil so tightly between your legs that you started to tremble with need. Digging your nails into his back you panted, “If we do it here, we’ll get caught.”

Noting your reaction, Mihawk forced his knee between your legs, rearing back to watch you desperately rock your hips against his thigh trying to satiate the need clawing at your sanity. Dracule hummed, “That’s true, and while I don’t mind any of the guild members seeing me, I definitely don’t want them seeing my precious pet so vulnerable. That is for my eyes only, so don’t worry I’ll find us a secluded spot.” Mihawk grabbed your chin and started a voracious assault on your mouth. Nipping and biting at your lips in between forcing his tongue down your throat and laving his tongue around yours. It was a hypnotic dance that left you so entranced by him that you failed to notice him picking you up and carrying you into a nearby room. You only snapped back into reality when he dropped you onto the plush covers of a large bed.

This room was not one you had ever been in, but it was easy to tell whose room it was. While it was luxurious it was astringent both in design and smell. The bed took up most of the space, it had to be at least 10 feet (305 cm) long and nearly as wide. The most telling things in the room as to its ownership were a set of small stairs leading up to the bed, and the strong smell of cigar smoke that exuded from the sheets.

“This is Sir Crocodile’s room, he’ll be enraged at us for just being in here.” You gasp, as you tried to scamper off the bed while Mihawk got on.

“No, he won’t,” Mihawk grumbled as he grabbed your ankle, and dragged you underneath him, back to the side of the bed that you could only assume was the one Crocodile slept on. Your lover ran his hands over your sides scoring your form as he plotted his assault. Only to be displeased when you rolled over onto your back and pushed your palms against the wide expanse of his chest. “Please Dracule, he’ll kill us if he found out we’ve used his bed.”

“He won’t even know as long as we clean up after ourselves.”

“Drac!” You cried, thrashing to the side to try and get out from under him. Your heart sank when a loud crash fills the room. You and Mihawk looked behind him to see one of the bedside lamps laying shattered on the floor.

Mihawk grinned at you and chuckled, “You’ve already given us away, so we might as well finish our business.”

“We’re so dead.” You whine, trying to disappear into the mattress.

“I doubt that he’s had a thing for you since I brought you here. He’s even approached me about having a threesome with you. So I’m sure he’d be happy to have his sheets smelling like you.” He shrugged, gripping your hips and flipping you onto your back, and tugging on your ear lobe with his teeth when he felt you go limp under him in submission.

“And if he comes in to find us and wants to join?” You grumble, arching your back and grinding your ass against the prominent bulge in his trousers.

“That’s entirely up to you love, if you want him to join, I’m down for it. “ He responded, rearing up on his knees Dracule began to thrust his hips against you as he pulled off his shirt and threw it across the room. “Now do shut up about Crocodile, the only thing I want to hear is how much you want my cock or you screaming my name.”

You nodded and adjusted yourself, so you were leaning your weight against your arms that were crossed under your head. Mihawk wasted no time disrobing you, he took hold of the collar of your shit and ripped it down the middle, yanking off the tattered remains. He moved to your trousers next, hooking his fingers in the waistband and sliding them down to your knees. To make things easier on him, you rolled over and lifted your knees, letting him slide the fabric off along with your shoes. Dracule dove to your chest, lapping at and kissing your pert nipple while his hands hooked behind your knees using them to tilt your hips up, so he could rut against your core.

While his clothed cock provided you with much-needed stimuli, he made eye contact with you as he sucked your entire nipple and areola into his mouth. He smirked as he slowly started to pull away until his latch was broken, and it would pop out of his mouth. He repeated it to your other nipple running his nails down your back and making you arch up into him. You tangled your fingers into his hair, as you bucked up into him and moaned for more, “Please my love, I need more.”

Mihawk nipped your chest before pulling away and asking, “I’m going to need you to use your words pet. You will need to be descriptive though.”

“I want you to use your fat cock to make me forget about everything that isn’t you.” You begged, “I want you to not hold back… To take me like you want, to give me everything.”

Mihawk’s eyes darkened, glowering down at you like a predator. “Are you sure?” he asked, and when you nodded eagerly, he growled, “Then show me how much you love my cock first.”

Without skipping a beat you flipped him onto his back and went for his pants, hands hastily tugging the button open and the zipper down. Mihawk aided you by kicking off his boots, so you could ease off his pants. Your mouth watered at the sight of his hard cock as it sprung out of its confines. Mihawk grabbed a fist full of your hair before you could wrap your lips around it.

“Patience, let me get seated first.”

You pouted from between his legs as he leaned against the headboard and propped a few pillows behind his back. When he seemed satisfied with his position he used his grip on your hair to urge you closer. You let it push past your lips, making him moan and try to push your head down further. But you intended to do what he asked, to show him how much you loved his cock. So instead of letting him slide down your throat, you alternated between swirling your tongue around it and gently sucking on his frenulum and the slit on top as you bobbed your head up and down on what would fit comfortably in your mouth. Mihawk choked as you stroked up and down his shaft, spreading your drool over every inch of him, and tugged on his balls in time with your bobbing mouth with your other hand. The man’s grip on your hair tightened, as he grunted “Never knew you could suck my dick like this, you’ve been holding back on me naughty thing.” You smiled up at him, and finally let him bottom out in your throat. The musky scent of him made your head spin when it filled your nose as he pressed you into the patch of hair at the base of his dick. He used both hands in your hair to bob your head up and down the considerable length of his member.

You were far too engrossed in the salty musky taste of him to hear the bedroom door behind you open. Mihawk tightened his grip and lazily stared up at Sir Crocodile, whose eyes were locked on your bare form ass up on his bed, presenting your dripping and gapping hole to him. Mihawk smirked and pulled you off of his dick so you were looking into his golden eyes.

“I wasn’t finished yet!” you whined, wiggling your hips in frustration.

“I know love, but” Mihawk started.

“Please let me at least clean you up, look, you’re a mess” You pleaded.

Mihawk huffed, “Fine, but I need you to listen, can you do that?” He let you go when you nodded.

He sighed when you wrapped your little hand around his shaft and slowly licked up the drops of pre-cum that oozed out of his dick hole. He warily eyed Crocodile who was watching with hunger in his eyes.

“You know how I said Crocodile wanted a threesome with you?” Mihawk asked, making Crocodile’s eyes finally leave your form to lock onto him. Both men waited for you to hum in affirmation before Mihawk continued, “Would you do it? Let me share you with him?”

“Yes!” You panted, before trying to take Mihawk back down your throat.

Mihawk pulled you off of him and said, “You heard them Crocodile, little pet thinks they can take both of us.”

The large man rasped, “Suppose there’s only one way to find out if they’re lying.” You whipped around to see Crocodile kick the door shut behind him as he eyed you hungrily, his iconic cigar clenched tightly between his teeth.

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#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece scenario #mihawk #dracule mihawk #sir crocodile x reader #dracule mihawk x reader #sir crocodile #from the depths of the dragon's hoard #tma original #6/8/23 #no beta we die like men

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