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rivatar · 4 months

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The Heat

MDNI!🔞

Pairing: Aged¡Up¡Neteyam x Fem¡Omatikaya¡Reader

Synopsis: Reader goes into heat and Neteyam being the good boy he is helps her ofc

Warnings: SMUT, breeding, cussing

A/N: Well guys I couldn’t contain myself from writing a reader in heat fic and y’all wanted Neteyam to be the lucky man so here ya go!🤭 Also sorry it’s taken so long! Hope you enjoy and Happy Valentines Day 💌

W/c: 2.5k

The day started off like usual. You woke up and got ready for the day, fixing your everyday beads into your hair and freshening up with some some oils. You were still living in your parents hut despite their efforts to get you married off, so in turn you had to do the same amount of work they did, maybe even more since they were getting older.

You had a good bit of chores to do today — helping your mother weave a couple more loincloths for your family, helping your little brother practice his English, and the timeliest chore of all, going to the outskirts of the forest to collect yovo fruit.

You’d decided to leave that chore for last, going in the afternoon soon after you’d had lunch with some of your friends. You asked if any of them could go with you to keep you company and help, but they all had their own things to do for today.

And so you started on your way, basket in hand and some supplies to help you with the picking. You figure it shouldn’t take you anymore than about 2-3 hours so you could be back in time to help your mother prepare dinner.

…

You knew you were over halfway there, you recognized a little pond that you’ve mentally noted as a halfway mark whenever you’d had to do this before. There was no sign of any Na’vi out here which was a little nerve racking but you knew how to protect yourself if there was any danger to come, having your bow on your back and knife on your hip.

Then you suddenly felt a sting in your lower stomach. Your ears perked up at the feeling but you kept walking, assuming it would go away.

But then you felt your temperature rise, sweat starting to form on your hairline. Your hands were clammy and you felt a bit dizzy. This made your heart drop because now was not the time to fall ill, though you were confident someone would come find you if you weren’t back by eclipse.

You found a rock and decided to sit on it and try to catch your breath. You were trying not to freak out but you didn’t know what was wrong.

The stinging was getting worse and turned more into a sharp aching, making you wince at the uncomfortableness. Your breath was quickly picking up and your mouth went dry.

You opted to kneel onto the ground, hunching over in pain. And then that’s when you realized — you must be in heat. These were all the tell-tale signs of a heat, which you had never experienced before.

You mentally cursed at the horrible timing. You knew you needed the Tsahik to help you but here you were, stranded in the deep forest.

It was rapidly getting more intense and you were losing all your thoughts. Your brain and body was turning to mush and your pupils dilated, you knew your control and rationality was slipping away.

Trying to find relief, you tugged off your loincloth and jeweled top. It cooled you down for a second, but only for the desperate need to keep spreading more intensely all throughout your body.

You knew what you needed and it was all that consumed your mind. You were no stranger to sex, you’ve had a few men. But this wasn’t about fun, casual sex — you needed to be bred and you felt it deep in your aching womb, as much as you would normally hate to admit that. But now you had no shame and were only focused on getting your sweet release.

…

Neteyam was out on patrol for the day and he didn’t mind this job. It consisted of walking near the borders and all around the uncommon areas in the forest. Usually he ran into no problems, so he didn’t complain about this duty. It was actually quite peaceful as it allowed him to be alone with his thoughts as he was out walking, still on high alert nonetheless.

He was just about to take a break from walking and dip his feet into a little pond he spotted when he smelled something unfamiliar. He didn’t recognize the scent but it was so good. His nose twitched as he tried to follow the sweet smell and then he heard a high pitch whine, like someone was in distress.

All his senses on alert, he carefully followed these distractions. And that was when he saw you.

He stumbled back in shock as he took in the scene before him. You were naked and drenched in sweat, straddling a large rock and grinding mercilessly on it, covering it in your juices and sweat. You were whining so much it looked like you were crying, clearly being tortured. And he recognized you, he knew your name and would see you out occasionally but that was about it.

As he was trying to process what his eyes were seeing, your scent crept up into his nose, even stronger and heavy in the air. Your eyes were screwed shut so you hadn’t noticed him yet until you smelled him—earthy and musky like a man.

Your eyes flashed open and head snapped to find him standing, a small whine escaping your lips.

“Y/n?” He breathed out shakily, as if he couldn’t believe it was you who was really in front of him doing this.

“Neteyam!” You shouted in relief. You were completely gone at this point.

His ears shot up at the sound of his name, though concern filled his eyes at your state.

“I need your help,” you cried, almost sobbing right then.

His eyes looked around still trying to process it all. He realized you were in heat and needed to see the Tsahik so she could give you medicines to ease the pain until it passed. But Eywa, you looked so good. After all he was only a man and had his limits too, even as the golden child. He gathered his thoughts and cleared his throat.

“Y/n, you poor girl,” he said sympathetically, “I’m so sorry this has happened out here. Let me carry you back to the tsahik, okay?”

“Nooo! Can’t wait! I need you to help me, you know what I need!” You whined to him.

He really did feel bad for you, you looked pitiful. And your scent was still continuing to attack his nostrils, getting him high on you.

You weakly crawled over to him and clung onto his leg. “Please!! I’ll do anything! I’m sorry- but please just help me!!” You laid your head tenderly against his calf as your body was slightly shaking and planted a kiss on his leg.

His eyes grew wide at your display of submission and neediness. You were breaking him quickly. He prided himself on his self-control and discipline, having been able to always do the right thing. But you were making him hungry with desire, he wanted nothing more than to indulge in you and give you everything you wanted right now. But what would his or your parents think? He needed to calm you down and get you to someone else before he crumbled completely. He swallowed hard and took a deep breath.

“Sweet girl,” he cooed softly looking down at you, though his eyebrows were scrunched up and jaw was clenching from his own internal war of trying to resist you. “I know it hurts but I can run fast, let me get you to help!” He reasoned and tugged your arms.

“Teyam NO! I need to be fucked right now!” Now you really were crying in desperation.

He finally lost his restraint at your vulgar plead. He crouched down to your level and held your face gently in his hands, seriousness sketched on his face.

“You’re not in your right mind,” he shook his head and you felt a pang of disappoint for a moment, “but I will help you. As you wish” he whispered tenderly.

You were ecstatic that he finally agreed. You nodded your head vigorously and pounced on him, losing your patience. He grunted as you both fell back and you landed on him. You ripped off his loincloth. You were not yourself at all but this wasn’t registering in your brain. You just knew you needed dick, now.

His pretty face looked surprised and taken aback by your straightforwardness but it was quickly replaced by his own desperation to have you.

You grabbed his dick and grinned from ear to ear, you were impressed with his size and couldn’t wait to have him in you. He propped himself on his elbows to watch you. You eagerly positioned him to your entrance, ready to lower yourself.

“Shit baby, just wanna get right to it, huh?” He commented and let out a weak chuckle, though he wasn’t really complaining.

“Mhmm, can’t wait Teyam” you whimpered.

He nodded his head in understanding and placed his hands on your hips to encourage you on. “Go on, sevin” he urged you. He knew you were using him but he didn’t mind and wanted to help you.

You sank down on him, marveling in the sensation. His cock gave the perfect amount of drag on your walls as you went lower and lower until your hips met. Both your jaws were slack and he groaned at the feeling.

“So fucking tight and wet” he grunted, “you’re gonna drive me crazy”

You moaned in response and tightened around him. He didn’t fail to notice you squeezing him after he spoke.

“You like what I’m sayin, huh? You like being talked to?”

“Yes, please!”

“Start riding me, take whatever you need.”

You wasted no time in obliging his request. You sat up and slammed back all the way down, taking all of him once again. You moaned in unison at the sweet friction.

Picking up the pace, you began bouncing on him. You planted your hands onto his chest for stability and he grabbed your wrists to hold them in place.

“F-fuck! Mmmm yeah, you’re doing so good, y/n” he praised you, urging you on.

You were a moaning mess above him, not even able to form words at the moment. His cockhead was hitting your cervix each time and the pleasure was consuming every nerve in your body. It was all you could think about.

You were creaming all over him, it coated his lower stomach and thighs, making unholy noises. You could feel your release approaching and he could feel his too, as his dick began to twitch inside of you.

“Teyam! Gonna- gonna cum!!” You announced to him.

“I know babe I know, do it!! I am too- shit!” He squeezed his eyes shut, his orgasm overtaking his body.

As soon as you felt his seed shooting into you and heard his low whimpers of pleasure, that was all you needed to get to completion too.

“Ahh! Fuck, fuckkkk!” You screamed so loud they could probably hear you back at the village. You convulsed around his length, milking him dry. You rode out your high on him, not even caring that you were overstimulating him as he was writhing on the ground below you.

You slumped onto him after you got what you wanted. Your bodies were sweating and slippery against each other, hearts pounding and panting into each others ears.

After a few seconds, you still felt the aching in your womb wanting more. You rose up to look at him and try to beg for more, hoping he would grant your request.

“You had enough?” He asked. He looked pussy drunk and you loved that it was yours that got him this way.

“No.. need more” you cried shamelessly and harshly sniffed his scent in like it was a drug.

“Okay sweetie,” he began as he secured you in his arms and rose up to his feet effortlessly. Eywa, he was so strong. “Let me fuck you properly. My way.”

He backed you up against a tree, still holding you up with his big, bulky arms. You knew he was muscular of course but you had never been this close to him. You went from barely being acquaintances to getting real close, real fast. It definitely would never be the same after this.

His length was already rock hard again, no doubt because of your strong pheromones suffocating him and putting him under your spell. By Eywa, you were making him an animal too. He wanted to make you cum over and over again, screaming his name.

He grabbed his dick with one hand and slid it across your abused, puffy cunt. He loved the sight and wanted this moment etched in his mind forever.

“So, so pretty y/n. You should’ve let me do this a long time ago. Guess I didn’t catch your eye” he stated jokingly.

“You’re the olo’eyktan’s son.. I figured you’d never have time for someone ordinary like me”

“Ordinary?? You just made me cum embarrassingly soon, I think that’s rather impressive and special” he chuckled. You laughed too. Gah, he was so handsome.

Bringing you out of your daze, he pushed his dick inside you. You were still wet with yours and his release so it glided easily. You instantly let out a long moan at being full of him again.

His ears were peeled back and he was biting his lip to try to suppress his own sounds of satisfaction. He was definitely pussy whipped.

He started his pace and it simply felt like heaven. Your pussy was already more sensitive from previously orgasming so the pleasure was intensified and downright addicting.

You were moaning and whimpering incoherently and he was watching your perfect, round tits bounce like he was in a trance.

“Damnit girl” he gritted through his teeth, struggling to keep any sort of composure “You’re so good. Doing so good for me”

He finally took the opportunity to kiss you on the lips. He was warm and sweet on your tongue, you let him take over your mouth and moaned through the kiss. You wanted to scream from the pleasure but he made you take his kiss.

You were getting near and he could tell by the way you squeezed him. He wanted to cum with you so he started jackhammering up into you, holding onto you so you wouldn’t fall out of his grasp from the aggressive thrusts flinging you about.

“Ohhhh! My Eywa! It’s too much!” You cried out, words broken up slightly from the air getting knocked out of you.

“You can take it! Cmon take it for me, sevin!” he pleaded desperately with you.

You came undone over him and shook violently. The pleasure coursed through every inch of you and you cried out his name over and over again. His name on your pretty lips was more than enough to push him over as well. He let out his load into you and pushed it all the way back to your cervix.

He crashed onto you and you were squished between the tree and his heavy, brawny body. You didn’t mind the squeeze though, you loved how huge he was and how small he made you feel.

He was lowly humming in satisfaction. Weakly, he lifted his head up to look at you, you were so close you were nose-to-nose. Both your expressions were of being fucked out and pure bliss.

His hooded eyes filled with lust searched your eyes. “Another round?”

…………….

Taglist: @professional-yapper @neteyamssyulang @nonamevenus

#atwow #avatar the way of water #avatar #avatar fanfiction #avatar smut #neteyam #neteyam x you #neteyam x female reader smut #neteyam x na'vi!reader #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #neteyam sully #neteyam smut #neteyam x reader #james cameron avatar #atwow smut #atwow fanfiction #atwow neteyam

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all-purpose-dish-soap · 2 months

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1.8k / 24 / soap soulmate au, part 4

...

Price takes a seat opposite you. Ghost stands behind him, massive arms crossed. Price folds his hands together.

"Tea?" he asks.

You say nothing.

"Ghost, go get us some tea."

Ghost leaves. Price examines you, drumming his fingers against the table. He acts friendly. But he's not playing. You have no doubt he'll extract the information he needs by any means necessary. You need to make sure he doesn't figure out which of your buttons to press.

