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heartless-tate · 2 months

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Notice Me! | Part two | Azriel X Freader

Azriel x Freader | Part one

Summary: Azriel courting oblivi reader

a/n; Heyy! This is the last part guys! Hope you enjoy 🤗 also I really recommend looking up the meaning of the flowers after you read. 💕

content/trigger warnings; food, cussing, kissing, one or two use y/n, no smut BUT some lust and hints to masturbation, Azriel pining, Cassian being sassy, FEM reader (if you’d like me to make a another post with male reader, message me!) she/her pronouns for reader, rain mention and I think that’s it. If I missed something, feel free to message me on it!💗

You are in a warm bath, infused with the scent of essential oils, a perfect remedy to the grime from your training. You shake the thought out of your head, cursing yourself. Azriel didn’t like you like that. Cassian kisses Feyre on the cheek all the time, so why did it mean anything different if he kissed you? It didn’t mean anything different. But still, ever since he had left for his mission you found yourself running your fingers over your cheek.

It felt as though your skin was ablaze, heat gathering in your thighs. You abruptly reached towards them, water splashing. Halting yourself, you felt a surge of guilt and shame. If Azriel knew what you were thinking, he'd avoid your gaze forever. The thought made you feel sick. You groaned aloud, resting your head against the edge of the tub. You longed for him, missed his enticing cooking and physique. No, just his cooking. You chastised yourself again. Bad thoughts!

Goosebumps arose on your skin. The water had become ice cold. You rose from the water, letting the air chill your skin. Your nipples hardened, and you wondered if it was from your imagination or the cold air. You quickly leaped from the tub, landing on the mat. You wrapped your towel around your body after drying your wet hair.

Your bare feet padded against the floor as you walked out of the bathroom, letting the house magic take care of the leftover water. Your room felt warmer upon entering, soothing you. The room smelt like musk and bourbon. Like Azriel almost. You shivered with delight, stepping to your vanity. You reached for your hair brush, looking into the mirror only to be met with horror.

You yelped in shock, turning to face the shadowsinger. He sat on your bed, holding one of your books. His wings were spread lazily on your covers. He huffed a laugh at your reaction, grinning. “That’s certainly not the welcoming I was expecting.” He concurred smugly.

“Azriel..” You muttered. He was early. And you hadn’t expected him to be here. “How long have you been back?” you asked. He smiled.

“I’ve been here for fifteen minutes waiting for you to get out of,” he paused, his eyes trailing down to your body, “your bath..”

You felt your face heat, suddenly realizing you wore nothing but a small towel. Your body was glistening wet. He looked you back in the eyes with a small smirk.

“Oh cauldron!” You squeaked, wrapping your arms around your body more tightly. He laughed, heartily. Azriel shook his head before standing. He laid your book down and with embarrassment you realized it was one of your more smuttier books. And by that you mean it was pure porn. There was nothing more embarrassing about this situation. He smirked at you again, before taking a few steps towards you. You notice there are fresh flowers on your nightstand now. It was a bouquet of red and pink flowers you hadn't seen before. You’d have to look them up in your flower guide.

“I have a training session where I plan on beating Cas’s ass, but I wanted to see you first. We’ll have lunch in around two hours, okay?” He demanded gently. You nodded shyly, unable to think of a coherent response. He smiled, pleased. He walked forward, and you hoped he would kiss you again. Just not on the cheek. But alas, he pulled you in a hug, his warm muscly body a hard contrast to your cold one. Your right hand held your towel in place, while your left wrapped around him. He shivered, and you figured it was due to your wet hair?

Azriel let go quickly and abruptly and you wondered if you did something wrong. He smiled tightly. “See you in two hours, love.” He whispered affectionately before turning and taking flight from your balcony.

He left you standing there, wet all over, confused, warm, and also shivering. You still couldn’t wrap your head around this feeling you had.

After you changed into a tank top and shorts you approached the flowers on your nightstand. They were gorgeous. You bit your lip as you grabbed a flower guide book, ready to find what type of flowers they were.

They were pink bluebells and red chrysanthemums.

A beautiful sandwich filled with all your favorite toppings, sat in front of you. Courtesy to Azriel. You sighed, wondering if you’d ever be as good as a cook Azriel was. It was truly a hidden talent of his. There wasn’t something he couldn’t fix.

A warm leathery wing brushed on your bare shoulder as he passed by. He sat his food down beside yours before pulling out a chair and setting it directly by yours. It was now lunch time. Both Cassian and Azriel were sweaty muscly messes. Their skin glistened with pure sweat. And you wondered how Azriel still managed to smell like a god still. After you left your room, you spent some time enjoying the morning breeze and relaxing. When it came time for lunch, you walked to the dining area. Azriel was waiting for you in the kitchen where he made your sandwich and a drink for you. Every detail of it was to your liking.

Cassian, of course, stood in the corner complaining about Azriel never fixing him sandwiches. Azriel had knocked him in the face with his wing, shutting him up. Cassian stayed in the kitchen, munching on some snacks. He feigned not paying attention to you nor Azriel.

Both of your chairs were back less, as to accommodate for wings. Sure, your skin felt a little chilly in the air due to your tank top. But Azriel’s wing, warm from training in the sun, stayed on your back. It was comforting. Like a blanket that's been sitting by a cozy fireplace.

Azriel pushed the plate towards you again, motioning for you to start eating. When you started, and he was sure you were satisfied with the taste, he started eating his too. And, of course, everything tasted perfect. When you both finished, the house took care of the plates. Cassian and Nesta had joined at the other end of the table, talking to each other as they ate. You caught yourself admiring them- the love they had. That you felt you would never have. They bickered, sure. But they were so in love. You couldn’t help but envy them. If only a guy loved you like that.

Your thoughts broke when Azriel started talking. He had a soft smile as he told you of his mission. Apparently the queens were doing okay and hadn’t been stirring up trouble, so he was able to leave early.

“You didn’t starve while I was away did you? Next time I’ll drag you with me so I can actually focus on my mission.” He muttered running his hands through his hair. Azriel always spoke softly unless angry. Or at least you had never heard him get loud. You didn’t catch Cassian and Nesta smirking at you both. Nesta couldn’t help but snort to herself. You were so oblivious. You didn’t even seem to notice Azriel only ran his mouth like this when around you. He seemed so open with you and comfortable.

“Of course I didn’t starve- wait, why couldn’t you focus on your mission?” You inquired, confused.

“Ah- No reason, dear.” He responded. His pet name went over your head. Azriel bit his lower lip, staring at you with intent eyes. He couldn’t help but feel amused by your blatant obliviousness. Your eyes went to where Cassian sat across from you with his eyes closed, kissing and smacking his lips, like he was making out with the air. Your eyebrows furrowed at the weirdness until he stopped and pointed at Azriel, then you. Nesta slapped him and he realized he had been caught. You were about to question his weird antics before a wing blocked your sight towards them.

You turned to where Azriel had gotten closer. He used his wing to make sure ALL of your attention was on him.“I have to go meet with Rhys soon. But when I get back, we need to talk.” He said sternly. His eyes were hardened and your face dropped. Did you do something wrong? He noticed the look and smiled softly to reassure you.

“Wait for me here?” He asked. And you nodded, still nervous. Your hands came together to fiddle awkwardly but Azriel’s hands laid on top of yours. He lifted your hands and kissed the top of both of them. You blushed at the intimacy. He lifted his head, and ran a hand through his hair.

He stood, still holding your hand with one of his. The room had gone quiet. Like it was just you and him. He leaned forward and kissed your forehead. You felt the heat and softness of his lips as they pressed to your head. Your bottom lip quivered as you looked shyly to the floor. What was happening? You didn’t even know anymore. Your body didn’t feel like it was yours anymore.

He stood and winked at you playfully before heading to the balcony and once again spreading those giant wings and shooting into the air. You sighed to yourself before realizing that Cassian and Nesta were both staring at you. Cassian sighed and looked to Nesta.

“I’ll bet you 80 gold coins-“ he started, but Nesta slapped a hand on his mouth so he couldn’t finish. She smiled at you before grabbing Cassian and leaving you alone in the room, deep in your thoughts.

Rhysand’s office was warmer then the rest of his house today. Azriel was filling him in on his recent mission. And to his distaste, that meant he had to be away from you. He didn't care that he’d be back within a few hours, he had already suffered during his mission. Being away from you- not being able to smell you on his clothes anymore, distressed him more then he cared to admit. He remembers worrying if you had ate, or if you forgot to eat again. His wings bristled at the memory. Upon coming back to you, he couldn't be bothered to care you had just got out of the bath. He thanked the Mother for blessing him with such good timing. You were so god damn beautiful, and if that towel had dropped- Azriel wouldn’t have left that room for a good fucking long while.

He had been too excited to even care that you were wet and only in a towel, he just had to hug you. But he didn't expect to feel his cock stiffen. He couldn’t help it, your body in his arms felt so good. You were so fucking pretty, it hurt. Azriel was embarrassed that he lost control of his own body. He planned on holding you for longer, but when your hand wrapped around his back, it brushed that sensitive part of his wing, sending a jolt to his dick. He had to rip away before you felt the growing hardness in his pants, and he felt so bad seeing your face of confusion. You hadn’t meant too. And you looked so hurt and you didn't even know what your had done. He cursed his body hating his lack of control, but didn't want you to think he was a creep so he left early to take care of himself.

“Az? Are you listening?”

Azriel snapped out of his thoughts and turned back to where his brother sat. Rhysand sighed and shook his head before repeating himself.

“I was asking if you could run to Velaris and pick up some medicine from Madja? Feyre has been having some headaches.”

Azriel’s eyebrows furrowed and he contemplated. Of course, he loved his high lady and didn’t want her to be in pain. But he wanted to get back to you fast. He needed your presence. Soon. Before he lost his mind. “Can’t you just winnow yourself? It’d be a lot faster then me having to fly.” He proposed.

Rhysand bristled slightly at Azriel’s slight coldness. He knew his brother, and knew he didn't mean it personally. Rhysand smirked. “Cassian warned me of this.”

“Warned you of what?” Azriel asked. ”He told me you get extremely pissy whenever you’ve been away from her for too long.” Rhysand spoke, with a knowing smile.

Azriel knew he was talking of you. His eyebrows furrowed and scowled at his brother before huffing. Before he could reply Rhys continued.

“It’s alright, we get it. Cas and I have both been through it with our mates.” Azriel didn’t respond this time. He shook his head with a slight growl. How come everyone could see his affection for you- but you? It was infuriating! He hoped maybe kissing your cheek would make you magically realize he had loved you, but it didn’t. Cauldron! How much more obvious does he need to make it?

Rhys dismissed him with his signature smirk, the all knowing bastard too smug for Azriel’s liking tonight.

Azriel wasn’t back yet. And the sun had already set, leaving it dark outside. You wondered what was taking him so long to tell Rhys of his mission. In reality you were more worried of what he wanted to talk about. You currently sat by the fireplace in your room, letting the heat warm your body. You had left the balcony doors open, assuming Azriel would fly through there.

You had two candles burning, and a book open in your hands. The sound of pitter patter against the marble floors distracted you from your book. You turned your head to the balcony doors and sighed, seeing it was raining. the water was getting on your floor. You grabbed a towel from the bathroom, and wiped the water from the floor. You closed the door to the balcony, but leaving it unlocked for him.

You turned around, noticing the flowers. You smiled joyfully. It was nice always having a pair of fresh flowers, thanks to Azriel.

“Pay more attention.”

You remembered Mor’s words. What were you suppose to pay attention to? You had already dissected every single memory you had of Azriel, but you coulnd’t find anything in your mind that was out of the ordinary. You sighed, rubbing your temples. Nothing made sense anymore. You ran a hand through your hair, stressed.

You looked around the room before your eyes found the flowers again. You remembered Azriel giving you a book that had the meanings flowers last Starfall. Your eyes snapped to the floating bookshelf Azriel has installed in your room two years ago. You quickly approached it, running your fingers across the titles until you found the right one. You pulled the book out, grazing the cover with your fingertips.

You sat by the fireplace, flipping through until you found the flowers you were looking for.

A whooshing sound came from your balcony, prompting you to close the book and stand, walking to your nightstand and laying it down. You turned to the door of the balcony, watching it open. Azriel stepped in, hair wet from rain. Water dripped from his body onto your floor. He wanted slightly eyes latching onto yours. He held a small pink box that he had managed to keep dry. You briefly wondered what it was until he started to walk towards you. Determination was in his eyes as he walked fast, in front of you within seconds. He licked his lips, looking at your eyes.

Everything froze, and it was just you and him. Standing there. His eyes were dilated and filled with affection now. You didn’t notice him setting the box on your nightstand, never breaking eye contact. His eyes flicked down to your lips, before looking back up. You felt the tension in the room. His eyes seemed to glow more tonight. Brighter than the fire.

You looked back to where the flowers were and then back back to him.

“Why did you give me pink bluebells and red chrysanthemums?” You asked, you voice barely above a whisper.

Azriel cocked his head to the side, studying you. His shadows whirl around, some coming to play with your hair. The tendrils swirl gently around you.

“Why do you think I gave them to you?” He responded. His voice was roughed, but gentle. You looked away to the floor and shrugged, feeling shy under his unwavering stare.

“Answer me.”

You felt a hand on your chin, turning your face back to his. His thumb rubbed mindlessly at your jaw.

“I don’t know..” You replied. He was closer now, you could feel his breath against your face. It was minty and fresh.

“Fucking hell y/n.” He groaned, grabbing your hips and gently pushing you to sit on the edge of the bed. He dropped to his knees in front of you, head bowed. He looked as if he was saying a prayer, his head bowed in your lap. His wings were draped across the floor, and he was muttering something to himself. He held your knees, and when he looked back up to you his eyes were teary.

“Azriel-“ you started, only for him to cut you off.

“What am I doing wrong? Have I not made it painfully clear? I would tie my wings behind my back and jump off this roof if you asked me too. I would do anything,” He sniffled, “anything for you. But you don’t even realize. What am I doing wrong?” You saw tears beginning to form in his eyes. Confusion filled every ounce of your soul. What did he mean?

“I would jump off for you too-“

“No! You don’t get it!” He rose, cupping your face with his hands. A pleading look was in his eyes. “Look at me! Don’t you feel it? Don’t you feel it here?” His hand came to lay where your heart would be. Your felt it beating crazily. What did he mean?

Azriel closed his eyes, sending a silent prayer to the mother. He opened them again.

“Just notice it y/n. Notice it- Notice me. Please..” he whispered. You wanted to scream you loved him suddenly, but he probably doesn’t mean this like that. This is probably some dumb prank he and his brothers came up with again.

His forehead rested against yours now, and you gasped as you felt something tugging on your heart. Like gold threads weaving together. It felt as if someone had tied Azriel to you. Shadows whirled crazily around you both now. Your hand came to rest over his trying to decipher this feeling in your heart. His eyes peered into yours. And he closed them as he moved his head and pressed a small kiss to your forehead.

“I love you, even if you don’t return it.” He croaked, defeatedly. His eyes opened and watched you. He watched as your eyebrows furrowed and you looked at your chest and then back to him.

He let out a grunt of surprise when you smashed your lips against his. Azriel wondered if this was real. Staying still, as if not to scare you away. When he realized it was real- and you were kissing him he melted. He kissed you back gently and meaningful. It was everything you had ever wanted you realized. Why hadn’t you noticed sooner? You could’ve been kissing this muscly man a lot sooner. Only did you detach yourself when you needed air. Both of your foreheads touched, and you both panted for air.

“Mate.” You whispered to him. He smiled, thanking the mother you had finally felt the bond. He nodded in response.

“Mate.” He replied. He nudged you back against the sheets, gently letting your body plop on the bed.

“But I have loved you long before I found out we were mates.” He muttered, his wings flaring slightly. He climbed on top of you, straddling your hips.

You nodded. “I loved you too- but I just thought that, I wasn’t the girl you’d ever wanna be with.”

“I’ve fucking craved you ever since I met you. And that won’t stop, ever. I swear, you’re the most oblivious girl I’ve ever met.” He said. His eyes weren’t wet anymore. It calmed you, seeing him calmer. The shadows were slowly and lazily playing with your hair again. You peered into Azriel’s eyes and thought back to every single memory you and him had, and realized it was all love. You were too oblivious to realize it. He slowly leaned down and brushed his lips against yours, wings covering you both. You kissed him back with a fever you couldn’t stop anymore.

After a few minutes, he crawled off of you and stood. You rose, propping yourself up. He handed you the pink box.

“I stopped by your favorite bakery and got you a cupcake.” Azriel spoke. The cupcake inside was big- almost two times bigger then your hand. And it was your favorite flavor. Your eyes softened at the kindness. You looked back up to him as you lifted the cupcake towards him.

“Eat Azriel.” You whispered. His eyes darkened upon realizing you wanted to solidify the mating bond- and confirm it. He shivered but stopped himself.

“You sure you don’t want a mating ceremony-“

“Eat the fucking cupcake Azriel.”

Tag list:

@going-through-shit @amara-moonlight

@tele86 @saltedcoffeescotch @minnieoo

@fxckmiup @charlotteintumbleland

@amygdtjhddzvb

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starry-eyedblog · 4 months

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see what you do?

merry christmas to those who celebrate! this is my gift to you guys. i was able to motivate myself to write out a small drabble based off of this image i posted the other day, enjoy!

warnings/tags: john price x reader, 18+ suggestive content

it’s late at night, the two of you getting ready for bed together. you’re currently stood in the bathroom alone, cleaning all the grime off from the long taxing day. you’re dressed in a simple long sleeve pyjama top and cute underwear, stood on your tippy toes to stare into the mirror, your hips pressed to the marble counter. you don’t notice john walking into the dimly lit bathroom, your eyes shut as you clean the soap off but you feel him, his strong arms wrapping around your waist.

