Poll adventure (paventure? lol) Day 11: read the small story tidbit below the poll for more details, OR just vote based on initial impression
(✦ see past poll results + further information HERE (link) ✦)
Yesterday's poll decided that The Adventurer should curiously socialize with a few of the boat travelers ...
~
"The Adventurer grabs one of the ornate glass bowls near the buffet table, meekly gathering some cheese and vegetables as he scans the crowd. For the first 15 minutes of the lunch, he mostly crouches in a corner seat, nibbling on his food and nervously fielding the occasional drunken question from a passing party guest..
Knowing he should.. probably... actually socialize at some point, he begrudgingly chooses conversational partners, squeezing his eyes shut and pointing around randomly until he lands on someone.....
The first is a scrawny man in a flashy suit, wobbly from wine but still keeping a vaguely charming demeanor about him. He proudly introduces himself as a "legal expert", then goes on to ramble for a while about the laws in the area, how drastically they vary from city to city (plus a few veiled hints on how to safely break them), and that if you travel a lot it can be hard to keep up with it all.
He mentions, quite conveniently, that he's recently published a book on the topic, a legal guide for local explorers, and offers to give The Adventurer a copy for a special discounted price... but... then soon recalls that the crate of books he'd planned to sell on the boat sadly ended up falling into the river earlier during a "silly little mishap"..
In place of a book, he simply slides The Adventurer a glossy mint colored paper swirled with golden floral motifs, supposedly serving as some sort of business card, though the actual contact information seems obscured beneath the cluttered design. The Lawyer also pulls off his scarf as he rises to leave, wrapping it around The Adventurer's shoulders with a little waving flourish (not the first time someone has confused his anxious shaking for cold shivers). The Adventurer stutters out a confused thank you, then watches as the Lawyer stumbles off, mumbling to himself that he's been drinking too much and "truly must find somewhere to piss"......
The second person he approaches is an older woman, hunched over a table fidgeting with a handful of colorful glass dice, spinning and stacking and arranging them into patterns whilst her thoughts drift elsewhere. Initially, she gives evasive answers when asked personal questions, but soon grows more talkative once the topic of local flora and fauna arises. She apparently used to adventure as well, roaming the lands to document various elements of nature relevant to her mysterious "private research" - though, at her age, she's now resigned to casual boat rides rather than riskily hiking alone through uncharted wilderness. Gently laying a worn leather journal of watercolor paintings out onto the tabletop, she points at various berries, leaves, and animals, eagerly describing their significance...
After chatting for a while, she abruptly changes topics, mentioning that sometimes she can "sense things which she should not" (whatever the hell that means), then asks him to pick one of her dice. He hesitates, but she just stares, refusing to elaborate further.. Finding even 30 seconds of awkward silent eye contact physically impossible to bear, he hurriedly plops a finger down in front of an iridescent yellow die. She chuckles..
Scooping up all of the dice from the table, she rattles them in her clasped hands, then brings them up to her ear as if to listen... to something?? A few moments later, she turns back to him, speaking in a raspy whisper: "There are others, melding your footprints with their own, seeking a gift you do not yet know - this is what I see."
Before he can ask her for any elaboration, the Captain returns, grumbling that The Adventurer has already stayed 5 minutes past the time limit and swatting at him with a broom to shoo him off of the boat. Apparently an hour can go by fast....
After climbing back into his dinky raft, he sails mostly successfully down the river, finally making it to a point that, at least based on his map, SHOULD be where the main road picks back up past the detour. He crashes into a small grouping of rocks whilst trying to navigate back to the shore, but he was planning on disassembling the raft to get his rope and supplies back anyway, so.. aside from a scraped knee and possibly broken pinky toe, he decides it's actually fine. The cat is okay, which is all that really matters, anyhow.
By the time he's taken apart his boat, eaten a quick meal, and bandaged his leg, the sun seems to have nearly set. It's later in the night than he'd usually like to travel, but, where he's going is a pretty commonly used road, so maybe it's safe? He's exhausted from socializing, but could probably muster enough energy to walk for at least a while. Or perhaps he should just call it a night and find a place to sleep.. But.. where??? What should he do?