"You're Soap's girl," he says.

You say nothing. His stare presses in on you as heavily as the silence, pushing your back into your seat.

"Who is he to you?"

You shift, uncomfortable in your chair. "A stranger." You roll your shoulders as if trying to shrug off the implications. "An enemy, ostensibly."

Price leans closer. "You kiss your enemies often?"

Not until Johnny walked into your patrol path.

"Left quite the impression on Soap. You made a bit of a mark on Ghost, too. Not that it’s hard." Price leans back, giving you a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "He’s got a soft spot for Soap, hm? So he doesn't want you hurt. Doesn't want Soap put out."

You remain silent, but it doesn't seem to bother him. He studies you, utterly calm. He's trying to read you. It's obvious he has some kind of game plan, and now he thinks you have one, too.

"Weren't quite planning to walk into someone like him, were you? Things happened, didn't they? Things you had to work through."

"No."

"Really. 'Cause with the way you're acting, I'd wager you had different plans for yourself. Now you're all twisted up in this. Plans got ruined because he came along. Maybe you've got your own plans, hm? Got a whole life back home. A career, clearly. Nice little house. Maybe you've got a boyfriend already."

"What do you want?" you grit out.

"Access, love," he says, like this whole interrogation is just a pleasant chat. That new base of yours, the one Graves commandeered. How do you like it?"

"Barely seen it."

"I imagine you're rather busy lately, then. Lot on your mind. Shepherd must have you working hard." You notice a muscle twitching in his jaw. He has an iron grip on his temper. "But you saw enough of it to get a good look around, hm? The layout, the security, the systems. Tell me about it."

"I don't know anything."

"Nothing?" He leans forward again. He doesn't seem to like that answer. "The security cameras. The guards. The patrols. The sensors." His voice is low. "You don't know anything about those?"

"Didn't ask."

"Hm." His shoulders lift in a slight shrug as the expression on his face hardens further. "You didn't ask." He repeats. "Didn't ask. Didn't ask..." Then he pauses, staring through you. He leans back again. "No, of course not. You follow orders. You do your job. Can't fault you for that." He speaks with a cool tone, but there's a tightness in the lines of his jaw as he says it. "And now you're here and your buddies are gone. Just you. The only target left." He lets the silence stretch out. "Do you think Graves'll come for you?"

"No."

"Hm. Why not?"

"I'm a nobody."

"Hmmmmm." His smile doesn't change, but the lines around his eyes shift as if he finds that amusing. "And you're perfectly content with that? With knowing that when you walk into that base every day, you'll just be another body for Graves to throw onto the heap?”

You hold his gaze. "Yes."

"You don't think you're worth more than that?"

You say nothing.

The smile is still there, but his eyes narrow. He's judging you. Judging your worth. You hold his gaze. He seems to recognize something in you--that you're telling the truth. You know what you are. You're a mercenary. You're expendable.

"You must have a low opinion of yourself." He sighs, crossing his arms and settling a little further into his chair. "You've accepted you're not walking out of this base, then."

You nod.

Price examines you, eyes narrow and intense. Peeling you apart. You're certainly not an idiot. Smart enough to know you're expendable; loyal enough to take orders, keep your mouth shut, and follow through without asking questions. Not the type of soldier he prefers, but in the right hands, you'd be lethal.

Tough to crack, too. He rubs his chin. Hard to threaten someone who doesn't have anything to lose.

Two sharp knocks on the door herald Ghost, who slips back inside and closes the door. He's not carrying tea.

"Might want to pick up the pace," Ghost says. "Soap's back."

You stiffen, as much as you try not to show it.

Price's gaze flicks over to you, noting the tensing of your shoulders. "He knows?"

"Affirmative, sir. Someone outside must've seen her mark and tipped him off."

At that moment, there's a banging on the door. Johnny's voice echoes from the other side. "LT!"

Hearing it is a punch to the gut.

Soap keeps knocking. "Ghost, get yer lyin' arse out here!"

Price looks at Ghost and nods toward the door. "Go on, then, handle it."

Ghost curses under his breath and slips outside.

"Hell's fuckin' bells, LT, what's goin' on?"

Ghost's reply is too low and muffled to catch.

"Busy with what?" Soap snaps. "I know she's here. I need to see her."

Ghost's reply this time sounds harsher.

"Like hell I'm not. That's my goddamned soulmate, aye? My girl. I've got a right to see her. You'll not keep me from the one person in the whole bloody world that's mine."

"Captain's interrogating her." Ghost's tone is low and loud now, a warning. "You don't get special privileges with her."

Soap lets loose a string of colorful curses. You can make out roughly half of them through his accent. "What does Price think she's got that's so bloody important I don't get to know about it?"

"She's a Shadow, Johnny. Chrissake."

"Aye, an' she's in that room goin' it alone. She needs me."

Your heart twists in your chest, and it forces out a breath you didn't know you were holding. It's eating at your resolve. Just hearing him speak about you is making you want things you shouldn't. He sounds like he wants to protect you. Like you're worth something to him. You try to shake it out of your head. You're a prisoner here. This isn't a love story. He doesn’t love you. He doesn't know you.

Then you look up, and your blood goes cold. Price is staring at you, and he's smirking.

His eyes move over you, dissecting you piece by piece, and you feel your expression revealing too much. He saw your mask slip. He saw what you're concealing.

"I'll be damned." His smirk grows. "I thought Shadows were all cold-blooded bastards."

Your mouth twitches like it wants to bare teeth. "Go to hell."

"Ghost," he calls mildly at the closed door, "get in here. And bring Soap, would you?"

No no no no. Panic washes over you. You pull at your cuffs, feeling yourself lapse into a freeze response. Not Johnny. You can't face him. You try desperately to get a grip on your body's reaction, to remember your training.

You turn your head away from the door and fix your eyes on the opposite corner of the room. Among the many rifles and launchers racked on the walls, you find a pistol and you concentrate on it as hard as you can. You study the polish smudged near the mouth of the barrel. The scarred grip.

Behind you, the door opens.

Soap is across the room in moments. He kneels next to you, his hands falling to your arm, to your shoulder, your neck. His thumb brushes across one of the many cuts on your cheek.

You feel outside of yourself. Soap seems too fixated on your state of being to notice.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ. What did you rat bastards do to my girl?" he growls.

"She did this to herself," Ghost says. He puts his hand on Soap's shoulder. "And we need her restrained while we question her--"

"Back off," Soap warns, brushing his hand away. "Am not dealin' with you right now."

Price cuts in, voice firm. "Soap, cool off. Now."

Soap's temper flashes hot. His jaw clenches. His muscles tense. But he takes a deep, steadying breath. "Aye, Captain," Soap says. He straightens up, his hands falling away from your face. But it's clear his blood is still simmering. "Permission to remove her cuffs."

"Negative," Price says. Soap starts to say something, but Price cuts him off. "No. She's unpredictable. You know that as well as we do. We can't afford to trust her until we understand what Graves' orders are."

Soap curls and uncurls his fists, evidence of the sheer will he's exerting to keep his feet planted where they are. "And what do you expect me to do? Just leave her here? Not say a word to her?"

That smirk curls Price's lips again. "Quite the opposite. I'd like you to do the talking for us."

Price stands and gestures to Ghost again, and Ghost guides Soap by the shoulder over to him. Soap resists on principle for a moment before his mind catches up and he walks stiffly to the other side of the table.

“She has information we need," Price says. "Alejandro, remember? Once that's squared away, we'll need no hostage. You understand me?"

There's a beat of silence.

"You want me to interrogate her," Soap says.

"I want access," Price replies.

"And once I have the information?"

"Then she’s all yours. You can do whatever you like. Let her go. Hell, drive her to the airport if you want. But until then" --Price's hand lands on Soap's shoulder and pushes him down into the interrogator's seat across from you-- "she doesn't leave this room. You understand?"

You feel Soap's eyes on you.

"Fine. I'll do it. But it's gotta be me and her. No one else. You let me do my job the way I know it needs to be done."

"Hm." Price glances at you. You're still concentrating on the pistol on the far wall. "That's just fine. Ghost, let's give 'em some time alone."

Ghost follows Price out of the room, closing and locking the door behind them.

"Sir?" Ghost's voice is low and uncertain.

"Trust me, Soap is the leverage we needed. He'll do just fine.”

Ghost is quiet for a moment. "If he keeps his head on straight."

Price hums in agreement, his smile genuine now. "If he keeps his head on straight."

...

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / [part 4] / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10

more Soap / masterlist tag

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house-of-daena · 9 months

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my doctor is a succubus!? [succubus.afab.baizhu x m.reader]

contents: he/him pronouns, subtop reader/powerbottom baizhu, nsfw, s3x with a LOT of feelings, virgin reader, overstimulation, praise, degradation, vanilla-ish, creampie, blood, fem genitalia/anatomy terms w/ baizhu (pvssy, cvnt, womb), mention of top surgery scars, ooc baizhu(? he's just really inlove w/ you), hurt/comfort, tell me if i miss anything. [wc. 5.2k]

꒰ GRAHHHHH finally able to post this... after 2-3 weeks posting the masterlist im . i can't with myself 😭 so sorry it took so long and im extra sorry it came out with this monstrosity. i very much like this imo buuttt i can't say the same for you guys. anyways, i probably wont write smth like this ever again unless y'all end up liking it!! (also this was supposed to celebrate 600-700 followers but uh. oops! ty for 800!) ꒱

let's fuck monsters tonight!

it was always peaceful at night. crickets chirping into the cool hours of darkness, fireflies lighting up as they flew, like the stars above the clouds, and the silent crashing of waves against the shore.

no soul could be seen wandering in the streets of liyue, except for some mililith patrolling to keep the city safe. but something lurked in the shadows...

something sinister.

hungry.

lustful.

he crept from house to house, looking for the perfect prey to feed on. he searched desperately, the hunger that had been ignored for treacherous years, leaving his monstrous instincts salivating and wild. the pain of starvation he brings himself to, in fear of hurting others, has weakened him, but his hunt didn't cease for a moment. it made him crave it, the essence of someone who could fulfill his devilish needs, and the warmth his insides long yearned for.

the mark on his pelvis had gone dull, and it ached more with each passing day.

baizhu usually relied on medicine he had made for himself. to keep his salacious desires at bay, and though it wasn't much of the real deal, it managed to keep his body relatively healthy without the base nutrients it required for his succubus blood, and it truly helped him for the longest time.

but it has been years since he had feasted on someone's precious essence, and baizhu has diligently refused to feed again. while his nature is uncouth, his heart remains pure, and he worries that if he tries to feed again, he will hurt them, despite hurting himself.

but this time, his hunger was different.

it was an ardent need. essential. his body reacted so negatively, rendering him unable to properly work for days. it was clear that his body was demanding him to go and hunt for food, so it could sustain itself properly. perhaps after feeding once, he could go back to his regular intake of pills.

for now, he searched for a feast.

and, indeed, he found it, inside a familiar house.

your home,

and you were sleeping inside your bedroom,

a succubus' meal.

if he were to do it with anyone, it would be you, as much as he didn't want to.

you were a sweet man, always visiting him and qiqi in bubu pharmacy and offering a hand whenever you were free. you get along with just about everyone in the pharmacy; being old friends with gui, helping qiqi with deliveries—even changsheng has taken a liking to you, slithering onto your arm when you step behind the counter with baizhu, giving you a warm welcome.

he can't help but find himself falling for such a man like you.

and he absolutely hates the fact that the only person he'd feel safe within such a vulnerable state is you. he could kill you, and he would never forgive himself if he got carried away.

you were too precious to him. but he was starving.

it greatly intensified once he took a step inside your room, almost salivating the moment he inhaled your scent. archons, he smelt you everywhere, it was almost suffocating. and he had never smelt something so divine, so pungent, he was slightly aware of how his thoughts were slowly getting muddled—he admired you as you slept, chest steadily rose and fell, soft snores from your parted lips. you looked so peaceful, and yet here he was, hovering above your unsuspecting form, biting his bottom lip and his hands trembling as he held back from touching you so soon.

you began to stir on your bed when baizhu turned off your lamp, a faint hiss that was dangerously close to your ear made you blearily open your eyes in the dead of night, the weight of your bed shifting to one side more as you felt something move right beside you.

quickly, you jolt from your bed, startled at the man beside you. a scream almost leaves your lips when he leans towards you, face inches apart, his hot breath hitting your skin. "don't worry," he murmurs, voice silky smooth, so sultry it made your skin crawl, cheeks flushed as he moves even closer to you. "i won't hurt you, i just... need some help, is all."

the man before you reassures, his cool fingertips tracing your jawline, sharpened nails digging slightly into your skin. baizhu knows that if he suggests that he needs help, even though he was a stranger breaking into your home, you'd assist him. perhaps the charm he was using in his voice also helped, considering your eyes have easily succumbed to his mesmerizing haze of seduction.

all it took for him was to speak with his voice in a low, alluring tone, press his lithe, and smooth body against yours, allowing your hands to glide onto the skin of his exposed belly and touch you like he owns you—teasing you with assurances of bliss, only to pull away. like bait attached to a string, luring you into his possessive hands.

baizhu almost lost himself in his desire for you, his heart pounding and the mark on his womb ached more than ever before. he craved to have you inside him, nearly jumping on you and just taking you then and there.

but gods, baizhu's love for you was the only thing that was holding him back, so he settled on peppering wet kisses on your quivering adam's apple, his hand rubbing your thigh. "you'll help me, right?" he hums, golden irises glowing faintly in the dark. he sees you squint as if you're trying to discern who he is—he was probably oddly familiar to you, considering his voice and the shape of his body were similar to the kindhearted doctor from the local pharmacy not too far away from your home...

your thoughts were chased away when his forked tongue flickered against your lips, suddenly aware of his... unnatural features. slitted, but gorgeous golden eyes, scales on certain parts of his skin, small horns, akin to bumps, that protruded from his forehead, a tail with a heart-shaped tip, and fangs that made your heart lurch at both fear and excitement.