“hiya baby,” you say softly, dragging the cloth down your face gently to wipe off the remaining soap from your cleanser. he doesn’t respond, instead pressing his face into your shoulder to take a discrete sniff of your scent that he can never get enough of. “ready for bed?” you ask, opening up your eyes, eyelashes fluttering a few times to focus on your partner’s face in the mirror.

you chuckle softly at the sight, heart melting at how content he seems with your body flush to his. he’s currently only dressed in grey boxers, his usual attire for bed leaving his warm, hairy chest pressing into your back. “always look so good like this love.” he mumbles into your shoulder and you flush pink. “m’jus gettin ready for bed john, nothin special.” you usher out, grabbing the tub of your nighttime moisturizer and unscrewing the lid.

as your fingers dip into the soft white peaks, you feel john press his body impossibly closer to yours. “miss me that much huh?” you smile as you smear the moisturizer onto your face and rub it in carefully. it doesn’t take you long to massage it into your skin, and soon your placing the tub back onto the counter near the sink. “fuck sweetheart, you really don’t know what you do to me.” he mutters, his voice low and sending a shiver down your spine.

before you can even respond, he’s twirling you round causing your left arm to grab the counter behind you to steady yourself while he gently takes your right hand and guides it down to his crotch where he hold’s your hand there with both of his hands, dwarfing yours. that’s when you feel it, how achingly hard he is. fuck, he’s practically leaking through the fabric.

“see what you do?” he rasps, looking up from where your hand is resting to stare at your pretty face. you slowly trail your eyes up to meet his, a pink flush settling on your face. “that jus from me getting ready for bed?” you ask, voice quiet and almost strained. he nods, neither one of you moving your hands. “everythin’ you do turns me on love.” john purrs and his hands squeeze around your right hand gently.

you’re in a state of surprise and arousal, unable to comprehend how he’s this hard just from watching you do your nighttime skin routine. but god, is it hot. “why don’t we take care of it then?” you whisper, giving his hard cock a nice squeeze that has hips bucking up slightly and a groan tumbling from his mouth. “fuckin minx,” he gasps before he’s letting go and quickly pulling you over his shoulder in a fireman lift, bringing a quick swat down on your arse that has you squealing.

“you’re not gonna be sleeping for awhile princess.” john states, carrying you into the bedroom with ease.

@bjornthebearguy

#john price #john price x reader #john price call of duty #john price cod #tw suggestive #price call of duty #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare

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clockwayswrites · 2 months

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Anyways, I blame @mokulule for starting this idea with me and then needing to go to sleep like a good person in a different timezone.

Jason tried not to clutch the stack of letters too tightly; they didn’t need to be any more wrinkled. They were a mess already. He’d tried his best. He had tried to smooth them again the edge of his desk and erase the smudges of dirt and grime. On the street they had been kept in the innermost pocket of his backpack, sandwiched between pieces of cardboard and held together by rubber bands. He’d only taken them out when he really needed them. He’d tried his best, but they still showed the scars of his life.

Maybe Bruce would overlook that.

He had overlooked the scars of Jason’s life on his skin, after all. Bruce had still taken in a dirt street rat and offered up his home. It didn’t seem to be a trick either. But would this be a step too far?

Jason knocked on the door to Bruce’s study not out of any sort of bravery, but because he was afraid he’d start tearing at the letters out of nerves if he didn’t, and he couldn’t do that to the letters, not when they had gotten him through so much.

“Come in. Oh, Jaylad, is everything alright?” Bruce asked, looking up from behind the massive wooden desk.

He looked so serious there in that room.

Jason swallowed and nodded.

“Alright,” Bruce said a moment later. He slowly closed the folder he was looking over and set it off to the side with oddly purposeful movements. “Do you want to come in, or do you need me in a different room?”

Wasn’t that a question that almost made Jason back out. But now, he’d thought about this and the study was the best place. It felt like a real request here. Taking a breath, Jason entered the study and perched on one of the chairs in front of the desk. He felt annoyingly tiny in it. He tried to find the words to start— to explain this to Bruce— to ask, but not for the first time, his words were failing him. In the end he just leaned forward and put the pile of letters carefully on Bruce’s desk.

It was hard to watch someone else pick them up, but Bruce was holding them gently.

Bruce wasn’t an expressive person, not with his real emotions, but Jason watched carefully as Bruce read— the slight pinch of his brows, a little twist of his lips as he slipped between emotions, a little tensing around his eyes. The most time was on the first few letters before Bruce scanned through the rest of them.

“You have a pen pal.”

“Yeah, yes,” Jason said, clearing his throat. “Was able to write at the first home I was in, tell him not to write anymore and that I wouldn’t be able to. I didn’t want him to worry when I just… stopped.”

Bruce gave one of his odd hums.

Jason waited as Bruce flipped through the letters again before he set them down carefully and gave Jason his full attention. “Do you want to invite Danny to come visit?”

#someone stop me and make me finish bobi and stop stressing myself out about it #blood ink and tears #biat #dp x dc #dead on main

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stars-for-circe · 3 days

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The Improper Use Of a Screwdriver

Tags / cw: smut, and, well. That. Very small drabble

Mechanic!Abby finishing up her shift, cleaning the oil and grime off her hands as she counts the minutes until you come meet her at the store. And when you come over, smiling and hugging her, wearing her clothes, smelling like her - Abby decides going home can wait.

The way she drags you to to the corner, damn near throwing you on an empty workbench - secluded enough, she decides - before kissing you hard. Her hair all mussed up and sweat dripping down her body from a long day of work, the first few buttons of her jumpsuit already undone as her hands explore up and down your sides.

She has you so fucking needy. Already dripping, moaning and sighing breathlessly against her lips. She should have known two fingers weren’t going to be enough. When she slides them in, slick coated and sticky as her thumb circles your clit. How even then, you still buck your hips looking for more. Of course she left her strap at home. Well, it’s not like she’d wear it to work, unplanned. But it’s hard to concentrate when knuckles deep in her wife who was begging for more at this point. For something bigger, thicker, rounder. Something that could just……screw you good.

And imagine your surprise, when it catches against your entrance. When Abby starts to run it up and down, teasing your clit, gathering your slick for a few seconds. Your little gasps against the cold, ribbed rubber handle - originally for grip, but now for texture - as it slides into you. As it starts pumping in and out so gently as to not hurt you, but so deep you can feel it in your stomach.

The way Abby moans as she watches the handle disappear in you, only to come out milky and wet. How she angles it just right, so that it presses against that spot inside you. How you get closer and closer, clenching so hard she swears she can feel the resistance as she thrusts the screwdriver faster into you. And you swear you’ve never cum so hard and so fast, with her fucking too with the screwdriver as her thumb rubs your clit and as she sucks marks into your neck.

Of course she helps you clean up, holding you steady on your shaky legs as she walks you to the car while proudly ignoring the knowing stares and smirks from her coworkers, before driving you both home. Afterwards, she keeps the screwdriver, of course, cleaned and in her office. A souvenir of sorts. And something to use if you’re both low on supplies during work once again. Oh, Abby wouldn’t trade her blue-collar life for the world.

#tlou2 #the last of us #the last of us 2 #tlou #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson the last of us 2 #abby Anderson smut #Abby Anderson tlou2 #Abby Anderson tlou #Abby Anderson the last of us

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kingkatsuki · 2 months

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This is the first time in a long, long time that I’ve actually been proud of a fic so I really hope you enjoy it. I’m already formulating a second part in my mind, or maybe a third who knows.

Summary: Sanemi knew you would always be his beacon of light, the only brightness in this dark pathetic world. At night he’d stare up at the same night sky as you, wondering if this is what you were doing right now too— searching out for the North Star that would help guide him back home to you.

All you have with Sanemi Shinazugawa are fleeting moments together, while he tries so desperately not to give you his heart.

Warnings: 18+, blood!mention, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, cunnilingus, foreplay, sex with feelings, light choking, Sanemi calls us a slut once, fingering, breeding!mention, slight spoilers for the final arc but moreso to do with Sanemi’s appearance.

Pairing: Shinazugawa Sanemi x f!reader.

Word Count: 6.3k.

You always enjoyed watching the stars. Constellations swirling above granted you a cherished moment to forget about the mundane routine of life. A welcome break between the early rise of working beneath your father at the family bakehouse, slaving away until each loaf was sold before leaving you to clean up the mess. The local Izakaya called his name as he would not return home until what little profit he’d earned was squandered.

You couldn't even blame him, this wasn’t the life that either of you had wanted or planned for.

Your brother, who was training to become a demon slayer, now dead. Your mother ran away with a travelling merchant she’d met in the village after as though to numb the pain of losing him. You weren’t even sure if she was still alive, but you wondered if she’d been granted the chance of a new start. A new family— forgetting all about you in the process as you were left to this pitiful existence with your drunk of a father.

This was the only time you truly felt serene. Your back was flat against the dewy grass as the cool evening chill whipped at your ankles, toes almost numb from the chill as your eyes met where one pattern ended and another began.

The crunch of footsteps through gravel broke you from your daydream as you jolted straight, wide eyes snapping towards the source of the noise as you noticed a white-haired man hunched over.

“Sanemi?” You had to blink to ensure your eyes weren’t deceiving you, the soft candlelight from your home only enough to add a gentle glow to your surroundings as you stood.

Bare feet rushed through sodden grass as you felt the ache of small pebbles digging into your soles as you made your way towards him, trying to ignore the way the gravel seemed to indent into your skin as you reached him. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen him, the last time you’d felt him— you weren’t even certain he was still alive until now.

He stopped you when you were close enough, rough palms gripping your arms to keep you at bay. Sanemi’s touch was always bruising, but you knew better than to think he was trying to push you away. You’d learned a long time ago that he struggled to articulate his feelings, and something that once had your heart aching now filled you with a comforting warmth.

“I don’t want to get you dirty.” He shook his head, and it was then you noticed the blood and grime that doused him.

Wondering whether the blood was his, dried crimson caked his skin and the torn fabric of his haori. Wondering if he’d noticed, nor even cared if it was. You felt tears begin to clump in your lashes as you stared up at his lilac eyes, hands reaching out for him despite being held back as you gently prised yourself out of his grip.

“Didn’t I tell you not to stay out this late alone,” He growled, “It’s not safe.”

“I have the sword you left,” You smile up at him, anxious to reach out and hold him, “I remember how to use it.”

Sanemi feels his chest swell with pride that you do, after spending the time to teach you how to properly defend yourself from all the bad in the world. The darkness that shouldn’t sully your perfect soul, although he notices that the sword is nowhere to be seen in the grass beside you.

“I’m unsure what use it is to you when it’s lying more than a stone's throw away.”

“I’ll bring it with me next time,” You laugh, and Sanemi feels himself physically relax at the tone.

Once Sanemi was sure you weren’t going to jump him and ruin your pretty night kimono he let go, allowing you to reach up and place a palm against his cheek as he leaned into your touch. Your hands were freezing from being out in the cool evening air, but his cheek blazed with heat. It was comforting as he exhaled softly, letting his eyes flutter shut for a moment to indulge himself with the feeling of you. The saccharine scent of you invaded his senses as his calloused palms found purchase on your hips, gripping you tight as though trying to convince himself that you were real.

His chest was heaving, which made you wonder if he’d struggled to make it here, noticing a fresh gash against his pectoral that answered your question about the source of all the blood.

“Sanemi, you’re hurt.” You mumbled, noticing the blood now dripping onto the gravel beneath your toes.

“‘m fine,” He shook his head, but the state of him seemed otherwise.

“No, you’re not,” You frowned, scrunching your nose so cutely that Sanemi had to physically restrain himself from leaning forward to kiss you.

“I’m fine, woman,” He barked, but there was no bite. Not to you, “I’ve dealt with far worse.”

“Even so,” You shook your head, taking one of his hands in your own, “I’d hate for you to have made it this far just to be scuppered by a surface wound.” Sanemi’s lips curled into a genuine smile at that, teeth bared as he allowed you to lead him back towards your home, “Let me bandage it up so it doesn’t become infected.”

You knew what you were getting into when you started dating the Wind Pillar, despite his numerous attempts to push you away. Telling you it was for your own good, to keep you safe. That you deserved better. And Sanemi was certain that was true, you deserved someone far better than him. Someone that would treat you well, and not leave you wondering whether you'd ever see him again. It was selfish really, for him to expect you to wait for him each time. To settle for fleeting moments and stolen kisses— but it was your fault, you’d done this. You’d made him fall for you. And what good was living a safe life if it didn’t include him?

You lead him around your small nagaya, the bills so high you were certain it wouldn’t be yours for much longer. But you didn’t want to trudge blood through the house and have to explain it to your father when he woke up.

“Let me carry you,” Sanemi started as he noticed your bare soles stepping through the pebbled path, his grip on your hand tightening.

He didn’t even question why you weren’t wearing sandals, like most other men probably would. He knew you loved the stars. It’s as though he understood the exact reason you’d been out here without them, despite the dangers of being alone and vulnerable so late at night. Sanemi knew every part of you, probably even better than you knew yourself and yet somehow he would never quite afford you that same luxury. Always trying to keep you at arm's length, in his own selfish way of protecting you. Or so he thought—

“I’m quite alright to walk, Shinazugawa.” You teased, and you could practically feel the growl vibrate through him once you’d called him by his family name.

“When have I ever been known as Shinazugawa to you?” He sneered, but followed behind as you opened the sliding door.

“I seem to remember you demanding I call you that when my brother trained under you, Shinazugawa.” You smiled softly, ignoring the gentle pang in your heart at the loss of your sibling, “I remember you calling me rather annoying too.”

“I called you a pain in my ass, actually.” He delighted in the sweet laughter that surrounded him at that memory, as he kicked his shoes off at the door.

Sanemi was silent as you sat him down on the wooden floor in the room where you slept as you began to grab the items you would need to patch him up, closing the sliding door behind you as you returned to find him dozing against your futon.

“Oi,” You teased, a habit you’d picked up from him, “Don’t fall asleep yet, you might have a concussion.”

“You think I’m foolish enough to let a demon near my head, woman?”

“No,” You smiled, kneeling beside him as you pulled back the open front of his demon slayer uniform, “But you are foolish enough to hit your head.”

Sanemi’s glare had you breaking out into a soft giggle as you tried to quieten yourself so as not to wake any of the sleeping occupants nearby, shaking your head as he allowed you to work at the wound that marked his skin. Teeth clenched as you pressed gauze against it before bandaging it to prevent dirt from entering the wound. You were glad it didn’t appear to be deep, and would certainly not leave a scar as impressive as the ones that already littered his skin. But as it was still bleeding when he’d arrived, you wondered how long it had been since his battle.

“Why did you come here?” You mumbled as you finished up your haphazard attempt at bandaging his wound. Something you’d learned to do the first time your father had returned home drunk and knocked his head falling over the entry step whilst removing his sandals. A skill you’d tried to hone over the years, but to this day it still seemed to be a work in progress.

But of course, Sanemi still came to you, even though he’d certainly receive better care from the Butterfly Mansion. Or at the very least a better dose of medication to relieve the pain— but time and time again he’d always leave you with the same response.

“I always find my way back to you.”

Which is why he navigated towards you like a compass searching for the North Star. And even after all this time, you still continued to ask the same question. Because you liked the sound of the answer that left his lips.

“You’re foolish to think I take better care of you than the Kakushi there,” You smiled down at him as he grumbled beneath you.

“And yet I’m still alive.”

“I’m unsure whether that’s by luck or chance, but it’s certainly not because of me.” You snort, shaking your head as you reach for the warm water you’d prepared to help clean his dirty skin. Soaking a soft cloth before you began to run it against his forehead and cheeks.

“There’s no need for that,” He scoffs, his large palm wraps around your wrist to pull you away from him as you frown.

“You’re filthy, Sanemi.” You scrunch your nose, “And you stink.”

You were ashamed to admit to him that you loved the way he smelt. His musky sweat was laced with the scent of grass and the rice bran he’d used to wash days earlier. You always found yourself basking in it, allowing it to intoxicate you as you fell even deeper.

“You’ve never had a problem with me being filthy before.” Sanemi ponders, his hand reaching up to smooth over the soft curve of your hip, “In fact, I’m certain I remember you saying you liked it.”

Your cheeks burned from his implication, feeling the neglected space between your thighs throb with desire as you subtly shifted thigh to thigh. A movement that didn’t go unnoticed by the hashira below you, a cocky smirk on his face as he flattened his palm on your lower back. Pushing down to bring you closer to him, your face hovering mere inches from his own as his warm breath fanned your face.

“I missed you,” You hum softly, admiring the way the flickering burn of your lantern illuminated his chiselled face. Your lips brushed over his own in the faintest kiss, his fingers tightening in the fabric of your nightdress as he tried to pull you back to repeat the motion.

“Not as much as me,” He husked, reaching his other hand up to hold the back of your neck. Two fingers dug into the curve while his calloused thumb stroked your jaw, reconnecting your lips in a deeper kiss. His nose bumped against yours before tilting his head to the side to push his tongue into your eager mouth, finding your own as he swallowed the desperate whine that threatened to spill.

You’d missed this, missed him. Your hands threaded through his messy white hair as your nails dragged against his scalp, causing Sanemi to grunt as he pulled you down to the futon beside him. Curving his frame over you as he groaned deep and low in his throat from the intense pain that shot through his side from the sudden movement.

“Sanemi, you shouldn’t move,” You stared up at him in worry as you broke the kiss, a snarl of irritation appearing on his face as he tried to bring you back to him, “You’re hurt.”

“Shut up,” He snarled, but there was no real malice behind it.

He was far rougher this time as if trying to prove to you that he was fit to do this— to take care of you. Settling himself between your parted thighs as you felt him lean himself on you, a comforting weight as you reconnected your lips. His kiss was far more ferocious, a mess of tongue and teeth as hands disappeared beneath the silken fabric of your night dress. Bunching the material around your hips as he lurched forward, pressing his desire against your clothed core as he swallowed your whines.

You could tell he was exercising restraint. Wanting nothing more than to rip the fabric from your quivering body and reveal your skin to him, but it would be left as evidence of your exploits. And since your father still thought his daughter was pure, it would be a foolish move. Instead, he pushed it higher, letting it settle above the swell of your naked breasts as he bit back a sigh. Teeth gnawing at his lower lip as he broke the kiss to indulge in the sight of you, thumbing the underside of your soft mounds as he watched your nipples stiffen to round peaks in the cool evening air.