-
Additional information
acquired a long, warm, expensive scarf
acquired slightly increased knowledge of local plants
acquired vague information from the 'dice based fortune teller', or whatever that was meant to be
acquired a business card (+ ability to get away with one minor crime free of legal consequence)
acquired mild nausea for the next 5hrs from weird buffet cheese
acquired badly scraped knee and sprained toe (will walk slightly slower for the next 2 days)
the adventurer's current main goal: follow his map to reach the abandoned castle ruins and see the rare animal specialist about the mysterious egg he has
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The Truth In Your Skin - 4
The Tattoo Shop AU! If you want to read it from the beginning it’s on ao3. The fourth chapter is below. The whole fic is heavy angst and hurt/comfort with some serious past domestic violence issues (Quinn. It’s Quinn. It’s always Quinn.)
Darlin/David. Sweetheart/Milo. Asher/?
tags: hurt/comfort, angst, learning to trust, scars, found family, past domestic violence, trauma, slow burn, tattoos, piercings
The Truth In Your Skin - 4
Darlin felt better than they had in a year. Longer even. It felt good to work, to be back in a shop surrounded by the hum of machines and music. The crew wasn’t bad, and no one touched their station.
No one asked them any questions they didn’t want to answer, either. They could have looked them up, could have found out on their own, but Darlin didn’t think they had. David knew what city they’d lived in before—where they’d worked. Would it be hard to find records of what had happened? Maybe. It wasn’t exactly newsworthy when someone like them got the shit kicked out of them, let alone by their partner. Ugly but not surprising. Right? That was what they’d been told. What did they expect?
They flicked their tongue against the inside of their lip, looking for the metal that wasn’t there.
Whether the others knew or not, they didn’t ask. Not even the guy that did the piercings, Milo. He’d taken one long look at Darlin’s lip scar before meeting their gaze again that first day and then pretended he didn’t know how that happened.
Darlin was grateful. The more time that passed, things settled into a new normal. It actually felt like they could move forward. They’d gone to that holiday party and it was nice.
Their station was across from David’s near the back of the main room. They caught him watching them work sometimes. Fair. It was his shop, after all. He’d have to make sure they weren’t doing a shit job.
Asher had the spot near the door. He was loud but never in a bad way. He only stopped talking when someone else did. His clients seemed to get a whole experience out of sitting in his chair, most loath to leave even when the work was done. And when his chair was empty, he’d come over and start talking up Darlin’s or David’s clients.
Through the archway, there were two more stations. Milo did the piercings and Sweetheart specialized in new school tattoos. They were still pretending not to be a couple.
The day was slow and well past lunch.
Asher flopped down in Darlin’s chair and stretched out until his tank top hiked up his stomach. “You busy?” he asked, hands under his mess of hair.
Darlin raised an eyebrow. They’d just cleaned their station. He knew it, because he had been in the same room all day. “Super busy,” they lied. They didn’t have anyone else lined up today. He knew that too because he handled the schedules in the mornings.
Asher had two thin rings in the side of his eyebrow, a bridge between his eyes, a stud under his bottom lip and another in his tongue. Somehow, he still pouted like a puppy. “I’m bored. Tattoo me?”
David snorted in the space across from them. He had a client laid out on their chest, shirt off and arms pillowed under their cheek. Their headphones were so loud they could almost hear the music over the beat of the shop speakers.
Darlin blinked at Asher. “Are you serious?”
Asher lit up. “Yeah!” He sat up and pulled his shirt off. He tossed it vaguely in the direction of his own chair, landing on the floor in the middle of the room instead. “Front or back?” He started searching himself for a spot.
Darlin pressed back a smile. “What do you want?”
Asher was still considering real estate. “Doesn’t matter. Anything that’s yours.”
Darlin might have doubted that and pressed for him to make a choice but looking at the assortment of random work on his body, they realized he meant it. He was a collector. They shrugged and started setting up.
“You don’t have to,” David reminded in a grumble.
Darlin nodded but put on the black gloves. “You sure you can sit still?” they asked Asher.
Asher laughed and stretched one arm up, hooking it under his head and offering them a patch of untattooed skin just under his ribs.