"i've been starving for an awfully long time..." he whispers into your ear, his hand slowly creeping inside your shirt and card his nails onto your stomach, soliciting a small whimper from your throat. baizhu almost moans in delight at the wonderful sound. "you'll feed me, right? let me regain my strength?"

slowly, you nod, hand resting on his shoulder. "y-yeah," you manage to say, still trying to make out any of his features in the dark. "i can cook you something real quick-"

"oh no, you're quite mistaken." he purrs, licking his lips as his hand begins to lower itself down to your crotch. "you see, darling, i'm a succubus." he hears your breath hitch at his confession, his lips brushing against yours as he pins you against the headboard, straddling your lap. strands of his hair fall to your face, your hands feel as if it belongs on his slender waist as you grab hold of it, his eyes gleam brightly with lust as he looks down at you and lifts your chin to stare back into his bewitching face. "i'll need a different kind of sustenance...~"

even in the dark, you can tell that he is absolutely gorgeous as if the gods themselves carved him into existence. your grip tightens, so much so that your nails leave crescent-shaped indents.

baizhu was experiencing absolute heaven, and the both of you were still fully clothed. his heart was beating so hard against his chest that he was afraid you could feel it if he pressed his body against yours. he was smiling ear to ear in excitement, and he fought hard to hold back. his body was in a love-struck frenzy, skin hot to the touch and his cheeks flaming red, his tail flicking back and forth.

oh, he never would've expected to have you like this so soon. underneath him, looking up at him with those lovely eyes, lost, but still so eager to help. if you only knew the things you do to him...

he could see your hesitance, probably thinking about the risks of indulging in a succubus' request. it was understandable, honestly, even though baizhu was in complete control of his body, he could still put your life at risk. after all, he hasn't eaten in years.

"you won't die," he murmurs almost too sweetly, his voice making your poor, charmed mind buzz pleasantly. "that's a promise~" thankfully, you could still make coherent thoughts, shooting him a serious look, hands curiously tracing the sensitive mark on his pelvis that glowed in the dark. he hums at the feeling of your fingers, gently pressing and kneading, yet it burned ferociously with ardent need. gods, his body needed you now.

"if you say so...." you whisper back, nervous, "i put my trust in you, if it meant helping you..."

so as soon as those words left your lips, baizhu grabbed you by the collar and smashed your lips together, kissing you so hard that it felt like he was devouring you. teeth clashed against each other, his fangs sank onto the fragile skin of your bottom lip, making it bleed, and he sucks on your tongue, kissing and practically taking all the air out of your lungs.

baizhu was ecstatic, swallowing the lavish taste of your blood, drinking in all the whimpers and moans you make just from the addicting kiss. your hands were now on his ass, guiding his body and grinding his crotch onto your hardening cock. when he pulls away, he pants, moving his hips languidly to meet your thrusts, absolutely enamored at the string of saliva that connected the two of you.

"you shouldn't trust so easily," baizhu warns, cradling your head into his arms, his kisses never ceasing, making sure to attach his lips to every inch of your skin. he wants to savor every single second he spends with you, loving your body, getting a taste of something so sacred, you, that he would surely grow to yearn once this is all over. "if it were another succubus, you might not be treated as nicely as i have~"

his voice put you in a hypnotic trance, eyes trailing down his body as your hands moved on their own, stripping him bare from his clothing. fingers, featherlight and delicate, trailed the scars that adorned his chest, the tantalizing feeling of your hot breath on his nipple while your hand pinched and flicked his other. "there's just... something so familiar about you." you murmur against his skin, pressing the pad of your wet and hot tongue against his perky bud, making baizhu let out a pleased sigh, hand grabbing the back of your head. your mind was clouded with his drowning lust to recognize him, but still awake enough to think. "you know me, and... i know you."

baizhu felt his heart drop, the urge to run away and find someone else to feed him gnawed at his stomach. he would rather starve than let himself be known to you; him, a succubus, seducing you to do his bidding. baizhu longed to have you in his bed, to make love to you and have you all for himself, to call you his, and call himself yours. just—not like this!

and as if you could sense his inner turmoil, you gently turned your bodies, laying him down on your bed. you kissed the tip of his nose, down to the apple of his cheeks, the corners of his bloodied lips, and onto his chin. you kissed him like he was a masterpiece to be worshipped, hands stroking his supple skin. he could see the admiration in your eyes, sparkling from the slightest of light the moon provided that seeped through your curtains.

and while baizhu couldn't tell if it was all because of his hypnotizing charm, his heart skipped a beat.

then, you grab his hand, lips brushing against his knuckles and kissing the callouses that graced his fingertips. "i feel safe, for some reason." you continued, leaning back to take off your clothes. "like we have met before, and you are company i enjoy myself a lot with... isn't that weird, stranger?"

baizhu could hear the slight recognition in your voice, but his initial fear was forgotten when he felt your cock pressed against his thigh. his body immediately reacted to your warmth, moving his hips to feel more of you, against his desperate, aching hole. stars above, it is so much bigger than he anticipated, your drooling tip smearing pre all over this thigh, and baizhu gulps at the groans that rumble from your chest.

it hurt to have you so close, yet so far, so empty despite the promise of being filled. still, baizhu managed to find his voice to reply. "o-oh, certainly. i am a succubus after all," he tried to regain the flair in his tone, to keep you enraptured to his hidden beauty, delude you into thinking that he wasn't the same man you thought he was, "a demon, monster."

though it was dark, baizhu saw your lips curve downward, frowning at his harsh words. your hands slid from his waist, down to the back of his thighs, squeezing the flesh, before parting his legs and letting him wrap them around your waist, keeping the two of you connected until the succubus that lays before your bed decided he had enough.

you were completely at his mercy, and it made you impossibly harder.

gently, as if he was your lover, you pushed back a strand of his hair behind his pointed ear, fingers lingering on the shape of his concealed, yet beautiful face. "don't speak to yourself like that," you kiss his collarbones, and feel him squeeze you between his legs a little tighter, pulling you closer to him, "it breaks my heart."

"does it now?" baizhu quips, sharp, quick, defensive, and disbelieving. "you don't even know me."

"you still have feelings, don't you?"

baizhu's heart can't take it. it feels so full, about to explode, despite the agonizing emptiness of his hole, thighs quivering and hands clinging onto you. he feels breathless, heartbeat in his throat—you're treating him how you'd treat baizhu, the caring doctor of bubu pharmacy, not the succubus trying to get you to fuck him. you don't know who he was, he was certain of it.

but perhaps he was just in denial, too afraid to let someone as good as you be so close to him. you are deserving of more, someone who can be devoted to you, as much as you are to him. he can't bear the thought of you leaving him once he has taken grasp of immortality, growing old without him as he lives on. nor the burden you'll surely carry with him.

that is why he has never made a single move to you, nor acknowledged yours. he adores you from afar, breaking his own heart by keeping himself close to you despite knowing he can never be with you—his mission won't allow it. he can't let it happen.

but oh, when you hold him so tenderly in your arms, caressing his cheeks with your thumb and kissing him so sweetly, it feels like the walls he has built specifically to keep you away from his heart, fall apart so easily.

"if you're a monster, then why do you talk so gently to me?" you whisper, and the hairs of his skin stand, sharp nails digging onto your skin. "so careful of my body, asking me for consent, even though you're salivating in hunger."

the smile you gave him made baizhu fall in love with you all over again, grabbing his hand and intertwining your fingers with his. "i think you are quite nice, person that i totally don't recognize." a soft chuckle escapes your lips, and it eases him how comfortable you were, worries melting into nothingness. "so please, tell me what i need to do to help you."

ah, he was so weak for you. baizhu wraps an arm around your neck, pulling you impossibly closer to him, capturing your lips once against with his. "then you better start fucking me," he demands, his other hand scoops the slick his body has been producing wildly, copious amounts in his hand and coating your dick with it himself.

you lean down to his ear, letting him hear all of the lewd sounds that escape your lips as he squeezes your length, stroking it with his experienced hands, and grazing his nails on a thick, bulging vein that makes you whimper onto his neck. you quickly caught on that he enjoyed your noises. his wetness felt cool on your throbbing cock, the squelch of each movement of his hand making you tremble above him, burying your nose onto his shoulder as he coos your name and played with your cock.

maybe you were just extra sensitive because you were... inexperienced... but there was something odd about his wetness. it made your dick tingle, ache, and burned fervidly. you felt lightheaded all of a sudden, your mind and body screaming at you to just have your cock inside of him.

it must be one of his succubus traits, you gulped nervously.

you were so cute, so pliant, despite having him underneath you. a surge of pride swells in his chest, digging his thumb onto your weeping slit, thoroughly satisfied at the moan that came from your trembling lips. he felt himself grow hungrier when you moved your head back, gazing at him with enchanted, half-lidded eyes, flushed cheeks, and parted lips. baizhu has never felt so grateful for his night vision.

when his skillful hands lined up your cock to his hole, parting his glistening folds with your pulsating tip, you stop him for a moment, brows furrowed worriedly. "w-wait," you breathe, voice wavering, "what about you?"

baizhu merely laughs at your concern, cooing at you and caressing your cheeks, to which you leaned against his touch. "oh baby, you think i'd come here unprepared?" he chuckles, tone teasing as he pushes your cockhead into his awaiting hole while he thumbs your skin to soothe you, softening the creases that formed on your face. "now go ahead, put it in me, darling."

baizhu had bite down his bottom lip until he bled to stop himself from screaming, his back arched at the burning stretch as you slowly plunged your fat cock into his hole. no matter how much he prepared himself to take you, he still found himself getting split open by your sheer girth. he didn't expect you to be so big, his gummy walls fluttering around your throbbing cock.

you moaned, louder than before, when you bottomed out, patiently waiting for him to adjust to your length, like the gentleman you were, but you were grinding your hips against his. you clung tightly onto baizhu, overwhelmed at the warmth that surrounded your virgin cock as his pussy clamps down on you, sucking you in deeper.

all the while baizhu felt like he was high above the clouds, being stuffed full just by your dick inside of him—his body was elated, forked tongue poking out between his lips as he stared up at your eyes, full of lust and desire.

cursing underneath your breath, you grew weak on the knees, the blistering heat slowly spreading all over your body; from your stomach, crawling upwards and onto your chest, to the very tips of your toes. it was almost paralyzing, his insides squeezing your poor, sensitive cock, wrapped in mind-breaking euphoria.

"that's it," he sighs, pressing kisses all over your face, reassuring, though amused. "such a good boy, already so fucked out by just penetrating me?" baizhu smirks, his fingers playing with the curves of your face. you whine at his words, very embarrassed as you bury your face in his neck.