How had he been so lucky to find you? To convince someone as perfect as you to lie with him? He had no clue, but he was certain it was evidence of the existence of ame. Not that he would ever make it there, and if this was the closest he’d ever get he would die content.

“Sanemi,” You cooed, breaking him away from his thoughts as you stroked your fingers along his neck. Following the curve of his collarbones as Sanemi dipped his head lower, lips circling one of your taut nipples as he sucked hard. Glaring up at you with purple eyes when you moaned loud, immediately biting down hard on your lip you were certain you’d drawn blood.

“If you can’t be quiet when I touch you here—” He reached a palm up to grope your other breast for emphasis, moulding the skin between his fingers as he massaged gently, “Then how will I be able to feast on your cunt?”

You were noisy. So much so that Sanemi had to press his palm to your mouth to quieten you, a crude smirk on his lips as he nuzzled the junction between your breasts. Kissing a path down your stomach as he followed every line and curve, removing his hand from your mouth when he was more certain you’d be quiet as he reached down to curl his fingers into your panties. Pulling them down your thighs to bare you to him completely.

“Beautiful.” He hummed beneath his breath as his thumbs spread you open, cherishing the way your slick broke off into silvery strings against your folds, “Is this all for me?”

“Yes,” You felt hot beneath his sweltering gaze, heart pounding against your ribcage as he settled on his stomach. Pressing the softest kiss to the top of your mound before curling his forearms beneath your parted thighs, shamelessly inhaling the scent of you as he pressed another kiss against you, this time to your sensitive clit.

“Fuck,” The motion had your hips bucking wildly, his palm splayed flat against your pelvis as he tightened his grip around your thighs.

“Still so sensitive,” He murmured, granting you another lingering kiss as he tasted you on his lips, “Is this how much she missed me?”

“Don’t talk like that, Sanemi.” And it wasn’t because he was talking to your cunt and not to you, it was the crude words that seemed to flow from his lips so effortlessly that left your stomach swirling in knots and a delicious ache between your thighs.

“Oh?” He hummed, dragging his tongue through the mess you’d— he’d made between your thighs, “Are you saying she didn’t miss me? Was there another keeping you satisfied while I was gone?”

You could hear the jealousy behind his words, the cruel lilt to his voice that had him digging his fingertips into your skin just that much harder. Sanemi was no fool, he knew you’d make the perfect wife for many respectable men. And he was certain that none would refuse— it wasn’t peculiar to think that you had offers while he was gone, or at the very least the promise of your father selling you to pay off his debts.

But you couldn’t tell him the truth right now. That your father had been searching for a suitor for you, finally settling on one that he deemed fit (and it certainly wasn’t because he was the highest bidder). A man from the next village over who would look after you, you were assured. A man that you could happily live out the rest of your days with, and give up the long hours spent in your father's bakery.

You were certain if Sanemi knew he would see red, even if there was no chance of him asking for your hand instead. A Demon Slayer, a Hashira no less, would make the perfect prize for any young woman. Easily setting you up for life, even if they didn’t make it out alive, nor make it past their twenty-fifth birthday. It was why so many were reluctant to take on wives, content with aiding their needs with the local courtesans whenever they’d rest for the night.

Your father still thought of you as pure, a virgin. If he found out he’d surely sell you to the local brothel to pay off his debts instead, a life far worse than a loveless marriage you supposed. But it wouldn’t make a difference when none of those paths led you to Sanemi.

“It’s only ever been you,” You spoke softly and sincerely as you stared down at your lover, an answer that seemed to appease him as he nuzzled your soft cunt. Unabashedly licking a long stripe from the tight rim of your asshole all the way through your slick, causing you to whine beneath him as his tongue delved deeper, pushing inside your fluttering hole.

“Good.” He spoke against your sex, your fingers winding through his messy hair as you rolled your hips against his face. The flat of his tongue lapped at you as though tasting the sweetest ambrosia, nose nudging your clit as he ate you out with urgency. Moaning into your cunt as he pushed his tongue as deep as it would go, lashing against your inner walls as you writhed against tousled sheets.

You gasped as he added his two right fingers, curling them inside you as he pressed them against the spongy spot inside you that he knew like the back of his hand. His lips wrapped around your puffy clit as he sucked hard, eyes staring up at you from his position as he watched you come apart for him. Your walls trembling in the throws of your climax that surged through you in harsh waves. You’d expected him to stop, to allow you a moment's respite, but he didn’t. Devouring you like a man starved as he continued to feast on your cunt. You were trying desperately to keep quiet, your own hand clamping over your mouth in a feeble attempt to silence yourself as your debauched moans still broke through.

Not that Sanemi was much quieter, the lewd smack of his lips against your sopping folds filled the room as he slurped at your slick. Collecting it in his mouth before crudely spitting it back down on your clit, letting it dribble towards your greedy hole where his fingers were fucking into you with vigour. Feeling your walls clamp down around his ring and pinky finger as he worked you through your climax, intent on giving you another before he even thought about pulling away.

He made it difficult to think as blown eyes stared up at the ceiling, your thighs clamping down around his head as you tried to push him off your overstimulated heat.

“Stop squirmin’,” He snarled against your clit, showcasing his sheer display of strength as he tugged your thighs open for him again, “I know you can take it, and you will.”

Your hole throbbed around his fingers at his crude tone, the pleasure swirling in your pelvis as he worked to draw another orgasm from your pliant body. Watching the way you were trying to blink back tears as he sucked your clit hard, thrashing beneath him as he felt it surge through you in harsh waves.

“Sanemi,” You choked back a sob as you felt the pleasure consume you, thighs trembling as your cunt gushed and throbbed around his digits. Smirking against your slit in satisfaction as he worked you through it, lapping at your clit as you mewled pathetically.

“So beautiful.” He hummed, smacking his lips in satisfaction as he finally pulled away to give you a moment to calm your racing heart. Shamelessly suckling at his fingers as he cleaned your release from them, before pressing open-mouthed kisses against the apex of your thighs.

You gasped as a sudden pain surged through you, feeling Sanemi’s teeth bite down onto the supple skin of your inner thigh as he began to suck a deep bruise into your flesh. Causing your body to convulse as he left his mark on you. He was never foolish enough to leave anything in plain sight, evidence of your debauchery and certain to sign your courtesan sentence. This was his way of leaving his lingering presence on your body, to claim you as his. The subtle ebb of it whenever you walked evidence that you belonged to him— because no matter what, you would always be his.

He pressed a final, soothing kiss to the wound as he moved up your body, settling your thighs over his own as he busied himself with undoing his belt. Letting the top of his uniform settle around his waist as he bared his top half. Slapping your greedy hands away as you reached between your thighs to grab at his thick, heavy cock. The weight of it had it drooping down towards the floor, forking veins following the length of it as they lead towards a blushing uncut tip leaking with pre.

“Don’t you dare,” He chastised as you gave him a needy pout, licking your lips at the thought of how long it had really been, “You know I won’t last.”

You boldly ogled him, watching as he wrapped himself in a strong fist to give himself some relief. Pulling the foreskin back as he smoothed the leaking tip between your dripping folds, covering himself in your slick. Gasping as the bulging head nudged your clit, before it caught against your fluttering hole. Your desperate cunt tried to coax him in as you started to roll your hips towards him invitingly.

“I’m sure you’ve become a greedy succubus since we met,” He goads, grinning down at you whilst pressing the fat tip of his cock against your tight entrance, “So damn needy.”

“It’s your fault,” You bite back, “You’ve turned me into this.”

“Oh, yeah?” He hums pensively, pushing his hips forward as he feels your hole begin to swallow him, “I’ve turned you into a desperate little slut?”

“Only for you.” You cry out when he cants his hips forward at your response, burying his cock inside you with one rough thrust.

“F-uck,” Sanemi’s eyes roll as he feels your cunt consume him whole. His balls pressed snugly against the curve of your ass as the messy hairs sat at the base tickle your clit.

Sanemi had always felt big, the sensation always caught in your throat whenever he’d fill you to the brim. Your exploits are few and far between when he lived the life of a Hashira, never knowing when would be the next time— or if this would be your last. But he always granted you a moment to adjust to his size and a chance for him to admire the way your throat bobbed and your eyes rolled as you felt him fill you whole.

Sanemi settled himself on his forearms on either side of you, his chest pressed skin to skin, so close you could feel each other's heartbeats. His hands held your head as he began to push his hips forward, starting a steady pace as he ground into you.

“I’ve missed you,” He rasped, resting his forehead against yours as his gaze bore into your own. Your arms wound around his body to cling to his muscular back, nails leaving crescent-shaped moons in their wake as the blunt head of his cock carved you into the shape of him.

“I missed you too,” You whine, trying to choke back a moan as you pressed your lips to his, “Missed you so much.”

Your thighs clung to his muscular waist, holding him tight as he ground into you. Sending delicious friction directly to your clit as you tried to pull him impossibly closer, wanting to feel every part of him. The curve of his heavy cock was perfectly positioned to drag against the spot inside you that he knew better than the back of his hand, focusing his attention on it with each roll of his hips.

“Taking me so well,” He groaned, already feeling the telltale signs of your impending climax, “Good girl.”

You were Sanemi’s proof that there was still good in the world, that there were still some things worth saving, worth cherishing. His nose brushed against yours as he brought you into another sensual kiss, swallowing the desperate cries that wracked through your body as you tried desperately to keep quiet. Your nails dragged crimson red lines down the expanse of his back as you felt yourself teetering on the edge of another climax, leaving marks he was proud to wear as your toes began to curl.

The coil inside you snapped roughly as you were propelled into your climax. Your entire body convulsing as you came undone, harsh waves of pleasure crashed through you as Sanemi swallowed his name from your throat.

He pulled back to watch you, tilting his head to the side as he fucked you through your release. His mouth was no longer able to conceal the desperate pants that escaped and mixed with the sound of skin against skin as he continued his rough pace.

You turned your head to the side on your soft pillow, shy at the way he was looking at you as he loomed over you. The feeling had your stomach swirling in knots as he brought his hand to your jaw to pull your attention back to focus on him.

“You were so concerned about being loud,” He goaded, leaning forward to wrap his fingers around the column of your throat, “But here you are trying to wake the entire village.”

Your cunt clenched at that, hard. Causing Sanemi to smirk in satisfaction as he started to press down on your windpipe, feeling the way your cunt tightened in response as his hulking form curved over you. Using your body for his own pleasure as he felt the intense heat blazing from between your thighs. Tits bouncing from the ferocity of his thrusts, as you proceeded to wonder if he might actually want you both to be caught like this. So he could finally tell your father that he was taking you away from this and making you, his.

“Oi,” Sanemi’s fingers pulsed against your neck, trying to bring your focus back to him, “Are you still with me? Or have I fucked all sense from you?”

Sanemi’s grin was maniacal as your cunt clenched around him in response, your head lolling back against the pillow as he kept his bruising pace. Unable to do much from this position but lay back and take it as he used your body for his own pleasure.

You felt delirious, the pleasure all-consuming as Sanemi drove his hips forward. Thrusting into you with the stamina and precision only a Hashira could have, his perception telling him exactly how to move in order to have you writhing beneath him as he focused his attention on that same spongy spot inside you. Focusing his thrusts as the tip of his cock kissed your cervix with each forward motion, dragging his length against your g-spot each time he pulled back.

“Such a greedy little thing,” He provokes, each word annunicated with a rut of his hips. Certain he won’t be able to last much longer, your hips buck up against him and he can feel your slick drooling down his length and coating his balls.

Your hands are fisting the thin sheet covering your futon now, groaning when you realise that he’s trying to hold back. Waiting for you to climax once more before he affords himself the same relief. And it’s hard to hold back, especially when you look so innocent and malleable beneath him. You really were far too good for the likes of him.

Sanemi wonders what he would be like if he did cum inside you, coating your pliant walls with his sticky spend. Imagining how pretty and ethereal you’d look all plump and round as you carry his child, giving him an heir to the Shinazugawa name and carrying his family on through generations. Thinking of the docile life he could spend with you, living the rest of your days peacefully and away from all the trials and tribulations that come with being a Hashira.

But a life like that would never be possible, not when there is still a single demon out there wandering the streets and waiting to destroy every unblemished part of his life. The image of losing you is too much for him to bear, the mere thought of it has an immeasurable pain shooting through him and striking him straight through the heart. Sanemi would do anything to keep you safe, and if it meant being alone for the rest of his days or sacrificing himself for you— he’d do it.

And what’s worse is Sanemi knew you’d let him cum inside you, your mind already fucked stupid and completely intoxicated with arousal. He bets he could get you to agree to anything when you’re like this, so desperate and compliant beneath him. You’d let him bury his cock inside you to the hilt and shoot rope after rope of his hot spend inside your fertile womb.

He’s sweating now. Letting go of your neck in favour of gripping onto your soft hips, the perfect child-bearing hips as he has to bite back a moan. Breaking skin as he gnaws at his bottom lip hard, nose scrunched as he feels the tip of his cock presses snugly against your cervix with each forward motion.

“Sanemi,” You practically sing his name as a warning as he feels the way your walls convulse around his heavy cock, desperately trying to milk him of his release, “I’m cumming, oh god, I’m cumming.”

He doesn’t bother silencing you this time, indulging in the whiny lilt of your voice as he feels you gush around him. Almost forgetting that he’s supposed to be pulling out as he curses beneath his breath, the coil inside his pelvis snaps abruptly as he manages to pull out, just barely— thick, hot ropes of his potent seed spurt against your quivering cunt as they coat your folds. His rough hand wraps around himself to jerk it roughly as more land against your pelvis and stomach, some making it as far as the underside of your breasts as his chest heaves.

You’re a mess, he thinks as he stares down at the remnants of his spend. His cock still leaking with a final few trickles of his release as he smears it against your inner thigh before sitting back on his haunches to admire the scene. Silvery white coats your clit, drooling all the way down to the curve of your ass as it disappears between your cheeks, settled on top of your mound as it leaves streaky lines along your tummy and then spots around your breasts. But still part of him regrets not finishing inside you, emptying his balls inside your warm, wet cunt to claim you as his.

It’s a bad idea, terribly really— but he can’t help himself, as Sanemi leans down to collect some of his spend on your clit against his thumb, revelling in the way you keen against him from the sensitivity as he dips it lower and pushes it inside your creamy, abused hole. Watching with curious, lilac eyes at how easily and eagerly your body sucks it in. The mess disappears inside your trembling walls as he fucks it deeper, pulling out to smear the rest into your clit as your body shivers and pushes it out with the aftershocks of your climax.

“It’s too much, Sanemi.” You mumble tiredly, trying to cling to his forearms as he leans down to press a gentle kiss to your lips.

He reaches over to the bowl of water you’d brought in for him, wincing at how tepid it is now as he submerges the cloth, wringing it out between rough fingers as he begins to clean you up. Starting with the drying cum that coats your body as goosebumps begin to prickle your skin from how gentle he is, taking his time to clean the cloth and repeat the process as he nears the junction of your legs. Cleaning his spend from your inner thighs before running the cloth through your sticky folds, pressing a kiss to your knee as you whine about how sensitive you are as he tries to clean you with as much care as he can— As though he’s frightened you might break. He’s gentle as he pulls your nightgown back down your body, smoothing the fabric as he smiles down at you softly.

Sanemi doesn’t bother cleaning himself and refuses your help when you offer it. Perfectly content to leave your drying slick coating his skin as he pulls his pants back up, preparing to tighten his belt before he looks down at the dejected expression on your face.

“Are you not staying for a while, Sanemi?” You mumble softly. Acutely aware that it’s a risk to ask something so bold of him, especially when your father could walk in at any time and catch you with the Wind Hashira.

His gaze softens in a way reserved just for you as he cups your cheek, rough fingers catching against your soft skin as he leans down to connect your lips in a sensual kiss. Wordlessly dropping to the futon beside you as he pulls you into his arms, burying your face in his chest as you listen to the rhythm of his heart beating hard and fast. His fingers stroke absentminded patterns against your back as he buries his nose into the top of your head, greedily surrounding himself with your scent as he cherishes the moment. Trying to commit everything to memory so he can remember this on those dark days when he’s without you.

This should’ve been the moment you told him about the possibility of your father marrying you off, but you couldn’t. He didn’t need to know, and it was better this way. You could tell him in the morning, he was already tired from his travels and you wanted this happiness to last just that little longer.

But you didn’t realise that he’d be gone by morning, the only sign he was ever here was the dirty water, and drops of blood that soaked into the hardwood, and stuck to the fabric of your nightdress. Each time he left you like this, it had you wondering whether that would be the last time you’d see him.

Sanemi knew you would always be his beacon of light, the only brightness in this dark pathetic world. At night he’d stare up at the same night sky as you, wondering if this is what you were doing right now too— searching out for the North Star that would help guide him back home to you.

#sanemi x reader #sanemi shinazugawa x reader #sanemi smut #sanemi shinazugawa smut #sanemi x you #sanemi shinazugawa x you #demon slayer x you #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer smut #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kny x reader #kny smut #kimetsu no yaiba smut

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bloodsuckingfiends · 18 days

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Take Care of You

Summary: Tav's selflessness does not go unnoticed by Astarion, but so doesn't the way her selflessness is at the expense of her own well-being. He decides to take it into his own hands to take care of her... in more ways than one.

Pairing: Astarion x fem! Tav (reader)

Warnings: Tav overworks herself and neglects her own needs/selfcare, smut, fingering (Tav is AFAB), feminine pet names used, praise kink, I think that's it!

Word Count: 1.3k+

A/N: I have brainworms again and need to get this out sooooo enjoy?

Oftentimes, Astarion found that Tav tended to the needs of others, but very rarely to any needs of her own. He had witnessed Tav spend the last 3 days taking care of everyone, including himself in various ways that had her now looking, and surely feeling, absolutely exhausted. As he stood outside his tent, eyes scanning the camp setup before him, his gaze zeroed in on his Tav who was currently starting the fire, and helping to set up Gale’s various cooking tools and ingredients. A soft smile tugged at his lips just at the mere sight of her, before turning to a frown. As it was, Gale was away from camp, surely bathing off the day’s blood and grime along with their other companions, as Tav readied everything for their return. Her hair was crusted with blood, as was her armor, and her cheeks were streaked with dirt. Her eyes ringed with purple, tell tale signs of her exhaustion.

