Tumgik
#I think I'd pass out in fear
gunsandaprons · 1 month
Note
Robin! Clover! Other person who’s off-camera! How have ya’ll been doing these days?
Tumblr media Tumblr media
"We’re just happy to get everyone out of the Underground and experiencin’ what the Surface World has to offer! It’s been pretty funny watchin’ folks get startled by stuff that’s normal to us!"
"Remember when Mr. Starlo thought a deer was a horse?"
"Yup. Nearly got his teeth kicked in. Needless to say, movin’ fellas up to the Surface has been… a work in progress."
87 notes · View notes
Text
so tormented that i am currently working on two different stories about ex-druggie chicagoan jewish guys being in bands and supernatural forces fuck everything up. one features actual G-d and a messenger Angel is a central character and the other one has ghosts and shit.
the two are different enough that they are separate characters but similar enough that it's obvious that they are both based on myself. i'm doing bad btw.
5 notes · View notes
aquarianlights · 1 year
Text
✨️ I just kind of want to die rn. ✨️
#im srs tho#i feel fucking terrible#im still coming down from anesthesia and im so fatigued and tired#if it were not for echo i would take an overdose rn and be done with it#except for the fact i am horribly scared of respiratory depression#suffocating is one of my worst fears so...#i just really want to get a gun#ik my girlfriend has lots of guns#im not legally allowed to have a gun and idk how to find them on the black market#but since my gf has them... ive been thinking about it... thinking about waiting until we live together and waiting until echo passes#and then I'd have no issues just... taking one... it's not like I'd be keeping it or using more than one bullet#im sure she would forgive me and id write a note anyways#notes* rather... addressing multiple people personally with her being one of them. id apologize for using her gun but where else would i#get one? she is the only person ik who has guns coz her family is a hunting family.#oh well....that's been on my mind ever since i found out she has guns and also really wants us to live together. i always thought if one#were in the house with me that it would be so easy to use when i feel like this and just get it over with#instead i hesitate because i dont have the right methods... and i end up feeling okay or better later. only to come back to suicidal later#so a gun would be best i think... that way i can take care of it in the moment and get it over with. i just need a gun to do it.#unfortunately my girlfriend is the only one ik who has them so... it's gonna have to be hers#that's a long way off though. echo is only 9 years old and his breed lives into the 16-18 years old phase. i wont leave until echo is gone#depression#sad#sadness#suicidal#suicide#crying#pain#upset#personal#depressed
4 notes · View notes
bi-moonlight · 1 year
Text
.
#nura rambles#idk somehow it's easier to tap on tumblr post button and type in tags then open the journal and write there#my friend met someone and they r already talking serious topics like marriage and stuff and i'm happy for her but it's also a sign that idk#time is ticking and our lives are progressing and changing#and i am once again filled w anxiety and regret?? and thinking that i missed smth and am continually missing smth lacking smth#and also i finally accepted the idea of it being my choice to stay here and that the moving abroad ambition wasn't mine after all and now#that i'm past that i can see another thing that is and was anxiety fuelling and that's this constant not fear but just silent notion that#if my so in the future happens to be not a man there's a huge possibility of us moving abroad cause i'd want my kids to be able to exist#lmao i'd want to be able to marry my partner#but like it's out of my control rn so why am i worrying about smth that might not even happen and making it a huge problem and isolating#myself even in my thoughts uhhhhhh i haven't realised until now that it's been worrying me constantly tbh#and when i tried telling my mom about my anxiety framing it as time passing worrying me because i think our family's life hasn't changed in#the past 5 years at all and it's depressing and that it shocks me that my friends are apparently soon gonna start marrying and their older#siblings did and are having babies now while i'm a nervous mess only now figured i have sad and lost winter months of past few years to it#and my older brother is apparently stuck has been for 5 years#and my parents aren't getting younger and her takeaway was that i'm thinking of marriage and it terrifies me lol#yeah mom u should think of it when u tell me my character is difficult and wonder how anyone will fit me??#anyways time isn't real and i think i'm a little baby#this week is so long jfc
1 note · View note
angelltheninth · 7 months
Text
The Muzzle Problem
Pairing: Wriothesley x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, rough sex, muzzle, breeding, possessive sex, creampie, mentioned marking, doggie style, feral!Wriothesley
Word count: 0.7k
A/N: Expanding on that post I made the other day cause got damn I want him in a muzzle so bad!
Tumblr media
He fucked you like he hated you, and maybe in this moment he did. Not because you did something wrong per se, not because he had a reason to hate you, his pretty girlfriend, but all because you wanted to see what would happen when you put a muzzle on him while he fucked you.
"Think you're safe from me when my mouth is caged up?" The cold bars of the muzzle pressed against your face when he attempted to nuzzle in closer to you, his frustration palpable in the loud smacking of his hips into yours. "Think again, there's many way that I can mark you as mine." Your pussy tightened around his cock, legs feeling weak and suddenly you found yourself grateful that you had the bed to fall back onto.
You reached behind you and felt the cold cage of the muzzle, "You know you can't leave marks on me. What if someone saw? They'd know... ah... about us... and..." Wriothesley tightened his hold on your hips and pressed your hips fully against the bed, clit grinding against the pillow under you while he fucked you hard, fast, possessive, almost feral. "Wrio! Careful! Your hands!"
"My hands, my cum, my cock, yes all of them, I can mark you with all of them. I don't really have to though, do I? Because at the end of the day you already know that you're mine." Behind closed doors you were his, but to everyone else you were his right hand woman, to be respected and feared as such too. In both cases though you were his and he was yours, secretly ready whenever you called for him.
Unlike you Wriothesley didn't have any problem teasing you during work hours, which lead to situations like these, getting fucked on his bed right after the shift ended, a puddle between your legs and a pulsing ache that grew every time his cock sunk back into your wet...
"My pussy, it's all mine, and you know what? I think this pussy could use some of my cum in it. It's been so good for me lately, so good for me. You've been amazing, I don't know what I'd..." He groaned as you hooked your fingers on the muzzle and pulled him forward, causing his cock to sink in balls deep into your drooling cunt.
"There, yes, fuck... fuck me there..." Again you tugged on his muzzle and felt the full weight of him on top of you, doing everything you could to keep your ass smacking loudly against his, "Fuck me however you want, just don't leave any marks where people can see." Those were some very dangerous terms you just agreed to.
You could feel yourself dripping with arousal as he began going faster, fucking you like he wanted to see you break on his cock. And maybe he did, as punishment for denying him the pleasure of biting and kissing you. "Breed you, I'm gonna breed you, get my cum in your wet little cunt. Let's see who owns your pussy then huh? When you're dripping, when your womb is flooded with my cum. Say it, say it, say it!" Your hips met his one final time before your mind went blank with pleasure, warmth spreading both inside and out, your orgasm making your stiff against his rock hard body.
Hot cum rushed into your spasming walls, your abused, sensitive pussy taking all of it before he collapsed next to you.
A few minutes passed in silence, the only sounds being each other's breath, slowly getting back to normal. You turned to your side, trying not to squirm as Wriothesley's cum dripped down your thighs. He looked happy, hair very messy and eyes a little hazy still but happy. When you reached behind him and undid the clasp of his muzzle he let out a long sigh before opening his mouth wide, flexing the soreness out of his poor jaw.
"Sorry." You snuggled up to his chest and kissed him on the chin, "But it's not my fault you can't keep your mouth to yourself."
"Yes it is. You're too cute for your own good." Wriothesley pressed a long kiss against your forehead, another content sigh leaving his lips. He was finally able to do what he wanted to do all day, kiss you as much as he wanted.
12K notes · View notes
goldsbitch · 17 days
Text
You texted...
Y/N and Lando are going through a rough patch in their relationship. Not really on speaking terms. This bad streak ends when there is a massive spider in her bathroom.
angst, one shot
Tumblr media
The moment she spotted that creature sent from hell, everything else went out of the window. The dinner in the oven, the fact she was planning on doing a late night session in the gym, the fact her hair was still wet from the shower. The fact she and her boyfriend Lando were on "not speaking" terms.
Y/N was absolutely terrified of spiders her whole life and was never able to over come the fear by getting rid of them on her own. Lando was the one who always ever so kindly rescued her, he overtook this role her neighbor, who overtook it from her mom, who Y/N had trained to react immediately when she heard a very specific scream.
Now she was standing in her apartment, alone with nowhere to go, since her job was to stay frozen at one spot and stare at the creature, in case it moved, and not really sure who to call for help. Her best friend was the first option. Normally, it would have been her boyfriend, but something was stopping her from doing that.
"Come on, come on, come on," she whispered as she dialed her best friend living close by. "Pick up, dammit."
Finally, the tone she was praying for. "Hey, girl, what's up?"
No time for chit chat. "You have to come over now, immediately."
Her friend noticed the immediate distress and tuned herself in. "What's wrong?" she replied, sounding as she was ready to dial the police.
"There's a spider situation going on in my apartment."
"Uhm, I see," she said, more relaxed now, but still taking it seriously.
"It's huge, with like hairy legs and shit. You have to come over, now. We have a deal, remember?"
Her friend was equally terrified of mosquitoes, so they agreed that Y/N would deal with those while spider duty fell on the other lady. This has happened many many times before. Usually ended up with a nice girls evening. Ever since Lando appeared in Y/N life however, the emergency calls stopped.
"I thought Lando was around this week?" her friend asked curiously. "Not that I'm trying to get out of this, but I'm sort of like an hour away from you, so..."
Y/N let out a frustrated sigh. "Fucking hell...Yeah, we're not exactly speaking at the moment," she admitted.
"Wow, that's a first!?" her friend said, clearly surprised. "Why?"
"Look, I'd love to chat, but are you coming or not? There's no one else and I'm not calling Lando!"
"Yes, yes, I'm getting in the car, just let me say good bye to my friends here, we're having a picnic," she replied and muted voices of disapproval came from the background.
Y/N felt guilty about doing this, but she'd dropped everything she was oing for her friend many times, answered phone calls in the middle of the night even though she was an early bird. They just had this kind of friendship.
"Drive fast, please," she said, still stubborn and not about to call Lando.
//
Y/N sat there staring at the spider for good ten minuted before her friend called again.
"Ok, I'm in the car, you can talk about Lando now, keep me busy. I'm going to pass over the fact you and your boyfriend are fighting and I have no idea," she said unapologetically.
"Figured you'd be mad about that. Yeah, he's been acting like a bit of a dick..."
"But you're not broken up, right?" her friend asked, slightly worried about her favorite couple.
"No, I don't think so. I hope so," she realized, the spider in the corner becoming lesser of her problems.
"And what seems to be the problem? Did he cheat?"
"No, not that I'm aware," she replied without thinking.
"Did you cheat?" her friend asked, ready to support her in anything.
"Jesus, no. It's um...I dunno, we've just grown a bit distant. Lately it feels like I'm like at number 50 of his priorities list. It's always only racing, Quadrant, promo event this and that."
"That's shitty, yeah. Would you like to be included? I know you hate things like promo events and such."
"I do! But honestly, I miss him so much and frankly I'd like to be more included in his life somehow. Especially now that I have more time in my life."
"Does he know that?"
"No?"
Her friend let out a deep sigh. "Hm. You have to untangle that. It would be stupid to break up over that."
"Yeah, I'd hate that," she said, panic setting in.
"Text him to come. To save you from the spider. It's a nice excuse and good test. To see if he cares."
"I'm scared. What if he does not respond?"
Few moments of dramatic silence. "Well, at least you'd know."
"Yeah. Ok. Sending it." Y/N quickly typed something up, trying not to overthink it.
"What did you text?"
"Can you come over asap? I need help with a spider. It's urgent."
"Nice. Now you'll see what he does."
They stayed on the phone together for good half an hour. Catching up and distracting Y/N from the fact there was no text from Lando coming her way.
//
A doorbell rang.
"You're here already?" Y/N asked her friend, surprised by her ability to drive this fast.
"Nope, still very much far away. Did I hear a bell? Do you think it's him?"
"I dunno. I'll mute you and if it's him I'll hang up, ok?"
"Gotcha."
She opened the door with a heavy heart. What if it was not him?
But it was. Flustered Lando stood there without saying hello. The two shared a pain-filled look, neither of them enjoying this no contact streak they had.
"You came..." she said finally, ending the phone call.
"You texted..." he said dryly and in full macho mode entered her apartment without being let it. "Can you point me where?"
"That corner," she simply pointed, flushed with emotions. Happy that he came to rescue her, sad about his loveless tone and scared of what was to come after. She watched him from afar, as he skillfully took the spider and threw it out of the balcony.
"Don't say anything about him knowing his way back, please," he said, hinting on the countless debates they'd had before about Lando not wanting to kill every spider they'd encounter.
The air suddenly went very heavy. Lando casually headed to the kitchen to get himself a glass of water while trying so hard to make eye contact with her. The last time they spoke was few days prior - and it was not a nice conversation. Lots of built up emotions got out, frustrated speeches made and confusing sentences jumping one after another. Ending with Lando slamming the door on his way out.
She had no clue where to start. "So, how have you been?" she asked, not sure she was ready for his answer. He finally looked at her, and then with an annoyed eye-roll went back into staring out of the window.
Y/N threw her hands up in the air as the familiar feeling from few days ago kicked back in. "Ok fine, sorry I asked. Thank you so much for your help, truly appreciated, but if you hate being around me, just say so that we can-"
"We can what?" he cut her off, not having any of that.
"I don't know, you tell me!...I'm getting lost at trying to read you," she admitted, not even trying to hide anything from him at this point.
"I'm sorry," he said slowly. "I don't think I listened to you," he sighed before continuing, "Or more like did not hear what you were saying."
The validation felt rewarding. But she feared what would come next.
"What I heard at that moment was you not respecting my lack of time and the fact that things I'm involved in are important to me."
She took a breath and planned on interrupting him, which he noticed and tried to stop.