"hah- this feels-" you swallow a mouthful of saliva, panting and groaning at the foreign sensations, twitching and pulsing deep inside of him, "all i can think about is fucking you—it's your doing, right?"

baizhu bats his eyelashes innocently at you, tilting his head as he hums. "oh darling, you can't blame me for every nasty thought that invades your mind," he purrs teasingly, grinning playfully when you give him a huff. "i am flattered, though."

it didn't take long before baizhu told you to start moving. it started off slow, gentle, and unsure, eyes searching for baizhu's guidance. it made his heart soar at how adorable you were, pouting as you sloppily thrust into him, exerting much effort to not lose yourself in the pleasure. you wanted to please him, so attentive and caring to his body.

don't worry, baizhu is more than happy to tell you what to do. he taught you many things you never knew before, to angle your dick just right, hitting a spot buried deep inside of him that made him curl his toes and cry out in delight—to ram your fat cock into his sopping wet cunt as he clenches on you, bucking your hips fast and hard.

baizhu throws his head back, smiling and clawing at your biceps, leaving red, angry scratches on them. he moans your name, nothing but praise coming out of his plump lips and drowning your thoughts with addictive lust. "you're fucking into me soooo nicely, darling~" he gasped when you kept precisely hitting his sensitive spot, his walls spasming and convulsing around your ravishing cock.

you grasped his thighs, gripping on them so tightly it's bound to leave bruises as you follow his every order, fucking him just how he liked, the loud slapping of skin on skin filling your once peaceful bedroom. it turns you on further on how vile the wet squelch it makes at each thrust you give. you held onto him for your dear life, fucking him with all your strength, body trembling from the unbearable pleasure.

moaning and whimpering, your head hung as drool dripped down onto his chest, body compelled to keep moving. it felt so good, each drag of your cock inside of his velvety walls felt like fire onto your skin, each squeeze and grind, it's making you mad, completely hooked on the feeling.

"such an obedient pup," baizhu coos and you let out a whine at his praise, eyes wide and glittering with unshed tears, and his heart skips a beat when he saw how easily fucked out you were. "does it feel good? hm? my pussy feels good around your cock?" you nod vigorously, leaning closer to him and angling yourself to reach even deeper. it made baizhu take a sharp intake of air, moaning obscenely into your ear.

"f-fuuckk! hgnn~ c-c'mon, use your words~" he smiles when you choke on a moan, never stopping your movements even for a second. "you're a good boy, aren't you? i know you can do it, talk to me~"

"s-stop-" you heaved, voice garbled as you tried to speak between your filthy sounds, nails digging into his skin. his voice was like honey to your ears, drowning in the thick viscousness of his sickeningly sweet words, making it difficult for you to properly think. it was all too much, and he wasn't making it easy for you.

"oh? you don't like praise?" his golden eyes shone brightly, and his nails grazed your skin painfully, but you reveled in the pain, panting, and shaking as baizhu cupped your face into his hands. "how about i call you a filthy whore instead? wanting to fuck a succubus that could drain your life away~" he whispers into your ear with such a haughty lilt in his voice, tongue licking your earlobe.

even though he was getting fucked by your fat cock, drilling into his insides until it all felt like numbing mush, moaning in delight as he wraps his legs impossibly tighter around you, keeping you close and never letting you go, he has you under his control. it was as if he owned your body, and you would only obey him.

it made your head fuzzy just thinking about it.

"you like being told what to do, hm? like some mutt?"

his words were like electric shocks down your spine, you couldn't help but pound harder into his warm, addicting cunt, a cry leaving your lips when he clamped down onto your cock once more. like a hand, gripping tightly onto something he owns, and in this case, your cock belongs to his pussy.

"oh my!" he grits his teeth as he lets out a long, drawn-out moan, pulling your head to his chest as he rolls his eyes back. "shit, hnff- t-that god you more excited, huh? so pussy drunk that you're only thinking with your dick~"

suddenly, you let out a shout, squeezing your eyes shut and burying as deep as you could inside of baizhu, a tear rolling down your cheek as you shot thick ropes of your cum straight into his starving womb. and oh, baizhu took it all, a small, joyous yes yes yes! leaving his lips as he moved his hips against yours, not giving you a moment's rest as he fucks himself onto you.

you didn't know what came over you after you orgasmed into his welcoming pussy, but when the mark on his womb glowed a vibrant green, your body kept moving on its own, despite the sting of overstimulation overcoming your senses. you fucked him, again and again, pressing the pad of your thumb against his clit and fiercely rubbing it as you burrow into him, mind blank.

your body shivered, sobbing and drooling as you absentmindedly followed baizhu's every command, twitching and burning from the numbing pleasure, yet your body refused to stop, even after you've come numerous amounts of times inside of him.

baizhu's hair became a mess as he greedily took every load you'd spilled, absolutely obsessed at the warmth of your seed filling up his insides and forming a creamy ring on your cock. you looked so handsome crying, begging him for a break, and that you can't take it anymore.

despite this, you let him milk your cock for all it's worth, pumping him full until it leaks out of his hole, his ankles were now resting on your shoulders. you were so lost in the pleasure, hiccuping as you cum again for the nth time.

just one more, he promised, though he pushed you back, turning your bodies around so baizhu was straddling your lap. he began to ride you, with expert movements that had you mewling, your arm covering your face, moaning into the night, holding no regards for your neighbors through your thin walls.

his nails marked your chest, making it bleed along his scratches, grinding his hips onto yours. gods, you felt so fucking good, it was difficult for him to pull away. your length and girth were just perfect, his blood boiling in thrill and excitement just by having you inside of him. he wanted more and more, drinking in as much as you could give him. your essence was just so delectable, irresistible. it was all he could ever want to eat.

you moan in sync, watching baizhu as he arches his back so prettily on top of you, creaming around your cock. you could tell he was just as sensitive as you were, but his hips ceased to stop. shakily, you reached for his tail, which possessively curled around your fingers.

gently, as you always are, you kiss the heart-shaped tip of his tail, watery eyes, so unfocused, but stared into baizhu's eyes, so full of tenderness that it snapped him out of his frenzied stupor.

baizhu gasps, cradling your face into his hands as he frets over you when your head falls, catching your breath as if you've run a marathon. "oh archons," he calls your name, shaking you lightly, "are you okay!? im so sorry, i didn't mean to- i got carried away!" hearing the distress in his voice, you only put your hand atop of his, kissing his palms and giving him an adoring smile.

"m'fine," you rasp, and before baizhu knows it, there was a faint click! right beside him, and light engulfs your room. your eyes light up when you finally see him, his eyes wide in shock. "hah, knew it was you."

"you-i-" instead of reacting how he always thought you would, as all others have, you grabbed his hands, and pressed long, loving kisses on each knuckle. baizhu's stomach was doing flips at each kind gesture, and he was now acutely aware of how he could feel your seed sloshing in his womb whenever he moved. his cheeks flush in embarrassment. "y-you weren't supposed to see me!" he glares at you, fangs bared threateningly.

though you can't bring yourself to fear him—not when he's panting, covered in sweat that gleamed at the orange light from your lamp, his face red, and eyes still full of carnal desire. but you know, behind his hunger, was nothing but love, adoring and fragile. "it's okay," you whisper as you sit yourself up, leaning back against the headboard, "it's okay to be seen."

your fingers twirled around a loose strand of his hair, planting a kiss on it while your eyes were on him, other hand caressing the ever-glowing mark on his swelling tummy. "please, let me see you." you kiss his jawline, and baizhu groans when you press onto his abdomen, so full—both of your lust and love. "let me love you."

his eyes burned as he let you wrap your arms around him, engulfing him in a hug he has long yearned from you. "go ahead, love," his skin crawls at the pet name, rolling so naturally from your tongue, so heavenly to his ears. "i know you still need more. i can take it."

baizhu has a lot of worries, especially concerning you. but at that moment, when you held him so tenderly, connected, with nothing but love in your gaze and a smile on your lips as you kissed him—it felt like everything was alright.

the world was nothing, and it was just the two of you, in each other's arms, lips locked; nothing could separate the two of you.

he may have fears, ones that will probably never go away for as long as he lives. but with you saying his name so softly, caressing his sensitive skin, and telling him it was okay for him to keep taking from you, despite your creeping exhaustion—he wants to have you by his side for a little longer, if not, forever.

because with you, baizhu thinks that everything will be fine.

"...just say you want more of me," he replies, hiding his face from you, to which you merely laughed at. "you freak... letting a succubus fuck you..."

"please, stop ignoring my heartfelt confessions and countering them with something mean," you pout, your thumb wiping away the stray tear that trailed down his cheek.

baizhu just pins you down, grinding his hips and making you roll your eyes, mouth open from a breathless moan. "keep quiet pet, i'm not done with you." he threatens, but you just smile,

"i love you."

gods, he hates how this all feels so normal with you, his poor heart that was boarded up in the beginning, all so vulnerable and raw before you.

but perhaps,

"...i love you too."

everything will be quite alright.

#» asmo's writings #» asmo's series: monsterfucking 2nite!#» baizhu #baizhu x reader #baizhu x male reader #baizhu smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x male reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut

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urdadsceilingfan · 6 months

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Two post one day cause he’s so *explodes*

I will never understand leather but I’m going to pretend I do

#markiplier egos #my silly art #cool patrol mark #guys please I love him sm

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lizzieisright · 6 months

Text

She looks like fun

dom!reader x sub!Abby

Summary: During the patrol you find a pretty pleated skirt. In Abby's size.

Tags: okay, here we go fingering, oral, strap usage, strap sucking, Abby wears a skirt and a collar for sexy purposes, scene negotiation, safewords (traffic lights), aftercare, Abby and R are switches.

wc: 6.5k (it's a huge bitch, but 1.5k is a sfw part in the beginning)

a/n: listen I love when girls wear short pleated skirts, and Abby is not an exception.

MINORS DON'T INTERACT I'll hunt you for sport

-/-/-/-/-/-/-

It’s rare to find something worthy when you’re out on the patrol, and you try to contain your disappointment every time - mostly because you hate losing and you and Abby have a rivalry going on who can bring more cool shit for the other. It’s romantic and sappy and also it drives you both crazy since you’re competitive. (people said hate sex was hot - have you tried sex after your super competitive partner loses to you? The best thing ever). So usually you won’t be happy at the end of your patrol.

But today you manage to get into a store that hasn’t been raided yet, so you start taking everything you see - people need clothes all the time, and it’s valuable. You put a mark on your map so others can go there later to take the rest and you go to women’s section, not feeling optimistic: the fabric is worse, the sizes are fucked, and even if you find something nice it tends to not last long.

But then you see it.

On the rack next to jeans there’s a rack with skirts - and why the fuck you’d stop to look at them? - but the skirts are pleated skirts. Short pleated skirts that cover ass just enough to be socially acceptable.

You can’t stop looking at them - you’ve seen before how nice they flow and how absolutely delicious girls look in them.

But it’s so not Abby’s style.

But she’ll look so good in one of these skirts.

She will probably tell you to go fuck yourself if you show it to her.

You pack it in your backpack anyway.

“Found something?” Abby asks as she comes inside the shop. “Oh wow. This is nice.”

“Choose whatever you want, my treat.” You say with a cocky smirk and Abby rolls her eyes.

“It doesn’t count.”

“You’re being unfair.” You whine as Abby makes her way to you.

“No, I’m not.” Abby murmurs. “This store is a public service, where is your personal touch?”

“You’ll talk shit just to keep your score, huh?” You smirk and Abby gives you a peck on your lips before diving into the racks to find something for herself.

The skirt gets a buddy in the form of a tight cropped white t-shirt and you don’t tell Abby about it.

The week passes and you still don’t talk about that damn skirt even though you can’t stop thinking about Abby wearing it: how it would hug her round butt and how her thick thighs would be so shamelessly out for you. You think about how cute she’d look walking around your shared space, the skirt bouncing and almost showing you everything. You think about the possibility of Abby not wearing any underwear under it, and how hot it would be to lift the skirt up and touch her and make her moan. You think about Abby all sprawled out with your head under that skirt, making a mess out of it.

Abby is not an idiot, so she notices the change in your mood for the last few days. She knows something is on your mind, so she catches you off guard, with her fingers buried deep inside you.

“Come on baby, tell me what’s been bothering you.” Abby murmurs into your ear while her fingers relentlessly hit the spot that makes you see stars.

“Shit- what?” You ask, totally lost in your pleasure.

“You’re keeping something from me. So share.” Abby kisses your neck and you try really hard not to cum, but your thighs start to shake.

“Fuck- the fucking skirt-”

And you see Abby in that skirt, all cute and shy, and you spasm around real Abby’s fingers, cumming with a groan. Abby is too distracted with watching you go through your orgasm, still fucking you, and you both forget about the topic.

Until you’re calmed down and Abby is satisfied with how fucked out you are. Then she remembers.

“Skirt?”

Shit, you think. Now you’ll have to explain it to Abby who definitely will tell you to fuck off.

“I took a skirt from that store we found. It’s a pleated skirt, a cute one.”

“So? You want to wear it?”

“I want you to wear it.”

Abby is silent, and you expect it, so you already drop the subject in your head, letting it go. But Abby is not letting it go.

“You want me to wear a skirt?”