With a sigh, Astarion makes his way across camp, coming to stand beside Tav,

“Darling, I must say, you do look absolutely ravishing in red, but don’t you think it’s a good idea to get cleaned up?” She looks up at him with doe eyes, hands not stilling in their endeavor to help.

“Oh I don’t mind waiting. The others won’t be long, and besides, I just want to help set up for Gale. He’s always so kind as to make dinner for everyone, so this is me paying him back.”

Astarion manages to internalize his eye roll, and hold his tongue from pointing out that Tav has saved the wizard plenty of times in battle to make up for the meager stew that’s served nearly daily.

He places a hand on her shoulder, before pulling back and dusting the dried blood off his hand, “I just worry that you haven’t been taking care of yourself, is all.” a clear of his throat does well to cover the awkwardness he feels at saying such a vulnerable thing to her.

“I’m alright Star, no need to worry.” She gives him a glance and a little smile.

“I don’t mean to be blunt darling, but you look positively dreadful and like you could use a nap. Please, let me take care of you.” Astarion huffs, frustrated at her stubbornness. Tav straightens up and turns, her eyes meeting his almost pleading ones, “Okay, I’ll let you take care of me.” Her voice comes out a quiet murmur. There was no denying him when he gave her that look.

The others arrive back to camp not long after Astarion gathers fresh clothes, a comb, and toiletries for Tav. He leads her to a secluded spot along the shore of a small lake they are camped by, before unbuckling and removing her heavy armor and underclothes, leaning forwards to press a kiss to her forehead as he does so. He strips himself of his own clothes, regardless of having bathed earlier that evening, taking Tav’s hand in his own and bringing her to the water. Astarion gets to work, lathering the soap between his hands, and gently scrubbing the filth from Tav’s body and face, a shiver running through her at his touch. He has her fully dip underwater, then begins to work the soap through the blood drenched strands of her hair, massaging at her scalp with his fingertips. Tav lets a moan slip past her lips.

“Does that feel good darling?” Astarion chuckles as he brings the soap down to the ends of her hair.

She mumbles an affirmative, her eyes flutter shut.

“Alright, there we go. Just rinse this out for me, will you, love?”

Tav dips back below the surface, thoroughly rinsing out her locks. When she resurfaces, Astarion can’t help but bite his lip at the sight. The water rolling down her neck, over her breasts as she pushes her hair away from her face. She looks like a painting, he thinks.

The two dry off, and Tav dresses in the clothes that Astarion had brought along for her; a pair of loose trousers, and one of his ruffled night shirts she so loved to steal. Once in Astarion’s tent, the vampire sits, patting the space between his legs and motioning for Tav to take a seat. She obeys, and sits while he starts to comb her hair.

“How are you feeling, my dear?” he hums, fingers beginning to plait her hair.

“I’m okay. I guess I didn’t realize how tired I am.” Tav yawns, her hands mindlessly playing with a loose thread on his trousers.

“Tav, you really must take care of yourself. You put everyone, including myself, before you. It’s really no wonder you’re so exhausted.” he ties off the braid with a piece of leather. His arms come around to wrap over Tav’s chest, holding her against his own and pressing a kiss to the side of her neck.

“I just want to help everyone, and I guess I lose myself in the process.” a chill runs through her at the feel of his lips on her sensitive skin.

“Darling, do you think you could try to lose yourself in me, just for a moment, hm?” his tongue flicks against the edge of her jaw.

She gasps in a breath, and stutters, “ye-yes, I think I could do that.”

“Let me take care of you.” One hand whispers across her chest, lightly cupping one breast in it’s hold, before trailing down her stomach, and dancing along the waist of her trousers, “Let’’s take these off.”

Tav shimmies her pants over her hips and down her legs, toeing them off to the side. Astarion runs his hands down her naked thighs, hooking beneath them to lift them and rest them over the tops of his, successfully spreading her open for him. Her breath catches in her chest, the cool air hitting her already sensitive cunt.

“My my, look at you. You’re already positively dripping.” He dips his fingers below and runs his middle finger through her wet, swollen slit, opposite hand running up her ribcage, grasping at her breasts and teasing at her nipples. He toys at her entrance, teasing the tips of his fingers in her before pushing slowly inside. Tav moans, her chest heaving slightly at the intrusion.

“That’s it, such a good girl taking my fingers like this.” Astarion coos in her ear, nose pressed to her cheek. He begins to pump his digits in and out, crooking them just enough to rub at that spot that makes her mewl.

“Just feel how good I’m making you feel, my love.” The pace of his fingers picks up, and his other hand pinches at one of her nipples.

“St-Star, I’m close.” her head falls back against his shoulder, throat exposed for his mouth’s taking. Thighs shake against his as she nears her end. He sucks and licks at the flesh of her throat, fingers continuing their pace. The hand playing with her breasts, makes its way down to circle her swollen clit. Tav whines at the contact, hands grip at his forearms, grounding her to the moment.

“That’s it, pet. Come for me. Come around my fingers, I want to feel it.”

Her cunt spasms around him, thighs quaking and hips lifting to meet his movements. Moans fly past her lips, as she rides out her orgasm. Astarion slows his fingers as she comes down from her high, “Shh shh shh, there we go.” Tav looks back at him, a blissed out, glassy look to her eyes. “There you are, darling. How did that feel?”

She tries to regulate her breathing, “So good.” she manages to reply.

He grabs a cloth, and cleans her up, then slips back on her underclothes and trousers.

“Come here, my love.” He scoops her up and lays her down, her head upon his chest, as he pulls the bedroll and blankets around the two of them.

“Thank you Star, for taking care of me.” Tav mumbles as she drifts off and gets the much needed rest that she deserves.

#astarion x tav #astarion #astarion ancunin #bg3 astarion #astarion x reader #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x oc #astarion x reader smut #astarion bg3 #astarion x tav smut #astarion x tav angst #astarion x tav fluff #baldurs gate #baldur's gate iii

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ravenraverequests · 2 months

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crm rick grimes x gn reader smutty headcanons

-typically, he likes to fuck you hard and fast. he likes to hear you whimper and cry out in his ear as he fucks you into your mattress. he always leaves you with a limp that the other soldiers comment on. you tell them you hurt your leg in training while rick smirks to himself.

-some nights, when the sorrow and darkness in his eyes is deeper than usual, he likes to fuck you slow. you wrap your legs around his waist and bury your face in his neck while he thrusts deeply and leisurely into you. he tells you how beautiful you are and how lucky he is to have met you.

-after his training, when he’s frustrated and sweaty and tired, you always get down on your knees for him and let him fuck your mouth. he pulls on your hair and praises you, telling you what a “good little whore” you are for him and how “fucking good” you are. he apologizes for the hair pulling and head pushing after he finishes by going down on you until you’re crying out and begging him to stop with your thighs shaking around his head. he always tells you “one more, baby, I know you’ve got one more in you”.

-he’s the best kisser you’ve ever kissed. the first time you kissed, he had taken your face gently into his hand and kissed you deeply. you grabbed his shirt and pulled him closer, and before you knew it, you were up against a wall with your legs hoisted around his waist, grinding down on him and whining into his mouth.

-while he always tops and is usually the more dominant one in bed, he has his submissive streak. there are times when you run your hands through his hair when he’s between your legs and his eyes flick up to yours, pleading and desperate to be good. you’ll never forget the night where you told him to fuck you harder and when he obeyed, you whispered in his ear, “good boy.” he had cum almost immediately after, letting out a whimper. he apologized profusely for finishing prematurely, but you considered it one of the hottest things he’d ever done.

-he loves any position that you’ll let him put you in, but something about you riding him drives him crazy. he loves to grope your chest and kiss your torso as you move your hips. he loves to praise you when you do it, whispering sweet but dirty things to you. when he can’t take your slow hip swivels anymore, he grabs your hips with his large hands and begins to bounce you in his lap. he’ll pull his feet in to steady himself as he thrusts upwards into you. when you’re done, he likes to keep you in his lap until his cock fully softens. he likes holding you close to his chest and petting your hair.

-he’ll never leave you hanging. he’s a gentleman so he always insists on you cumming first (and more than once). even when he’s pounding into you, about to fall off the edge himself, he’ll hold it off long enough to make you cum first.

-he accidentally wears his dog tags one night. he’s over you, making you moan in pleasure, when you fist your hands in his shirt and demand it come off. he sits back in his haunches to pull his shirt off. he chuckles lowly when his dog tags jump out and goes to take them off, but you tell him to keep it on. you cum hard that night, with his dog tags dangling in your face as he fucks you.

-he loves to overstimulate you. he adores the way you cry and squirm when he keeps licking even after your second orgasm. you love his mouth and he loves putting it to use for you. he prefers to make you cum at least once before he eases you down onto his cock. he loves to have you sobbing and begging for him.

#the ones who live #the walking dead #rick grimes #andrew lincoln #gn reader x rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #fanfiction #gender neutral reader #towl #twd #twd towl

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thegnomelord · 2 months

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for some comfort for hound:

with makarov he would shower in record time under cold water, harshly scrubbing away blood when makarov wanted him clean.

not long after being rescued price notices this, how quickly you wash yourself and, if you let him, when he touches your skin it’s cold to the touch afterwards. so price decides to spoil you like a pampered poodle and not like the fighting dog you are were.

he either draws you a bath or joins you in the shower, making sure the water is warm as price washes you, lathering your body with frothy soap, gently wiping away grime on your body and tracing all your new scars even lighter. eventually he rinses you off and massages shampoo into your hair, fingers scratching across your scalp and your guard begins to drop, body relaxing slightly and when you get out you even let price dry you off. you crawl into bed and price’s heart feels like breaking when he tucks you into his side and you hold onto him like he’ll disappear through your fingers, but he doesn’t plan on going anywhere

HFIEUDHFBKSUDEJ y'all are just putting more and more worms into me brain with these ideas! God I am so stealing this idea, just Hound getting to feel some comfort for once.

Idk where this would be in the timeline, maybe after Hound has gotten away from Makarov for good or at some point during rehab where he's getting better but before Makarov comes to take his dog back

CW: NSFW nonsexual nudity, fluff, me rambling a bit, very rough

With Makarov it was always a question how he wanted you. Sometimes he wanted you to take him as you were, blood drying and cracking along your skin, your clothes uncomfortably sticking to your body from how drenched they are in crimson. Other times he wouldn't let a single drop of it touch him, and you'd be allowed to wash yourself for as long as it took him to fully disrobe, leading to you developing the habit of scrubbing your skin raw under cold water to save time.

You've grown used to it, it's one of the few constants in your life. You bite back a scathing word when Price touches your cold skin, seemingly not pleased with how cold your skin is. "Come here son." His voice is soft, calloused hand even softer as it wraps loosely around your wrist, tugging you along to the bathroom.

You know you have to resist, your should resist— your muscles tense beneath your skin, heart beating loud and fast against your ribs, the violence in your skull starting to gnaw on your brain — but something stops you, wraps around your mind like a heavy blanket and you don't notice how you let him disrobe you, watching him dumbly as he fills the tub with soapy water.

Your shoulders hunch as you sit in the tub. The warm water makes your skin prickle with disgust. Your eyes close when his hands rub gentle circles into your back, lightning rushing down your spine when the sponge makes contact with your skin. But you force yourself to weather this, to endure; god, when was the last time you felt warm water on you?

"What's on your mind lad?" Price's voice rumbles in your ears like the purr of some large cat. "You're pouting."

You grit your teeth, unable to look at him so you watch the soap bubbles in the water pop. "I am not pouting." You growl, your lip twitching to bare your teeth, but a few more swipes of the sponge along your spine makes your lips fall in a frown.

"sure you're not." Price chuckles, meticulous as he gently scrubs across your skin, careful not to aggravate the healing wounds. The tension in your shoulders slowly melts away like the first thaw of spring, small shivers racking down your spine. You don't understand why, but every gentle swipe of the sponge makes the collar sitting snuggly around your throat more and more constructive.

No- it's wrong, you're a bad dog for feelingg this way, you can't feel this way, you're not allowed to-

A low and pitiful sound escapes your throat, and just as quickly your attention is grabbed by gentle hands rubbing soap into your hair. "It's alright son." Price's nails scratch your scalp, evenly coating every strand with soap. "I got you." Your hair's been growing out from the cropped hairstyle Makarov likes on you, it makes you cringe. (Cropped like a working dog's ears get cropped or something idk)

You don't notice when you start to lean into his hands, the soothing scratch of his nails and the gentle hold of his palm cradling the back of your skull lulling you into a state of calm. Your eyes close as he pours water down your hair, careful not to get any soap into your eyes.

"Come on, stand up for me, that's a good boy." He praises as you rise, rivulets of water running down your skin. His gentle hands guide you to bend down so he can reach your head, drying your hair and then the rest of you. Something like acid burns in your muscles, your body screaming at you for letting Price touch you when you belong to Makarov. But your ears feel like they're stuffed full of cotton, the warmth of the water lingering in your brain you don't think when he gives you fresh clothes, just mindlessly putting them on and letting him move you where he wants.

A stagnant breath escapes you when you lay down in the bed, the covers and pillow too soft for a thing like you. Your bones feel like jello, you can't even raise your head as you feel Price settle next to you. You don't know what makes you do it, but you reach out with hesitant hands to wrap around his waist, hesitation making you stall as you expect a punishment for overstepping. But when none comes you shuffle closer and curl around him, burying your head into his side. His scent curls in your nose, softer and muskier than the cologne Makarov uses.

Price watches you as you drift off to sleep with your hands around him like he's a giant teddy bear for you. His eyes keep returning to the collar wrapped around your neck, his fingers ghosting around the buckle on your nape as he runs his hand up and down your back. Dark anger curls in his heart at the sight of it, his blood boils to see you like this. He wants you to be the man he knew, the happy, confident Sargent. And sometimes he can still see bits of the old you peek beneath the cover of anger and violence.

But then one little thing will have you careening back into the dog Makarov turned you into.

God. Price feels useless.

#gnome's tea break #gnome correspondence #cod mw2 #captain john price x male reader #captain john price x reader #captain john price #good dog fic #Hound-reader

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specialagentlokitty · 3 months

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Rick Grimes x reader - so perfect

Hello👋👋 Rick fluff where he comes home and just sees reader hanging out with the kids. And he just stops and watches them, thinking how lucky he is to have her. Please and thank you. Love your work btw❤❤❤. - @hoodiepandaninja16 💜

Holding Judith in your arms, you looked at Carl as he threw a tennis ball against the side of the house, catching it in his hand to throw it again.

“Carl?”

He looked over, stopping what he was doing.

“If you keep throwing that at all wall, you’re gonna break a hole in it eventually.”

He chuckled a little, looking at the tennis ball.

“Sorry, guess I got lost thinking.”

“Hey, not me you need to be sorry too, that poor house has been getting beat on for at least an hour.”

He laughed again, walking over to you, letting you place a hand on his head, and he rested his head on your shoulder.

“What’s going on?” You asked quietly.

He sighed a little bit, offering you nothing more than just a shrug.

“I don’t know, I guess I’m just thinking about a lot of stuff you know? Sometimes it’s hard not to when it’s all you can do.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. Do you want to talk about it?”

“Nah.”

You nodded, letting him move away from you and over to the front of the house where he sat down, so you did the same.

Placing Judith on the porch next to you, and Carl handed her his tennis ball.

“That’s fine, you don’t have to if you don’t want to. But if you do you know I’ll listen.”

“Thanks (Y/N).”

You smiled at him, and you leant back on your hands, looking at the skies that were threatening to downpour at any moment.

It was still sunny, but the clouds were rolling in quickly, and given the thunder that was in the distance it would be here soon.

“Do you think dad will make it back before the storm hits?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure.”

“You really don’t lie don’t you? Could’ve at least tried to lie for me.” Carl mocked.

You laughed a little, grinning down at him.

“Nope, what’s the point. The truth will come out eventually, whether you want it to or not, by lying your just wasting your own time.”

“Do you think he’ll be alright?”

“Yeah, I do.”

Carl nodded his head, he believed you.

Judith rolled the ball and you caught it before it went down the steps, rolled it gently back over to you and she giggled.

She pushed it back, so you once again pushed it back.

“Can you go through my bag and find my deck of cards?” You asked.

“Yeah, why?” Carl asked back.

“We’re gonna be stuck inside soon, May as well find some way to pass the time.”

You did try to keep them outside for as long as possible, but when it started to rain you decided to bring them inside.

Carl was insistent that he wanted to wait by the gate, but you wouldn’t let him.

So, you all sat on the floor of the living room, music coming from the stereo that you had put on.

Judith sat in your lap, and you tried teaching Carl how to play poker.

“Seriously, how is this in any way helpful?”

“It’s not, it’s just fun as hell.”

He grinned a little at you.

“Dad’s gonna hate you trying to teach me this, you know that right?”

“I could teach you how to throw them.”

“Like throwing stars?”

You nodded and he immediately sat up.

“Hell yes.”

“Hey, language. I’m an adult you’re not, your dad will kick my ass if he finds out.”

“Our secret?” Carl grinned.

You hummed, thinking for a moment as you studied with narrowed eyes.

“I used to cheat at poker in Las Vegas and was was banned from returning.”

“What?”

“You tell your dad that I’ll tell him you swear when he’s not around.”

You held your hand out and Carl grinned, shaking your hand.

“Deal.”

You let go, and you picked up one of the play cards, looking at the apple you had set on the table not long before.

Aiming, you threw the card, it curved a little in the air but lodged itself into the apple.

“Holy shit…”

“Hey! Just because I said I wouldn’t tell doesn’t mean you can keep doing it!”

“Show me again.”

While Judith slept on the couch you taught Carl some of the tricks of the trade you had learnt over time.

Carl was pretty quick with picking some of them up, others not so much, but the card throwing was his new favourite.

You had ran out of apples to throw them at, so you went to throwing them into his hat instead.

“Where did you learn this?”

“I spent a lot of time in Vegas kid, you pick up a lot of things in a place like that.”

“Did you have a gambling problem or something?”

You rolled your eyes.