"Let me finish, please. But thinking about it, I figured that's not the case, and you were simply pointing out that I've been putting off spending time with you. Which you're absolutely correct. I figured since we've been going to strong lately, this would be fine. But truth is I hate this distance it created. I feel lost, uneasy and unable to focus," he blabbered something, which felt like he might have even rehearsed on the way to her. "What I'm trying to say is - do you still care enough for us to fix it?"
It felt vulnerable, raw and maybe even uncomfortable to have these kinds of talks. But this is ultimately what cements a relationship.
Feeling like he managed to destroy some of the wall they'd put up, she took few steps towards him.
"Lando, of course I do. It's not a rare event that I imagine our future life together, as a couple and one day potentially as a family. Never had this feeling before in my life. Please, let's figure out a way how to prevent the distance from happening. Things have changed now, the relationship has too. We've been together for almost two years. And my love for you has only grown."
He finally smiled, relieved that they seemed to be on the same page.
"I came right from the tennis court, left everyone behind. Would you like to go there with me? Hang out with the Quadrant squad for a bit and then have a nice dinner somewhere? I just want to spend this evening with you."
"And the night hopefully," she teased, trying to ease the mood.
"Always the night, it was absolutely horrible, knowing you're so close to me, yet having to sleep without you."
She closed the distance between them, embracing him into a hug. They bodies were more than familiar with each and it felt right to be that close. Definitely better than each of them standing in a different corner of the room.
"We still have to talk about this. I don't want our love to slip through by our fingers," she said, letting her anxiety out.
"We will. Tonight, we'll come up with a plan. Can you join me on few races later this month?" he asked, hoping for a positive answer.
"Of course, my love. I have to buy new clothes though, the cameras are savage."
He chuckled, relaxed now that he did not have to worry about having lost her. "Yes, they are."
She later call her friend to thank her for dropping everything and driving to save her, even though it was not needed in the end. Her friend was more than happy that she and Lando seemingly found the way back to each other.
She also admitted that she turned back the moment Y/N sent her text to Lando, knowing that this guy would come running anytime his girlfriend asked for help.
1K notes · View notes
sistertotheknowitall · 2 months
Text
Some Guy Bingo
Masterpost.
Nearly three months into (what Jason called) The Haunting, the siblings kinda started a game. (“Either we're haunting him or he's haunting us, I haven't decided yet." "Considering he's the one appearing randomly, I'd say he's haunting us.")
Technically Tim had started it with, “five bucks says Danny went to class today.” (Gotham university was having an out break of fear toxin curtesy of Dr. Crane.) However, it was Jason who kicked it off with, “ten if he says something about actual scarecrows.”
Dick had snorted and said, “fifteen if it’s a personal experience about a farm.”
“I call bingo if he makes a vague statement on agriculture.” So it was actually Steph who started it.
“Bingo? We were placing bets.”
“Unlike you Hood, some people don’t get adopted by money.”
“As if Bruce doesn’t give you an allowance.”
(“As if he didn’t offer to adopt you,” Tim tacked on.)
It became a running joke where they started calling out "bingo if -" whenever they had to go out on a call. The joke had later formed into a running game when Danny had told Cass, “fighting gods is a pass-time, it is humanity that the real fight is against.” (He had trip over a curb and laid on the ground for several minutes before she asked if he was okay.) She said it wasn’t the most concerning thing he said to her and Steph chimed in claiming, “on a scale of one to ten that statement rates at a three.”
Jason had asked why Cass and Steph always got the weird ambiguous statements and he got cryptic shit about his “soul”.
(Damian had pointed out that at least he wasn’t being constantly referred to as a baby.)
I Call Bingo, which they still played whenever a situation required more than one of them, became “on a scale”
Dick was sure that “having given up on optimism, I find your enthusiasm to be overly bright” should be ranked higher then “I don’t like two-stepping but I’m from the mid-west, so do you know how to line dance?” (Danny and Duke had gotten into an awkward side step where they kept blocking each other.) Damian said the wording seemed passive-aggressive but the tone was too positive to be rude so he gave it a three. Jason said it sounded like a bad pick up line and gave it a two.
They often debated and defended the score they gave with Barbara chiming in over coms. She had never met Danny as Oracle but he was a regular at the public library. He was always polite and respectful and had quickly become one of her favorite patrons. Like Steph and Cass she also got odd statements but hers felt more like half-hearted jokes.
Bruce didn't always join in on their game but it wasn't surprising to see the occasional score placed in their reports. (They had a file dedicated to Danny's remarks. Originally it was to keep track of what they knew about him but at this point it was just to let the others know what he said this time.) Alfred was roped into it even if he didn't really participate unless asked. ("Hey Alfie, what would you give 'i'm glad i don't have to fight my food to eat it but if Batburger keeps giving me the wrong thing I'm summoning Lunch Lady.' Cause Tim says two but I think it's a five.") (He gave it a four.)
Post 4
2K notes · View notes
annabelle--cane · 4 months
Text
this is a difficult thing to have conversations about because it provokes really strong reactions in people for completely valid and understandable reasons, so please feel free to hit da bricks on this post whenever you want, but I do want to try and analyse the jonmartin slaps. we get three across 160, 169, and 172, and a line addressing it in 173, and then it never happens or comes up again. none of them come out of nowhere, and they mostly fly under the radar until 173 because they all broadly fit the "slapping someone out of a trance in an emergency" trope, but each of them slowly decreases in urgency.
the first time, the apocalypse starts up and martin comes back to find a passed out jon, can't wake him by making noise, and strikes him in a panic. this makes sense, this is a man who has entered a supernatural coma before and martin had no idea what was going on, so of course he'd jump to something desperate.
the second time, they're in a burning building, jude arrives while jon is still mid-statement, and when making noise doesn't work martin slaps him out of it. this makes sense, they were there for jude and if jon didn't come back to himself then she likely would have hurt them, though martin knew that her powers against them were limited.
the third time, jon is getting pulled into into a repeating statement instead of coming out on his own like usual, so martin speaks once or twice to try and get his attention, and then slaps him out of it. this... again, it makes sense, jon was getting trapped, but there was no immediate peril like before, martin just got freaked out and wanted to leave quickly. he seems to get that it was harsh because he apologizes for it, but they don't linger at all, martin just starts in on them having to leave immediately.
the last time it's mentioned is when they're on night street, during what is one of their most intense arguments. jon tries to talk about the suffering of the children there for longer than he needs to in order to make a point, martin cuts him off, and he pointedly says, "thank you for not hitting me this time." it never happens or is brought up again.
to our knowledge, jon doesn't say anything about the slapping until 173. he's not a guy who's known for speaking up when things upset him, he was amiably working with daisy within about a week of her trying to kill him, so it makes sense that he would just sit with this comparatively more minor thing. however, I do think it's relevant to note that, at this point in their relationship, martin will sometimes voice his feelings and boundaries (not listening to statements, not consenting to mind reading, worrying when jon expresses discomfort with his body), while jon doesn't. from the couple of times he does talk about his feelings this season, I think that tendency comes a few places: he has a hard time being aware of his emotions at all, he doesn't know how to evaluate his emotions' importance in comparison to others', he assumes his emotions are obvious and thus people already act with full knowledge of them, and the topic is just hard to make himself talk about. from what he says in 173, I think the slaps bothered him the entire time, but he made himself be fine with it until he was upset with martin for unrelated reasons and finally let it out.
as for martin's side, I do not think the slaps came from any kind of suppressed desire to hurt or wield power over jon. we've seen him when he's angry at jon, this isn't how he acts, he gets shouty and indignant but never violent. I'd even go as far as to say he doesn't do it in 173 because he's genuinely upset at jon and the situation they're in, and it would never occur to him to deliberately inflict pain on someone he cares about to assert control over them. the connecting line between all of them is fear from something that he wants jon to help him handle. the apocalypse starts, he is stuck inside one of his worst nightmares, and he's paranoid that the web took control of him. he's someone who is "always following, never leading" (170), and he gets tunnel vision when something scares him and his "leader" isn't there.
jon did need to be pulled out of all three of those situations, and words proved insufficient, and maybe a quick jolt of pain was the only thing that could have worked, but martin doesn't seem to consider what that would feel like from jon's pov. in my experience of relationships, if there's ever an unavoidable emergency where you do actually need to cross a line that you never would otherwise, you talk about it afterwards. you do a debrief where you say "I'm really sorry about that, I didn't see another way, I'll try and be better prepared next time." they do this for problems they have later on (177, 198), but martin doesn't do that here. jon's point-of-view just doesn't seem to occur to him. when jon expresses discomfort, he drops the tactic without a word; later, when he needs to anchor jon in the panopticon, he talks him through it before it can get too far. so, it's not about a lack of care for jon's feelings.
I think it comes down to a few things: a) his occasional tendency to treat people as a means to an ends and not think about their perspective. he's so glued to putting others first most of the time that when he stops, he can't find a middle ground and forgets that other people can have feelings about his actions. b) his problems with conceiving of himself as a person of any importance who is capable of doing anything, especially of doing harm. as a concept, "hurting jon" is the thing he would least like to do in the whole world, it is his nightmare scenario and literally the culminating moment of his tragedy. he finds it almost unthinkable, so the idea that he does it casually when he's scared doesn't cross his mind. one of his central worries at this point is that jon is now so powerful that he no longer needs martin, how could he hurt someone like that? he's not anywhere near a comparable level of importance, it's not like he has his own domain that he's not aware of because jon told him about it and he immediately rejected the information. he's powerless and could never bring himself to hurt the man he loves.
I just. think it's an interesting microcosm of some of the lows of their relationship. once the problem is discovered martin instantly takes the note and doesn't put it on jon to explain himself further or assuage his guilt, they are willing and able to adapt, but it still comes from some of their bedrock flaws. martin doesn't understand that he can hurt people, and jon has such an inflated understanding of his capacity to hurt people that it sabotages his self-worth and his ability to respond to pain and displeasure.
1K notes · View notes
finniestoncrane · 24 hours
Note
Virginal vault dweller reader you say?? I'd eat that up (and so would Cooper, heh) but seriously I would read the hell out of that if you're up for it <3
Different Up Here
Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader, word count: 6.3k anon thank you lmao i had already started drafting this, so vault dweller reader isn't quite a virgin but they are definitely inexperienced and have never known pleasure like the kind that cooper can offer 🤎 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: power imbalance, dubious consent because once you've said yes to cooper you can't change your mind, overstimulation, crying, oral sex, fingering, rimming, instructional, full penetration babiessss i realised i never tag that shit but yeah it's in here lmao, cumming inside, no protection, sweet coop afterwards but only briefly
Tumblr media Tumblr media
If anyone else had asked you in that moment how you were, you couldn't have answered accurately without any hint of sarcasm and irritation. You were being worn down, like buildings by the sands of the desert. Each little molecule of your optimism being torn away from you, painful like plucking a hair. But when Cooper asked you, you tried your best to push down your knee jerk response.
"Let's see, shall we? Since leaving the vault a month ago, bravely in search of resources and supplies for my friends, I have killed, maimed, and eaten things I hope to never think of again. I'm in a constant cycle of very, very stressed and then very, very bored where there is no happy medium between fearing for my life and wishing for death. And oh, by the way, I'm sweating buckets the whole time because it's deathly fucking warm. Thank you for asking, Cooper!"
Instead, you shrugged and offered him at least a partial truth.
"It sounds silly... but I'm kind of bored."
A dry chuckle passed over Cooper's lips.
"Heh, that's a new one for out here."
Sensing an opportunity to at least get some conversation out of him, you sat up on the rusty bed frame, your body sinking into the almost entirely flattened mattress as you crossed your legs and did your best to get Cooper to talk more than a sentence at a time.
"Really? I would have thought you'd be bored a lot, especially when there's no raiders, or mirelurks, or scavengers, or feral ghouls, or super mutants, or roving gangs of-"
"See, this is why I'm never bored. Always somethin' or someone to be killin'."
"But what about like... now? When there's nothing else to do. There's no magazines, no books, no TV."
You watched as Cooper turned from you with a slight smile. You knew the one, the familiar grin that meant you'd divulged some information about your life in the vaults, something he always found so amusing. It was your naivety, your optimism. He was endlessly fascinated by it, as though listening to you talk about it reminded him of something he had before.
That fascinated you. It made you want to stay around him, the way he listened silently as you talked about the old films that were on the holotapes, the food that was still fresh and available, the music you could hear whenever you wanted to, not reliant on some two-bit radio host. He paid attention to you. And any time his deep, brown eyes focused on your lips it made your heart flutter in an admittedly unexpected manner.
Remembering that feeling, you tried again, hoping that your next approach might be something that interested him a little more than just conversation.
"You know how we used to pass time in the vaults?"
Over the sound of the evening breezes that whipped up the sand you could still hear Cooper sigh before he spoke.
"Now if you tell me that you wanna go out there again tonight to find an old blast radius board... well I am just going to have to shoot you."
You laughed at what you hoped was a joke and waved him off, despite the fact that he was still turned away from you, unable to see your gesture as he tried ignoring you in what you assumed was the hope that you might shut up and leave him alone.
"No, no no no no no. Just..."
The lump in your throat felt like it was about to choke you, so you swallowed the clump of nerves quietly, your voice trembling as you finished your sentence.
"... fooling around... y'know?"
Cooper turned to face you. You had piqued his interest, and you couldn't help but show the giddy glee on your face, the smallest smile crossing your lips as your eyes widened. But his words wiped away all hope that you had garnered in that short span of time.
"Oh... oh darlin'."
He laughed a little, each little sound of the short, sharp giggle like a slap to the face.
"I don't think you're ready for that at all."
You raised an eyebrow, defiant, irritated, and keen to know how he thought he had you pegged so quickly. You'd never talked about anything like that with him before. Was he assuming that you were a virgin based on how you behaved around him alone? Maybe he figured that the lack of flirting on your part was down to a complete lack of experience, when in reality, it was because every flirtatious quip he threw your way made you so nervous and flustered you felt like you might throw up.