“Want to pick a color?” Darlin asked.
Asher settled in, his new position allowing him to watch David. “Nope. You pick.”
Darlin huffed but got to work, already forming an idea.
Asher didn’t squirm at all when the needle finally hit skin. He didn’t even miss a beat in conversation with David. Milo walked a client out and then came over to see what was going on. He turned his head to get a better look at the developing tattoo just as Darlin swiped away inky and blood. Milo smiled when he saw the round little bird in black lines that Darlin was currently adding a splash of neon yellow to. It would come out looking like watercolor stroked over a sketch.
The bell on the front door in the lobby chimed. “Got it,” Milo said, nodding and stepping back. He slid his hands into his pockets and walked to the reception.
“Almost done,” Darlin said.
Asher hadn’t looked yet. “You’re coming out with us after work, right?”
The shop was closed Sundays and Mondays and Asher liked to get everyone together on Saturday nights after locking up. Darlin had said no all the times before that holiday party and they’d bounced back and forth in their head since about what to do the next time. Go or don’t go? “Yeah. Sure.”
Asher beamed.
Darlin was just finishing up when the voices from the front room carried in, Milo leading a couple of people back with him. They were talking about a piercing. One of the two was taking the plunge and getting another one on impulse.
Darlin’s heart beat faster but they weren’t sure why at first—not until one of those voices pitched over the other to shout, “Holy shit! I remember you! From—”
Darlin had just put the needle down when the words struck them. The woman was talking to them. She remembered them. Her steps sounded impossibly loud as she came closer.
“Misfit!” she shouted the name she remembered.
Darlin winced. That wasn’t their name. It was just how he’d introduced them to people and it had stuck. “You’re not a Darlin. Anyone can see that.”
“Hell, I haven’t seen you in years!” She leaned against the back of the chair Asher was in.
Darlin’s brain felt like it was on overload, sounds and colors and light all coming in too fast and too hard.
“How have you been? What are you doing out here? Is Quinn here?” His name sounded like the thud of their forehead against the floor, a headache slicing through their temple. The woman looked around like he might be there in the shop, her smile huge and her teeth bright. Quinn’s teeth had been bright too, slick with red.
Darlin’s chest hurt and they fought the impulse to look around too, for one blinding second terrified that he might be there.
-
David had finished up with his client and started cleaning up his space. He had been sneaking peeks at Darlin’s work on Asher, not quite ready to process the pang of jealousy he felt. Maybe he just really wanted a tattoo from them too?
And then Milo returned with a couple of clients and everything changed. All of the ease that had built in Darlin vanished in a flash, their body went tight and their chin dropped to their chest. David was close enough and at an angle to see the way their eyes blanked out, like they’d fucking left their body.
“Back up,” Asher said, voice suddenly far from the light, humorous notes that usually filled the shop. He had sat up in his seat, physically putting himself between Darlin and the stranger.
The stranger jumped back, surprised. Offense warred with anger on her expression, gaze flicking between Asher and Darlin and then back to her friend standing with Milo.
Milo was quick to smooth things over, herding the two clients toward his station in the other room.
The woman went but spoke louder to make up for the distance.
“What the fuck is their problem? Do you think they broke up? It would explain what they’re doing here, but why be so dramatic about it?”
“Did you see their lip though? You don’t think Quinn did that do you?”
“No way. He’s so fucking hot. Why was he even with them? They probably just broke up.”
“Riley said Quinn was in jail…”
“Oh my god!”
Asher flicked his gaze between David and Darlin, asking without words what to do. Darlin was shaking, breaths tight like they were trying not to hyperventilate by taking in as little air as possible. They pushed themselves through the motions of putting away their equipment and taking out the gel and plastic wrap to finish Asher’s tattoo. Both men finally snapped, surging forward. Asher took the antibiotic gel and plastic wrap out of their hands and David gently caught their elbow, pulling them to their feet.
“I’ll clean up and close the shop when they’re done,” Asher said.