“If you want to, obviously. I think you'll be so hot in it. But I know it’s not your style.”

“It’s really not.” Abby chuckles. “So that’s why you’ve been so spacey lately? Thinking about me in a skirt?”

“Yeah. Can’t stop thinking about your pretty butt in it.” You kiss Abby’s neck and flip her on her back. “You’d look so cute.” You kiss Abby’s abs as you make your way down. “I’d run my hands under your pretty little skirt and you’ll just take it like a good girl, yeah?”

This shift is always beautiful: she just fucked your brains out, but a couple of words and your head between her legs makes Abby go pliant and soft, her big blue eyes giving you a Bambi.

“Holy fuck.” Abby sighs and you smile into her pussy. “I’ll wear it for you.”

The hungry monster inside you roars and claws at your chest.

Abby walks funny the next day.

You don’t actually expect Abby to wear it - after all, what is said under horny subby fog can’t be held accountable. Abby is really not a girly girl - fuck, it’d be easier to make you wear a skirt (after getting shot and stabbed repeatedly, mind you), and you understand that Abby might not be comfortable with this idea.

But you leave the skirt and the t-shirt on the bed one day to give her the choice. When you come back, it's gone.

Next time the skirt topic comes up when you're taking a bath together - a rare luxury, so you enjoy every second of feeling Abby's warm skin against yours.

"Do you still want me to wear a skirt?" If you were relaxed a second ago, now you're suddenly alert.

"Only if you want it too." You kiss her shoulder.

"And if I wear it..?" Abby gives you space to finish the phrase for her.

"I'll fuck you on every surface in this apartment." Abby laughs, but you know what she wants to know. "Yeah, I want it to be a scene." You take a second. "Do you want me to plan it?"

"Yeah."

You freeze for a second, not really believing your luck - Abby doesn't ask for a scene plan unless she wants to do it, and right now it means she will wear a skirt for you.

"Fuck baby, you're going to wear it for me?" You ask excitedly, squeezing her in your arms. "With a t-shirt too?"

"Yeah, yeah. Don't let it get into your head."

"We have a few free days next week, right? Is it okay?"

"Yes, you horndog." Abby laughs and you bite her gently.

So you spend the next days planning what you would do with Abby, writing a short list of kinks so she could veto whatever she doesn't want to happen or add something she wants to happen (the ropes last time? Her idea). She still won't know in which order everything will happen or where exactly, or even when in some cases, to save the magic of the moment, but in order to feel safe with each other, you write your lists every time, unless you both get spontaneously in the mood and have to negotiate on the fly.

You pass your list to Abby and as she reads it, her face warms up in a pretty red colour, just like apples in the garden.

"Okay." Abby smiles at you. "This sounds good. But I pulled my shoulder today, so I won't be able to get on my hands and knees."

"Fuck, I'll give a massage later." You say, worried. "Okay, that's fine, no doggy."

"We can do that one, when you push the pillow under me?"

You swallow in horny, the pictures flying through your head, as you scribble it down on your list.

"Fuck yes. Are you going to be fine like this? You still put your arms up."

"It's not that bad." Abby shrugs. "I want to add something."

You nod eagerly, always ready to give Abby whatever she wants. Abby walks away to go through her backpack and comes back to you, giving you a piece of small leather belt. It's too small for any human, and just as your brain starts to catch up, Abby drops the bomb on you.

"Collar me."

You blink a few times, not believing your ears.

"I'll fucking destroy you, Abs." You say, your voice low and dark.

You had this talk before, and Abby was honestly weirded out by the ritual of collaring, so you decided not to add it, especially since you weren't in a 24/7 dynamic and not in fixed roles either. And you know Abby doesn't mean putting this collar as the collar, but it is still so hot. The whole thing is not done by the book or by rules, but you really don't care: whatever Abby wants, Abby gets.

"I will want to tug on it." You tell her, honestly, and Abby thinks for a second.

"Yeah, okay. Traffic lights, then."

You nod and add "collaring" in your messy handwriting.

You know Abby will wear this skirt, it's not a surprise, but you're still not prepared when you walk into the kitchen.

Abby is standing there, and you trail her bare legs up until you see the edge of the skirt and holy fuck. Holy fuck she looks good in it, her trained perky ass making the folds of the skirt to look especially delicious. You lick your lips as your fingers twitch, because you want to lift it already and get a look at her pretty little pussy.

And your eyes go up and you see this tight t-shirt that shows all the muscles in Abby's back and shoulders and you want to bite her and mark her.

"Wow, princess." You sigh and make your way to her, squeezing her waist. Abby jumps, surprised, but relaxes against you. "You look so fucking pretty."

"Thank you."

"Give me a twirl, will you?" You step away to give her space.

Abby is clearly embarrassed, but she does the cutest twirl in the world and yes, you can see her ass. And she is not wearing underwear, just as you told her.

"Beautiful." You murmur and run your hand up her thigh, lifting the skirt just a little. "You wanna watch something? I brought this from the library."

You show her the dvd and Abby is still tethered to reality, so she reads the summary carefully.

"Sounds okay. Not like the last time."

"Fuck you, baby." You pinch her side in revenge. "Let's go."

It seems so normal. It seems like any other day off, you and Abby sitting on the couch, but even as you pretend to watch the movie, you see how twitchy Abby is getting.

She plays with the ham of her skirt and it's so fucking cute - but then she smooths the fabric and you feel like you're going to explode: Abby enjoys wearing it. Abby likes it in a way that a girl who was forced to grow up in a horrible fucking world would enjoy doing normal girly things.

Maybe Abby is not not so girly after all.

Your heart feels tender right now and you can't help but to put your hand on her thigh, drawing little circles on her sensitive skin.

"Do you like it?"

"A little predictable, but still better." Abby shrugs and squeaks when you squeeze her thigh. "Yeah." She is shy now. "I feel pretty."

"You are pretty, princess." You whisper in her ear, making her shudder.

But you don't do anything else. You keep watching the movie, caressing Abby's thigh and pretend not to notice the change in her breathing. Then Abby starts shifting a little and you look down to see her nipples perked up. The fabric is rubbing against her sensitive skin and you just wait, because in a minute you feel how Abby tries to press her thighs together, thinking she is sneaky.

You chuckle and move your hand under the skirt, slowly parting her folds. Abby tries to keep her whimper to herself, but you feel how wet she is.

"What's got you so worked up, pretty girl?" You ask innocently while you brush your thumb over Abby's clit.

"Nothing." Abby breathes out and you chuckle.

"Really?" You wonder and pick up the speed, flicking Abby's clit until she presses her thighs together.

It's such a pretty sight: your hand under Abby's skirt, squeezed by her warm thighs, her knees pressed together. Abby is biting her lip and you watch her while your fingers tease her relentlessly. She looks desperate and helpless, and you live for it.

"Were you thinking exactly about this? How good I will make you feel under your pretty skirt?" You gently bite Abby's neck and she joists. "But we are watching a movie, princess, and I'm really interested in it. So you will give a narration while I play with your pretty pussy." You can't give less fucks about this movie, but making life harder for Abby is your favourite game.

"Yes, ma'am." Abby is not fully in the subspace yet, so she feels a little shy, but she crumbles completely when your eyes meet.

You slide down to the floor and make Abby put her feet by her sides for better access. The skirt falls between her legs and covers her cunt, and you lean back to look at her. Abby is blushing and frowning in desperation, her nipples are perking through the t-shirt and her plushy thighs are open so shamelessly for you.

"You stop talking, I stop touching you." You warn Abby and she nods. "Now lift your shirt up."

Abby does as she told and now this is a sight, her small tits squeezed by the t-shirt, her abs flexing as she breathes deeply. Abby already looks ruined and you haven't done anything yet.

"What is happening there?" You ask routinely and lift Abby's skirt up, revealing her soaked little cunt. You spread her lips open and circle her clit with your thumb.

"She is- she is at work again." Abby sighs and you hum, encouraging her. "She is talking to the cigarette selling woman." It sounds like Abby is relieved when she finishes her line and you laugh to yourself: your poor baby is trying to be good for you.

You leave her clit alone and push two fingers in slowly, watching her body react to you as beautiful as always. Abby freezes and instead of watching the movie, watches your fingers disappear in her.

"I'll take them out." You threaten and Abby snaps back into watching.

"There's this creepy guy," Abby swallows hard when you start slowly pumping your fingers in and out. "And she has an idea- fuck." You just curled your fingers and Abby stops watching again, but quickly opens her eyes.

"What's the idea?"

"She wants the sell- ah, fuck - selling lady and the- the-" You pick up the speed of your fingers and Abby clutches to your shoulders. You reach with your free hand and pinch her nipple, and Abby twitches in response, her pussy clenches on you. "Fuck, it feels so good, ma'am."

"And I'm yet to hear about her idea." You say with a hint of a threat, but your thrusts only get rougher.

"She is playing matchmaker, ohmygod!" Abby whimpers and in reward you lick the long strip from your fingers buried in her pussy to her neglected clit. You suck on it and Abby lets out a shriek as her knees are closing up above your head. "Fuck, oh god- I can't-"

You keep sucking on her clit until she is shaking and moaning, but then you move away and take out your fingers.

"Is she still playing matchmaker?" You ask sternly. Abby blinks and checks the screen.

"No."

"That's what I fucking thought." You knead Abby's thighs a little painfully and keep her legs open for you. "Keep talking, princess."

Abby nods feverishly and swallows. Such a pretty fucking sight, you think as you look up to her: Abby's mouth is open and she really tries so hard to watch this stupid movie, but you push your fingers inside again and all her efforts go to waste as she twitches and blinks very fast in a attempt to not close her eyes.

"She is telling the selling lady that the creepy g- fuck-" Abby sobs when you put your mouth back on her. You play with her clit and suck on it again, making Abby buck her hips into your face. "The- the creepy guy is in- ma'am! - is in love with her!"

You push Abby's legs together and up, almost folding her in half and push your tongue alongside your fingers, getting drunk on her taste. Abby is a smart girl, so she holds herself under her knees to help you and moans when she feels your tongue and your fingers inside. Abby always tastes and feels like heaven, and you never want to leave her pussy alone.

"Ma'am I'm gonna cum." Abby whimpers and you get rough, every push of your fingers is moving Abby's whole body with the sheer force of it, because Abby is not behaving.

"Is her idea working?" You suck on her clit again and Abby whines and sobs while forcing herself to look at the screen.

"Y-yes!" Abby shouts and cums on your fingers, sucking them in on every spasm. You pick up the pace and Abby tries to fight you off, but you slap her hand away and fuck her through her orgasm until her thighs are shaking uncontrollably. Abby is whimpering on every exhale, her abs are twitching, and you smile wolfishly.

"You did so good, princess." You let Abby's legs go gently and fix her skirt, smoothing the fabric. Abby looks at you with pleading eyes and your heart swells, so you straighten up and kiss her slowly and delicately. Abby relaxes and caresses your neck, chasing your mouth, and you can’t help yourself as you pinch her nipples playfully.

“You want your collar?” You ask softly and Abby nods eagerly. “Show me how good your throat is first.”

Bratty Abby is fun, and you like the back and forth of it, but good girl Abby makes you feral: you just told her what you want and she is already opening her mouth for you, sticking her tongue out.

“Good fucking girl.” You growl and push your fingers down her throat.

You fuck Abby’s throat until she is gurgling and her eyes roll back into her skull: you know she likes it, likes to relax her throat and let you use her as you wish. Abby is not even gagging now, so used to it, but you can feel how her throat clenches on you sometimes. Abby looks so cute like this, her tits out, her eyes closed and her thighs pressed together under the skirt as it spreads so prettily around her hips.

“Beautiful.” You murmur and clean up her spit from her chin. Abby smiles at you, clearly pleased from praise, and you kiss her again as a reward. Abby likes kisses, especially if she is needy, as if it keeps her tethered to you. "Show me your neck, princess."

Abby straightens up and proudly shows you her neck - she is so cute you can't help your giggle. You take out the small belt and Abby looks at you with wide eyes as if you’re her god.

"Mine." You tell her when you tighten the collar around her neck. "You're mine."

"Yours, ma'am." Abby answers in a small voice and you see how any rational thought leaves Abby’s head as her eyes get cloudy. "Can I touch it, ma'am?"

"Go ahead." You nod and watch her strong fingers that leave bruises on your thighs brush over the leather with such care. "We're not done, princess."

Abby nods and you tug on her collar until she stands up on her shaking legs and follows you to the bedroom. There's enough space for your fingers to fit in under the collar, but you're still careful with it: it's a new thing and you don't want to hurt Abby in a way she doesn't want to be hurt.