"How come I'm not ready? I mean, I've... I've done stuff... I've done it!"
"The fat you're not saying it how it is makes me think that you are absolut-"
"I've had sex, Cooper. I've fucked before. I've been fucked."
Blinking off the irritation at being interrupted by you, Cooper pushed up the brim of his hat and stared directly at you, as though he was examining your, to see if you would stand up for yourself any further.
"By who? One of your little buddies underground? Fucking like little bunnies? I don't think that qualifies you, sweetheart."
"Why? Sex is sex..."
You said it with such confidence. As if you really knew. As if you hadn't spent your teenage years practising on your hand, holding a pillow close, lining up for that one girl in the vault who would sell practice kisses for extra bubble-gum. You'd had sex before, of course. You weren't a liar. Just because you'd only ever done it once didn't render it nonfactual. Just because it had only lasted for all of four minutes. Just because you weren't sure you even orgasmed, and your friend had told you that you'd know if you'd orgasmed. Just because it was all over so quickly, and he'd run off before anyone could catch you both, avoiding you at every opportunity after that.
"... Isn't it?"
"Oh no it ain't. Besides, like I keep telling you, it's different up here. Everything's different up here. And that includes fuckin'."
The way he said the word, consonants enunciated with such grit and vigour, filled your stomach with knots that began to tighten as you considered in what way things were so different.
"What exactly do you mean by that?"
Cooper sighed, exasperated, resigning himself to the fact that you were going to keep talking to him regardless of his short replies and attempts to end the conversation.
"You are a dog with a bone, huh? Ain't gonna let it go."
His yellowed teeth were exposed as his lips pulled back in a baring, mischievous smile. Those knots doubled, the ends being pulled by tension in your nervous system as Cooper's smirk put you into a dazed stupor.
"No, sir."
"Now, I don't remember signing on to be your personal tutor in all things apocalypse. Do I really need to show you how everything works up here?"
As your cheeks began to blush, you nodded enthusiastically.
"Yes, sir."
You were hopeful for just a bit of a distraction. Something to help take the stress away. To relieve the tension that had been building up between you and Cooper as of late. You'd been studying him, watching the way he looked at you, fascinated by your perceived, and frankly obvious, innocence. The way his fingers moved, contributing to the skilful way he handled his gun and his ropes. The confidence, the charisma, the charms.
You wanted him, but you weren't quite sure how to broach the situation without it seeming desperate. But you were past that now. You were desperate For anything, just something. Something to cure the monotony of walking and hiding and fighting and surviving. You didn't want to just survive. You wanted to at least find a semblance of fun and pleasure in this nightmare you had found yourself in. And in the vaults, when board games and books and debates got boring, there was always fucking. That was what you desired most right now. The fact that Cooper happened to be the closest target for your desires was just a sweet miracle, or a cruel tease depending on how willing he was.
And luckily, he seemed agreeable.
"Well then, how about you come over here and let ol' Coop show you a little thing or two about how dirty you can really get up here in the mean, dusty Wasteland, hm?"
Your excitement was palpable, even though you were trying to keep your composure. There was no escaping the echo of the giddy squeal you let out as you jumped up from the bed and made your way over to Cooper. He waited in the far corner of the room, setting himself down on an old armchair as you stepped towards him, slapping his thighs as an indication of where he wanted you. And you did as you were told, following his instructions, knowing they hadn't led you astray so far in your time together.
It felt awkward at first, being so close to him. You shifted your weight nervously, trying to get comfortable while making sure Cooper was still at ease, which of course, he was. He always was. Nothing stirred him, he was forever at peace. Competent in any situation. Quick to adapt. And as you fidgeted and fussed, you felt his strong hands pushing you forward on his lap, until your chests were practically pressed together, his hands skirting over your lower back as he held you still. In command. In control. The sudden sensation of his hands on your body made your breath hitch, a soft, surprised squeal on the inhale that had Cooper raising his brow at you.
"Now... you agree that you asked for this, alright? Because I am not going to put my effort into entertaining your little whims if you're gonna get fussy and decide it's too much for you. I did warn you."
"Yes, you did, and I really don't think you needed to. I doubt there's too much different about it, and I've picked up what I needed to know pretty quickly from your other lessons, haven't I?"
Your retaliation to his insistence that you needed him to teach you everything, and that some things just might prove themselves a little too hard even for your levels of enthusiasm, had irritated him when he'd first met you. But now your optimism and sheer refusal to believe anything was too much for you were a source of entertainment for him. A challenge.
"That's fine then, darlin'. But I'll remember that."
His eyes bore into your soul, keeping your focus on him as he dared you to look away. They sparkled as he ran his tongue over his lips, the pretence of preparing for his next words covering the obvious flirtation in the way he dragged the flat muscle along his chapped skin.
"So, gimme a benchmark here, lil lady. How much foreplay was involved in your previous encounters? I'd hate to leave you high and dry."
"Foreplay...? What... uh, what is that?"
Cooper sighed, rolling his eyes before closing his eyelids over gently.
"Well, it's something like this."
He pushed a loose strand of hair back behind your ear, rough fingers following the curve and grazing over your neck as he let them drift down the front of your chest, tickling the exposed skin as far as your jumpsuit would allow before he took a hold of the zip at the front. A quick flit of his eyes up to you seemed to ask for permission, and your small, almost imperceptible nod, told him to keep going.
Slowly, painfully so, he pulled the zip down, watching as the centre of your torso was slowly revealed to him. Smooth skin, in comparison to his anyway, clear of any unnatural blemishes or war wounds. One calloused digit followed down your sternum to your stomach and back up, hooking under the left side of the fabric and pulling it over, then the other, exposing the top half of your body to him.
Cooper traced his fingertips over the top of your breasts, watching as your chest moved in and out, slowly, but exaggeratedly. The knots in your stomach felt like they might burst with the tension as his sharp, ragged nails crossed over your hardening nipples, a gentle tingle coursing through your veins.
"Well?"
"No... n-nothing like that... just grabbing..."
"Oh yeah? You like that? How about this?"
He closed two fingers around your nipple, one hand still on your back to keep you balanced as your body reacted to his touch. Between the two digits, you felt your nipples heating up, the slight, burning pain from the way he squeezed them sending a signal down your spine that seemed to affect every part of you. Tighter, tighter, and then as your eyes closed a little more, eyelids pressed tight, he would ease up to offer some relief.
"You like that? Like it rough?"
"I think... I think I like both."
"So, something like this?"
He teased your nipples once more, pressing harder with his fingertips, pulling them out and jiggling your breasts as he tugged at them, this lewder act interspersed with a gentle caress as he held your breast against the palm of his hand, carefully cupping it as he flicked his thumb over the sensitive and completely erect nipple.
You bit your lip, trying to keep quiet, Coop's hand moved swiftly from your body to your cheeks, popping the lip back out as he pressed his thumb and forefinger into your face. Understanding the message, and seemingly showing this in your wide-eyed gaze, he let his rough, leathery hand make its way back down to your breast, cupping it once more as he spoke.
"Different, see? Pleasure is hard to come by out here. You gotta do it right when you've got the chance."
Cooper leaned into your neck, whispering the words low and slowly, his dry, chapped lips skimming over your skin as he continued.
"I bet down there they didn't know the first thing about real pleasure. Takes time, something like that. You gotta learn the body, gotta make it feel good."
His teeth grazed over your shoulder and back up along your neck before he pulled back, watching your eyes refocus from the haze of arousal.
"Did they make you feel good?"
"No."
You were confident in that statement. It hadn't felt good. It felt rushed. Clumsy. Shameful. And as you pondered it, your mouth remained open in a slight pout which trembled as Cooper asked his next question.
"And what about your pretty lips... did they kiss them?"
"A little..."
Cooper leaned in, his rough lips pressing onto yours with firm contact, his tongue staying in place as though he imagined that might be a bit too much for you right now. But that same level of restraint didn't keep him from letting his teeth catch onto your bottom lip, pulling it out, only letting go when you winced in surprise as the suddenness of the action.
"Didn't bite them either. Of course not, what am I thinking? That would be a little too adventurous for your kind."
His face took on a darker tone as he smiled knowingly towards you.
“And what about these pretty lips?”
Before you could piece together the question, his hand was diving into your jumpsuit, pushing down the front and past the waist, stroking against the front of your underwear which, by now, was soaking wet with your arousal.
“They touch these lips, huh?”
You gasped as he pushed your underwear to the side, stroking his fingers along your slick, plump pussy lips, withdrawing them soon after to taste you on his tongue, the way you had watched him taste the blood of enemies, the blood of victims.
“Stand up, darlin’… Why don’t you take that suit off, hm? Get yourself comfy.”
As you raised yourself up from his hips, your legs wobbled under you, not quite steady enough to support you so soon after being reduced to jelly by Cooper’s touch, his caramelised words that filled your ears, the sharp twang of his accent, the delicate cadence, the power rumbling underneath like an almost silent bassline.
“Do it slowly though.”
Cooper watched carefully as you stood nervously before him, shuffling out of your suit, stripping for him, your hips moving from side to side slow and steady, unintentionally sultry in the way you moved. Without taking his eyes from you he reached for his canteen, taking a long sip from it as you let your suit fall down over your legs, stepping out of it and pushing it to the side with your feet.
“That’s it, darlin’. Can’t do this half-hearted. I need to have access to all of you there. Now come sit back down.”
You held your arms in front of you, feeling far too exposed for the shelter you’d found for the evening. No windows, no locks on the doors. But it was difficult to focus on that worry for too long as you watched Cooper’s tongue flit back out over his lips, clear strands of drool sparkling in the light as he took you in, hungrily, dreamily.
“Turn around though. You face that way.”
The metal buttons on the front of his duster coat were cold against the skin of your back, but you leaned into them anyway. Cooper’s hand curved around your neck and up under your chin, holding your face forward.
“You keep an eye out, holler if you see anything coming. I’ll do everything else.”
A faint clicking sound, the safety on his gun being flicked to off, before those same fingers draped over your mound and down on to your lips, spreading them apart, the cool air of the decrepit room cooling the heat of your hot, aching cunt. With two fingers holding your lips apart, he let the middle digit tap against your clit, each tiny sensation turning your blood cold before heating it exponentially, a cold sweat beginning to form on your brow as you felt a tingle in your abdomen.
The finger that tapped the sensitive bud began stroking it from side to side, laying flat against it length wise as Cooper strummed your body, still holding your chin in his hands, smiling to himself every time your back arched away from him in intense pleasure. Every nerve-ending was at his mercy. He was right, it was different up here. But you wondered how much of that was the Wasteland and it’s effect on sexuality and pleasure, and how much of it was just him. Cooper Howard, Wasteland bounty hunter, a past life he refused to talk about, the most charismatic monster you had ever met. His fingers, daintily crossing over your clit, as you felt his breath, silent except for an occasional hum of satisfaction in the form of a long moan. Maybe it was just Cooper who was different.
It was hard to focus on this new line of though as his hard fingertips clamped down on your clit, pinching it as he rolled it between his fingers. Even harder when he let his hand drop from your neck and instead began teasing at your nipples once more. Soft, cruel flicks over the hardened bumps, his fingers at work on your body, his lips kissing at the back of your neck. Moans growing louder, more frequent, as he let himself enjoy the act of making you squirm. You could tell he was having fun, as you rolled your hips back a little, feeling the thick bulge of his stiffening cock against your rear. You wondered how it might feel, how it might look, and what he could do differently with it.
“Cooper… Coop… I think I’m going to cum…”
His movements quickened, cock twitching against your body as he pinched tighter and pressed his fingers harder against your cunt.
“Don’t you dare, little lady.”
“Ok I’ll… I’ll try but… you have to… stop… please stop… Coop…”
He ignored your please, the whining, desperate begging as you tried to stop your body from the natural, encouraged reaction.
“Have some self-control, sweetheart.”
“Cooper, I really can’t… please… please stop touching me…”
“I absolutely will not.”
Your fingers dug into his thighs, but you noticed that you refused to move away from him. You wanted to do as he asked, wanted to hold yourself back from the brink of orgasm to prolong his touch, but you couldn’t risk him actually stopping, fearing that your body might crumble if his fingers left your quivering, pathetic body for only a second.
Each stroke against your increasingly wet and sensitive pussy had you trembling and shaking, and Cooper had to remove his hand from your breast to keep you steady, placing it under your chin and holding you steady by the neck.
“I am warning you, missy.”
“Cooper… I can’t stop…”
You shuddered and whined as your body gave in to the temptation, feeling a rush of heat and relief as you came on his lap, your arousal coating his pants, adding to the collection of stains and wear on them. But he didn’t stop then.
“No wait… seriously, Cooper… I can’t… I can’t take much more, honestly…”
“Listen, I told you. I said you better not cum. I wasn’t done with you yet.”
Your eyes began to sting with tears of exasperation as your body kept on pushing to its limits, conjuring up another wave of climax, tormenting you with never-ending bouts of arousal that kept you rutting against him, despite how painful it was to keep writhing into his body. You could feel your stomach knotting again, not much time between each orgasm to relax, and you dug your hands into his thighs, pushing your body up off of him as you tensed completely.
“Ok, this time, you do it on my command. You do it when I say you can, alright?”
“Cooper…”
“Don’t give me that pleading shit, you asked me to show you how things are done. Well this is how Cooper fuckin’ Howard does things. So are you ready? You gonna come for me?”
“C-coop… I’ll… I’ll try…”
“Good girl, now you keep that mouth making those whines and moans. I don’t need you to call out my name or anything, I know I’m all you’re thinking about.”
The praise, the self-confidence, the way his fingers seemed to be pulling your orgasm out, motioning for it to come closer to him.
“Come on, darlin’, come on…”
Your vision blurred as the climax came over you, body rolling and convulsing as you came once more at Cooper’s insistence, your cheeks stained with tears, salted water rolling through the layers of grime and clearing paths to your chin.