David steered Darlin toward the back door, grabbing their jackets off the wall on the way. They didn’t fight him at all and that was somehow just as worrying as the look on their face had been. He had never put hands on Darlin before, not in all the weeks they’d been working there. Darlin wasn’t touchy and he hadn’t missed how they always seemed to keep themselves out of arms reach if possible.
They almost tripped over their own boots when he guided them through the heavy door and out onto the sidewalk along the back of the building. He caught their side to keep them up and they jerked at that contact, like they were injured. It seemed to jar them back to life though, their breath deeper and their gaze flicking around the snow dusted parking lot. “Fuck,” they exhaled.
David handed them their jacket.
They looked at it, wincing before nodding and taking it. “I’ll come back for my shit on Tuesday…” They barely got the words out, voice raw.
“What?” David hadn’t known what to expect from them, but this was definitely not on his list.
Darlin pulled their jacket on, backpedaling a wobbly step away from him. Their head was still down, chin to their chest and hair in their face.
“You’re not fired,” David ground out, pulling his jacket on too but not taking his eyes off them in case their legs gave out. “You looked like you were about to have a panic attack.”
“Sorry,” Darlin muttered, swallowing hard.
David shook his head. He didn’t want an apology. They hadn’t done anything wrong. “You’re okay.”
They looked up at him, surprise so clear across their face. They straightened slowly, seeming to finally fully remember themselves again. “I’m sorry about that… I don’t know why I… It was unprofessional and—”
“Fuck that. And fuck them.”
Darlin blinked, shoulders easing down.
“You’re great at your art and you’re easy to work with. I’d have to be an idiot to fire you even if you’d told them where to shove their questions. You don’t owe them shit and you don’t owe us anything more than exactly what you give.”
Darlin stared, breath finally coming out in a long, easy exhale.
“You’re okay,” he said again. He wanted them to believe it, because fuck he wanted to make it true.
Darlin nodded slowly, like they were trying to.
They stood there together for a while on the cold sidewalk before David finally huffed a thin laugh. “You got me out of closing.”
Darlin smirked. “You’re welcome.”
David flicked his lip ring thoughtfully before asking. “Do you want to come up? We’ve got beer and we can order pizza when the rest of them are off.”
Darlin watched him, their gaze cutting toward the entrance to the apartments that were over the shops.
He’d invited them every weekend to whatever they were doing but Darlin had never taken this long to consider it. He hoped they didn’t think they were obligated. He’d meant it when he said they didn’t owe him anything but the good work they did.
Darlin nodded, hands in their pockets. “Yeah. Sounds good.”
David didn’t make a big deal of it, just nodded and led the way to the door. He’d text Asher when they were upstairs to let him know they were staying in tonight—so he could tell Milo and Sweetheart too.
-
It was the longest piercing of Milo’s life.
They were on their phones, looking up Darlin and this guy, Quinn. They exchanged an endless stream of information as they gathered it, pausing on occasion to turn big eyes to him and ask if he knew.
He hadn’t.
He had seen that scar on their lip and known something, but he hadn’t looked them up. None of them had. It wasn’t something they’d discussed or anything, it just hadn’t seemed right. If Darlin wanted to tell them what had happened, maybe they would someday.
But now he knew.
The details were spotty, a domestic violence charge. And then they’d talked to a friend of a friend who had more information…and photos. They groaned at the images and Milo tried not to see them. “They’re saying he actually pulled the ring out! Oh my god, look at those stitches! Why is their face swollen like that?”
Milo saw the photo. He didn’t mean to. Didn’t want to. Their face was swollen like that because someone had beat the shit out of them. There were stitches in their hairline too, and their cheek where another scar now lived.
If he hadn’t already done the piercing by that point, he would have kicked them out. He shouldn’t have brought them back at all after the way Darlin had looked. Was it a betrayal?
“I just can’t believe it. There are always two sides to a story. It’s not like Misfit is a sweetheart. It was probably complicated. Quinn was just so much fun. There’s no way.” His hands shook. He felt Sweetheart watching the whole time from their station across from him. They hadn’t said a word—hadn’t moved—but he felt their eyes on him all the time. It was grounding and comforting, but at the same time added to the mounting unrest.
He was relieved when he walked them back to the lobby and Darlin was gone. Asher was cleaning up their station—uncharacteristically quiet. Had he heard everything? How could he not?