You lead Abby to the bed, but instead of getting her to lie down, you sit on the bed and tug on her collar to get her down on her knees. Abby slowly sits on her thighs and fixes the skirt again, and you just can't. She is so fucking cute in it, and you can see the curve of her hips in the mirror, her waist looks tiny and the dips along her spine are so fucking hot.

You caress Abby's cheekbone with your thumb, adoring her, and she blooms. Abby likes subbing because she's loved so fully at her weakest and most vulnerable like she's never been before - she's literally on her knees, with a collar around her neck and in a skirt and you look at her like she is divine.

"Is your throat good enough for my cock too, princess?" You ask with a teasing smirk, palming your strap through the fabric of your pants.

"Yes ma'am. I'll be so good for you." Abby pleads and grabs at your thighs before she remembers herself.

"Too eager for your own good, huh?" You weave your fingers through her hair at the back, right under the braid, holding her head up. "Come on, get to work."

Abby tugs your pants down and you can see in the mirror how she presses her thighs together when she sees your strap, and that won't do.

"Spread your legs and arch your back, I wanna see how wet you're gonna get."

Abby does exactly as she is told, even lifting herself up a little so she could reach your lap, and you see her skirt covering everything. It's a downside, but Abby is smart, so she pushes the skirt to the front just enough for it to go up and your grip in her hair tightens from how sexy she looks. The edge of the skirt is now reaching to the middle of her ass and you see her wet pussy glisten; the contrast of her waist to hips ratio makes her ass look even better, and you feel like you're gonna cum just from watching Abby getting wet.

"Fucking beautiful." You growl and Abby even shakes her ass a little to make it jiggle. "Focus, princess." You tell her sternly, and Abby arches into you even more.

You tug Abby's head back and she opens her mouth automatically, so you push your cock inside just a little - Abby wraps her lips around the head and you let go of her hair, letting her run the show and have fun. Abby leaves wet open mouthed kisses along the length of your strap and you hum in approval, petting her head. She is blushing and her freckles look so pretty on her pink cheeks, her eyelashes flatter when she closes her eyes and licks the whole length of your strap. The movements cause the harness to move against your clit and your breathing gets heavier - you didn't expect it to happen, you must've put the harness in a different way - and Abby notices how tense are your thighs under her hands. She makes eye contact with you to check in, and you smile at her.

"You're doing so good princess, you might make me cum if you keep it up."

Abby whimpers when she hears it - it's very rare for you to even allow her to touch you when you dom her, let alone make you cum, but Abby wants to. She always wants to please you in any way she's allowed to.

"Please let me make you cum, ma'am." Abby begs, looking at you with her big doe eyes.

"You can try, princess." You chuckle, not very sure that she can, but Abby seems determined.

Abby lifts up a little again and lowers her head on your cock, taking as much as she can while she still can breathe, and when she comes back up, the harness grinds against your clit, making you hiss. Abby wiggles in excitement and starts to bob her head up and down, getting dizzy from hearing your panting and hissing above her.

"Just like that, babygirl." You pant and put your hand on Abby's head, slightly pushing the strap deeper. "You can take it, right?" You coo and Abby moans in agreement. "Good girl. Relax for me."

You hold Abby's head by her braid and push your strap deeper and deeper while Abby's eyes roll back into her skull. There is something so comforting about having her throat stuffed Abby can't help herself but to go absolutely slack while you fuck her throat, grunting and panting as your own pleasure builds up.

"Ride your fingers, princess, I know you want to."

Fucking hell, you think as you watch Abby pump her fingers in and out in the mirror, her thighs and ass look so delicious with the skirt on. Abby moans and whimpers as you fuck her throat and she fucks herself, and you know you're not going to last long.

Your grip tightens in her hair and Abby whimpers, and you can see in the mirror how rough she is being with herself, desperate to cum.

"Fuck-" You whimper and buck your hips up to get more friction and the same time as Abby swallows you down, and the pressure ticks you off right away.

Your thighs shake and your hips buck, chasing the aftershocks of your orgasm while Abby watches you with wide eyes, her own fingers forgotten. She is not even breathing, absolutely mesmerised by your reactions - she made you cum, she made you cum without even touching you.

You pant, still twitching from your orgasm, but you find the strength to move Abby away from the strap despite her whining.

"Come here." You tug on her collar again to make her move and Abby straddles you. "Holy fuck." You whisper when you look at her. "My best girl." You kiss Abby's shoulder and she giggles.

"Thank you, ma'am."

You smile at her and then lie down on the bed, tugging on Abby's hips so she would move. Abby is bright red - for some reason she is still so shy when you make her sit on your face - but she moves up, until her thighs are by the sides of your face. Abby can't even look at you, her eyelashes casting shadows on her cheeks.

“Look at me.” You tell her and Abby steals a glance at you, which is not what you wanted. “I said look at me.”

And Abby looks, tries her hardest to maintain eye contact with you as you push her down on your face, burying yourself in her soaked pussy.

Abby whines when you suck on her sensitive clit since she's been close after fucking herself earlier. You don't waste any time and eat her out messily, getting her wetness all over your face as you devour her, fucking her with your tongue, rubbing and sucking her clit, while Abby writhes on top of you.

“Oh god-” She sobs and you grab a handful of her hips, pulling her skirt up so you can see her. “I'm gonna-”

And that is exactly your cue to stop, leaving Abby panting and whimpering on top of you. You watch her pretty clit throb from being so close to orgasm and smirk.

Abby is confused and there's a tiniest hint of hurt on her face: she did such a good job and you are not letting her cum?

You chuckle and signal her to move.

“Lie down on your stomach.” You tell her and while Abby does as she is told, you fix your harness and grab a pillow to put it under Abby's hips.

Seeing Abby's fat thighs pressed together with her wet glistening hole between them makes you want to ruin her. The sight of your strong, dangerous girlfriend all shy and pretty and in this damn skirt makes you froth at your mouth like a fucking dog. Abby makes you feel like the most unhinged obsessed creep and the way she welcomes your dark side - as you think of it - is why you would die for her at any moment.

You can't help the possessive bite you leave on her neck, practically growling into her ear.

“You're mine.” You tell her and Abby nods, shows her neck with a collar on it.

“Yours.” She whispers and bucks her hips into you, presenting herself for you.

You line your strap up and push inside, feeling how tight Abby is from being so close to an orgasm.

“It's a pity you can't see yourself, princess.” You tell her as you watch the head of your strap slowly disappear in her hole. “You're close, aren't you?”

“Please, ma'am.” Abby whimpers and you part her ass cheeks to give yourself a show.

“Please what?”

“Please fuck me.” Abby says and you smile.

“You can do better than that.”

You're not usually the “beg me” type, but now you want Abby to be desperate. You keep pushing extremely slowly, teasing Abby and moving away when she bucks her hips.

“Please, I need you.” Abby starts shyly and oh, what a great idea it is. “Ma'am, I need you, please fuck me, only you can make me feel good, please-”

You push all the way in in one go and Abby moans loudly.

“Good fucking girl.” You growl and pick a hard pace right away, slamming into Abby so hard her ass jiggles. Abby sobs and her back tenses: she feels you so deep and she is so tight in this position, and she is so fucking close. You knead her ass through the skirt and just watch your strap disappear in Abby, fucking her mercilessly.

“Ma’am-” Abby whimpers and holds the pillow under her head for dear life, trying to hold off her orgasm. “Can I-” Abby doesn't get to finish her sentence as your next thrust knocks the air out of her.

“Cum, babygirl.” You tell her gently while you thrust into Abby's tight little pussy with force, grabbing her hips for stability.

Abby coils and lifts her ass as her orgasm rips through her body like an electric shock, and you chuckle, satisfied, your movements slowing down. You're not stopping, still moving inside her, and Abby squeezes her thighs together under you, whimpering.

“Relax, princess, and let me have you.” You murmur into her ear and continue fucking her slowly, watching your strap come out of her covered in her cum.

Abby genuinely tries to relax, but she is sensitive right now and your cock drags along her walls so slowly it drives her crazy. She likes feeling so stuffed, so full of you, but now she wants to cum again.

“Ma'am, please go faster.” Abby asks you and you chuckle.

“You're so impatient.” You tsk and slap her ass cheek lightly, watching it jiggle. “You're gonna cum like this or not at all, understood?”

“Yes ma'am.” Abby says, humbled, but her voice breaks in a moan when you push inside to the hilt. “Fuck.”

You smile and pull out just to push back and Abby clutches to the pillow, her whole body feels like she is on fire. You don't make it easier as your lips travel over her sensitive back, every touch of your hot tongue makes her tighten around your strap and moan pathetically.

Abby is so close and so, so fucking far away from her orgasm and you know it, so you continue thrusting into her slowly until Abby starts to squirm and misbehave as she pushes back, chasing your strap.

“Stop it.” You tell her sternly and push her lower back into the bed to stop her from moving.

“Ma'am, please!” Abby whines.

You tug on her collar quite roughly and press your lips to her ear.

“Such a brat.” You growl and slam into Abby roughly, making her squeal. “Turn on your side.”

And that's how Abby ends up being fucked roughly from behind while you squeeze her throat and play with her clit relentlessly, bringing her to the edge immediately. Your pelvis hits her ass at every thrust and Abby whines and whimpers, her eyes rolled back, her head absolutely empty. Abby feels like she doesn’t exist anymore, only your hands and your voice and your cock do - and she feels so fucking good.

“Ma’am-” Abby moans frantically. “It feels so good, you feel so good, thankyouthankyouthankyou” Is all you can hear between Abby’s sobs. You smile darkly and fuck her harder until she shrieks and cums again.

But you don’t stop. You keep fucking Abby through her orgasm, you keep fucking her when she whines from being too sensitive, you keep fucking her even when she tries to move your hand away from her clit.

“Ma’am, it’s too much- I can’t-”

“You can take it.” You pant into her ear. “You wanted to cum so much before, so keep cumming.”

And Abby does, with another sob. She cums again, and again, until it becomes too much for real, and her face is wet with tears. She feels like overstimulation now hurts more than pleases, and maybe you’re right, she has another one in her, but Abby feels exhausted.

“Yellow.” Abby sniffles, and you stop moving right away, carefully letting go of her tit, but not removing the strap yet in case it will hurt Abby.

“Too much?” You ask her gently and Abby nods. “Does something hurt?” You ask her with such care in your voice Abby wants to cry, because she feels like she could’ve gone longer and now she’s disappointed you.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Abby sniffles, and you get more alert than ever.

“Abby? Can I hug you?” Abby nods and you carefully wrap your arms around her and bury your face in her neck. “Talk to me, what’s wrong? Did I hurt you? Did I say something?”

“No- It’s just- It started to hurt and I’m tired- fuck, I’m sorry.”

“Baby, why are you saying sorry? It’s okay, you did good by using the safeword.”

“I just feel like I could go longer, I should not have stopped you.” Abby admits and sniffles again, ashamed - her emotions skyrocket in subspace.

“I don’t want you to push your limits to please me. How about we stop now, get clean and then cuddle and talk, if you want? How does it sound?”

“We can continue, I just need a moment.” Abby pleads as her guilt grows.

“I don't think we should, sweets.” That pet name makes Abby squeeze her eyes: you only use it when she is not allowed to argue. “It's okay. You're okay. You didn't do anything wrong.” You kiss her shoulder and Abby's head gets a little clearer. “Thank you for telling me, you did so well.”

This makes Abby feel a little better; she nods and squeezes your hand in return. You carefully remove the strap while Abby winces and then you help her get up and go to the bathroom, to shower.

You take her clothes and collar off, and Abby doesn’t look at you, still beating herself up, but you won’t have it. So when you two get into the shower and water starts to wash the sweat and cum off both of you, you take her face in your hands and kiss her cheeks, her nose, her eyes and forehead, everywhere really. Just small gentle kisses, until Abby smiles and looks at you bashfully.

“You have the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen.” You tell her honestly and Abby blushes, but her mood seems to go up.

You wash both of you gently, carefully going over Abby’s crotch, and she relaxes under your arms. You dry both of you after and help Abby change into her pjs. She gets under the blankets and you kiss her forehead before going to the kitchen and getting some food for both of you.

When you return with two plates and a big cup, Abby looks sleepily at you, seemingly calm. But you know her, you know how guilt can eat her alive, so you keep being alert.

“Drink this first.” You give Abby warm water with honey and she drinks it, scrunching her nose from the sweetness of it. Then you eat in comfortable silence, both noticing with surprise how hungry you were - which should not be a surprise by now, really. You finish your food and clean up so you can cuddle Abby and sooth her. Abby gets on top of you and you caress her hair and shoulders absentmindedly.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better.” Abby sounds more sober now too. “I just-” She huffs, annoyed at herself. “I dunno how to explain. I could've gone longer.”