As you settled back down onto his lap with a shudder, you felt Cooper’s fingers stroking through your hair. He was surprisingly gentle, oddly calm, but you supposed that you deserved his kindness as you had done as he had asked, making up for your previous indiscretion. He was almost cooing, shushing you as you found your breath, establishing your sense of self once more after the overstimulating orgasm that shook your core.
“You seen enough of the big bad world for one day then?”
You probably had, but you still found yourself shaking your head, ignoring the way your body reacted with a violent twitch at the notion of Cooper’s hands delivering intense pleasure.
“A glutton for punishment, hm? Or just keen to learn?”
As you pondered your answer, Cooper seemed to have come to the conclusion for you, as he tapped your hips and began to shift underneath you.
“Alright then, get onto your knees.”
Positioning yourself at his feet, you couldn’t help but look up at him, catching his eyes as he looked down at you with that unique brand of disdain and intrigue he had somehow mastered. You knew what was coming, what was about to happen, and your mouth began watering at the thought. What he might taste like. What he might look like.
You didn’t have to imagine for long though, as you could see his fingers working the belt of his pants, loosening it, unzipping his fly, and gripping his semi-erect cock at the base as he took it out, brandishing it. He kept close attention on your own eyes, a soft sigh of relief imperceptibly escaping his chest as he noticed your pupils widen, your mouth opening in preparation for him.
It was exactly as you had expected. The texture of the shaft was similar to that of his cheeks and his forearms, a similar colouring, though darker at the base and on the shaft which was tinted red. Thick, purple tinged veins covered it, winding around the length, cutting across the ridges of the scars.
“You can come closer, darlin’. I don’t know what they told you about mutations and radiation effects down there in your little utopia, but I can assure you… it doesn’t bite.”
The fear was palpable, clearly, but it was nothing to do with Cooper’s body and everything to do with your lack of experience, which, despite you arguing otherwise, was becoming plainly obvious even to you. You had only ever touched a cock with your hands outside of being quickly fucked. Several times you’d been cajoled into quickly stroking an erection under the blankets before your partner ran off to the bathroom, clean and tidy, flushing away the sins. And you were very well aware that there was always the option to suck on one, but it had never presented itself. It had never seemed that appealing to you. Until you were faced with Cooper’s.
He hadn’t even asked you to do either yet, but you found yourself curious, salivating over the thought of him, mind racing as you imagined how he might feel against your tongue.
“Can I taste it… you?”
Cooper smiled warmly, one of the few times you had seen him look at you with genuine pride.
“Now that is using your initiative. Of course you can.”
You kept your hands to yourself as you leaned in towards his body, content to let Cooper wield his length at you, his hand firm around the base as you inched closer, tongue pressed out over your lips. A strand of drool collected and spilled forward, hitting the floor in a soft patter just before the tip of your tongue came into contact with the tip of his cock.
A lot of the movements were instinctual, following your desires more than what you thought might be protocol as you dragged your tongue up the shaft and swirled over the blushing head of his cock. It tasted bitter, but in a pleasant way.  Savoury, not sweet. Salted, a tang that stayed there for a few seconds after your tongue had moved on to another spot. A flavour you found yourself craving now.
Cooper gripped tighter and pushed forward, taking you by surprise as he slid himself into your mouth, his free hand moving to the back of your head, fingers curling into your hair. As the taste of him hit the back of your tongue, cock almost touching your throat, you coughed and spluttered a little.
“Fuck me, darlin’… do you need me to show you how to do this too?”
He looked down at you, filled with pity as he saw your face. Red cheeks, puffed out, lips stretched over the girth of his cock, tears welling up in your eyes as you struggled to breathe.
“Breath through your nose… breathe in…”
You followed his instructions, instantly calmed when you found your lungs filling with air once more. Almost immediately back to enjoying yourself, the feeling of Cooper inside of you, the control he had as he held your head against him.
“Now… you don’t want to choke too much, so keep your tongue flat… yeah, just like that…”
It was so much easier like that, and you could feel your cheeks getting warmer and redder as you realised that not only had you embarrassed yourself with your spluttering and lack of knowledge, but that Cooper had clearly done this a lot.
“And your teeth… well, usually they’ll tell you to keep ‘em outta the way, but you know me… gotta be different…”
Taking the hint, you let your jaw close slightly, the pain of the stretch lessened, your teeth scraping along the top of his shaft as your tongue worked the underneath, sucking and rolling as much as you could while keeping it flat.
He didn’t say much else, and you couldn’t tell if he was particularly enjoying himself. It worried you, the fact that he had specific preferences, the way it was so clear how much more experienced he was than you. How many others had there been? And were they all better than you? As your mind wandered to your anxieties, you completely missed the fact that you had begun to drool all over yourself until Cooper relaxed his grip on your head and wiped at your chin with his thumb. Catching your eyes and sensing some of your worries, he was surprisingly quick to soothe you.
“You can swallow or spit or let it all spill out, I don’t mind makin’ a mess darlin’. But whatever you’re doing, you keep that up.”
You were so pathetically grateful for the encouragement, for the tiniest semblance of praise, that you felt yourself moaning involuntarily. The soothing motion of sucking on his cock, the taste of something new, the comforting knowledge that he was happy with your efforts. You could feel your clit throbbing, aroused by Cooper’s satisfaction, how pleased he was with the way you worked him over.
Which is why it surprised you so much when he pulled his cock from your mouth, your lips slipping off of it with a disgustingly lewd popping sound, drool spilling onto your chin in long strands which stretched from your lips to his cock and tore apart as he distanced himself from you.
And again, that sympathetic gaze, the way he could tell what you were thinking before you even said it.
“Oh, don’t you look at me with those big, sad eyes. You got nothin’ to worry about, sweetheart. That was good, ‘specially for a first try…”
He winked to you as he spoke, causing your heart to skip enough beats that you thought you might die there and then.
“… It’s just that I’m all slicked up and ready to go now… so you wanna bend over for me? Or do you wanna come sit on my lap?”
“Uh… lap, please… I was kinda bent over for the last… first time.”
“Well, you come and take a seat then, darlin’, let ol’ Coop show you something new.”
You nervously settled your entirely nude body back down onto his thighs. Cooper’s hands were gentle against your shoulders as he pulled you backwards with him, leaning at a slight angle in the chair, his cock rigid and firm as it sat against your waiting cunt, coated in your drool which almost seemed to shimmer with the dancing light of the fire.
Then, so carefully, so gently, far more than you’d ever seen him be before, Cooper took hold of his cock at the base and slid it inside of you, one hand on your stomach as he braced you, keeping your body steady as he inserted himself further and further between your clenching walls.
“Bigger than before?”
You nodded, biting your lip as you felt the distinct stretch, his rough, textured cock forcing its way inside your cunt, pressed up to the hilt, testing your limits.
“Better?”
“Mhm…”
“Speak up, darlin’.”
With your voice strained and breathy, you managed to form some words.
“Yes… it’s better.”
“That’s it, good girl. Now, I’m gonna buck my hips, ok? You just try and keep your balance.”
Below you, Cooper shifted a little, his hips rolling backwards, inches of his cock escaping your tight, aching cunt, before he rolled them forwards and upwards, back into you. A slow, steady pace that he focused on keeping until you felt warmer, more relaxed.
“You got this, it’s like riding a horse.”
“I’ve never… hm… ridden a horse…”
Cooper chuckled, a low and rasping sound that sent shivers over your skin and seemed close enough to you that it was coming from inside of your body.
“Never ridden a ghoul before either, but you’re handling it alright for a first timer.”
You were coping ok, you had to admit, but you could feel your stomach muscles tensing, the knots back in full force as they tensed and tightened, loosened and frayed with each pump of his cock within you.
“Ah… Cooper…”
“Too much, darlin’? Does it hurt?”
There was a sense of genuine care in his tone, as though he had taken it upon himself to show you that yes, things were different up there in the Wasteland, but that didn’t always mean they were worse. Some things were good, if not a little bit difficult to take at first.
“A little…”
Cooper tilted your chin up, forcing your head to lean back completely against his shoulder. In a delicate move, one far more romantic than you imagined from him, he ran his thumb over your lips, angling his neck to look at them, his own mouth open ever so slightly, a monotonous panting as he kept his hips moving, increasing the speed and the force at which he entered you.
His eyes flicked up suddenly, looking into yours, catching your gaze and holding unblinking eye contact as he spoke.
“I know… I know… Just a little longer, though…”
He closed his eyes, focusing on the feeling of his cock pushing against your body, enveloped in your hot, wet, velvety interior.
“I know it hurts… but I ain’t stopping, so don’t even ask… here…”
You watched as he brought a finger to your lips, offering it up to you.
“…you bite down on that if it gets too much, ok… but don’t hold back on those sweet sounds… I wanna hear you scream.”
With that vaguely threatening remark, he thrust up into you, banging against your body, spurring on your orgasm but unleashing a dull ache that spread through every sensitive part of you.
“Won’t… be long… keep it together… good girl…  good girl…”
It felt good, the pain, the sting, the ache, the shivers. The fact that he was using you, finding pleasure in you. All of it culminating in Cooper’s nearing orgasm which you could sense was closing in on him. His movements were becoming more frantic, sloppier, and he was mouthing all manner of sweet nothings as he let his façade slip away.
And those soft mumbles opened up into a wide roar as he clung to your body, the hand on your neck cutting off the air to your lungs only briefly, one hand on your lap pressing sharp indents into your skin as he forced himself into you. The last few moments of his fevered thrusting, fucking you wildly, drool pooling in the corner of his mouth as he rutted into you in a dazed stupor before his body gave in. His cock throbbed, each pulse sending another rope of cum against your insides, filling you with his seed as he shuddered finally, slinking backwards into the chair and taking in a deep breath as you removed yourself from him.
You’d only managed to take a few steps forward before Cooper addressed you, opening his eyes to watch you standing there awkwardly, his cum dripping down your thighs, a warmth that quickly turned cool in the air of the room.
“Did I say you could get up?”
Panic settled in your chest, aware that you had waited until you felt his muscles relax, his body retreating from you, before you slid off his cock, expecting him to push you away anyway, like your first time. You assumed he was finished, and you weren’t sure you were ready for the idea that he might not be done with you.
“Are we… oh, Cooper, I really can’t take anymore.”
Even as you stood, you could feel your legs shaking, weakened by the intense orgasms, the way they tightened against his every movement.
“That’s different up here too then, I suppose.”
Cooper stood up from the chair, pacing towards you with a purposeful stride as he pushed his cock back into his pants, zipping them up as he reached you. You inhaled sharply as he placed his hand at the back of your head, those knots in your stomach beginning to form again, worried that a further, albeit pleasurable punishment was on the cards. But you were surprised as he slid his free hand around your back, tugging at your waist as he pulled you in close to him. A quick smile before his lips were on yours, the brim of his hat pushed upwards as he leaned into the kiss. Warm, gentle, the kind of kiss you’d seen in movies. Practised and confident, meaningful, sincere.
When he pulled back, your body following him a little before you settled back onto your feet, he smiled warmly.
“Sweet with the sour, darlin’. You gotta keep ‘em wanting more.”
“M-more?”
More as in now? Or more as in the idea that Cooper had enjoyed himself and would be willing to offer that kind of pleasure to you again. And he answered with a wink.
“Definitely. There’s a still a lot you’ve got to learn.”
570 notes · View notes
buckyalpine · 6 months
Text
I'm in a angsty, fluffy, sensitive babie mood. You know that silly prank people do where they text/talk to their partner all serious about having to confess something serious just to tell them "I'm Batman". So imagine Bucky does that but he has no idea how badly it would trigger you.
"Y/n" Bucky entered your shared bedroom quietly, letting his heavy duffle bag hit the ground with a thud. "There's-there's something I have to tell you"
"What is it, is everything okay baby" You set down the book you were reading, growing worried seeing his fallen expression. He sighs, slowly approaching the bed and taking a seat by the edge next to you. You move to see if he's injured anywhere but he stops you, resting his hand on your leg.
"I'm fine. It's just-something I've been meaning to tell you. Probably something I should've told you a long time ago" He bites his lip contemplating his next words, itching to burst into a fit of giggles. "I have to tell you the truth"
"Tell me the truth?" Your stomach drops and your throat starts to tighten. "You can tell me Bucky, anything" You struggle to keep your voice steady, holding your breath, waiting for his next words.
"It's just-I can't believe I kept this from you and it isn't fair to you at all, you know?" He runs his hand through is locks while keeping his blue eyes cast down. "It's been going on for about a year now..."
If you weren't already sitting down, you would've passed out. All the pervious anxieties you'd had in past relationships, all the deep insecurities and worries you had came pouring out at once, your deepest fears coming true.
Of course Bucky was seeing someone else.
Of course you weren't good enough.
Of course he cheated on you just like the last guy, why did you think you deserved someone to love you, obviously-
"I'm bat man!-baby? baby, what's wrong" Bucky went from giggling like a madman to feeling pure dread within a matter of seconds seeing your tear streaked face. His nervous act was no longer just an act, anxiety filling his chest seeing you so distraught. "Oh God, baby don't cry, I was joking, c'mere"
"W-what?" You sniffled, trying to swallow down a hiccup while Bucky scrambled to scoop you in his arms, wiping away your tears.
"I was just kidding around with you doll, I said I was bat man, I didn't mean to upset you babygirl" Bucky cooed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head while you slowly got your breathing under control again. Bucky truly thought you would've whacked him with a pillow or playfully shoved him off the bed, never in a million years did he think you'd take actually any of this seriously. You whimpered in his arms as he squeezed you tighter, continuing to give you soft, sweet kisses.
"Baby-do you-do you really think I'd ever cheat on you?" He spoke softly, keeping you cradled in a ball, close to his body. A part of him felt hurt that you felt that way, that he'd ever given you room to think he would do such a thing. He thought he was going to cry, the very thought of being with anyone else made his heart hurt.