Milo took payment and tip in a haze. He didn’t care if they underpaid. He didn’t care if they paid at all. He wanted them out.
As soon as the door closed, he rounded the counter and threw the lock, slapping the light switch for the front of the shop.
“Babe?” Asher asked, voice low with worry. “You okay?”
Milo wanted to laugh. Of course, he was okay. He wasn’t the one who had someone put them in the hospital. He dragged his hands through his hair and used one of the ties on his wrist to knot it. He nodded, jaw tight.
Asher looked like he understood, nodding back. “David took them outside. We’ll close up.” Asher’s phone plinged in his pocket and he reached down and pulled it out. He was still shirtless, his side shiny where he’d slicked it with gel and stretched plastic wrap over it. His expression lightened with surprised. “They’re upstairs.”
“What?”
“We’re doing beers and pizza at our place. Darlin’s hanging out too.”
Milo’s stomach twisted, thinking of that photo and the flood of gossip mixed with news.
“Want me to say you can’t come? I can make up a reason—” Asher offered.
“No,” Milo said just as quickly, shaking his head. “Fuck no.” He’d been hoping they could get Darlin out of their shell and hanging out with them. Did knowing change that? Absolutely not. And if he bailed, they might think it was with intent. He was already worried he’d crossed some line by working on that person.
He walked through the quiet studio, back to the room with his station. Sweetheart was still standing there, tattooed arms folded tightly against their chest and eyes on him—always on him. That stare was softer now, as soft as Sweetheart could get anyway. “Milo…”
He set his jaw and shook his head. He was fine. He had no right not to be fine. Nothing had fucking happened to him. He went to his station to clean up but then their hand was on his arm. He stopped.
“You’re not him,” they said, a whisper just between them.
Milo cringed. Who did they mean? The newly mentioned Quinn? Or his dad? Because right now he really wanted to hit someone. His hands were curled so tightly that his knuckles ached.
Their fingers hooked around the back of his neck, pulling until his head met theirs. He felt their eyes on him, intense as ever. “Wanting to protect people is different than wanting to hurt people.”
He wasn’t sure right then. He really wanted to hurt someone. Someone he’d never even met. He closed his eyes but it only made that picture of Darlin all fucked up and dazed from that stranger’s phone clearer in his memory.
Sweetheart scratched the back of his neck gently, trying to distract him. “Stop it.”
He dragged a breath and let it out, nodding. Whatever that was, what he’d heard them talking about, that was in the past. There was nothing to do about it now but keep an eye out for Darlin in the future. He winced again. How much of that shit had they overheard? Would they close off even more now that the rest of them knew something about their past? No. They’d finally agreed to hang out with the group tonight.
That was good. That was really good.
“Thanks, Sweetheart,” he said, wrapping both arms around them and hugging them tightly. He pushed his face into their neck and breathed them in. “If anyone ever hit you…” he mumbled, hating even the words.
Sweetheart laughed darkly, giving his hair a little tug. “I’d bury ‘em before you even got the chance.”
He sighed. They said that because they didn’t know what it was like to have someone you loved turn on you like that. He was glad for it. It was fierce and beautiful and he hoped they’d never lose that. As long as he was there, they wouldn’t.
“Are you two cleaning or fucking?” Asher called from the front room. “Because I’m about done out here…”
Sweetheart unraveled from Milo and turned toward the doorway. They started making loud sex sounds.
Milo bit back a laugh and finished cleaning his station while Sweetheart gyrated, calling out Asher’s name in a mock orgasm.
Asher came to lean in the doorway, one pierced eyebrow raised at the scene. “Nice, Sweets…” he said, tone flat with sarcasm but a little smirk pulling at his lip. “At least now I know what you’d sound like if I ever fucked you.”
Sweetheart put their hands on their hips, staring back at him. “And?”
He shrugged.
Sweetheart faked offense, hand flying to their heart. “What? What else could you want, Ash? I’m fucking amazing!”
He shrugged again, smirk back, and walked away to start shutting off the lights.
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Can I Fill You Up, Baby?