“No, I was a professional gambler. Well, fraudster I guess, we worked as a team, taking casinos for all they were worth, using all the tricks, same with street hustling.”

“So, just a petty criminal then.”

“Ouch, petty? I’ll have you know I was wanted in over half the states for this shit.”

“And… you’re with my dad, who’s a cop?”

“Yeah that crap doesn’t matter now, what’s he gonna do, arrest me?”

“Yeah you’ve got a point.”

You handed him a couple more cards, looking to Edith as she moved.

Getting up, you held your arms out to her and picked her up, holding her in one arm as you slapped the card Carl threw back at him.

“I’m going to feed her, you want anything?”

“Yeah, I’ll help.”

You guys made dinner, setting a plate aside for Rick, just in case he came back that night.

While Carl spent time with his sister you washed up and made your way back inside to see him dancing around the living room with her.

“You call that dancing?”

You laughed a little, and you swept Judith into your arms.

“First, it’s always gentlemanly to bow.”

You did a small bow, and he did the same thing, and then you held your palm out to him.

“Put your palm on mine.”

He did, and you began teaching him the steps to a simple dance you had learned a long time ago.

Because of the thunder, you didn’t hear the door opening, and Rick stood against doorway, crossing his arms as he watched the tree of you.

Judith was giggling each time you turned around.

“Where did you learn to dance like this?”

“Would you believe me if I told you that I actually did drama when I was your age? Specialised in Shakespeare.”

“So… like a million years ago?”

“Ouch, okay, you know what Carl Grimes, I thought we were friends, but we’re not.”

He laughed, and you heard a laugh from behind you.

Both of you turned over and he walked over to his dad.

You walked over, handing Rick his daughter back and you smiled at him, gesturing to the kitchen.

“Food ready for you, just need to heat it up.”

“Thanks, I’ll get her to bed then I will.”

“I’ll heat it, you do what you have to do.” You smiled.

Rick went upstairs with Carl, and you went into the kitchen to heat up his dinner for him.

While he was up there he grabbed a shower, changing into some fresh clothes while you were setting his plate on the table.

He came back downstairs, and you were cleaning the kitchen, humming a little to yourself.

He sat down, his chin resting on his hand as he just watched you.

This whole time since the prison you had been with him, you had helped him, supported him, never questioning any of the choices he made.

You had complete faith in him, and here you were, looking after his children for him even though you didn’t have too.

After everything he had done, Rick wasn’t sure how he still had somebody like you.

He had no clue what he did to even deserve somebody like you.

Yet here you were, standing right in front of him, as if the whole world was perfect, and in that moment he could have sworn it was.

“Teach me that dance.”

You turned around, looking at him, then the food he hadn’t touched.

“Eat, then asked again.”

He chuckled, quickly eating his dinner, washing up after himself and he walked into the living room where you were sat.

“Now will you teach me the dance?”

You smiled, getting up.

“First, the gentleman thing to do is bow.”

You bowed, snd he copied you.

You held up your hand, and he placed his palm over yours.

Whatever move you made he did the same thing, his eyes locked with yours as you both slowly danced.

This was it, this was perfect, his eyes focused on yours, everything else seeming nothing but background noise.

Rick slowly moved his hand, intertwining your fingers with his, and he smiled softly, warm eyes focused on yours.

He held a nervous breath as he watched you, and you smiled softly back, copying him

#the walking dead #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead x you #the walking dead x y/n #the walking dead imagine #twd #twd x reader #twd x you #twd x y/n #twd imagine #Rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x y/n #rick grimes imagine

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i-love-ptv · 3 months

Text

You can’t remember how many drinks you’ve had tonight. Everything started getting blurry after the third.

You and your boyfriend had been invited to a get-together at the local pub. Whose idea was it? Farleigh’s? No, he had just thrown a party the other day. Maybe it was Oliver’s suggestion. After all, he was eyeing that brunette the other day. Maybe he was looking for a hook-up.

You don’t know how or when you were in his arms and taken back to his dorm; But what you do know is that your feet hurt from your heels, and that your boyfriend’s bed was calling your name.

The thought of wiping the smudged makeup off of your face flew out the window as soon as your warm head hit the pillow.

But don’t worry, because as soon as he steps through the door, Felix is already rushing to find the makeup remover and cotton pads that he had stored away somewhere on his desk.

He flips you over and begins the process of removing your makeup. He can’t help but smile to himself.

He finds this situation so domestic; despite the deep snores escaping your body.

Felix gently changes you out of your outfit; trying his very hardest not to jolt you awake. You had looked so sleepy before the two of you left.

After putting you in one of his shirts, and cooing you back to sleep after you deliriously called out to him once you had woke up, he quickly strips himself down to his boxers and scoots himself under the covers with you.

He holds you close and coddles your head. He giggles softly at the sight of your small puddle of drool dripping down your face and onto your pillow. He presses a feathery-light kiss to your forehead, and grimaces a bit when he feels a light layer of sweat coating you.

But he grins, knowing that no amount of sweat, dirt, or grime could pull him away from his angel; that he swore, was ‘sent down to earth from heaven, just for him.’

Felix thought that this type of love was only something that one would find in the movies, and god is he so glad that he was wrong.

An: Made this blurb in 20 minutes for you lovelies!

Feedback always appreciated. <333

#divider by florietas #dividers by pommecita #other fic coming soon yall dw #i just need to figure out how to continue it #lee’s ted talks #felix catton #felix catton x reader #felix catton imagine #felix catton x you #jacob elordi #jacob elordi x reader #oliver quick #oliver quick x reader #farleigh start x reader #saltburn

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j3llyd0nut · 5 months

Text

Look at You

ೀ Leon Kennedy x fem!reader

Tags: 18+ (mdni), comfort fic, hurt/comfort, small age gap, mirror sex, pet names (sweetheart, my love, angel, princess), nipple play, fingering, double orgasm (reader), oral (m receiving), piv, unprotected sex, soft dom!Leon, playful banter.

W/C: 2.5k

A/N: can be read as a continuation of Look at Me or standalone (thinking about di & re6 leon while writing this but any ver of him works!)

Amidst the twilight's gentle embrace, Leon fills the tub with warm water for the both of you to cleanse away the grime and stains of the day. The bathroom is filled with the calming scent of lavender bath salts as they dissolve into the warm water, transforming the space into a fragrant haven.

As he waits for the tub to fill with water, he slowly rises from his kneeling position, his joints creaking as he straightens. He leans lightly on the sides of the tub for support, a soft grunt escaping his lips as he eases the strain from his tired muscles.

“Sweetheart?”

He calls out for you, yet you remain unaware as you stand in front of the mirror. Negative thoughts swirl through your mind like a relentless storm. Your gaze fixes on your reflection, but your eyes hold a vacant, unfocused stare.

Approaching you with a silent, practiced grace, he calls out your name once more, his years of training unintentionally guiding his steps deliberately and silently. Too lost in the labyrinth of your own thoughts, a startled gasp escapes your lips as he extends a gentle, reassuring hand to rest on your shoulder.

“You scared me,” you admit, placing a hand over your racing heart after his sudden appearance. Nervously, you begin to fumble with the necklace adorning your neck—a cherished gift from him, a heart-shaped locket engraved with both your initials and his.

“Sorry, my love; a force of habit.” Leon offers you a warm smile and tenderly envelops you in his muscular arms. With a soft and affectionate sigh, he nestles his face into the delicate curve of your neck. “Thoughts too loud tonight?” He murmurs against the nape of it, the soft sensation of your skin beneath his lips prompting a gentle nibble.

“Hmm," you respond, and your gaze rises to meet the reflection in the mirror, where his figure seems to envelop you completely. A warm smile spread across your face as you felt the depth of his affection and presence. The weight of your thoughts begins to lift, and a glimmer of solace breaks through the clouds of your troubled mind.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” he whispers gently as his lips leave a trail of soft kisses along the nape of your neck, each one a sweet declaration of affection. His calloused hands slide down under your shirt, touching your hips in a way that is both tender and seductive. The sensation is a mix of relaxation and intimacy, as he moves his fingers in soothing, circular motions, melting away any lingering tensions.

God, he is perfect.

“This is enough,” you say, shaking your head as you settle back into his embrace, your fingers tenderly tracing patterns over his hands.

“But you’re still tense. Let me help that for you,” he whispers. In truth, you weren’t tense at all; he simply craved a reason to be closer to you after the long day. You release a sigh of surrender. There's no use in resisting him; he's one stubborn man. "Alright, old man," you concede.

“Old man? I’m just a few years older than you,” he chuckles.

“Still old; I heard your knees crack earlier,” you remark, rolling your eyes with a smile.

“Oh, you heard it alright, but when I called your name, you ignored me,” he teases, giving your cheek a playful pinch.

Your smile falters, guilt washing over you. “I didn’t mean to... I just zoned out,” you admit. He observes the not-so-subtle shift in your expression through the mirror and gently guides you to face him. Sensing your uneasiness, he cups your face, prompting you to look up at him. “I know, sweetheart. You don’t have to worry about it,” he reassures, sealing his words with a soft peck on your forehead.

His warm breath is fanning your lips as he comes in closer. “Can I kiss you?” His eyes remain fixed on yours, his voice lowering to a husky whisper. You nod, giving him your consent, and feel the tender touch of his lips meeting yours.

His lips mould with yours, and he scoops you off your feet with effortless strength tinged with tenderness. Swiftly, he places you down on the sink countertop, allowing your ass to perch on the smooth surface.

“You truly are a beauty.”

His eyes are filled with adoration as he gazes at you, utterly captivated by your beauty bathed in the soft, amber glow emanating from the mirror. This gentle radiance delicately highlights your features, creating a luminous aura surrounding you, making you even more captivating in his eyes.

“Really?” Your smile wavers, uncertainty flickering in your eyes as his compliment reaches your ears.

“Angel,” his voice holds a firm tone as he locks eyes with you. “I’ve seen the way guys look at you. Makes me a lucky man to be your boyfriend.” He gently cups your face and playfully squishes your cheeks together.

“Me? No way.” You protest and chuckle softly, feeling your cheeks puff under his gentle hold. Despite the affectionate gesture, another subtle tug of uncertainty lingers within you. You fidget slightly, caught between a desire to embrace his words and your own inner struggle with self-doubt.

“I guess I’ll just have to prove it to you.” With a mischievous smirk, he starts planting a trail of kisses along your neck; each kiss ignites a trail of goosebumps along your skin. His rough hands, filled with urgency, slip underneath the fabric of your shirt, eagerly exploring the warmth of your skin. He skillfully unclips your bra, allowing it to fall away as he gradually removes your shirt and necklace from the fabric without causing any twisting of the chain—ensuring you can keep wearing that precious piece of jewellery.

“So soft.”

Leon leans closer to your chest, his lips grazing against the sensitive skin of your breasts. His tongue flicks out and teasingly traces circles around your nipple, causing it to harden from his ministrations and the cold air from the bathroom.

“Leon, off.” You give a subtle tug on his shirt, urging him to remove it.

“Anything for you, princess.” He chuckles softly and proceeds to remove his shirt, loosening his belt with a single smooth motion. “You’re so demanding sometimes, but that’s what I love about you.” He takes your nipple into his mouth again, sucking and nibbling on it while he pinches and teases the other with his fingers. The sensation made you arch your back, a soft moan escaping your lips.

A smug smirk plays on Leon’s lips, clearly pleased with the impact he's making on you. His hands roam your body, tracing the curves of your sides before settling on the waistband of your pants. With a smooth motion, he slides them off along with both your pants and underwear, cascading them down to the floor.

His fingers graze your sensitive folds, moving them up and down. Your breath hitch in your throat at his touch. “Leon,” you whine, your tone carrying a hint of playful warning. “Be patient, okay? I’ll give you what you want soon.” He tenderly places a gentle kiss on your forehead and continues to tease you.

“Let me make you feel good first.” Leon runs his fingertips along your slick entrance, feeling the heat and wetness pool around them. He then delves his fingers deep, exploring every inch of your velvety walls. He knows where your sensitive spot is, like the back of his hand, increasing his pace as your body responds to his touch eagerly.

Your uncontrollable moan echoes loudly, hands clenching the countertop as waves of pleasure wash over you. Leon watches you intently; his eyes fill with a hunger that matches your own. He knows you are close, so he adds a third finger in you while his thumb circles around your clit, applying the right amount of pressure and speed.

He finally pushes you over the edge with a few more well-placed strokes. You cry out his name as your body convulses, pleasure radiating from your core and spreading throughout your body. While you’re coming down from your high, Leon draws his fingers out and licks off your juices from his fingers.

"You okay?" he whispers, his lips gently brushing against your forehead, his voice carrying a tender concern as he enfolds you into his embrace. “Yeah, just need a moment,” you murmur against his bare chest as you cosy up closer to him. “Take all the time you need,” he chuckles softly, running his fingers through your hair in a soothing gesture.

“Can I return the favour?” you ask, your eyes lifting to meet his with hopeful anticipation. “Sweetheart, you can do anything you want to me,” he smiles warmly as his eyes lock with yours. Without wasting any more time, you drop down to your knees, using your discarded pants as a cushion from the cold and hard tiles.

Your hands reach for his loosened belt and undo it with a sense of urgency. Pulling his jeans down to his ankle, you release his hardened cock from its confines. You wrap your hand around him and stroke him slowly at first, locking eyes with him. Leon watches you intently and nods encouragingly for you to keep going.

His breath catches in his throat as you lean forward, your tongue darting out to lick the pre-cum off his tip. A low groan escapes him as your lips wrap tightly around his cock, and you begin to suck and bob your head, eager to please him.

“Fuck, angel. Your mouth feels so good.” He growls and sets his hand on your hair.

You let out a moan from his praise, and the vibrations from it sending shivers of pleasure through him. You begin to play with his balls as your tongue swirls around his cock, adding an extra layer of pleasure. His hips also begin to move, meeting the rhythm of your bobbing head, driving himself deeper into your mouth.

The wetness and warmth of your mouth, the way your tongue works like magic—Leon knows he’s not going to last long as he can feel the familiar tightening in his lower abdomen signalling his impending release. “Sweetheart, stop. I’m gonna cum,” he hisses, his voice filled with tenderness but also authority. However, that does not stop you as you continue to bob your head up and down.

He calls out your name with a warning tone and bites his lower lip. “I’m serious; I want to come in you.” Your long nails grip tightly on his firm thighs in response; the taste of him and the way he’s filling your mouth only fuel your desires. He growls from the sharp pain of your fingernails and gently tugs you off him by the hair, denying you the satisfaction of completing your task. “I told you to stop, didn’t I?” He smirks at you when he sees your eyes filled with lust and frustration.

He lifts you to your feet and gently spins you around to face the mirror, your hand resting against the cold surface for support, and you can feel his throbbing cock pressing against your inner thigh. “Now, be a good girl and let me do all the work.” A deep, throaty chuckle escapes him as he leans closer, his lips grazing against your ear in a whispered breath.

You nod faintly and let out a sharp gasp as he thrusts into you. As you arch your back against him, he firmly grasps your hips, tightening his hold. His pace is relentless as he drives into you again and again. “Look at you. So pretty just for me,” he smirks, gently guiding your face upward to meet your own reflection in the mirror.

You glance up, noticing your lips slightly swollen from sucking his cock, your eyelids drooping in blissful pleasure. You moan loudly at the sight of him thrusting from behind, the rhythmic motion causing your necklace to sway against your chest with each movement he makes. Leon relishes the sight through the mirror too; with each thrust, he can feel your walls tightening around him—you are close.

You arch your body over the cool surface, which quivers in response to your trembling waves of ecstasy. “No, no, no, sweetheart. I want you to watch yourself while I fuck you,” he carefully guides your jaw back up, his voice husky with desire. You whimper softly, parting your eyes behind your lowered lids. The sound of skin slapping against skin mingles with the heady scents of sweat, sex, and the lingering lavender bath salts, heightening the intensity in the air.

As the climax draws near, a final thrust of his cock and your fervent grinding against him brings you to a powerful release. Your body shudders with ecstasy as you come. Sensing your release, he can't contain himself any longer, his own euphoria crashing over him as he cums in you.

Leon’s chest rises and falls with exertion as he pulls out of you, his cock glistening with a mixture of your cum and his. He watches as you lean against the cool surface, your breaths ragged and heavy from the aftermath. “Just breathe in and out slowly. I’m right here,” he whispers, trailing tender kisses along your exposed back.

You chuckle softly, finding amusement in how delicately he’s caring for you after fucking your guts like an animal in heat. Pausing his kisses upon hearing your chuckle, he questions, “What is so funny?” Propping yourself up on one elbow, hand cradling your head, you tease, “Oh, nothing, old man,” playfully rolling your eyes at him.

“Call me 'old man' again, and I might just toss you into that icy bath," he quips with a playful threat in his tone.

“Old man,” you retort, a wide grin lighting up your face.

“Ah, you’re in for it now,” a mischievous grin spreads across his face as he swiftly lifts you. Caught off guard, you squeal at his sudden movement as he carefully tosses you into the cold water. “Leon!” you pout, pushing your wet hair away from your face in mock annoyance.

Leon laughs so intensely that he doubles over, clutching his stomach, unable to contain the joy bubbling out of him. His laughter echoes the bathroom, shoulders shaking with each joyous outburst, as he finds himself hunched over, thoroughly amused by your expression.

Growing a tad annoyed by his laughter, you grab him and pull him into the large bathtub. His laughter abruptly stops, replaced by a stunned expression on his face. "Payback," you say, flashing him a smug smile.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry, princess. You win," he chuckles, offering your lips a light peck as a peace offering.

“You’re lucky; you’re cute,” you respond, returning the kiss.

“Hmph, so now I’m cute,” he snorts, breaking away from the kiss.

"Get up, let's hop into a warm shower together. Can’t risk my girl catching a cold," he says, playfully rolling his eyes while still smiling. He rises to his feet and extends his hand towards you.

You gaze at him, your eyes twinkling mischievously. "Carry me," you request with a playful pout, gesturing towards your slightly sore backside because of him. "Alright," he chuckles, effortlessly scooping you up and heading towards the shower, well aware that he'll need to indulge your eagerness later to scrub him with the cherry blossom body scrub you've been so excited to use on him for days.

#✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ ˚#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy #resident evil #death island leon #resident evil 6 leon

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stsgluver · 7 months

Text

NOTHING NEW – gojo satoru

synopsis. gojo coming home at 1:43am (nothing new)

wc. 1.5k

tags. fluff <3333, not proofread bc i’m lazy

“baby? hey, i’m home.” there’s a light brush against your nose as gojo gently knocks his against yours, his voice coaxing you out of your sleep. instinctively, your hands reach out to him and he responds by taking both your wrists in his hands to press light kisses to the palm of your hands. butterflies flutter inside of you from the sheer delicateness that your boyfriend handles you with; the same hands capable of unimaginable destruction cradling you like you’re the most fragile ornament. you almost fall back to sleep from the feather-like touches.

gojo had been sent away on a mission, as he so often is, but for once it was fairly local to your apartment so you’d told him you’d stay up for him (even though he insisted he would rather you slept). however, it seemed that as the number of curses increased and their torment escalated, you were seeing gojo less and less and you missed him. he was the love of your life after all, he was meant to be the centre of your universe, not just another planet orbiting your story.

even for just an additional five minutes of his time, you would always wait for him.

so, even though the clock read 01:43am and you want nothing more than to curl up further into the plush sofa, you force yourself to open your eyes. gojo is inches away from your face, blindfold and uniform still on, but you can still feel his gaze on you. it’s full of love and adoration and appreciation. he’s so used to people leaving him and yet here you are on a night when he knows you’ve got work in the morning.

his lips are quirked up as he takes in your pile of blankets and uneaten snacks you had kitted yourself out with in your (unsuccessful) plan to stay awake by watching movies (you think you made it through at least one but you can’t be entirely sure).

“hi,” you whisper quietly, shifting your hands from his loose hold to cup his face. despite the fact he’s on the floor on his knees in front of you and you’re now sat upright on the sofa, he still towers above you, and you have to crane your neck up to be able to see all of his face. his pale skin is smooth under your touch and so so cold and you could only imagine the abandoned school or hospital he’d been sent to, shattered windows and a crumbling infrastructure.

“the bed’s more comfy, y’know,” gojo flashes you one of his usual carefree grins. his movements are slower than usual as he brushes a stray strand of hair away from your face and you know he’s just as tired as you are. you don’t voice your concerns – he’d dismiss them anyways (“i’m the strongest” and all that) – but your thumb gently brushes back and forth as your eyes scan every inch of skin visible to you in the dim light, searching for any scratches or wounds. there never is any.

you shake your head with a quiet hum, “not without you.” there’s a falter in his smile and you know that if you could see his eyes right now, you’d see the softness and vulnerability – a side of himself he’ll only ever be with you. there’d be guilt too – guilt that he’s not there enough and that you’re living half the life that you should be.

“i’m here now,” he sighs quietly and presses one single peck to your forehead. the two of you hold still for a moment, noses brushing against one anothers and breaths intermixing as you just bask in the other’s presence. despite the sweat and grime ruining his clothes, gojo still smells of your favourite cologne and sweets. it’s familiar and smells more like home than the apartment ever could when he’s not there.

it’s peaceful, something he rarely gets to experience nowadays. his joints ache from their constant use and lack of sleep so kneeling before you isn’t ideally what he should be doing, but it’s what he needs if it means to be this close to you.

you lift your head up slightly, just enough to be able to brush your lips against his. it only takes a second before he’s kissing you back more firmly, the barely-there-touches not enough. the kiss is slow and sweet and filled with unspoken affirmations of love.

he only pulls away to breathe and god you wish you could see those blue eyes right now. maybe they’d be staring at your lips, or your own eyes or maybe they’d be closed as he indulged himself in the sparks that your kisses left behind.

pressing one more kiss to his lips, nose, then cheek, you nod your head to the hallway, “can we get ready for bed?”

gojo’s blindfold shifts as he furrows his brows. “you can go to bed, i’ll join you in a minute baby.” his large hand pats down your hair, frizzy from sleeping on the sofa’s cushions. “you’re half asleep,” he adds with a slight tease as your head instinctively drops into his touch, eyes fluttering closed.

“if you think i’m leaving you for a second, you’re an idiot gojo satoru,” you blindly swat at his chest in response of such an outrageous offer. how dare he think the two of you can exist in the same apartment and not be less than a feet away from each other?

gojo chuckles under his breath and took your wrist into his hand, holding it over his heart. “i love you.”

your eyes open and you can’t stop yourself from grinning – like the man before you isn’t your boyfriend of years, like you’re both teenagers again confessing for the first time, “i love you more, toru.” if it were any other night he’d fake offence, starting up a playful argument in which he would emphasise that that was in fact a lie. you’d never be able to comprehend how much he truly loves you. but this isn’t any other night; this is tonight and after three nights without, he thinks he’ll give you this one.

the first thing you do once you’re both in the bathroom is lift off his blindfold, dropping it into the laundry basket next to the sink. you left the main bathroom light on so you are having to rely on the light from the hallway and the moon that spills in through the window.

gojo winces slightly still at the use of his eyes with no barrier between him and the world. you press what you hope is a comforting kiss to his jawline as you silently continue with your own routine – removing any remnants of make up and plaiting your hair.

this is usually how it goes: the two of you simple co-existing as gojo finally lets his guard down, his body finally realising the overuse and lack of energy it had been running on. then, once you’ve pat your damp face down with a towel, you help gojo with his minimal skincare routine.

“satoru,” you say once you’ve almost finished rubbing the moisturiser into his porcelain skin.

“yes, gorgeous?” he hums quietly, the ghost of a smile on his face as he looks down at you.

“i love you.”

he’s giddy when he kisses you again, dipping down so you don’t have to try and reach his height. the kiss only lasts several seconds but it didn’t need to last any longer for you not to feel all the emotions behind it; the ‘i’m sorry i’m not here enough’s; the don’t give up on me’s; the ‘please always be here when i come home’s.

“never stop.” it’s not a demand from the world’s strongest sorcerer, it’s a plea from your tired and lonely boyfriend.

several minutes later and the two of you are curled up in your sheets together. your legs are hooked together as you face each other. initially, you had tried telling him quietly about your day, something to take his mind off of whatever horrors he had experienced whilst away, but your quiet voiced melted into whispers, and your whispers into light snores as you slipped easily into an unconscious state.

“night my love,” gojo ghosts his hand over your cheek and body as his eyes take mental screenshots of every inch of you. he wouldn’t sleep tonight. tonight is all about ensuring that you are okay. he’d never openly admit to the overwhelming fear he experiences every time he leaves you alone – you, gojo satoru’s (the strongest sorcerer alive) girlfriend. he is untouchable, however you are everything but.

so tonight he’d stay awake, to hold you and to whisper sweet nothings as you shift in your sleep unbeknownst because, for as long as he is there, you are safe.

a/n. honestly not my fav bit of writing I've ever done but I found it in my drafts and I did like SOME bits so here you go. next thing I post will either be the next part of snapshot or take me back to before :)

#— toru!!#satoru #gojo drabbles #gojo x reader #gojo #gojo satoru #gojou satoru x you #gojo fluff #gojou satoru #jjk #jjk gojo

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rabbittwist · 1 year

Text

Harsh Directive

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader

Summary: Holy shit this Drabble took way too long to make.

Word Count: I don’t even know.

MASTERLIST | Simon “Ghost” Riley

WARNING [blindfold, fingering, orgasm denial, rough sex, doggy style, creampie, creaming, slight knife play, slight choking kink, long drabble]

Operation: Via was a success.

The harsh week of cold and rain had settled in your gear nicely, your firearms in desperate need of a cleaning, and your knives looking pitifully dull. Your skin felt dry, covered in a layer of grime from not having a shower in so long, and your hair was definitely greasy, and flatter than when you had left. You needed a wash, some food, and resting time to get yourself back in order. Sure, the carrier gave you two of those three things, but the comfort of base was calling your name and singeing itself well into your brain; your own bed, your own food, your own— well, semi your own, shower— were the only things that would satisfy you, and you were willing to wait the next 3 hours of flight to reach your gratification.

You silently sat with your arms crossed and legs spread, leaning back into the aisle chair while purposefully pressing your back into the buckle to keep yourself in discomfort. You were refraining yourself from dozing off, maintaining a kink-free neck and back from the horrid sleeping posture you would surely put yourself in; you refuse to go through that torture ever again — training with a sore spine was a bigger pain than what you had anticipated, and the aftercare was difficult to manage when it’s just you massaging the bolts out of your neck and back. You grimaced at the memory of barely being able to climb out of bed and slide your uniform on, slowly gazing up to the roof while holding in a chuckle from the next flashback of almost falling while shoving your pants on.

Your eyes fixated on the lights above that lit the fuselage in a dim glow, aircraft nets swinging gently with the plane and knocking on the walls with soft clatters. It was quiet, unusually quiet, until you heard a loud snore croak in front of you and being followed up with another. Quirking a brow, you turned your attention to your front and on Gaz and Soap, who were completely knocked out in the seating across from yours. Gaz’s arms slumped crossed, and had his head tilted down to his twined legs, while Soap was widely spread and fully tilted back towards the ceiling.

Had it been any other situation, you would’ve laughed at the sight of their drooling faces and horrible postures, but the overwhelming drowsiness took over your complete being and left you oddly calm and collected. Just the sight of them made you envious of their sleep, but you would rather be safe than sorry in the long run during one of Price’s excruciating trainings. You blinked slowly away from the sight and to the cockpit doors, fighting the urge to nod off and instead pinching yourself with your vest’s clasps.

“Arrival will be in two hours. Weather is gloomy with possible heavy rain, so prepare for a stroll, lads. Again, arrival will be in two hours. Out.”

Price’s voice disturbed you aware, leaving you a bit more alive and conscious from the startling overcom. The static undertone helped waken your eyes as you heard it go in and out, tired tears pearling into your lashes from the sudden energy surge to stay aware, and soon being wiped away by your scarf. You felt lightly gleeful that home was so close, only needing to remain awake for— counting the time it would take to walk, as well— 2 and a half hours. You could do that.

A small smile formed on your lips, a hand bringing your scarf up to cover it and allow the subtly present scent of your detergent to sink in through your nose. Home. You were going to be home. You wouldn’t have to smell like dried blood and muddy earth anymore, or have to wear it on display. Until your next mission, of course. Either way, you were just glad you’d be going to base soon, and get the well deserved rest you needed.

A rough shot of cognizance rattled through your spine, your hands stiffening and the smile you had deflating as your hairs stood at attention. Your left side felt completely vulnerable all of a sudden, and you felt deeply discomforted by the abrupt exposure, now shifting in your seat to gain some comfort back. Your whole side burned. You felt every layer of protection cease to exist under the blazing stir that set on what felt like your very skin. You were being watched, and definitely not with sweet eyes.

You didn’t need to guess where it was coming from, or who the unforgiving glower belonged to — Soap and Gaz were out, and Price was in the bridge, so that left one out of the four personnel that could be watching you like an angry hawk. And to think you would have a happy time home.

You knew you wouldn’t get away with the stunt you pulled, despite hoping he would brush it off eventually. How could he? He never neglects your wrongs. He never lets your blunders slip by. He never forgets.

You knew it all too well.

Let’s just hope you make it out alright this time.

You were in deep shit the moment you set foot into base. The way your name instantly shot through the room when Ghost snapped for you to come see him tensed the whole squad, already knowing what the issue pertained to. You didn’t need to look back to acknowledge they were all sending weary eyes your way.

“I’ll get your whiskey ready, Hops.”

“Thanks, ‘Tavish. I’m gonna need it.”

Taking your time to get to the door, you threw your gear into a room on the way and let your hair down from its bun. The tingling sensation of your relaxed scalp gave you a short peace of mind as you massaged the sore muscles and succumbed to a false happy place. You thought of all the nice things you’d partake in now that you were home — a nice shower, some cooked food, and your own bed to nap in now that there were no missions to fling yourself into. How you would all sit around the living room and converse about stories of the past, like how they got their scars, type of thing, as you drank the better-than-nothing whiskey for where you were. Ghost barked gratingly for the second time, his voice sharper, louder — filled with impatience, and knocked you straight out of your comforting haven. You felt your nerves pile onto the tip of your tongue, biting your lower lip to sooth the hard beating of your organs, and making your way to your superior.

You passed through the living quarters and down the long hall towards the debriefing room, quietly wishing you could turn around and pretend like you didn’t hear as you watched the comforting bedroom lights glow teasingly into the corridor. You had blinked, just once, and magically appeared in front of the open door that led straight to your doom. You were an anxious mess, fumbling with your gloves as you pulled them off and set them on the counter just beside the door. Taking a deep breath, you began to reason with yourself, mumbling incoherent encouragements to get you to go into the room and power your way through whatever he would yell at you for. Come on, White, you got this. At least you aren’t at Death’s door.. I hope.

The door slammed shut behind you when you had eventually entered, your heart stammering from the harsh snap of wood-on-wood. It felt like you had left reality and entered the dark dungeons of Hell from how drastic the atmosphere shifted. Not even the light felt the same as it blinked inside from the covered windows, nor the speckles of dust that would cascade down to the floor. You focused on your breathing despite your lungs want to collapse from the underlying fear that now set the scene. They practically did when you felt the looming presence of a ghost standing just a few feet away from your back, and deathly silent rage surrounding you like a cloud of toxin.

You need to relax.

You grazed your eyes over to the center table, signature black gear already laid across it with dissected guns and removed armor plates. They looked to have just been cleaned and reapplied with oil, but the finish looked rather rushed and almost careless from how he set every part across the counter. The sight made a cold shudder slither up your spine; Ghost always took care of his artillery, never using rushed hands and little thought when cleaning and placing pieces. You had gotten to him. Bad.

You tore your eyes away from the table and burned them straight ahead, the sound of heavy boots slowly prowling close catching your attention and flooding your veins with mixed apprehension. You recognize that gait, know those boots. Oh fuck..

There was a clipping sound paired with rustling fabric before you saw his vest get tossed by the table with a loud clatter. You flinched at the raucous noise, standing even firmer at attention despite the soft look you tried to portray and mitigate your angered superior.

“Would you like me to put your stuff away with mine?” You asked with a built sweetness. What good would this do? Dig your grave a little deeper? Might as well and try to knock two birds with one stone; ease the tension, ease the Lieutenant.

“You defied a direct order.” He uttered, the underlying reverb in his throat startling your overly aware nerves as his boots heaved on the floor with every step behind you.

You grimaced at the failed attempt to improve the situation, your shoulders tightening and your hands becoming clammy. When you saw the back of his cotton warmer, his steps ceasing after appearing meters in front of you, you audibly sighed, “If we didn’t get those vials then, we would’ve never been able to ransack like that again.”

“You think I give a bloody fuck?” His tone reached deep into his chest, his head snapping just barely to the side. It was a silent command to stand and shut the fuck up.

You snapped your mouth closed, watching as the Lieutenant peered down to a hand and flexed it out to rid the tension in his burly toned arm; he looked as if he would be flexing out claws, his large hands twitching from the urge to grab you and slam you against the wall to teach you a lesson. He was shaking, even just slightly, and was positively fuming for your disregard of his command and jumping straight into a no-coms zone. He had no clue if you’d come back to him either just as you were, or in a fucking casket. “If I see you dead, (Y/n), I swear to whatever bloody fuckin’ god is up there that I’ll be proper fuckin’ shit-pissed. Stay alive. Don’t you dare come back to me strung up in medals.”

He turned fully towards you, his broad frame blocking the incoming light from the window behind him. You looked two sizes smaller than Ghost — his body could fully cover you from view — the size difference enforcing intimidation without even mentioning his burning anger.

"I gave you an order, White." He stalked towards you, every agonizing step forcing you back on instinct, "You don't just ignore your superior's orders— especially not in this line of business."

You bumped into something solid and stopped, your eye contact with the black-suited soldier imposing on your soul and bleeding out with your incoming submission, "I'm sorry, Ghost, I really am. But if we didn't get those vials—"

His fist slammed right next to your head and into whatever you backed up against, your words hitching in your throat as a cracking noise came from the object behind you.

"I don’t care about the fuckin' vials, Rabbit."

You felt your heart practically rip out of your chest with every beat, your eyes wide and your hands pressed flush against the now cracked wall with your back. Your mind screamed at you to run away, acting on your prey instincts from the threatening presence in the room. Yet, you remained silent, unmoving as the Lieutenant’s eyes bore into yours, daring you to take a step away like he knew what you were thinking.

“Do you remember what I asked of you,” Ghost pierced through your ears with an alarmingly rich sonorous hum, “when I had you flush against my door, right on your pretty little knees?”

You felt a boiling heat rush throughout your body, your eyes snapping open even wider in full awareness. The scent of cigarettes and husky cologne was more potent now that he was so close to your figure, a mixture of dirt and old blood evident in his musk.

It practically clouded your senses, a dazed look setting in your eye as the oh-so familiar scent plunged deep into your lungs, yet you still conjured up whatever shitty pride you had left against your dire situation, “Sir, please.. This isn’t the time.”

He grimaced down at your audacity, his accent flaring with obvious fire, “Fuckin’— Do you remember what I asked of you?”

You couldn’t hold eye contact any longer, your embarrassment overpowering your confidence and causing your head to turn away. Yes, you remembered. You remembered the whole ordeal.

The way he shakily purred your name as you bobbed your head up and down his length with soft teary eyes and a constantly bulging throat. How he forced a hand through your hair as he leaned all his built weight into the other, curling his body above you and into his skillfully tattooed arm as he stroked your locks carefully. This was different. This was sensual. He wasn’t rough, and his touches were all filled with the utmost delicate attention like he was handling one of his most precious weapons.

You let out a short, uneasy scoff, trying to divert the perverted memory, “What does that have to do with any of this?”

He flashed you a hard glare, your hope of him going along with your words disappearing instantaneously. When he knew you were firmly silenced, his voice cut through the quiet like a knife through butter, “I’m going to ask you one last time. Do you or do you not remember what I asked of you?”

“.. Of course I do,” You meekly gave in, your eyes scathing back up his body and to his gaze, “That was the last time we were alone together before Op: V.”