“I don't want to hurt you. Not in a way you don't enjoy.” You remind her. Abby loves you so much she is scared to fuck everything up, and it led to some problems before, when she put your needs above hers. You talked about it, but sometimes, especially if Abby subs, she slips and does it again. This is exactly why you have a “sweets” rule: to stop her before she hurts both of you with her sacrifices.

“I just feel like I'm..weak.” Abby admits and you chuckle.

“You're not. You're a grownup who can tell their limits, and I'm so happy you did.” You say kindly. “I trust you. You were so good for me today, including using the safeword.” You kiss the top of Abby's head and she hugs you tighter. “I'm sorry I didn't check in with you.”

Abby nods and looks up to you.

“We both agreed to this, right? We literally fucked around and found out.” You chuckle and reach out to grab the honey water for Abby.

“I know you hate it, but your throat needs it.”

Abby groans and drinks it, absolutely despising the honey: this is the only drawback of getting her throat fucked.

“Did you like the skirt?” Abby asks playfully.

“Yes. You looked so good in it, god. I got a little crazy.” You kiss her honey lips and Abby smiles into your mouth.

“Well, next time it's your turn.” She says seriously and you laugh.

“If you promise to not rip it apart.”

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson smut #sub!abby #abby anderson #abby tlou #this is my coping mechanism

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jinjeriffic · 3 months

Text

DCxDP Prophecy Universe Part 6

Part 5

Most of the time, being the son of Batman was a point of pride for Damian. Today, it was an exercise in frustration. Not only had Father deemed him too emotionally compromised to participate in the investigation of his so-called brother. Not only was he benched from patrol until Batman returned from abroad. He also had to continue attending school as if nothing had happened! He could probably teach most of the classes better than the adults! Oh, but ‘socializing with his peers’ was deemed too important to miss out on.

No wonder Damian was in a foul mood when he returned home. It had been the last school day before fall break, and a week ago he had been looking forward to the opportunity to patrol without having to worry about getting up early in the morning. Then that damned apparition had dropped the bombshell that had upended all of Damian’s carefully laid plans. Now half of the family was off chasing leads and he was stuck at home cooling his heels. It wasn’t fair!

After doing his customary check on his pets, he had changed into training gear as soon as possible and was now in the process of running through the latest combat program Father had designed. The flow of dodge-weave-counter-strike was helping him vent his frustration and clear his head. And if the training bots ended up more damaged than usual, well that just served Father right. He wasn’t some hapless child to be grounded!

Spin. Strike. Jump. Slash. He was moving on instinct, letting his training take over. A symphony of violence the background track to his churning thoughts, the questions that had been plaguing him all week.

Brother of blood. What did that mean? A full brother? A half brother? The result of some ill-advised dalliance of his Father? Unlikely. The letter had been addressed to Damian Al Ghul, not Damian Wayne. A deliberate choice of words, most likely. A child of his Mother then. He couldn’t imagine Mother would sully herself with another man’s touch. Even after everything, she still loved Father in her own twisted way. Unless Grandfather had ordered her… Stop it!

Stab. Crouch. Roll. Slice.

Never buried but already mourned. Not a lab grown creation then, to be discarded casually. Mourning meant caring. Love. Did Father know something? The haunted look that had appeared in his eyes spoke of old grief. The same grief that still plagued him when memories of Todd or Damian’s death were close to the surface. But he had never spoken of another child. Would he even bother to tell them?

Strike. Throw. Close distance. Disarm.

Lightning and ice. Defibrillation? Some horror movie style reanimation? Cryofreeze? The entity had meta abilities, could it harness lightning and ice as well? A better son, a more powerful Demon’s Heir… No!

Side-step. Kick. Twist. Leg-sweep.

Strike down the Demon’s Head. Did that mean Grandfather? Or Damian himself if the old man died first? It would be just like Grandfather to arrange for Damian to be killed and replaced by a brother. To get revenge for Damian choosing Batman’s legacy over the League’s while hurting their family in the most intimate way possible. Killed by a brother he should have loved, who should have loved him… Fool!

Damian stopped as the gong sounded to mark the end of the program. Around him, the training bots returned to their starting positions, now significantly worse for wear. A few of them were disabled to the point of uselessness.

Damian sheathed his weapons and forced his breathing to slow as he started his cool down stretches. It wouldn’t do to be careless because of some emotional episode. He was more disciplined than that.

What could Death earn anyway? Death brought nothing but nightmares and pain and torment.

Damian shivered. He didn’t like thinking about his Death.

Shoving the memories firmly aside, he returned his training weapons to their respective places before heading over to the Batcomputer. He needed a distraction. Maybe he should call up Jon and see if he had any plans for fall break. Since Damian was benched he would need something constructive to do with his time. Surely with the two of them working together they would find some kind of criminal enterprise to topple in a Kansas cornfield.

Damian compiled the search strings for any unusual activity in the area and set it to run. Now it was a waiting game to see if anything of note turned up. Leaning back, he idly kicked the console, sending his chair into a lazy spin. If nothing turned up in Kansas, maybe he would widen his search to the surrounding states. If they flew Air Superboy, distance would hardly be an issue. Hell, if Jon was busy maybe he could go visit Richard. Bludhaven was never lacking in crime, and Father wouldn’t be able to complain about a lack of appropriate supervision during patrol. With Drake and Todd having left on a ‘roadtrip’ for at least a day…

Damian stopped his spinning and frowned. Now that he thought about it, it was highly unusual for his two older brothers to have left Gotham together and in their civilian identities. Especially with the Bats already shorthanded due to Father’s absence and Robin’s benching. He had been too distracted by the upcoming school day to make the connection when his brothers had mentioned their plans at breakfast that morning. And Drake had been investigating League activity… Damian’s fingers flew across the keyboard, bypassing Drake’s security protocols with ease. If his brother had uncovered a League connection he had a right to know!

What he found among Drake’s recent search history was not what he expected. Some crackpot scientists from Illinois? That’s what had drawn his attention? Certainly, the older Robin had flagged some suspicious transactions and marked the Fentons as potential threats based on their inventions, but there were heroes closer to Amity Park that they could have foisted the investigation off on.

Damian drummed his fingers against his armrest. Something wasn’t adding up here. Pulling up everything he could find about the Fenton parents, he started looking through medical records, school records, articles… Suddenly, Damian’s heart slammed against his ribs. There, on the cover of a two year old magazine, was the face that had haunted him all week. With trembling fingers, he zoomed in on the image. It only took a few minutes to alter the hair and eye colour. It was unmistakably him. The boy who bore an uncanny resemblance to Damian himself, if slightly older and paler.

Swallowing hard, Damian scrolled through the magazine’s online archive to find the article mentioned on the title page. An almost extinct gorilla species. A chance discovery by then fourteen year old Daniel Fenton.

“Daniel,” Damian rolled the name around his mouth. A fairly common Western name. “Daniel. Danyal?” If he was Talia’s son, surely she would have used the Arabic version… no! He was jumping to conclusions!

Now having a name to go on, Damian dug deeper than Drake had bothered to. The birth certificate named a small town in Utah, but there were no records of a hospital admission. A home birth? There were no records of the Fentons having a residence in that state. No medical records of prenatal care either, though there were for the birth of the older sibling. Had the pregnancy gone unnoticed? Possible, if unlikely. There had been a vehicle registration for a motorhome during that time period though. Had the Fentons been living on the road when their son was born? Or had they acquired the child some other way? If he was an Al Ghul who would have spirited him away to the USA?

The Fentons had settled down in Amity Park about six months after Daniel’s birth, purchasing the residence they apparently used to this day. From there, his records were fairly standard and unremarkable, though there were a higher than average number of doctor’s visits for minor household accidents. Not enough to get flagged by CPS, but certainly worrying if potential mad science was involved. Daniel’s school records showed average grades, with higher scores in Maths and Science. At age fourteen however, his academic performance took a sharp dip, with an uneven performance on tests and numerous unexcused absences. His teachers noted frequent inattentiveness in class or Daniel outright falling asleep. Someone had submitted reports of bullying and suspicious bruises, but the case was dropped and never followed up on. His grades had evened out since then, but the unexcused absences persisted.

Damian knew enough about the trials and tribulations of teenage superheroics to recognize a pattern. And it certainly looked like Daniel fit the bill. If he had acquired meta abilities two years ago it probably took some time to get a handle on them and find a balance between his legal and illegal activities.

Damian steepled his fingers together. There was only so much his digital investigation could reveal. It was time for some fieldwork.

Part 7

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom #batman #batfamily #damian wayne #robin #prophecy universe #the one where clockwork uses prophecies to mess things up (and set things right)#no beta we die like danny #damian snoops on tim's browser history #and gets more than he bargained for #damian thinks he would have made a good brother #and having a brother would have made his childhood less miserable

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evieelyzabethh · 10 months

Text

Sugar and Spike

pairing(s): Spike x fem!reader

summary: after a night of patrol goes wrong, Spike starts noticing some changes in himself, mainly that Buffy's sweetest friend won't leave his mind and that she would never look at him the same if she knew what he wanted to do to her.

warnings: smut!!! a smidge of yandereness, kinda a sex or die fic, possessive spike, handjob, unprotected piv sex (wrap it before you tap it), oral (fem receiving), praise kink, biting/marking (mentions of blood), a little bit of spanking, overstimulation, riding, fingering, veryyy little plot, and I think thats about it.

In hindsight, they should've kept a better eye on him. It was an odd night of patrolling, the usual gaggle of vampires being a demon or two this time around. Big tall thing that appeared out of nowhere and left as soon as it came. Spike, always with little regard for the consequences of his actions, ran right in. Ran so hard he went right through the demon as it went into smoke. He breathed it in before going into a coughing fit, as if he could feel it in his nose and lungs, spreading in his chest like a vine that pulled everything impossible tight before releasing him like he was never in its grasp . Red flag one.

It fell on him like rain, some clumping into what looked like pink sparkles in his hair, on his jacket, his worn boots. He shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair, pulling away expecting to see it gunked together, but there was nothing there. It felt like his hair had been hit by my mist, slightly damp and cool. It seeped into his exposed skin, adhering itself into a pink sheen which also disappeared after only a few minutes. He remembered trying to brush it off, expecting it to feel wet but it was just slick. It was admittedly infuriating, especially since the feeling wouldn't go away. Red flag two.

“Buffy!” He shouted, rubbing his hands on his jeans as if it was going to wipe away the phantom feeling, but his complaints were met with apathy.

“There’s nothing there, Spike.” A groan bubbled in his chest.

“Astute observation, Slayer, but it feels like something’s there.” You were there beside him, something that would’ve gone unnoticed had he not been hit with your scent as your fingers brushed against his hand. He pulled away quickly out of instinct, not as subtle as he would’ve liked to because you noticed and scampered off in between Buffy and Giles. The distance between you and him got larger and the two of you talked about a mall trip you had planned and Willow was the only one to stick with him. She humored him, allowing him to shower at her place and taking a sample of skin only to find nothing. No residue, nothing abnormal, nothing had changed at all. Red flag three.

But he was sure it was fine. Nothing had really changed. You had been a bit cautious though.

You were prone to worrying, and he couldn't blame you. There was a lot to worry about when your best friends hunted demons and one of them was a literal creature of the night. You worried about Buffy so much he genuinely feared you would collapse from all the stress you put yourself under. Pursuing a nursing degree so they could avoid hospital visits unless absolutely necessary because none of you had the money. Having him train you in basic self-defense because you hated feeling like dead weight. You took up Latin and all of the other dead languages in those old dusty books just so you could be useful. You tied yourself in knots just to be sweet. God, you were so sweet. Even to your own detriment, like pure sugar that was going to rot his teeth eventually.

The more time you spent together, the more the rot seemed to take his brain than his teeth. His mouth never got anywhere near you; Buffy made sure of that. He wished he could say it was because she was babying you too much, that you were also tired of Buffy making Spike seem like the biggest mistake you could ever make. To be fair, he hardly knew you. He knew of you; he knew of the pink wardrobe and the fluffy socks and the pretty shoes. He knew of you as Buffy's cute neighbor who stopped by so often that you might as well live with them. You weren't being a baby, you were being cautious, even more now. He almost wished you didn't believe him as much as you did, maybe you'd keep visiting him. He hadn't seen you in days and it was really starting to take a toll on him. His leg bounced and he got in the bad habit of biting his nails, which was starting to get annoying with how often he had to repaint them.