"I thought you were seeing someone else" you whispered, old pains of coming in second resurfacing. "Maybe you found someone better-
"Never" Bucky moved to cup your cheeks firmly in his hands, making you look at him, "I would never. I love you so much angel, so much it fucking hurts. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. I wouldn't even dream of someone else. I couldn't, I-fuck, you're everything to me" His own voice nearly cracked with emotion, resting his forehead against yours. "I love you. I love you like I've loved no one else, you have my heart sweet girl"
"Promise?" You toyed with his dogtags while he pressed his lips firms to yours, sealing every bit of his feelings with that kiss.
"I promise baby" He pulled you down to lay with your head resting on his chest, his hand gently playing with your hair, "So back to what I was confessing - Ow"
...
"I deserved that"
2K notes · View notes
slutforalastor · 20 days
Note
you never thought this day might come, sat down with the Radio Demon's head in your lap, his gaze lazy and half-lidded as he allows you, generously, so generously, to touch the pronged antlers that extend from the top of his head. His lips pass soft white noise as you run a finger from the base to the tip of his antlers, the vibration that you can feel beneath the hard exterior somewhere between the hum of a domestic appliance and the throb, throb, throb of a heartbeat
You can feel Alastor's shoulders tense up whenever you put too much pressure on them, his calm breathing briefly interrupted every time you push his sensitivity past his tolerance. Each time you find yourself being too exploratory, you correct yourself back to the safety of gentle strokes, letting your fingertips soak in the unique texture. They are somewhere between the firm smoothness of exposed bone, like his teeth when they drag across the topmost layer of your skin, leaving perfect streaks too shallow to bleed, too pronounced to refute their creator, and the spongy give of delicate flesh. You know the trust he's imparted to you to be given this kind of access; not only does he so limit incoming touch, but resents any reminder of his reincarnation as a prey animal.
"I'm surprised you're okay with this," you murmur to him, so unwilling to compromise the sanctity of this moment.
"Only because it is you," Alastor assures you, his tone just as hushed.
You continue, relishing in this opportunity. You explore every hook and divot of the black extensions, marveling at the current of demonic energy that pulses through them. It was your impression that they only grew when Alastor was angry, but not quite: any overwhelming passion, be it joy, theoretically speaking, or fear, or sadness, and they will billow out. You wonder if you can elicit such a response. Your opening gambit is strong: you lean into his ear, whispering "If anyone else were to do this, you'd tear them apart, wouldn't you?"
"For even less than this, dearest. I'd assumed that was obvious."
"But not me?"
"But not you."
"Maybe I want you to tear me apart, love."
The first sign; you feel a shift through the skeletal system they're connected to, a tremor of recognition, of sudden awoken desire.
"I'm sure you just aren't aware of what you're asking for."
"No, I'm all too aware. You want something deeper, too, don't you? It can't be enough just to meet in such a temporary union, only to separate. I want you to bring a little piece of me along with you, knowing you've claimed more than just one part of me, but any you desire."
He shudders, deeper this time, and you feel growth. Sharp edges and deeper curves sprout like curling ivy where there had once been certain ends, like a blossoming tree bursting into life. Your loving strokes down the length of his antlers grow deeper, more pronounced, almost incessant.
"What game are you playing at?" Alastor pants, his breathing hitching every time you push against them with any kind of firmness.
"I love seeing what you do."
His body has seized, but doesn't do anything else. You can feel the efforts of the sinew across his back against your lap. Best of all are his facial expressions; his initial contentment has evolved, firstly into surprised, the edges of his bladed grin peeking out from his thin lips, his eyes squinted and playful. Now it's become a look of desire, his mouth open slightly, droning a steady song with no melody but a captivating refrain, nonetheless. His eyes plead with you; so uncharacteristic, for him to be putty in your hands. To think you could hold the high ground in any situation, much less as a result of this.
"Don't toy with me," he warns, but his voice doesn't sound assured. It sounds needy, like a request for more.
"I would never, love."
"Then end this teasing," he begs.
You do as he asks, taking your hands away from his antlers. With some strain, he manages to get his breathing back under control, his antlers receding like the retreating tide, back to their typical size. "Did you enjoy yourself?" you wonder, after he's calmed himself.
He looks at you with mischief etched in his features. "Not as much as I'm sure I will soon enough." ~~~
480 notes · View notes
kidrat · 11 months
Text
having feelings about trans Gwen,,, like there's the 'superhero leading a double life' allegory for being closeted, which ppl have noted, but there's plenty I haven't seen anyone mention yet! like, the fact her dad has a trans patch in support of her means she's out.
She's a young trans *girl* (as opposed to a trans woman) living as her authentic gender in a loving home. she went to her school dance in a dress. she did ballet! which of course boys can do too, but often times when people are assigned male they don't get the chance to explore feminine hobbies. It's really lovely that someone, likely Gwen's dad, supported her enough to let her have those girly experiences and memories, whether she was living as a girl when she took dance up or as a gnc boy.
While it's subtle rep, I still think it's awesome to imply a character like Gwen is trans. Trans girls don't always get to have a childhood. Transmisogyny fetishizes transfems and presents them as always victimisers, never victims. They're barred from girlhood and it's connotations of innocence, vulnerability, lovableness.
Not that Gwen isn't a hashtag strong female character! And not that she hasn't had to grow up fast in other ways. She Is Literally Spiderwoman and she plays the drums and has agency and expresses negative emotions. But she's also a teenager, and she gets to be hugged and comforted, and to be set up for a soft friends to lovers relationship with another teenager, a cis boy who respects her and only knows her as a girl and thinks she's amazing and draws her in his sketchbook. That is not a role the media often lets trans girls have!!! It's lovely to think young transfems might be able to see themselves in a character consistently shown as worthy of affection.
Of course, the fact that Gwen is in the closet about being spider-woman is even sadder knowing this is her second rodeo. Lots of us have hesitated to come out a second time because our parents were supportive about the first thing and well, putting something else on them feels like taking the piss or hoping for too much.
Something else I wanted to talk about is how Gwen being trans effects a reading of her Peter's death, especially taking into account the new information this film gave us about this. There's this gendered switch happening, where Peter passes on his usual role to a woman. What's more, he has to die for her story to happen. She loves him, and never wanted him to die, but she's blamed for it anyway. Her father talks affectionately about the dead Peter, calling him his daughter's best friend. He talks about him like a son. He vows revenge on Gwen for killing him. It's a fantastic allegory for how some transphobic parents hate their out trans children for 'killing' the kid they had before.
I think with the above in mind, maybe we can see the subtext of Gwen's arc with her dad in this film as that of a supportive parent who's nevertheless got some biases left that hurt his trans daughter, who doesn't speak up for fear his acceptance is conditional.
I don't think it's a stretch to suggest that protecting a trans daughter is this Captain Stacy's motivation while he's working as a cop. Obviously there's the text that he wants to be a 'good cop' to work against the institution's bigotry, and he displays the trans flag on his work jacket. His quitting the police is a fantastic story beat because it makes a point about the real world while also serving a lot of the analogies going on.
Good cops quit. They realise you can't be a well intentioned cog in a bigoted machine. It doesn't matter if you're a bigot or just taking actions a bigot might because you're working within parameters set by bigots. It's an important message. Within a trans reading of the film, I'd also see this plot moment as Stacy realising he can't protect his trans daughter if he's still playing by the rules of a society that see her as threatening and duplicitous. He's then able to stop seeing her on some level as having killed his son.
They're able to be close again because he has completely rejected the cis culture he was a part of, rather than just decrying the worst parts and slotting Gwen in. She no longer has to worry that he'll rescind his acceptance if she's too trans, and so he gets to know all of her because she can let him into her world without self-editing.
Anyway, those are my thoughts on Gwen after watching Across The Spiderverse two hours ago lmao.
3K notes · View notes
krispykollection · 26 days
Text
Peanut Butter
Part 1: Anjay
"Seriously Anjay you're eating more of that stuff? Look at yourself, do you really think you need more? You're practically bursting out of your skin already."
Gosh, I almost can't even believe how we got here. If you had asked me if I'd be standing backstage at a local bodybuilding show with a hulked out and glistening version of my best friend Anjay, I'd have for sure thought I were hallucinating off some bad lunch… Funny how close to truth that would end up to be.
It all started 3 days ago when an unannounced package appeared on our doorstep addressed to Anjay. Not only was he not expecting anything, the contents were even stranger. Pulling off the packing paper revealed contents not immediately familiar to two skinny young men like us.
To the left a shimmery pile of purple blueish fabric. Anjay held it up cautiously as it unfurled. The garment presented itself as a bikini, the sight of it filling both of us with an awkward embarrassment of being in possession of such an obscene object.
Anjay quickly dropped it on the table before turning his attention back to the box. I had to lean in closer to make out the next object of mystery. A brown bottle of… tanning oil? "What kind of crazed sex fetish shit is this, David?" Anjay turned to me and questioned.
I didn't know what to say, so I just looked back down at what's left. The remaining item, while on the one hand familiar, only served to confuse further. It was a container of plain old peanut butter. At least something normal, but what on earth did it have to do with any of this? As I picked it up to examine it closer a final item was revealed underneath, and with it an explanation.
"Ohhh" we remarked in unison with the kind of trailing off that makes it clear we're still skeptical. It was a pass for what appeared to be a local bodybuilding show and not just any kind of pass, one for a competitor. That well explained the first two items, not a bikini, but a pair of posers, and not just any tanning oil, the kind used to cake a fake shimmering bronze sheen onto huge muscle heads so they can show off their freakish masses onstage.
The peanut butter could be reasoned to be just a backstage snack for a lunk like the probable intended recipient, but that's where the last mystery comes into play. The name on the badge, it was Anjay's. Realizing the same, he flipped the top flap of the box back to check the address on the shipping label, sure enough it was ours. "Hmph…" he said defeatedly.
In an effort to put a quick and tidy end to the strange past few minutes we had found ourselves in, I offered up a solution. "I guess there must be some other Anjay Bajwa in the area, the show probably just got the wrong address."
Anjay tacitly agreed. I'm sure we both knew the obvious holes in that explanation, our town isn't all that big, and being solidly in the midwest of the united states, Anjay Bajwa was not exactly a common name.
"This guy probably wants this… stuff, right? Should we, uh, try to find him?" Anjay weakly questioned.
I conjured up the image of the intended recipient. Some roided out freak standing wider than a doorway with arms bigger than my head ready to crush someone like me in a single moment. A rush of fear ran down my spine. With a similar picture playing out in Anjay's head, we turned to face each other and in unison uttered "Nah…"
Anjay put the items back in the box and loosely closed the flaps. He tossed it in the corner of the room to hopefully forget about, at least for a awhile.
I wish I could say the strangeness ended there, in fact that was almost true, all the way up to this morning.
I woke up before Anjay. The apartment was bare so I decided to head out early, grab a coffee and a bite, and run some errands. When I got back in the late morning I could sense something was off even before I opened our front door.
Through the opening door I spotted not Anjay, but a nearly naked yoked out freak. I stood frozen for a moment. He was thankfully facing away from me admiring himself in the small mirror hanging on the wall. I spied something familiar, the colorful posers. That's when it hit me, this must be the other Anjay looking for his package. A rush of fear shot down my spine, what if he's pissed we had it? Just look at those fucking arms, that back, he could pulverize me without breaking a sweat.
I stood there long enough for the creature to take notice. As he turned to face me, my fear took it's place as a side dish, with a main course of bewilderment. It was Anjay, my Anjay, from neck up at least, or what's left of it. Finally I broke my silence exclaiming "What the hell, man?!"
"Dave! I'm soo glad you're home! Bro, drop that stuff but hold onto your keys, we gotta hurry!" I instinctively stepped out of the way as he came powering towards me. In another second he was out the door, a gust of wind cast from his wide torso the only remnant by the time I had spun around. He was halfway down the hallway by the time I made it out the door. I was astonished he could move so fast with how big his legs had gotten, they clashed with every step yet he was practically sprinting to the parking lot. Still he was clad in nothing but those posers, but passerby's opted to say nothing, either terrified by the sight in front of them or insanely aroused.
Thankfully I hadn't locked my car doors, otherwise Anjay might have ripped the door clear off the hinges. The shocks of my late model sub compact protested as he slammed his weight into my passenger seat. Jeez, how much does he, does Anjay weigh now? Following his lead, I quickly hopped into the car myself. As I got in though, I slammed into what felt like cement, but turned out to be Anjay's arm.
"Huh, sorry bro, not used to my new width." Did he always say bro so much?
"Where exactly are we going in such a hurry?" I ask. That's when he pulled out another familiar item, the badge, pointing at it and exclaiming "Remember this? The expo center!"
"You've got to be kidding me!" too much had happened, too much had changed, it's all I could blurt out. "Look at me Dave, I'm gonna clean up bro!" Okay, that's a bro every sentence. "C'mon, we're gonna be late!" I took a second to sit and process as he sat by anxiously… "Okay, fine we'll go, but you gotta tell me what the hell happened to you."
Anjay was more than happy to tell the story of his morning. He started before I could even shift into reverse.
"Bro! oh my god bro, you won't believe it! So I woke up and there was like nothing in the house, but then I remembered that peanut butter from the other day. I grabbed a big ol' spoonful and plopped my ass on the couch."
As he spoke I found it hard to pay attention to the road, he was so animated, only exaggerated by his newly huge muscles, they were bulging everywhere at the slightest movement.
"A few minutes later, I started feeling this fuzzy feeling, I didn't know what it was, but it felt good. Bro that's when I noticed something else, my body was moving under my clothes, I lifted up my shirt and I had abs, abs bro!"
He took the opportunity to point at his obvious abs, flexing as he did.
"Once I connected the dots I practically ran back to the tub and dug back in… and before I knew it I looked and it was half gone! I knew I had fucked up, so I ran to the bathroom to check out the damage."