He gently combed his fingers through your hair as you continued to suck and lick, focusing on his veined v-line that kept going back and forth with every thrust of your head. He let out a rough groan as your tongue swept along the underside of his sex, his body visibly shuddering as he mumbled, “God damn it, love..” and gripping his supporting hand into a tight fist. He began to snarl incoherent praises, saying how good you were for him, and how he was so lucky to have you assigned under him as his rookie.

"Bun," He inquired, jaw clenching as his eyes gazed down at you with glints of abnormal longing, "Come back to me in one piece— bloody hell, please."

“Then why did you risk it?”

You curled your hands up behind you, looking at anything but him in an effort to ignore the question. You had no option, however, when Ghost called your name with a chilling rasp, your arms becoming littered with goosebumps as your hair stood on edge.

"It's.. It's just.."

You could feel his eyes spark with curiosity at your stutter, finding your nervous form a rare sight, and savoring it with every look over. Despite this, he remained firm with heavy superiority behind every word, "’s just what, White?"

".. I didn't want to get in trouble." You whispered, afraid the whole world would hear your confession.

The room went dead quiet, so much so you swore you could feel the air thicken and begin to choke you through each breath you took. Ghost had froze. He froze with a blank stare straight into your eyes, like he was processing word for word what you said. I fucked up, I fucked up, I fucked up, your mind repeated, never once breaking from his swirling gaze. You had no clue what he was thinking, what the subtle glints in his eyes meant as they showered around your body in tantalizingly slow look overs. You wanted him to say something, anything to keep you from basking in the silence and spiraling yourself into an overthinking mess.

You abruptly flinched as he pulled his head away from yours, his voice vibrating in a low pitch and deepening his accent, "What did you say?"

"I didn't want to get in trouble.." You repeated, gulping down a chunky lump in your throat.

He took another moment of pure silence before slowly peeling himself off you. You gawked after him as he went to trudge across the room towards his strewn about gear, looking through it with haste as you remained stuck to the wall. You stood in utter confusion, wondering what in the world was going to happen, until he snapped his fingers and pointed down by his side without giving you a single glance; "Here." You, of course, followed his instruction, and walked up quietly behind him to his side all the while picking at your fingers in nervous habit. You didn’t like not knowing what would happen next, and it seemed like everything he did was to play on your discomfort, taking his sweet yet rushed time to gather whatever he was seeking.

"Trying to get yourself out of trouble is what gets you in trouble. Fuckin' shit, White— you should know this by now."

You felt like a private all over again, being scolded by the second lieutenant during training for doing something slimly out of line, "I'm sorry, Ghost.."

He snapped his head towards you, giving you a scowl through his eyes like that was the last thing you should've said, "Sayin’ sorry won't fix anything when you're fuckin' dead."

You clamp your mouth shut as Ghost turned back to the table, pulling out one of his black cloths from a vest pocket. You were beyond anxious from each of his rushed actions, watching him flick the cloth out of its folds and holding it between his hands.

He turned to face you, watching you examine the black fabric in his hands with wide doe eyes, “Turn around.”

Without wanting to make matters worse, you comply and face your back towards him with a shaky turn. You hear his boots thud against the floor as he comes straight up to your behind, his close presence causing your back to feel oddly sensitive despite the zero contact. It worsened as you felt his firm chest graze your shoulder blades when he leaned forward, his breath seeping into your ear through his balaclava.

“Close your eyes.”

You felt a shiver creep nerve-by-nerve through your system, and how your whole spine became pleasurably tender from marinating in his close-up musk. Your eyes closed with the single flutter of your lids, your adrenaline accelerating from your lack of sight and creating a blissfully heavy sensation in your core.

You gently twitched when you felt what you assumed to be his arms graze past your shoulders, and place the black cloth over your eyes before tying it off securely behind your head. You didn’t dare remove it, and instead embraced the enhanced senses you were given, feeling every vein that split through and around his exposed forearms, and hear every low breath from behind his skull coverings.

“‘Only you were this well behaved on the mission. It’s really a shame, White.. qui-te the shame.”

You let your body tremble as his hands trailed painfully slow down your neck and to the dip in your back, his gloved fingertips grazing your quivering figure with rare delicacy. You relished in the rare attention, involuntarily leaning into his warmth with a soft, shaky sigh passing through your lips from the contact. You missed him. You missed all of him. His body was not something you could see yourself without, and that whole mission was absolute torture; running around to get the job done with little to no time with your ghost. The first night without him went fine, but after the second?

You were both aching for touch. It was becoming impossible to stay curled in your tents, and the overwhelming need for one another’s bodies burned your very cores with hot desire. One thing led to another and you both had your earbuds in, dialed on a private line, and letting yourselves confess your needy desires to the dark heavens above.

“Raise your arms above your head.”

You did as you were told, shakily lifting your arms straight up to the ceiling. His hands removed themselves from your sides and went for your wrists, bringing your arms behind your head and wrapping them around his neck. It stretched your body out nicely, his height forcing you on the balls of your feet and to the tips of your toes just to adjust with the position. Your fingers felt on something soft, something warm gliding under your tips as you stroked down the fabric material. The soft surface subtly rose with bumps as your nails lightly scratched what you remembered as his nape, feeling his locks peak out from under the balaclava, and gently feeling for it. A thick vein trailed up the side of his throat and caressed your exposed wrist, your pulse radiating with his at the sensation of his firm flesh. You were anxious, yet you could allow the Lieutenant to do as he pleased when he brought his palms down to your stomach.

You began dreading the blindfold, wanting to see everything he was doing to you, “Ghost.. Why do I have to wear this cloth?”

His tone reverberated along his throat in a growlish pitch, “So you can understand exactly what I saw when you went into that bloody building.”

“But I don’t see—”

His fingers dug into your v-line and forced a whimper from your chest, his voice burning low, violent, “That’s the fuckin’ point. I didn’t see anything, not a proper fuckin’ thing when you went into that warehouse.”

He leaned in close to your ear, his breath nipping against your shell with every hot exhale, “You’re going to feel exactly what I felt. You’re going to see exactly what I saw. Only you put yourself in this position, and you’re going to sit your ass through it just as I did.”

“Do I make myself clear, Sergeant?”

“Yes, Ghost—”

His grip tightened painfully through your warmers, a hiss falling with your sudden intake of air and shutting you up.

“It’s either yes Lieutenant, or yes sir.. You’ve forgotten your place, White, so you’re goin' to live in it until I see fit. So again, do I make myself fuckin’ clear, Sergeant?”

Had it not been for his leather gloves and your cotton warmer, you knew his nails would've punctured through your skin with how tight his grip on your body was. Did you wish that was the case? Abso-fucking-lutely.

You let his rough handling of you coax an answer from your lips as you finally gave in, your soft voice wavering in defeat, "Yes, Lieutenant.."

"Atta' girl.. Such a good obedient thing when you want ta’ be, ain't that right?"

Oh, if your insides weren't clenching before, they were definitely clenching now. It sounded so dirty, like he stripped you clean of any human title and dubbed you almost like a pet. The blindfold was tied snug against your eyes, unrelenting with how tight your heat was clinging to your insides, or how it made being called a good obedient thing by the predator behind you turn your mind into liquid. You could feel how his body encased your own, and how his skin was burning hot, muscles completely flexed and solid in restraint to keep himself together.

You sucked in a deep breath when you felt his big hands trail down to the buckle of your belt and slowly unclip it, "L—Lieutenant..?"

With a harsh tug, the belt came straight out of your pants and right to the floor, "'Won't be needin' this."

Picking up the bottom of your cotton shirt, he raised it up and over your chest, letting the hem rest messily along your collarbone as he pulled his hands fully off your body. You were stood right against his hard frame, your pants now unbuttoned and zipped down, and your pretty abdomen and covered tits on full display.

His gloved hands grazed down your neck and over your perking breasts, giving them little attention as he continued to trail his cold gloves along your warming skin. You wish he’d rip open your bra and pinch your nipples with unrelenting roughness, but when his leather palms glazed over your v-line, right over your panty line, you wiped that thought clean out of your head with a gentle sigh.

As if sensing your shifting emotions, he clicked his tongue and set his hands just on the hem of your cargo pants with a strict sneer, "Sergeant, keep yourself together."

You let out a shaky response, his firm command urging out a submission of acknowledgment, "Yes, sir."

“That’s my girl. My good, pretty little girl.. I think we should get started with your punishment."

His fingers made their way through your pants and straight to your clothed cunt, his gloves snagging gently against the silky fabric of your panties. His sudden assault caused a flinch to ripple through your body, your mind asking to any god above if this was truly what he said it would be right before he began his torture. You let out a soft squeak when you felt pressure begin to push against your covered slit, drawing small circles on the tip of your clit with his middle finger as it nestled right between your puffy cameltoe.

"Feels fuckin' good, doesn't it?" He murmured, keeping his other hand pinning your ass against his hips.

"Feelin' so right and perfect on my fingers.. Just how I felt when you followed and obeyed under my command like nothing could go wrong."

Noticing your pussy begin to grind against his fingers, he scoffed, settling his hardening arousal right against your ass, "Fuckin' hell..”

He let you continue to move your hips, his mask shifting right against the side of your cheek all the while he savored how your plump rear would shift and press against his thickening sex. He missed this. He missed you. How every morning you'd greet him with such warm eyes, and how every night you'd welcome him into your gushy insides with the most submissive pleas and cries. When you would whine and beg to be stuffed full of nothing but his thick cock, or when you’d put on something that begged for his instincts to grab you and taint your flesh and blood with nothing but him. It practically made him feral at just the remembrance.. But, as much as he wanted to indulge himself, Ghost knew he couldn't let you off the hook, not after firing him up and really showing how scary a tosser could be when it came to his woman.

"'s just like this, yeah? Seeing nothin', absolutely fuck all, and left with the pleasure of knowin' you're alright— knowin' you're in ear's length of coms."

With the increase of pressure on your hardened pearl, and the rougher grind of his large finger circling the pulsing nub, he began to push the little restraint you had on your voice, and forcing quiet groans and mewls past your trembling lips.

"'Felt so good— so fuckin' perfect, like nothin' could wrong me as long as you listened and stayed in contact."

All your mind could focus on was the overwhelming growth of slick and lust forming straight into your guts, and the death pulsing grip the Lieutenant had on your bruising skin. Your bucking hips became desperate, your need to feel your knot grow and snap intruding and releasing your lustful pheromones in the air like an animal searching for a mate— or better yet, to mate— and clinging to every little thing.

"And every single time you answered my call.. It was like music to my ears, Bun. 'Couldn't see you, yet could feel your hot breath right in my ear like you were fuckin' there, right stood next to me, just as it should've been."

You let out a strained gasp when you felt his finger push your panties away from your drooling cunt and forcing itself inside, the palm of his hand rubbing circles over your clit in his finger's stead. The grip you had on his balaclava disappeared, only for your fingers to run straight under the fabric and shakily grab at his hair to somewhat ground your slushing brain. His finger felt like it was stretching you out already, the leather glove aiding in the attack as his digit went in and out, curled and uncurled. You were getting drunk on just his hand, your back arching off Ghost's body as shocks of wrecking pleasure pulsed through your very bones.

A purr-like growl began to rumble inside his throat, his eyes never once leaving the sight of his hand stuffed down your trousers and finger fucking your weeping pussy, “It felt just like how you’re feeling now— so full and right. So euphoric to know you were right under the palm of my hand, and that nothing would come to stop us from getting home.”

You felt your tongue push past your lips when he injected another finger into your clenching hole, shoving right against your flexing cunt, “F—Fuck!”

His hand suddenly stopped moving, earning a needy whine from your pathetically crumbling body, “Watch your fuckin’ mouth, Sergeant. If I hear another swear out of you, I’ll leave you as the dumb mess you are right on that couch.”

You felt your eyes widen behind the black cloth, needy pleas and cries straining for his continuous touch, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I’ll behave, I promise!”

With a cocky smirk, he gradually began to set his pace back into your sex, sloppy ‘thank you’s and ‘more’s croaking from your drying throat, “Good girl.”

Your hips began to spasm, the tight knot you’ve been craving for forming at a rapid pace as his fingers hit knuckles-deep into your cunt. Your eyes began to roll up and become half-lidded, drool seeping down the corner of your lip when you let out a short cry from your pussy suddenly quivering and gripping around Ghost’s fingers.

“Bloody fuckin’ hell, Bun— are you gonna cum already?” He mused, rubbing his palm harder against your hot clit.

You couldn’t even focus on what he was taunting over, being too caught up in the boiling heat that hit over and over against your insides. You were about to snap, your muscles contracting and retracting rapidly as your body convulsed. The hold you had on his hair was hard, your nails digging into his scalp with a vice grip, and the foggy look you gave to the blindfold screaming for release.

Ghost rubbed the hard edge of his mask right against your cheek, the pad of his thumb caressing your bruised hips in a forged comfort, “'Felt the same way when I heard you call in after my every order. How it felt so fuckin' warmin' to have you submit whenever I needed to hear your confirmation— without your daft tongue."

A harsh spike of snapping thread spread throughout your womb, flooding your lower half in fuzz and intense heat as your cervix quivered with every involuntary clench. You felt panic rise into your lungs, finding it harder and harder to keep your panting under control as you realized your ending point was being fucked out of you quicker than normal.

You slurred over every word, spreading your thighs out wider as your jaw began to tighten, "Cumming— Lieutenant, I'm gonna— no, I'm gonna—!”

His voice burled deep and rough, the accent you oh-so adored sounding like Satan’s damned temptation, “But then, oh then, did that comfort crumble right through my fingers.”

Just when you felt your eyes roll back into your head, your body fully prepared for your stuttering womb to snap, his touch disappeared in an instant, and the overflowing high that was soon to tip over washing away gruesomely fast. You were left empty, hollowed even, with how quick the change was as your body adjusted to being denied its pleasure. You were left in shock. What the hell just happened?

You could hear the devilish taunt of his voice as you glared into darkness with helpless teardrops forming in your eyes, “You really thought I’d let you burst, White? Bloody fuck, you’ve really been spoiled rotten.”

You sniffed as drops of your pearling tears fell from your eyes, “Th—That’s not fair..”

He couldn’t help the amused scoff that found its way through the mask, his hands grasping your luscious waist in a rough clutch, “'Didn’t tell you to talk.”

“I did what I had to do!”

He snapped, “Watch it, Sergeant.”

The commanding bark quieted your pleads, your sniffs and silent whimpers remaining as your only hope to get what you needed. You pressed your thighs back against his legs, trying to press more of your body into him as an offering, even going as far as to grind your ass against his dense arousal— you were acting like a bitch in heat, and it was getting to the point where even Ghost couldn’t see straight anymore from how slutty you were acting for his dick.

In one rapid moment, you could feel the leather covered fingertips hook around the front of your bra just milliseconds before it came ripping right off your torso. You gasped from his brute strength forcing your bra to come apart in his hands, the weight of your tits forcing out a small whimper of need before you felt the cool fabric of gloves cup the underside of your mounds in a firm hold.

"'Missed these slutty tits and how they fit into my hands just right. 'nd the way your nipples—" He finally brought his attention to your teats, giving them a painful pinch and pull, "— were always so excited to see me.."

You felt the hard skull covering press into the space between your neck and shoulder, listening to him take a deep inhale of your warm scent, "Damn proper perfection, and it's all for me to fuck and break."

You press further into his broad frame, your back flush against his snug fitted warmer. You couldn't get enough of him; you needed more with every passing second, and now with him practically milking your breasts with how he kept pulling and twisting your nipples, you were hopelessly in need of Ghost.

Your heart jarring to keep up with a healthy pace in spite of your embarrassment, you sputtered, "Please punish me more.."

A low chuckle vibrated through his chest, pulling his head back from your shoulder as one of his hands left your tit and grazed it up between your breasts to gently touch your neck, "Punishment isn't meant to be pleasurable, Sergeant."

You tilted your head to the side, allowing his fingers to brush against your pulse and lay comfortably around your throat, “I can’t help it when it’s you punishing me..”

He impulsively allowed his hand to wrap around your supple neck, that small ounce of control he had left finally splitting as his voice dropped down heavy octaves, "You're asking for it now, Bun.."

Swiftly, he released your throat and tore the blindfold right off your head, not giving your eyes a moment to adjust before grabbing onto the back of your bruising nape and pushing you towards the center of the room. You were tripping over your own feet to keep up with his large strides, your legs getting caught up with his in an intertwined mess. Your heart was beating in your ears and your mind was running wild with the varying scenarios that could play out right in this room like the many times before. You were practically dripping at the thought of being manhandled and fucked so stupid that you wouldn't be able to walk for the next few days— hopefully the next few weeks. You might even get your wish with how hasty he was being to get you into place just for him to abuse and litter with his crazed ardor. You brought your hands down to keep yourself steady when he finally got you into a comfortable spot; you were faced right in front of the coffee table, your eyes once again staring at his carelessly thrown about equipment.

Taking no more time to waste, he brutally shoved all his equipment off the table, and slammed your front onto the now clear countertop, breasts down, ass up. You gasped from suddenly being thrown around like a doll, hitting straight onto the wood with a slight bounce, and your pliable flesh rippling from the impact. You could feel the harsh coolness of the wood rub into your nipples, your breasts painfully aroused as your innocent nubs continued to tighten and perk.

In one jarring movement, Ghost had your pants down past your ankles, and your panties left disheveled on your blemished hips with heavy impatience. For the second time, he froze — even if it was only for a split second, you felt it. His hand flinched with a sudden stop against your naked thigh when he began to retract, and the hard breathing that echoed around the soldier had grown quiet for just that moment.

It was proper fucking magic. The way the straps of your underwear perfectly dipped into your glistening flesh, and how your puffy cameltoe was deliciously accentuated by the soft fabric of your cotton panties. It only made his mind spiral helplessly into a feral slop of what it once was, the remembrance of needing to punish you completely forgotten and thrown to the back of his mind. The hunger to ruin your full being was fucking with his brain to where even he was losing his cool.