Synopsis. There’s no way he had a breéding kink, right? That was before he was balls-deep in you, cúmming in you for the third time in a row now.
Pairing. Multiple x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected, lots of cúm, overstim, multiple rounds, mating press, breeding, pet names (my girl), swearing.
Word count. 1.5k
A/N. DON’T LOOK AT MEEEE.
Boys who didn’t know they have a breeding kink.
Pfft, seriously? Those were straight out of hentai, he’d roll his eyes as his friends tittered about it. “Next thing you’ll tell me is that tentacle monsters are totally legit, too.”
Because he didn’t have a breeding kink, right?
Well, at least he didn’t think so…but right now, with you sprawled underneath him, eyes half-lidded, and dripping cunt sucking his cock in so deliciously - he thinks the idea might not be too far-fetched after all.
Ripping off what remained of your top, lips searing against your skin as he bit down hard - marking you. You were so fucking aroused, pretty pussy pooling and forming debauched little strings of slick that connect you to his heavy balls. Throaty, desperate little grunts leaving him each time they slap against your skin, in time with the tight, little circles he drew on your throbbing clit.
A quick, maddening tempo he was losing his mind to.
Right now, he was absolutely feral where he was usually suave in sex. For some reason, that image of you babysitting your friend’s kid earlier today burns into his mind, jolting some raw, carnal part of him awake as he keeps ramming his cock into your snug cunt. Over and over. Purposefully and sinfully.
Ah, how lovely you would look so round and glowing with his kid. You’d look so pretty carrying his seed. The swell of your belly just because of him - all him.
“Baby…” he starts, voice hoarse with need. At your answering mewl, writhing beneath him, he continues, words that come straight from his throbbing erection. “Can I fill you up? Lemme fill you up. Please, my girl.”
“Ah! Hah- yes. Yes yes yes, please. Cum in me baby, fill me up.” Raw, pleading whines leave your bruised lips. Drool already dripping down the corner of your mouth at how deliciously filthy he was fucking you.
Body trembling, a shiver runs down your spine as you watch his pupils dilate, cock twitching so animalistically inside you at your words. Thrusts increasing impossibly, his thumb was now frenzied on your clit, desperately chasing both your highs.
Now, you’ve heard of orgasms that sneak up on you. Silent, powerful waves that leave you speechless. And before you know it, you’re creaming around his thick cock. Stars behind your eyes and a breathless whisper of his name leaving your swollen lips.
Seeing you so debauched underneath him sends him over the edge as well, his own release exploding into your awaiting pussy. Filling you up. Hips never slowing down, pumping hot ropes of cum into you animalistically. Your walls flutter around him, as if desperately trying to suck his big cock back in with each thrust.
Yet, your moans turn into sensitive gasps at the way your loving boyfriend still doesn’t show any signs of stopping - even as your jolts of pleasure turn into nothing but mere tingles. Thighs clenching around his toned waist, a question.
“Shhh, don’t worry, pretty girl. One more, you gotta do is take it.”
And he’s pushing in again, swollen tip hot and still hard and hot against your sloppy entrance. Both of you hissing at the overstimulation. Oh. Oh, shit.
“Hngh- you’re-” God. Looking up into those darkened eyes, something carnal glinting dangerously in them - only one thought rings in your head, going straight down to your dripping cunt - you’d be lucky to make out of this in one piece.
You can do nothing but lay there and take it as large hands spread your legs even more shamefully. His cum warm and dribbling out of you, fully exposed to his hungry gaze. Body jerking as he manhandles your legs onto his sculpted shoulders. Folding you in half, pressing down down down-
A mating press. A fucking mating press.
Scratch that, you’d be lucky to make it out of this alive.
He doesn’t waste time.
Splitting you open on his thick cock immediately, pushing back into your tight walls. Head thrown back and eyes rolling to the back of his head so pornographically at the way your cunt flutters around him - wetter and sloppier than before with his cum, struggling to take him again. Warm - so warm with his seed.
God, he has to fight down some feral, animalistic part of him that wants to just plunge into you till his twitching balls smack your ass. Not even waiting for you to adjust.
But no. No, he must be careful with the mother of his children - treat you like fine porcelain. Just as soon as he breaks you like one right now.