"My clothes were pulling apart at the seams, huge fucking peaks ripping through the arms, pecs busting out the front." He flexed each muscle group as he called it out. "Fuckin' delts, abs, quads, lats, traps, my god bro, you have no idea how good it felt, how good I feel!"
I recognized some of those words as he said them, using his obvious context clues for the ones I didn't. I had no idea Anjay was so knowledgeable about muscle.
"I didn't want to completely freak you out." Mission decidedly not accomplished. "So I tried to find something to wear, but the only thing that would fit were those posers… when I slipped them on bro oh shit, they felt so good, I looked so good, but then something else happened. My mind started filling with all this new knowledge… muscle groups, workout routines, diets, supplements, cycles, poses! Before I knew it I was a champion bodybuilder, through and through!"
"Yeah, you can say that again…" I said acknowledging the physical embodiment of his statement. "I'm worried those posers might of sucked some knowledge out of you Anjay, since when do you use bro as a punctuation mark?"
"Haha, don't be silly bro, I've always talked like this… and call me AJ."
AJ? I sat there just wishing for my friend Anjay back, not this beefed up bro'd out version of him. Hesitantly I continued, "Ok… AJ, I just didn't know you were so into muscle?"
"I wasn't…" he paused "at least I think I wasn't, but I mean look at me bro, who wouldn't want this?" With that he raised both of his arms up to flex. As he did his lats? flared out and brushed my shoulder. "Shit, I didn't even know you could even have muscles there."
"Bro I got muscles everywhere and then some. Look at the class on my badge, super heavyweight… damn right! Fuck, I'm so pumped, I'm gonna crush it!"
Anjay… I mean AJ, had his bare foot on the ground before I had even come to a full stop upon arriving. Again I followed in tow. Unlike at the apartment, the sight of a muscleman clothed only in a shiny pair of posers was of shock to no one inside. It's what they're all here to see, what I was here to see I guess?
He led us straight backstage, scattered around were other men and their own companions all getting ready for their time onstage. Looking around I was shocked to realize that AJ was the biggest of any of them.
"Bro, take this," he handed me the bottle of tanning oil "you gotta help me tan up."
I was taken aback "I uhh… well I mean, I don't uhh." I looked around, elsewhere many men were doing the same, but I couldn't I mean, we're friends, but I.
"Fine," he grabbed the bottle back "I'll get started."
He dotted the bronze tan across his chest and started rubbing it in, following it up with his legs and arms. If you thought he looked insane before, with the shimmery coat of tan his new freakish form really popped. Halfway through, I heard his gut grumble, he turned back to grab something else, the peanut butter.
---
"Seriously Anjay you're eating more of that stuff? Look at yourself, do you really think you need more? You're practically bursting out of your skin already."
"I told you bro, call me AJ. Anjay sounds so… formal. As for this," he says as he gulps down a spoonful "I'm lickin' this baby clean…" "Now, I've done as much as I can, I need your help buddy, I can't reach my back." He contorts his arms up and over or behind and up showing just how far he is from reaching.
"I guess there's one downside to all those shiny new muscles," I quip.
"I wouldn't call it a downside, not when I have a bro like you…" with that he made a little pouty face unbecoming of his brutal form. I relent and swallow my awkwardness. "Hand me the bottle." His eyes light up.
I walk around AJ, and I mean around, and find myself staring at the contrasted light patch of his wide back. Man, I really wish I had gloves for this, I lament as I squirt a dollop into my palm. Distributing it between my hands I took a deep breath… here goes nothing.
I feel a jolt of electricity run though me as I make contact. Something's changed, something's flipped. I watch myself as I spread the bronze coating. The back in front of me is the same, but the interpretation has changed. It's not shocking, nor disgusting, it's a thing of beauty. I zoom out in my head, my god, the whole thing is, he is, AJ is. I feel my hands gliding over the many ridges of his back, turning perfection into more perfection. That's when I notice something else, the effects from the latest bite of peanut butter… he's growing. I can see his flesh expanding between my fingers, I can feel it press ever so slightly more against my hands. I've never felt so connected to AJ and I know he can feel it too. The world around us taking a backseat to our own shared reality.
I reapply and venture my hands further down south ensuring that his colossal glutes get the attention they deserve. I pull down his posers, ensuring every inch gets covered. Before I know it my fingers found themselves deep inside as I gently tease his hole. Electricity shoots through me again as I watch him squirm.
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice a figure coming in hot to our left. Fuck, we're busted, I think, followed up quickly by a different thought, wait, what the fuck am I doing?
The figure comes into focus, it's a frantic respectfully beefed up man in an official looking polo.
"There you are!" he yells out to us as I casually snap AJ's poser back into place. "You missed check-in, you better come with me right now if you don't wanna get DQ'd."
Not allowing for any protest he grabs AJ's hand to lead him away, muttering under his breath as he does, "These lunks, the big ones can't hold a thought in their head outside of their next rep…"
AJ grabs the peanut butter as he stumbles, then walks away. In between bites he shouts back "Grab a seat bro, I'll be lookin' for ya!"
With nowhere else to go I follow his instructions and find a seat in the amphitheater. In the relative calm I have a moment to process the events of the past few hours. Here I am, sitting at a bodybuilding competition waiting for my best friend to walk onstage and show off his insane muscles. I thought about how I feel about that, I have a vague recollection of being scared and confused, but now it seems clear. AJ's got muscles, he's a bodybuilder, of course we're at a bodybuilding competition. The only thing I feel now is anticipation.
I flash back to backstage as I sit and wait. I can't get the image out of my head. His muscles… so big, so hot, muscles are hot, AJ is hot, fuck! AJ is hot! I can't wait to see him again, to touch, I shiver. Almost on command the lights in the amphitheater lower to signal the start of the show.
Competitors start marching onstage, they all have nothing on AJ, I think, only confirming more as they continue to appear. The stage slowly fills as each hits their mark. Still no sign of AJ. I briefly worry something happened to him.
But then, the backlights of the stage are snubbed out by a hulking figure. It steps out under the stage lights. It's unlike any other man up onstage, it's hard to believe it's man at all. It's AJ.
Tumblr media
A hush washes over the amphitheater. You couldn't just see, but you could feel his movements, you could hear him coming. The thuds of his footsteps, the stretch of his posers trying to hold back the mass he's become.
He hasn't even flexed a muscle yet but all eyes were on him. I had no idea a man could be so beautiful. He is absolutely bursting with muscle. Every limb, every surface stacked with veiny glistening meat. I find myself getting hard. I stroke my cock through my shorts and make note of many other men in the audience doing the same.
AJ is wearing a cocky smile confirming that he is aware of all our gazes. He coyly takes his place in the lineup, pretending that there's any possible way the show will go on as planned now that everyone has seen him.
To their credit, they did attempt to run though a few poses, but even those onstage found it hard to hold form when their attention was quickly snapping back to their muscled colleague. Noticing this, AJ steps forward to give everyone what they wanted, his juicy up body, up close and personal.
AJ goes through an entire routine like he's spent ages perfecting every pose. His front double bi threatens to encase his head in delt and bicep meat. His ab and thigh positively does. And those thighs, wide sweeping drops of muscle, transforming into carved marble columns as he stomps down.
He turns around to face the other competitors, winking at their astonished faces as he does. It's time to give everyone else the a view of what they've been seeing. His lat spread seems to just go wider and wider without any sign of stopping. And his glutes, my god, they're absolutely planetary.
Spinning back around, AJ playfully takes a customary bow indicating the end of the show. It was indeed the end of the show and he needn't move from that spot on center stage. Not wanting to keep the godlike figure waiting, officials rush out and crown him champion.
There's no lineup. Second, third, who cares, everyone else is a blur. He's first, second, and third both in size and perfection. Medals in hand, AJ turns and leaves the stage, leaving the crowd to reflect on what they just witnessed.
I find AJ backstage, swarmed by all types, attendees, officials, media, competitors, they all couldn't get enough of him, couldn't get close enough to him. He sees me and pushes his wide body through the crowd like it's nothing. He doesn't even skip a beat as he scoops me up and carries me out of the room.
I can tell I weigh nothing to him. I'm a warmup weight. Even without being terribly stressed, his muscles were putting on a show for me. I watch his biceps and pecs bulge to hold me, just taking in the sensation of being cradled by muscle. We lock eyes and smile knowingly.
AJ whisks us away into a side room away from the crowd and gently sets me down in front of him. The room is bare aside from us and the plastic taped on walls and floor for tan smearing muscle beasts like AJ. Not exactly what you'd call ambiance, but it didn't matter. We have all we need.
Without saying a word I step forward and place my hands on his chest. He flexes in approval. I feel a jolt run though me as I feel his pecs shift from beautiful pillows to striated boulders. I lean down and press my cheek against his cobblestone abs. I linger just feeling the motion of his gut contracting and expanding with every breath.
I bring my hands down to his posers and slip them down, his dick pleasingly flops out already semi-hard. As he comes to full mast I realize it's larger than I remember. It didn't grow as much as everything else, but it's still impressive. A stiff golden rod setting itself out from his dark bronzed quads.
I wrap my lips briefly around just the tip before taking it in deep with a skill like I had done this hundreds of times before. I'm in ecstasy as I feel AJ fill me so completely, as I hear him moan with pleasure while I hit all the right spots, as I watch his quads twitch up close and personal with every suck. His movements and breaths become sharply staccato as I take him to climax.
AJ grunts with gorilla-like intensity as he rockets three hot, huge, loads down my throat. I stand up and wipe my lips as AJ comes back down to earth. Once he does, he chooses to finally break the silence with, "It's your turn now, bro." His voice booms deeper than I remember, the statement hitting me like a ton of bricks. He turns around and fully drops his posers, struggling briefly against his quad meat as he does.
My already erect member twitches even harder at the sight of his uncovered ass. Even more so when he leans forward and his massive cheeks split. I hastily drop my pants and am practically pulled in like a vortex. I place my soft hands on AJ's granite glutes before inserting my cock into his waiting hole. I'm glad I went in so deep with the tan earlier, it serving as rudimentary lube.
As I begin to thrust, I watch the dancing mountainous landscape of AJ's back in front of me. His ass is magnificent, so firm and tight. Every few strokes he squeezes his mighty glutes ever so little sending pleasure rocketing through me and also reminding me that he could crush my dick to smithereens in a single flex if he wanted to, this only serving to rile me even more. Regardless, it's clear who is in control in this moment, he wants this just as bad as I do.
I collapse forward onto AJ's back as I cum. We both stay in this position for a few seconds while we catch our breath. Standing back up, we make ourselves as decent as we can. AJ pulling his skimpy poser back into place and me pulling my pants back up and trying and failing to wipe the stripes of bronzer now all over my skin and clothes.
I laugh as I look up at AJ. "What?" he asks.
"Sorry, I wore a spot out on your tan, haha."
AJ chuckles to himself as he turns to face me. "Oh shit bro, but look at you" I'm practically covered in splotches of bronzer. "Honestly, doesn't look to bad on ya, have you ever considered bodybuilding?" AJ heartily boasts. We both chuckle with the silly question serving to encapsulate the wild ride we both have been on.
"Something tells me there's a lot more of this to come, but first… this tank bro" AJ slaps his bloated muscle gut, "she's gonna need a lot more than peanut butter to fill 'er up."
With that we head back out together in search of what I assume is an ungodly amount of food to fill up my hulking best friend… boyfriend? possibly.
We're a total mess, anyone looking at us would have no trouble putting together what we just did. We hold our heads high regardless, because who gives a fuck, like you wouldn't if you could. But you can't, so might as well flaunt what's mine. Besides in reality no one is giving me a second glance next to him.
---
In that first stroll together as an item out in the world, AJ and David find themselves in a place of pure joy and contentment, ecstatic about their budding new reality and relationship. Little did they know what was coming next.
Waiting innocently on their doorstep… another package… Wonder who it's addressed to?
451 notes · View notes
fangswbenefits · 3 months
Text
The Arrangement (13) - Tempest
Tumblr media
Chapter summary: A much needed conversation takes place... as well as a realisation that might change everything.
Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav
Warnings: Mentions of trauma.
Word count: 4.6k
Series masterlist . AO3
There was a crack on the ceiling.
A deep scowl settled on your face as you lay sprawled along the large bed, staring at the lightning-like fissure that had caught your attention.
How deep did it run? Had it been there all along? You wouldn't know. After all, you seldom spent time in this room.
His room.
Astarion had never shown interest in moving in with you and the others. He kept to himself and rushed to find accommodation at The Blushing Mermaid. You couldn't really fault him for wanting to keep to himself.
But you still kept this room vacant just in case he changed his mind.
He never did.
Little did you know that it would be a myriad of unfortunate events that had hurled him into this very room.
Until a few nights ago.
He left before you could convince him otherwise. 
Guilt had been boiling in the pit of your stomach ever since, but you had come to accept that some things were out of your control.
The house confinement had been lifted after much insistence on Wyll's part. It no longer seemed appropriate, yet he promised to keep Fists nearby just in case.
Still, Astarion was now free to do as he saw fit.
Wyll had met up with him and he was seemingly doing well.
Seemingly.
The events of that night kept on flashing in your mind, as you sought to find a rational explanation to what could have caused him to stare at you the way he had.
Revulsion.
Disgust.
Had you taken it too far? Maybe you should have suggested for him to feed on you. Maybe you shouldn't have been brought up that night.
Maybe, maybe, maybe…
You could go on forever, going over countless possibilities, but you were not inside his head.
Only he had the answers to your questions.
This was the logical side of you urging your mind to make peace with what is out of your control.
But your heart still clenched and ached and hurt.
Your feelings had been severed from all logic.
You still felt the need to go through that event, desperate to find solace.
That maybe this, too, would pass.
Maybe.
And just as always, a tear detached from the corner of your eye and streamed downwards, leaving a familiar wet trail in its wake.
Glancing around, you could still see so much of him everywhere.
His embroidery set, his books, his shirts, some of his vials of poison.