Like countless times before, he retracted his knife from his chest holster and slammed the 11 inch MTECH right into the oak table, blistering up the surrounding wood layers. He engraved it right in front of your eyes, the brutal sound of the blade ripping straight into the countertop ringing in your ears as you watched his hand linger for just a moment to make sure you acknowledged it, before he let go of the tang with an agonizingly slow retraction — it was a warning.

An unclasping sound startled you out of your stare-off with his weapon, the noise of metal clinking together as his belt buckle laid lax against his thighs coaxing a noise out of you. You swore you were about to lose it when you heard him unbutton his pants, and the unzipping of zipper teeth graze painfully low behind your ass. He was drawing this out for as long as he could, and you knew it, too. From the amount of times he’s edged you, forced you to beg for what you wanted; to put it into perspective, you didn’t know how far gone you could go until you were once on the brink of passing out from the painful edging and needful crying, that’s how well you knew his tendencies.

The knife laid clattered with your torn lingerie, droplets of thick glossy honey dripping onto the long forgotten pile. Slapping of skin and squelching mush underlined heavy growls and sob-filled moans, the room filled with the damp smell of sex and pornish sounds of pleasure.

Through your broken cries, Ghost couldn’t help the snarl that rose from his throat when he felt your weeping cunt brutally hug onto his dick with need. He had lost himself the moment he sunk balls deep into your hole, letting his desire take full responsibility of fucking you till you were completely stuffed with all he could give. He became an animal, his only need being to shove you full with his cock in the most feral way possible. He needed to.

With a final harsh snap of his hips, the grip he had on your waist indented into your skin, and the hold that marked carnally around your neck dug even deeper into your pulse. He sloppily stilled with a small -plap- between your thighs, keeping flush against your raw sex as he took a moment to gather himself. Sweat lined your skins with a shear layer, heavily falling chests fueling the desperate pants for air that puffed against your exertions. You were on the brink of cumming, your pussy convulsing around his cock as you mewled quietly for him to let you release — this was the third time this round he stopped just before you could snap, and the many tears that drooled down your cheeks were evidence of such sin. You couldn’t even beg for it, you poor thing, that’s how far gone you were.

He shut you up with a violent slap on your plump thigh, earning a muffled cry as he made sure his pelvis pressed right into your clit insync.

“Ah ah ah, love— no whining for your fuckings, remember? You’ll take what I give you, and appreciate it like the proper sex whore you are.”

He drew out your orgasm for the next thirty minutes no matter how desperate you cried, or how fucked out you looked. He couldn’t bring himself to let you out of his room without making sure the only thing your body would remember was him and how he was the only one that could fuck you this good. No one could violently edge, or screw you dumb the way his dick could, and your body better fucking remember that.

You felt something hot glide right through your mounds, the moistened cotton of your panties dragging against your clit in slow, shuddering thrusts.

"Fuuckk.. Fuckin' Christ.." Ghost hissed through bared teeth, grinding himself firmly between your wettened thighs, "'Don't know how much longer I can take this.."

You could cry with how badly you needed him inside of you. It was becoming stressfully hard to keep back your curses and whines, and he was picking up on every little frustrated jolt your body made as he made it worse and worse. And it did worsen when you let out a choppy sob as you felt the warmth of his bulge pull away from your soiled underwear, your clit twitching in red searing need for his attention. It all washed away before you could start begging, when you felt a boiling hot heat prod against the very same bud, squealing out when you felt a warm substance smear across your panties up and down over the entrance to your insides.

His fingers hooked under your thin covering and pulled it to the side of your swollen lips, the cold air hitting your exposed inner flesh and causing it to spasm closed. You hiccuped with every passing breath, imagining what was waiting just mere inches away from your weeping hole; is it his fat cock, pulsing blue veins strapping up the underside of his painfully hard arousal? Or was it another teasing set of fingers to ready your cunt for his dick to bottom out inside you? He answered your question to the fullest when he pushed the bulb of his thick cock right between your folds, earning a shocked moan from your quivering lips.

Utterly pleased, he tilted his head back as he savored the way the tip of his aching dick began to slide back and forth against your sex, feeling every wettened, pulsing piece of your cunt. He ran a hand to the dip of your back as he carelessly hung the other at his side, pumping his happy trail with every slow, teasing roll of his hips against your ass.

A guttural sigh purred deep in his chest, one final 'Fuuck..' rumbling through his stitched balaclava before he stilled his hips, regaining some of his lost composure with every raspy breath.

"Time for the— hah..— main event, don't you think, Bun?"

You could only nod as an answer, your heart trying to steady itself while causing a lump to get caught in your throat. Your body was scorching, all too eager to get what you "deserved" and completely milk it for all you could. You were desperate for any friction, and it started showing as you settled your ass back on his twitching desire, small presses and shifting hips never once escaping his sharp eye.

He tutted his tongue in disapproval as he gave your ass a firm smack, letting his dense fingers sink into your plump rear and melt into your flesh, ��Patience, little rabbit. All you have to do is say please, and I might consider giving you what you want."

You practically leapt at his offer, twisting your head back to face him with blown out eyes, "Please fuck me, Lieutenant! I can't take this anymore— it's been way too long since we've touched, and I need it! Please, please, please!"

Ghost couldn't help the chuckle that ran up his throat, pushing his glistening cockhead on your burning clit as he started to taunt your pathetic begging, "Who knew the stubborn White Rabbit could be taken down a few notches from just a bloody cock.. What would the team think?"

He slowly glides his fingertips up your spine, going straight from your Venus Dips to your delicate nape with taunting emotive trails of gentle leather kisses, “Not like that matters.. ‘Sides, if they even thought about my dangerous little bun all fucked out and sobbing.. Well, I can guarantee they’d rethink what Hell looked like.”

He leans down over your trembling figure, sliding a hand around to the front of your neck and keeping it in a snug grip, “I don’t give a fuck what the regulations say. You’re mine— all mine to adore..”

Your eyes began to blur with every word, ‘mine’ ringing through your ears like an angel’s love song. It sounded so comforting, so intoxicatingly beautiful that it would’ve brought you down on your knees to listen and hang over every lyric. It would’ve— should’ve been the case, except for the fact that in reality, it wasn’t a heavenly call, but was the Devil in disguise dangling your precious desires right in front of your face with every deep, luscious promise. Fucking Christ.. Who knew the Devil looked so good in black?

“Say it.. Say you’re mine, and I’ll give you my fuckin' cock to cry over just how you want.”

“I..”

You gathered your mush of a brain to at least spark some type of sense in you. You sputtered silent nonsense as you tried to please him, tried to give him an answer like the good girl you were. It felt impossible, but you managed with what little control you had over your dumbed-out mind, and responded with such a weak waver of song.

“I’m yours, Lieutenant..”

“That’s my fuckin’ girl.”

In one violent push, his cock plunged to the root in your mush, a sickening smack of wet skin signifying your glistening pussy lips now trembling around his dense girth. Had it not been for his tight grip around your pulsing neck, you would’ve screamed— screamed in absolute pleasure of finally feeling him to the fullest context. Your attention remained glued to the knife, the shiny serrated edge glinting at you in mockery of your pathetic cry. But did you care? Absolutely not. Simon Ghost Riley was stuffing your cunt full of his dick for the millionth time this month, and you would never feel even the slightest bit of shame in taking him. You were infatuated. You were drunk on him. You were in love with him.

Just like how he was in love with you, his pretty little Sergeant.

Flexing his muscled back with a satisfied sigh, he ran his strong hands down your waist and held it in a deathly clutch, “You’re not allowed to cum unless I tell you to. Is that understood?”

You felt your lungs tighten as a breathy sigh passed through your lips, “Yes, sir..”

“Good fuck bunny. Such a lovely piece of fuck meat, just for me.”

Wrapping your hair around a knuckles-white grip, he slammed away at your gushing insides in pure animalistic rage, delicious feral fapping and squelching noises dragging him on to fuck you as he set off with no soft pace. You gasped out only to whine and moan against every hard slap of your hips, the weight of his dick pinning right up into your cervix tipping you over already— his cock was long enough to reach far inside your cunt and push delectably into that one weak spot that sent you reeling; thick enough to leave you molded, gapping the shape of his cock as a momento of who fucks— who owns your very being, inside and out. God, you were in pure bliss. Feeling this man every night in his bed has left this hole in your chest, something you couldn’t quite describe without thinking about him doing you in and touching every inch of your body. He’s left his mark on you, forever attached to a ghost that guarded from the shadows, yet a man that bedded you in nothing but his deep primal musk. The sensations of his carnal sin would never excrete; your body, mind, and soul would remember the way he tastes, feels, and fucks for the rest of your life. But was that really a problem?

He leaned his broad frame over your glittering body, making sure each thrust was passionate, invigorating as he intimately kissed your guts with wild heat. You felt his abdomen graze your back with every pull of your hips towards his exposed pelvis, the feeling of hot cotton and tightened muscles looming above your figure as he pressed you further into the table. You were small compared to his burly size, a single hand able to make home around your neck in a clasp that could still touch at the back of your throat. His thighs that kept yours spread were thick, thrusting against them in a firm stance to ensure they stayed apart and around his dense muscles. His torso.. don’t even get started on his torso. The tight fit of his black shirt perfectly accentuated every crisp line of his abdominal muscles, his strong ribs and sharply cut v-line pressing neatly into the fabric around every tensed ab. You were a lucky girl to experience such a deadly built predator like himself rubbing and fucking into your poor subordinate body. He was the size of an ox compared to you, a small bunny.

He growled lowly in your ear as he tugged your head back into his shoulder, “Don’t you ever disobey me again.. Don’t you ever— fuck— go under my authority again.”

Pulling you back on his dick, he slammed into you after every rough word, “Is.. -plap- that.. -plap- under.. -plap- stood?”

Your nails dug straight into the wood, pressing your reddening cheek into his stitched mask in an attempt to ground yourself, “Gnngh! Yes, sir!”

Without another word, he let go of your hair and allowed your head to rest on the cold wood, swiftly taking hold of your arms and pulling them back towards him in a single clasp. He released your bruised waist from his vice clutch, only to grab onto your shoulder and pull you back on his cock as he rashly snarled, “Take it.. Take this fucking cock.”

The tip of his dick deliciously fucked into your tight pussy, the feeling of his happy trail pounding possessively into your ass gushing out more of your stringy honey. He never let up on his assault, making sure you savored this just as much as he was; the way his cock relentlessly claimed every inch of your guts, and marked your pink in glossy white precum. And how with each passing second, your moans grew louder, unfiltered by anything to hold your pleasure back and overpowering his raspy curses and growls.

He starts coming back to himself, slowly but surely, as he drove his hips into yours in a constant state. He began to have the ability to appreciate how he sunk into your sex inch-by thick-inch with mild resistance of your clenching walls, and how your body would jitter perfectly against his when he thrusted just at the right angle. You were so delicious on his dick, trying to milk him for his worth with the vice-like clench you had on his pumping arousal. How he managed to survive the mission was beyond him, but the reward afterwards was all worth the wait as he could finally refill your hole with his veiny, heavy cock.

Tears prickled into your soft lashes, a small hiccup jolting through your ragged breaths, “Oh, God..!”

His hips slowed just enough to where your voice would calm down, taking your chin in a harsh grasp as he removed his hold on your shoulder and forced you to look over at him. His eyes burned holes into yours, clear utter possession and want flaring around his deep leather browns as he watched pearl after pearl streak down your cheeks from your cute butterfly wings.

“You know, it’s very fuckin’ rude to moan another man’s name as I’m bottomin’ out in you, even if you’re praying to God himself.”

With a low scoff, he whispered against your burning ear as he turned your head back to his knife, “Like he could do any better..”

Your stuttering apology slurred into nothing but noise, too fucked out to even try as your mind focused on how his dick twitched inside of you and dragged against your insides. The overwhelming heat of your sex piled and piled, getting far too scorching that you were on the brink of calling it quits. And yet, at the thought of having this end, you couldn’t bring yourself to tap out and return to your original home plan. You were drunk on his cock, the feeling of every pulsing vein and curve of his twitching sex throwing you further and further into the lustful fog at the back of your mind.

Your soppy cunt sucked and squeezed on his dick, your end drawing near with every slap of your coated thighs, and every desperate tug at your aching arms. Your womb burned with the need to snap, your legs shaking violently as your body begged for release, to reach that plain of ecstasy that would make you see fuzzy white. It was driving you mad, the denial to cum earlier ravaging your nerves like a powerful source as he continued to fuck you straight into the table. You were overwhelmed by all the cloudy sensations of sin— his smell, his dick, his chest, his mask— him. It was like biting into the forbidden fruit when you met him behind closed doors, your bodies colliding and dancing in the fires of your own desires as you gave in to your intrusive thoughts of the ghost.

It was likewise for the shadow himself, feeling the wrongs of behaving in such an inappropriate manner with his subordinate, yet being unable to look away from your innocent eyes as he passed by. To him, you were the temptation, the taboo. You were the forbidden fruit that God himself placed before him— a perfect little angel all for him to ruin and claim with every searing touch. He knew he was trapped the moment he gave in and took your body as his with a simple little graze of his fingers across your naked back. He didn’t mean to get attached. He didn’t mean to always come crawling back to your door that sat just across the hall. But he wasn’t dumb. He knew once that innocent little spark ignited in his cold chest, he had to have you. Call it fiction, but it was like fate for you to be his, just as it was his to be yours.

Sliding his hand away from your neck, Ghost pulled up his balaclava just above the tip of his nose before returning his grip to your blemished throat, “You’re going to— fuckin’ shit— cum all over my cock, and scream out my name like the good little fuck rabbit you are. Copy that.”

“Copied..” You moaned as your eyes scathed away from the knife, accentuating the 'e' with a short, fucked-out purr.

He groaned at your weak answer, shoving his clenching jaw into your neck as he looked up at your glistening face, “That’s— That’s my fuckin’ bun.”

As his need grew, he couldn’t hold back the feral upbringing of possession before he sunk his teeth into your flesh, only enough to leave a gruesome mark for your later discovery when you would clean yourself up in the showers. The possessiveness in his affirmation only made your heart flutter as your stomach did flips from how his voice thundered low in a lustful pitch before he laid needful claim on your neck. It didn’t stop there, either, as his teeth made your neck his personal canvas with deep love bites and purpling hickeys— you were his muse, and his muse alone to show off.

Pulling back from yet another hickey with a sickening pop, he placed his skull covered forehead right into your trapezius with a carnal snarl, “In or out, pet.”

You gasped out for a shaky breath of air against his rough thrusts, looking up into the ceiling as you arched your back in acceptance, “In!”

That was all he needed to hear, his pounding into your raw cunt becoming a feral mess of loud squelching and quickened slaps as his abdomen clenched and heavy balls tightened with the need to cum. You weren’t far behind, not in the slightest, as your mushy pussy began to spasm with your pulsing clit, your womb a burning fire that was ready to spread in an instant.

“Oh— cumming! Cumming, cumming, cumming!”

“Say it— say my fuckin’ name. Scream my bloody fucking name to whatever god is listening as you cum.”

That was it. You tipped right over the edge and screamed out his name, screamed out Simon. Your womb stuttered with each thread snapping and flushing throughout your core in convulsing heats, your hips bucking back into his as your eyes crossed up before fluttering shut. His arms quickly encased your body, wrapping around your waist and hugging you close as he fucked into you and coursed you right into overstimulation. With your arms caged under him, and your twitching figure forcing gurgled noises past your lips, he bottomed out inside of your cunt, sharp thrusts pushing every last drop straight into your womb and filling you to the brim.

Strained pants and groans puffed through the air as you came down from your highs, your legs shaking and possibly put out of commission from the restless fucking you had been given. The Lieutenant laid over your worn out body, resting his arms on the table to keep from piling too much weight on your small figure. He gazed at the mess of your spoiled skin from his markings, surging with pride over what he had done to his girl as his panting began to return to normalcy.

His attention snapped down to you, however, when he felt one of your soft fingers delicately trace along his tattooed sleeve, your eyes foggy while you looked over your shaky work. To keep his returning arousal down was a fucking war, but he managed when he noticed a gushing sensation ripple around his softening cock.

Ghost slowly sat up, running his hands over your sweaty skin to see what mess he had left between your quivering legs, and oh boy, did another war tear right through him when he saw that you had creamed all over his pelvis. His seed had began to spill out of your stretched hole, mixing with your own exertion as it traveled down your thighs and leaked straight from the source.

“Fuckin’ hell.. What a mess.”

You could only listen as he pulled out of your cunt, still keeping his form over your body in a protective stance just before he gently picked you up off the table and placed you on his lap when he sat in a chair. He pulled you close to him, letting your head rest on his shoulder as you finally managed to catch your breath and fill back with your lost sanity.

Stroking your back with a careful thumb, he peered down at you and spoke with a soft rasp, “You okay, love?”

You swallowed a forming saliva, wetting your dried throat before responding with a weak voice, “I’m okay.. I just hope they didn’t hear..”

Ghost couldn’t help the smirk that wiped onto his lips, “Oh, I’m sure they did. From the way you screamed my name, there’s no way they didn’t hear you creaming on my dick.”

You shook your head and nuzzled into his bunched shirt, sighing contently despite the sinful activity that just took place, in the debriefing room, no less, “God damn it..”

“Let’s go, MacTavish! You’re taking two minutes longer than last time!”

“Yes, sir!”

Price watched as Gaz and Soap wrestled around in the dirt, trying to overthrow one another as the spar continued. Ghost stood silent, arms crossed as he watched the two Sergeants have at each other, noting all their flawed advances and misses.

The Captain flashed his eyes towards his Lieutenant, gazing over his attentive posture before going back to the training, “Where is White?”

“I told her to sleep in for today.” He responded, eyes never once leaving the two men.

“I wonder why..” Price muttered, running a hand down his face with an amused scoff before returning it to his side, “You’re lucky I sent those two off to help with the luggage.”

Ghost just barely gave him a side glance, his own amusement underlying his blank stare before looking back at Soap tackling Gaz.

With a sigh of defeat, he shook his head as he crossed his own arms, “Your way of punishment astounds me, Simon.”

At this, he couldn’t help but let out his own thoughts, a subtle joking tone playing in his voice, “A little harsh directive time and again saves you the trouble, Price.”

“Yeah— saves me the trouble, grants you the pleasure.”

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