Fuck.
One, harsh thrust. His achingly hard cock splitting you open, pushing against the heady combination of resistance and your walls milking him to insanity. Sweaty forehead meeting yours, he can’t decide between the sinful sight of your cunt clenching around his length and the way your swollen, kiss-bitten lips fall into such a pretty oh!
“Oh- hah! Baby, please. Don’t hold back.”
Not that he was going to anyway. “Then take it like a good girl while I breed you, my lil’ slut.” his voice low and husky, making your cunt clamp down in anticipation.
And before you know it, his tight balls are flush against your ass, thick head kissing your cervix so painfully good. Hips rearing back - back back back, pulsing veins massaging your walls as he pulls out till his furiously flushed tip is just teasing your entrance. Only to slam back into you with one rough thrust, with little regard for your poor, abused cunt.
The bed creaks in protest as he starts up a merciless pace, not taking the time to ease it in for either of you. Throbbing cock sliding in and out of your dripping cunt in rough, purposeful strokes that have you gripping the headboard for stability.
Your cunt stings in both overstimulation and the way his tight balls smack against you at his unforgiving pace, strings of slick and cum connecting you to each other. “Hah- oh. So good, pussy sucking me dry so good Hngh-” he gasps out over the lewd slapping of skin on skin, mouth moving before his mind does.
Ass burning at the friction of his pelvis. Cum leaking out of you to pool beneath you. It was so fucking debauched. He was absolutely too far gone. Completely set on filling you till you explode.
“Oh, fuck. Gonna cum. Gonna fill you up again, my pretty girl- hngh-”
You whine at the pain and pleasure, far too cock-drunk to form any coherent sentences, body arching up for more more more-
You both cum with a raw, fucked-out whimper. Your walls stretch painfully as it tries to accommodate both his fat cock and another spurt of his cum. Tears stinging your eyes at the sensitivity, all you know is a burst of pleasure and the realization of how absolutely full you are of his seed.
It leaks out of you, seeping into your skin and you can almost feel it sloshing inside of your snug cunt. Mind hazy and vision blurring at this point. Yet, he still doesn’t stop.
You’re probably sobbing at this point - you don’t even know. Completely drunk on you and the idea of breeding you and you-
“One more, my girl. One more. Gotta make sure it takes.”
Raw, absolutely feral empty promises ring in your ears as he keeps moving inside you. Sensitively twitching cock dragging so maddeningly against your walls. Letting out raspy whimpers with each thrust, now nothing more than shallow, mindless movements fueled by pure animalistic need.
Fuck, ah, you were gonna fucking pass out.
“Hah- Baby, I can’t- oh-”
“You will.”
You squeal as your thighs clench around him, clit pulsing in pain and pleasure as he reaches down to start his rough abuse on it again. A final thrust. Only one press on your clit. Hard.
Your orgasm - if you can even call it that, nothing more than a distinct spike of pleasure - hits you with a jolt. Moaning and bowing into his weeping cock as you ride your highs out together. His poor, abused cock coating your walls white once more in thin, hot spurts. It overflows inside of you, cunt dripping and too full to take any more.
Maybe you black out, you don’t even know. Only brought back by the tear that hits your cheek with a wet splash! - blinking away the haze in your eyes to look up at your overstimulated boyfriend. His throbbing cock now shooting blanks inside of you.
Breaths ragged, blood roaring in your ears, you feel a sudden emptiness as he pulls out. A disappointed whine leaving you despite your state. Cum gushing out of you, forming a pool on the already-soaked bedsheets. Warm and so fucking sinful.
Pulling back to admire the view, his eyes widen, jaw dropping slightly at the heavenly sight. Greedy eyes locked on you and your pussy and you - blood rushing straight to his twitching cock. Reproachfully, you look up to meet his eyes, pupils blown and half-lidded, an insane glint in them that jolts you to your very core - and your abused cunt.
One thing was sure.
There’s no turning back.
- GOJO, CHOSO, Nanami, OIKAWA, Suna, KUROO, ATSUMU, EREN
A/N. Goals amirite?
Plagiarism not authorized.
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