Even his scent lingered.
You hadn't even bothered drawing the curtains and letting the sun or moon in.
It was as if he was everywhere and nowhere all at once.
You heaved a deep sigh as you mustered the strength and will to shift your focus on what you could control.
The crack on the ceiling stared at you and you stared back at it, eventually deciding you should do something about it.
Pushing yourself off the bed, you placed both hands on your hips with newfound determination.
This you could fix.
Maybe.
The door was open, and you yelped in surprise as you saw movement in the corner of your eye.
Wyll was leaning against the doorframe with folded arms and the same kind and soft expression he always held around you.
“I didn't mean to scare you.”
You ran your hands along the silky fabric of the nightdress to adjust it before slipping into your robe, tying it snugly around your waist.
“Oh, I was simply distracted.” you blurted out, hurriedly wiping the wetness from your face.
An understanding smile curved his lips. “I knew I'd find you in his room.”
“It's not his room,” you immediately said. “Well – not really,” you added, fearing you had come across as too harsh.
He arched an eyebrow but said nothing.
Your gaze landed on the ceiling once more. “There's a crack on the ceiling.”
He slowly joined your side and followed your line of sight. “So there is.”
“I need to fix it.”
“You? Now? Do you think the ceiling is giving in?”
You stared at him, perplexed. “What?”
“Do you think it poses danger?” he asked, his eyes on you. “It is quite small.”
There was an argument to be made that the size of things seldom mattered.
Tiny cracks could make way to bigger ones.
Tiny cracks could still hurt.
They could still inflict damage.
You felt a hand on your shoulder, and you flinched. “Are you well?”
“Yes. Quite.”
An obvious lie you hadn't bothered to flesh out.
He didn't look convinced in the slightest, but didn't press things further.
You enjoyed that about Wyll. He knew exactly when silence was the best and more adequate answer. Sometimes, words just weren't enough.
Eventually, you cleared your throat. “I assume you're not here just visiting.”
“You caught me,” he said playfully, hands laced behind his back. “I come bearing news.”
From the way his face had faintly dropped, you could immediately tell your mood was about to shift in an unwanted direction.
“Ava?”
He nodded. “We still haven't been able to tie her to anything as of yet.”
You felt your stomach clench with dread. “It can't be… she has to be involved somehow.”
“I agree. I have the finest inquisitors trying to break through her facade – if she has one.”
There had to be something.
She had to be responsible.
“What about Rob Sorel? Surely he can be of help.”
A scowl twisted his face. “Nothing as of yet. He has a solid alibi that he insists on roping her into. Besides, he's an established patriar of the city, there is only so much pressure we can apply before tensions rise amongst the noblemen.”
A shaky sigh rushed past your lips. 
Wyll was stuck between a rock and hard place, no doubt. On one hand, he sought to act dutifully and according to his moral code. On the other hand, he was far from being impartial in the matter, and his friendship towards both you and Astarion could be seen as a compromising factor.
“How much time do we have until you have to set them free?”
“Maybe one more day,” he said. “Rob Sorel is the tricky part here. Ava has no power, but he does. He has connections that extend far beyond our reach, and if they take notice that he's imprisoned, it might trigger unforeseeable consequences.”
You began pacing around the room, urged by your nervousness and frustration.
“What of Waterdeep?”
Wyll followed your every move with his eyes. “Gale has yet to encounter anything suspicious that could be tied to her.”
You slumped into a nearby chair and pressed your face into the palms of your hands, letting out a growl. “I am not wrong about this,” you said almost pleadingly, lips quivering. “Wyll. I am not wrong. She – there is something wrong with her. Astarion…”
Your voice trailed off at the mention of his name in your mouth.
It hurt.
A painful jab in your chest rendered you silent, and you lowered your face, anticipating tears of frustration.
Wyll rushed to your side, placing a comforting hand atop your head, patting it gently.
“We will figure this out. You have my word.”
His word held weight. You knew of this. If there was anyone in Baldur's Gate whose word was worth gold, it was Wyll's.
But… “It is not fair. It is not fair that now he doesn't want to pursue this anymore… because of her.”
Wyll dropped to one knee, eye-levelling with you. “Astarion is stronger than we give him credit for, and he is free to choose his own path.”
“What if it's the wrong one?”
“You can't decide that for him,” Wyll reasoned, taking your hand in his. “All we can do now is give him time and respect that.”
Astarion needed time and you needed to find a way to make that realisation less agonising. 
You wanted nothing more than to be a comforting presence to him, but surely not at the expense of his well-being.
Breaking into a sob, you managed to stare into his eyes. “How is he doing?”
Wyll offered the warmest smile. “I believe he is doing well – within reason, that is. He was spotted hunting in the outskirts of the city before I got here.”
That should have put your mind at ease, but it only seemed to make matters worse.
“It's not enough… boars and deers and carrion cannot satiate him as thinking creatures do.”
His hand tightened around yours and his face was firm. “Are you referring to yourself?”
Your heart skipped a beat.
“I do not mean to pry on your relationship with him, but you're a dear friend of mine,” he began. “I am aware you want to help him get through his hunger, but you don't have to.”
Immediately, you pulled your hand from his grasp as if burned.
You didn’t need to be scolded on this.
“Don’t. Do not do this.”
Wyll fell silent, but there was a hint of sadness sprawled across his features.
Then it quickly dawned on you how unfair you were being towards him. 
“I apologise… you mean well, I know.”
Ever courteous, Wyll shook his head. “I overstepped a line. You care deeply for him and the bond you two share is foreign to me.”
This time, you took his hand in yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
Wyll also possessed a heart of gold that few could rival with. He never hesitated to take a step back if he believed to be in the wrong.
And he wasn't.
“No, you're right. You're merely looking out for a friend.”
“For both of you, actually,” he promptly corrected. “I care for both of you and I would detest for you to part ways unless as a last resort.”
You inhaled sharply. “We'll figure things out… hopefully.”
Were you trying to convince Wyll or yourself?
He rose to his full height, pulling you up with him. “If there is someone who can figure things out, it's you.”
How you wished that was so, but you accepted his words with a sincere smile.
“Do not fight me on this,” he said, playfully jabbing a finger into your shoulder. “You brought us all together
“It was only possible because of everyone's commitment,” you said truthfully. “Do not fight me on this.”
Wyll chuckled as you used his words against him, raising both hands. “Very well, very well.”
You looped your arm around his, allowing yourself to feel lighter and push the fear and concern aside even if just for a moment.
“It's quite late. You can stay over,” you offered kindly as the two of you headed downstairs.
He patted your hand. “Ah, I would gladly take up that offer, but duty calls.”
“At this hour?”
“The city never sleeps, my dear friend.”
It had to be an exhausting job more often than not, especially with all the unpredictability that came with it.
As you reached the kitchen, you were greeted by a couple of flickering candle lights spread across the room, providing just enough clarity for you to reach the front door.
Your arm slipped from his and you pulled him into a hug, which he reciprocated.
“Take care,” he said, patting your back lovingly. “We'll stay in touch.”
You nodded, fighting back the tears that had begun to prickle at your eyes.
When he finally pulled away, you realised that if Astarion had been there, he would have teased you to death about Wyll.
Alas…
With a final nod, he went out into the cool night, categorically greeted by two Fists that awaited him outside, ready to escort him back.
Just as you were about to close the door shut, Shadowheart's low voice was heard.
“Are you well? Was it a nightmare?”
You turned to face her. “Oh, no. Wyll dropped by to say that they might not be able to hold Ava as a prisoner for much longer.”
It was interesting that despite the abrupt departure from Astarion, you had been able to sleep undisturbed. Not a single nightmare or bizarre dream had plagued your subconscious ever since.
Granted, you had been using the lavender oil Shadowheart had gifted you, but its effectiveness was still debatable.
She grimaced, adjusting her own robes, as she reached the bottom of the stairs.
“Snivelling little cockroach,” she said with a hiss. “There must be a way to catch her in a lie.”
It was far too late and you were far too exhausted to pursue this matter once again.
You needed to step out and catch some fresh air.
“I'll be in the backyard.”
Shadowheart's quick steps drew near. “Do you want some company?”
“I'd rather be by myself, if that's alright.”
She nodded, giving your arm a reassuring squeeze. “Of course.”
Slipping past the open door, you made your way around the house and towards the back garden that Gale took pride in keeping luscious and vibrant.
You hadn't told any of them what had happened between you and Astarion a few nights ago.
They knew something had happened, but didn't press you for details, which you were thankful for. They assumed he had parted from the group again because of the whole Ava ordeal and that he needed to process things.
But you knew it was related to you. You knew deep inside you that something within him had been triggered and it made your heart clench knowing you were probably the root cause of it.
The gentle night breeze rushed past your cheeks, as you hurried along, barefoot and with only a thin robe to keep any semblance of heat close to your body.
The grass crunched softly under your feet and you only came to a halt once you found yourself surrounded by countless flowerbeds of all shapes and sizes.
You took a deep breath, calmness filling your lungs as the soothing scent of grass and pollen wafted around you.
It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough for now.
The crickets were in full force tonight which only added to the magical ambiance.
For the first time in what seemed like too long, you smiled widely.
You wrapped the robe around you tightly as you sat on the wooden bench by the impressive row of night orchids.
Mindlessly, your hand reached down and you plucked a wilted flower bud that had certainly gone past its time.
It was still as radiant as ever in hues of dark blue and purple.
You twirled the stem in between your fingers as you glanced up to admire the glinting stars high up above, sprawled across the sky.
Bathed in moonlight and surrounded by calm and quiet, you pulled your legs up and pressed them against your chest, resting your chin on your knees.
You vaguely wished you could freeze this moment in time and take in all the beauty that surrounded all of you.
“It's quite a sight.”
You jolted in your seat at the sound of a velvety voice.
Astarion.
Your eyes found his crimson ones in the dark of night, and an overwhelming urge to bolt straight into his arms nearly took over.
But your mind held you back, rooting you in place as you watched him approach.
“The stars, I mean,” he added with a purr, glancing upwards at the starry night sky.
The playful jab didn't go amiss and you felt a faint smile tugging at your lips.
He had uttered that same remark many moons ago, teasing you for entering his field of vision.
And now here he was, entering yours and capturing your attention like he had the first time.
It was as if the very sight of him was a force of nature that slammed mercilessly against your chest, robbing you of air.
Your heart was thumping so hard you could hear each heavy beat in your ears.
You leaned back, taking in the full sight of him.
He looked… well.
He looked fed.
He looked like himself.
But there was this aura about the way he slowly moved that indicated something was amiss.
Silently, he sat next to you, far enough that your heart skipped a fleeting beat.
Should you say something? Ask something? Should you wait for him? 
Astarion eventually turned to stare at you. “It's quite cold tonight yet you're out here wearing nothing but your paper-thin nightdress and an equally useless robe.”
You opened your mouth, but you just couldn't speak.
He slipped the thick cloak off his shoulders and draped it over yours with a click of his tongue.
“You were never one to properly look after yourself, but, darling… do not get sick on me,” he finished with what seemed to be a genuine teasing smile.
Words were stuck in your throat. The fear and dread that you might utter something wrong completely froze you in place.
He looked and talked like your Astarion.
But was he truly being himself?
His gaze dropped to the flower in your hand and he tugged it free from your grip, inspecting it closely.
“Ah, flowers… beautiful, but–”
“–they make for lousy poisons,” you completed, voice coming out raspy.
Another genuine smile ghosted his lips. “Yet it would look even more beautiful on you,” he said, his hand reaching out to tuck the stem behind your ear. “As most things do.”
“Astarion…” you said, swallowing hard.
“I meant every word.”
He was overcompensating and deflecting.
Your heart sank.
It wasn’t that he didn’t mean what he was saying, but you could tell this was an attempt at mending things between you without quite addressing the issue.
And he clearly realised you had seen right through him as he sighed. “Alright, alright… we do need to talk, don't we?”
You nodded silently.
A shiver ran through your body and it wasn't due to the cold breeze.
It was the gripping fear that whatever came next might break your spirit.
He fixed his stare somewhere in the distance before speaking again, “I apologise for leaving so hurriedly that night. I… supposed I got carried away and it felt rather overwhelming.”
Your mouth had dried up. “What did I do wrong?”
This time, he turned his head to fully face you, a sliver of confusion twisting his pleasant features. “You didn’t do anything wrong. It was me – my head – that got in the way.”
You didn’t believe him.
“You were talking to me and suddenly it was as if I had said something horrifying,” you whispered, doing your best to keep your tone steady. “It was me… it was something I said.”
He paused for a moment. “It is not your fault that this happens. I need you to understand that. Please.”
A lump formed in your throat but you swallowed it right away, not wanting to be bound to silence.
This conversation was long overdue.
“Can I be honest?”
He quickly nodded. “I would expect nothing less from you.”
You collected yourself and your heart. “I don't know how to help you… I don't know what to do…” you said truthfully, lacing your fingers together and unable to face his piercing eyes. “I don't want to be too much… I don't want to trigger you. I do–”
Astarion cut you off immediately. “Look at me. Please.”
He waited for you to do so and only then did he proceed. “There was a time I cursed from having a wriggling worm inside my head. Little did I know that that was the least of my problems. And this is my problem. Not yours.”
You had to bite down on your lower lip to keep it from quivering.
He suddenly looked weary, running a hand along his face. “I am tired – exhausted to have my mind holding my body back. There are times when I can go through with it… and it's mostly thanks to you and your patience.”
There was a part of you that was relieved that he wasn't upset with you.
But a more vicious part of you rose a voice inside your head, telling you he was merely doing damage control.
That he just wanted you for your blood.
“What's that look on your face?” he asked, sounding hurt. “You do not believe me?”
You pushed the mocking voice away and blinked. “No – I just… Astarion… I don't know what to do. I don't. I want to be here for you, but I keep fearing we're pushing it.”
He pressed his lips into a fine line, brows knitted together.
Your legs dropped and you straightened yourself with a sigh, the sudden movement causing the orchid to drop from behind your ear and onto the ground.
“What can I do? How can I help?”
He looked almost offended for a brief moment, but his features eased before he spoke, “I don't want you to treat me like a glasshouse. I don't want pity or mercy. I want whatever you are willing to give me.”
Your heart was beating faster than ever. “And what do you need?”
Silence.
Astarion kept mixing want with need and it often landed him in less than ideal situations.
“To finally be free. I believed facing Cazador and destroying him would grant me freedom, but there is no worse cage than your own mind.”
Now, that was an answer that made your eyes widen. 
Ava had once uttered similar words.
In truth, you expected him to make it all about you, but his words lifted a weight off your shoulders.
But there was still doubt in your mind.
“I can and will be here for you,” you said firmly. “But I need you to promise me something.”
He nodded.
“Please let me know whenever I say or do something that hurts you. That night–”
He held one hand up,  effectively silencing you. “That night was different. It was the timing of it all that caused me to…”
His voice faltered.
You waited for him to find it again.
And he did. “I don't want our relationship to revolve around some silly arrangement to keep me in line. As much as I crave your blood more than anything else, I do not wish for this to feel like a transaction.”
“I've always made it clear that I more than willingly give it to you.”
“Yet my mind tells me I am using you.”
It was as if someone had thrusted a knife into your heart. “Astarion – what? You… you're not.”
The mocking voice inside your head laughed loudly, making your shudder.
“Then don't offer me your blood,” he said. “Feeding on you has become tainted. For now… I can't do it.”
He's a liar. He's used you before and he's playing mind games again.
“You can feed again whenever you're ready,” you said, finding a way to voice your thoughts in the midst of the negativity that had such a tight hold on you. “I know wildlife isn't enough.”
Astarion’s shoulders slumped. “Thank you.”
You nodded.
He didn't know how close you were to breaking into tears. Not from what he was saying, but from the vitriol that your own mind was spewing in regards to him.
He wasn't inside your head, but you were.
And it was awful.
Still, you fought through it. You had to. “I'm here for you.”
You felt his cool fingers brush against yours.
“You don't have to be.”
One by one, your fingers laced with his and you realised your hand was freezing from the cool night air.
But you could still feel his touch.
You could still feel him.
“We can stay as friends.”
Astarion let out a growl of sheer frustration. “Why must you insist on this? Does it truly matter if we are friends or lovers or whatever other social construct you think we should fall under?”
His grip tightened around you, in a silent plea. 
“We're… us. No one is like us,” he went on. “We don't need labels or to follow any relationship rules that some drunkard shoved into a book.”
His last remark earned a chuckle from you, but mostly because he was so right.
“We're us.” you repeated.
“Yes. Whatever that entails. As long as you're comfortable with me, we're us.” 
Slowly but surely, your heartbeat slowed down, falling into a steady rhythm.
“I want you to be comfortable with me, too,” you said. “Just promise to let me in. If you need time and space, I will respect that, just… don't vanish.”
Silly girl, he'll break your heart again, the voice mocked.
“I promise.”
The two of you leaned back against the wooden bench, still quite far apart, but not letting go of each other's hands.
You felt so light it was almost if the faintest of breezes could carry you away, floating across the field of flowers.
But even if it were so, you doubted he'd let go of your hand.
You'd remain anchored to him.
For better or for worse.
You'd either float or sink with him.
You liked the options, because now they existed. Before this conversation, all you had was the impending feeling that the tiniest of cracks would tear through your relationship, and that it would sink.
Now, you had hope.
After a while, you spoke again, “What now?”
His thumb caressed yourse absentmindedly. “What do you mean?”
“We're at a standstill. The Ava situation… finding a way for you to walk in the sun. We're rooted in place, it seems.”
Somehow, he managed a chuckle. “You and I made progress, did we not? Even at the expense of everything else. Isn't that worth something?”
You found him staring at you with those crimson eyes of his and that genuine smirk that always got to you.
“I suppose. You're right… yet I can't help but feel sorry that you seem to be the one with much more to lose.”
He squeezed your hand playfully, earning a gasp from you. “Darling, you don't get it, do you? I've spent hundreds of years unable to form a single bond with anyone that didn't feel tainted or doomed. Until you came along. You and that bleeding heart of yours. If there is a price to be paid for a single meaningful relationship, I'll pay it.”
Your heart clenched and the first tears began to stream down your face.
You adored him.
In that moment, you wished to melt into his embrace.
“Besides, nothing is over yet. We're quite terrific at turning the impossible into possible.”
You chuckled, eyes welling up with more tears. He shifted closer to you, letting go of your hand and brushing both thumbs across your cheeks to wipe them clean.
“There is one regret I have, though.”
A jab of fear poked at you. “What is it?”
He cradled your face in his hands. “You're so cold right now and I cannot warm you up.”
You felt as though you might melt into his touch.
“Is that your only regret?” you asked playfully.
He shook his head. “I suppose not. Striking a deal with Ava might top this.”
Your face dropped instantaneously.
“Oh, I've ruined the moment, haven't I?”
“Maybe,” you said softly as he pulled back. “But we'll get through this. Whether you decide to pursue the Wish spell or not, I am here for you. We are here for you.”
He looked peaceful.
You hadn't seen that expression in a while.
“I remember Ava once saying that pursuing the Wish spell was folly. That I either wished to be cured from vampirism altogether, or that I'd end up some weirdly washed out version of a vampire spawn.”
Oh.
And then your heart plummeted as realisation hit you.
How did you not see this before?
“Astarion?”
“Hmm? What?”
Once again, your heart raced in your chest. “Astarion… who would benefit from you not having your vampirism meddled with?”
He arched an eyebrow in confusion. “What do you mean?”
Dread took over you and flinched away from his grip, bolting to your feet. “By preventing you from getting access to the Wish spell, you remain a spawn… untouched… your blood…”
Astarion's eyes widened.
“Shit.”
Tumblr media
TBC
878 notes · View notes
touyasdoll · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media
After Class
pairing: professor!Gojo x student!reader (fem)
word count: 1.8k
warnings: inappropriate power dynamics, professor kink, power play, cum eating, oral (f!receiving), reader is wearing a thong and a skirt, semi public sex, rough sex, let me know if I missed any
notes: turns out I can still write smut, I think. hope you enjoy <3
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
"My next class is in 20 minutes, gorgeous," Satoru coos in your ear, grinding the tent in his slacks against your thinly clad pussy, only concealed by the fabric of your cotton thong beneath your skirt.
"You should hurry up and fuck me then already. I don't wanna keep you, professor," you purr, glancing back at him over your shoulder as you drop your hips back.
A moan leaves your lungs as you grind on his length just right, sending a shiver along your spine as your soaked cunt clenches around nothing.
He does love to tease, but he doesn't have the luxury of time today and he knows it. He's also so hard that it's beginning to hurt and the noises coming from you only make it worse.
"I want to keep you though," he whispers smoothly as he drapes himself across your back, lowering himself on his long arms to brush his lips against the shell of your ear.
He nips at it, reaching down to free himself from his pants before he flips your skirt up and hooks a finger into the thin strip of cotton separating him from what he's after.
Should he be fucking a student? No.
Does he care when his cock is buried inside you though? Also no.
"M'all yours for the next 19 minutes, baby. Make 'em count," you say as you reach over to grab onto the edge of the desk as you shake your ass.
"You're gonna be mine for a lot longer, princess," he replies as he glides the head of his dick against your folds, letting your juices soak the tip before he slowly sinks inside of you.
A groan pulls from him as your breathless gasp echoes back at your from the surface of the large wooden desk. He's so big it's mind numbing. Even when he takes his time.
"Fuck, Satoru," you breathe his name out, whimpering when he starts to move.
He slowly draws his hips back, the motion occuring in time with the handsome smirk spreading across his face, which only portrays a fraction of the insanity this man is able to convey.
"I'd love to hear you say my name when I'm not inside you. It sounds so good on your tongue," he says as he stands tall and grabs your hips, rolling his own at a steady pace.
"It'd probably make me hard anyway," he continues as he suddenly picks up the tempo, gripping your hips hard enough to threaten to leave bruises in the wake of his long fingers as his thrusts start to jostle your entire frame.
You cry out, wholly overwhelmed by the sensations flooding your entire body. It's easy to forget just how good it feels when you're with him until you find yourself here again, drowning in him while his cock drowns in you.
You grip the edge of the desk tighter, clinging to it as the two of you both struggle not to grow too loud for fear of alerting someone passing by in the hall to your illicit activities.
"Holy shit, you feel so fucking good, baby," he growls through grit teeth, colliding with you at an almost unnatural pace as his cock grows impossibly harder inside of you. "So tight. S'like your pussy doesn't wanna let me go."
You wish you could respond, but you can't. Not with the way it feels like he's threatening to puncture your lungs with every unforgiving shift of his hips. It's all you can do to hang on while the pressure inside of you grows with each passing second.
You do respond with a cry, one of pure pleasure. Your nails press hard into the wood, clutching despertely like it's your only tether to this realm, because it is. The euphoria coursing through you, promising that it will overcome you, is so all encompassing that it nearly blinds you; it strikes you dumb.
He looks down, committing to memory the glorious sight of his cock plunging in and out of you, punishing your cunt. His and his only. You are his and, in this moment, you both know it, beyond a shadow of a doubt.
He puts his all into giving you what you want, what he knows that you need, driving himself into you with every ounce of strength that he has, spurred on by the need to claim you, even though he already has you right where he wants you. Pliant and accepting beneath him.
"Need you to cum for me, gorgeous. Can you do that?" he asks, his voice much more calm than his body feels as every inch of him grows taut, threatening to snap if pulled any tighter.
You nod, you think you do, at least. Everything is rendered inconsequential as something inside you explodes, making you see stars even when your eyes roll back inside of your head.
He wraps a hand around your mouth, presesing it tight over your face to muffle the feral scream that pours from you. You couldn't stop it if you tried, not if your life depended on it.
"That's it. That's fucking it, baby," he mutters a second before his own end comes to claim him, stealing all of the breath from his lungs and inspiring his body to move on it's own.
His hips cast into yours as his seed spills into your womb, filling you completely as you whine and readily accept it, pushing yourself up with what strength you have left in your body to thrust your hips back to meet his own, drawing out his pleasure as he draws out yours.
"Satoru," you breathe out, sighing in ecstasy and your body gives out, thumping onto the desk while his motions stutter and then still.
He drapes himself over you, kissing along the back of your neck to nip at your flesh, to have one last taste of you before he reluctantly parts his form from yours, slipping out of you and sending a sinful mixture of both of your essences dripping onto the floor.
"You are going to be the death of me," he murmurs into your ear, kising the side of your face.
"I could say the same," you sigh, eyes heavy and body seemingly lifeless as you try to will your legs to move, but it's useless with every neuron inside you still firing and him lazily draped across your back.
"At least we'll go together," he muses, his lips quirking into a smile as he nips your ear one last time, sending a shiver down your spine before he stands tall to tuck himself back into his pants.
You push yoursself up once you've recovered, tilting your head to one side as you look him over and hop up onto the desk.
"Eat it," you command cooly, looking him straight in his baby blue eyes that have reduced you to nothing time and time again.
"What?" He quirks a brow, looking you over.
"Eat your cum out of my cunt, Satoru," you demand again as you lay back on your elbows and part your legs, displaying the mixture of you and him trapped between your thighs, leaking out of you.
He looks down, eyes widening slightly before he flashes you that smirk that never fail to make your knees weak and sinks down to his own.
His hands come up to hold onto your thighs, fingers running aong your still sensitive skin as his breath fans your core before he dives in, ice blue eyes locked with yours.
You gasp, your hand flying into his snow white locks to tug gently as his eyes flutter and falls closed while he devours you. His tongue laps at your pussy, greedily tasting the concoction of your escapades.
"Fuck," he murmurs into you, sucking on your clit just to smirk when you whine.
He does as you bid him, tasting the salt of his own design and the sweetness of you, letting it bathe his tongue as he cleans you. Rids you of the evidence of the sin you both committed so willingly, but he doesn't stop.
He doesn't stop even as your fingers tighten in his hair, tugging harshly at the stark white tresses that have been turned wild by your touch. If anything, he laps more incessantly at your center, sending you careening off into an abyss that you haven't seen before. That you haven't had the intene pleasure of seeing until he brought you there and tosses you over that precipice.
You howl and he reaches up, clamping his hand down over your mouth as your hips grind desperately against his face. He groans against your folds before he wreches himself away to stand up and claim your mouth, as if he hadn't taken enough already.
You kiss him back, tasting yourself on his tongue as his slides against yours, exploring your mouth without shame, because that was left at the door when you two were together. There was no place for it.
The handle on the door jiggles, stirring both of you as your heads whip towards the door nearest the front of the room.
"Fuck," you hiss, trying to collect your senses as you push him off and stand up, adjusting your panties and your skirt.
"Fucking early birds," he mutters as he wipes his chin, staining the sleeve of his shirt with your juices.
You move to grab your bag and he follows you, his long legs allowing him to keep up even with your head start.
He catches your wrist and you find yourself bumping into his imposing frame. As lean as he looks, it's all muscle. All height, towering over you as he bends down, catching your jaw with his other hand as he kisses you again.
You get lost in it, the knocking on the door fades away as you savor his taste—your taste—again.
"I'll be seeing you, beautiful," he says softly, a dangerous glint in his eye as he gives your hand a squeeze and lets you go.
You flash him a smile and grab your things as you chew on your lip, making for the door towards the back as he heads for the one at the front.
With one last longing glance, the both of you turn the respective handles in your grasp and you slip out of the room, retreating into the hallway to carry on with your day, traces of him lingering on your skin. In your soul, where he now resides.
Tumblr media
thank you for reading! likes, reblog, and comments are all greatly appreciated ❤️
2K notes · View notes