If you were here, you would repaint them. You would sit your pretty self on his busted couch, and you'd have a little bag with you with all your pins and charms that jingled like the earrings that dangle from your ears. In your bag would be at least three shades of pink, a range of blacks and greys, and a wild card or two, maybe a blue or a green. You'd let him pick his color, despite knowing he always went for black. You asked anyway, just in case he decided to go with pink just to humor you. Had you walked through right now, he would've obliged. He would've done anything you asked him too. It wasn't even that he was lonely, but it was getting to suffocate in here. It was getting hot, like a fire was spreading. Each breath felt smoke filled, his skin was on fire, his skin was getting damp, like the dust had fallen again. His hand was shaky as he put a cigarette between his lips and lit it, surely the smell would break him out of what had to be a daze.

If you were here, you'd make a joke about him needing to air the place out. He'd probably open the door and call that enough air, but he liked his privacy, and he didn't like the idea of anyone just being able to waltz right in. You would want to make a joke about no one wanting to visit him, but you’d bite your tongue at the fear of being too harsh. You always got that look in your eye when you thought something that could be misconstrued as mean. You took your lip into your teeth and your pretty eyelashes flitted and you looked away. He thought about what it would be like to bite your lips, wanting to see what they looked like, all red and even prettier than they were before. Just a taste, that's all he wanted, a taste.

He got up to open up the door only for that phantom feeling to return. All over his body, it felt like he had stepped out into the sun, like every molecule that made up his body was vibrating and mere seconds from combusting. His breathing got ragged, his chest rising and falling rapidly and his brain going into overdrive. He squeezed his eyes shut as if it would make it go away, but even from behind his eyelids, you were there. The idea of you, your smile, your laughter, fuck the very way you said his name. It sounded so nice coming from you.

The way you said it when he got injured in a fight when you would patch up his wounds and have a bag of blood for him to replace what he lost. “Spike.” you would say. Like he should’ve known better than to just throw himself into danger. Not even bothering to consider the possibility that he did it to look heroic, or maybe in your care with your hands over his chest. There’s no reason for him to be this beaten and bruised from some baby vamp; William the Bloody. Spike? He had pride, but not as much as Angelus. It was easily quenched by the fact that he was in no way losing with your delicate hands tracing over faded scars on his chest and feeding him blood while they were just dust.

“Spike.” Buffy would say, her tone laced with less concern and more disapproval. She knew something was up. After all they had gone through together, vampires should’ve been nothing for him. He had to space out his “fuck ups” just to get her off his back, just to get her voice out of his head. She didn’t say his name like you did.

There wasn’t much better than how you said his name when it was just the two of you. Being together in his crypt, sometimes in your own bedroom which you had invited him into much to Buffy’s chagrin. “It’s Spike,” you had said, “how many times have we saved the world with him? I think he’s earned it.” It sent shivers down his spine. He would’ve saved the world so much sooner if it meant being able to be in your space. If it meant getting to hear you say his name through fits of laughter, trying to regain your breath while still finding enough to utter his name. “Spike.” you said, your hand over his while you giggled. He felt that heat now, felt the heat of all your touches culminating right now. All over his skin, tensing his muscles, holding his chest as he fought for breath himself.

While he had the chance, he should’ve raided your underwear drawer. Now he was left to fist his dick with just the memory of you. You wouldn’t notice a pair or two gone, surely you wouldn’t. It was the type of small thing you would overlook because really what is a pair or two. You wouldn’t want him to be in pain, hearing his situation now, you’d feel like it was all your fault. The least you could spare was a pair of your prettiest panties for him to wrap around his cock while he fisted himself to the thought of you and how you would say his name now.

The closest he’d gotten would be after a big battle. You had taken a beating, by the time you had gotten to a safe space you had lost a dangerous amount of blood, but the sounds that came out of your mouth were so delicious. And you trusted him to carry you to safety, your bloody hand wrapping itself around his bicep to maintain some tether to consciousness. “Spike.” your voice dripping with pain, but even that wasn’t enough to mask how pretty you sounded. He felt bad then for how hard it got him, but there is such a thin line between pain and pleasure. The only difference now would be circumstance, and he would never hurt you. This would be good for you, the both of you, you just had to let him. You just had to say his name.

“Spike?” In that moment, he knew there had to be some high power looking out for him when he heard your voice. Dream-like, and soft, like the wind could have blown it out and away from your lips. “Spike?!” you said again. He couldn’t tell if it was his shred of restraint or his body’s unwillingness to listen to his brain that kept him glued to his couch.

“Now really isn’t a good time, love.” He tried to keep his voice level, he really did, but it was too much. And you weren’t stupid, he heard the heels of your shoes against the hard floor and smelt you before he even saw you. And fuck you smelt heavenly.

“Are you okay? What happened-” You looked like you had a halo above your head, or maybe he was much further gone than he had thought. You cut yourself off in shock. When you had walked in, you hadn’t expected to catch Spike with his hands down his pants.

“You know what, I’m just gonna go a-and come back later.” You tried to smile in an attempt to make the situation less awkward than it needed to be, but he grabbed you by your wrist.

“Wait-I just need-fuck. I just need you to stay for a bit. I don’t feel good.” Your eyes met and you saw the sheen of what you assumed to be sweat covering his chest and face. His pupils blown out, his hair out of place, his labored breathing, like he couldn’t catch his breath. Oddly enough, the sheen had a pink tinge, and despite the fact that his fangs were protruding, his vampire face hadn’t appeared. You reached out to touch his forehead to surprisingly find a temperature. He groaned at the contact, both wanting to melt into your skin and like it physically pained him.

“What happened?” He declined the answer, instead pushing his head more into the palm of your hand, tipping his head to sniff the inside of your wrist. “What are you doing?” You tried to pull away and put some distance in between the two of you, but he pulled you back, even closer than before.

“You smell so good.” He nosed his way past your wrist and up your arm till he made it to your collarbone, trying to find where he could hear your blood pump the loudest. “Stop it!” you pushed against him as soon as you felt the tip of his fangs attempting to break skin. To both of your surprise, he let you. It looked like it pained him to do so, his eyes screwed shut and his hand gripping the arm of his couch until the wood snapped.

“If this is about the demon thing, I’m gonna go get Willow, okay? You just need to stay right here.” The authority you had laced in your voice was cute.

“Just stay here with me, yeah? There’s no need to get Willow. We don’t need Willow.” His voice had dropped an octave, his pupils blown and his brain damn near empty. Anything went in one ear then out the other as he held your hands in his, staring through you as if daring you to defy him.

“Spike, you aren’t well.” You had tried to reason, but all he heard was that you weren’t saying no because you didn’t want this. You were concerned for his well being, even when he had you pinned down and his teeth at your neck, each breath moving you closer to him drawing blood, you were saying no because you were concerned he didn’t want this. You somehow thought he didn’t want you.

“I’ve never felt better, baby.”, he said-practically fucking growled. Hell if he wanted you, he needed you. He pressed himself into you, his hands grabbing at anything he could to ground himself, his left at the base of your scalp and his right bunching the fabric of your skirt in his hands. He breathed into your neck, nipping and nicking at bare skin then soothing it with his tongue and kisses. He worked himself up over you, taking and taking until he was drunk, his tongue lolled out as he put his head on your chest.“Can I fuck you.”

You had been caught in a daze yourself, his words had barely registered. You had more sense than he did at this point, finding enough resolve to shake your head. “Please.” he begged, groaning it out through clenched teeth. “I need you to make it feel better, please God just make it feel better.” He had pushed his hips into your hand, his weeping cock leaking onto you, pleading with you to touch it. “I’ll make it good for you, I swear, just be my sweet girl, yeah? Just make it better.”

You experimentally rubbed the tip, and he whimpered. His hand grabbing your wrist so fast a look of shock flashed across his face. You took that as a sign to pull away but he put your hand back around him, pushing your hand up and down his base. “Too much too quick, love.”

Any hesitancy you had was swallowed as he smashed his lips into yours. It was urgent and quick, almost bruising how hard he kissed and held you as if you were going to disappear at any point. He tugged at a handful of hair, catching you in a moan that he used to force tongue into your mouth, sucking it as you pumped his dick at a painfully slow pace.

His kisses made you breathless, and it was then you realized that he likely forgot in his haze that you actually needed air. He moaned into your lips, the sound spreading throughout your body and shaking you to your core. It wasn’t lost on him how damp your underwear had gotten, had he had the strength to pull away to touch you he would, but the mere seconds his skin would be off yours was enough of a deterrent to keep him in place.

You tried to move away, but his hand kept you in place. “Don’t move.”, he rushed it out, a tone that otherwise would’ve been more commanding had he not been weak himself. “Keep going.” His hips bucked and stuttered, his movements becoming erratic the more faint your touches became. Like it was a warning; let me up for air and I’ll keep touching you. He whined at the thought of you pulling away. That wasn’t fair.

His lips parted from yours, settling for the corner of your mouth before moving to your jawline to your neck, then just under your ear. You gasped for breath, you numb with the ecstasy of air and the feeling of his rushed kisses. He was getting close. Your hand was covered in his sticky pre-cum, his cock even more so as your hand moved alone over him, his own hand now grabbing at your shirt at the feeling. You squeezed at the bass, a motion he clearly enjoyed with how his body tensed up. A series of obscenities flowed from his pretty lips as he came, spurts of his cum getting over your pretty pink skirt, an image Spike would get himself off to later.

You didn’t get long to sit in what just happened when he was on you again, laying you on your back and ripping your skirt clean off. You moaned something that sounded like “My skirt!”, but neither one of you were really worried about it.

His lithe fingers were quick, rubbing you through the fabric of your panties, while he kissed up to where you wanted him excruciatingly slow. His hands rubbed and teased at the soft skin of your thighs, marking bruises everywhere he went.

He moaned into you, sniffing you once again, before finding a place he wanted to dig his fangs into. Maybe it was how delicately he stuck in his teeth, maybe it was the lust blown fervor, but it didn’t hurt as much as you anticipated. In fact, you moaned at the intrusion, unable to know what to do with yourself as he sucked and lapped up the blood he had drawn. Your fingers wove into his hair, as if he could be pulled any closer to you than he already was. “You taste so good. So good.” And he let you know as such. The obscene noises that flew from the both of you, the slurping and whines, the pop of his lips as he traveled from one spot to another. But that’s not how he intended to eat you whole.

You were unbelievably wet, soaking through your panties and even Spikes fingers before he took pity on you and decided to pull them aside and plant his fingers into you. Now, you weren’t a virgin, but you had never had sex that felt as good as this. Never had someone in you that had hundreds of years of practice beforehand.

“You’re doing so good, Sweet Girl. So good, can’t get enough of you.” What was an attempt to calm your nerves, had you keening and over the moon, the praise bringing tears to your eyes as you ground yourself in his hand. That didn’t move him along any quicker, his tongue still collecting anything you would give him like he hadn’t been fed in years.

“Spike!” You called out, which finally seemed to get his attention. He saw the glass-like look your eyes had taken and the pout on your face. You looked like you were about to cry. Poor thing, so desperate. He said he’d take care of you, make you feel good. No point in denying the inevitable.

You whined when he pulled out of you just to choke when he began to devour you. His nose at your clit and his tongue plunging into. “Thank you.” he muttered into you, like this was some divine gift to him. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” The combination of his praise and how good he was giving it to you made that coil in your belly tighten and tighten until it threatened to snap. And he just kept going. Completely in his own world, the only thoughts in his mind being about you, how you smelled, how you tasted, god you were so good to him. Letting him eat you out like this, helping him like this. He shouldn’t have expected any less from his girl. His sweet girl. No one else's, you couldn’t be anyone else's after this. His grip tightened around your thighs at the very thought. “Mine.” he said, the vibrations hitting your core deliciously. “Mine.”

“Yours Spike, all yours.” He hummed in approval, inserting two fingers back into you while he kept up his electric pace. He held your hand as it began to be too much, your back arching off the couch and your thighs closing around his head as he just kept going. You called his name as you came, high and higher until it became too heavy on your mouth and you couldn’t say anything at all. The grip you had on his hand had loosened, but he hadn’t let up. He still rambled into you, “Again. Again. Again. Please.”

You didn’t know if your hips were bucking into him or try to wiggle away from him. Either way, both attempts were unsuccessful. With how hard he pulled on your panties they had snapped and had been thrown to the side for the simple crime of being in his way. His forearm lay on your hip keeping you in place. Your hand still laid in his, him squeezing it as if it was any comfort from the inescapable feeling of his tongue licking your thoroughly soaked pussy.

Your toes curled in your frilly socks as you came again on his tongue, and you foolishly expected that to be enough. You would’ve asked him to stop if you could pant out anything more than whines. You would’ve pushed him away if you could manage anything more than weak taps on his forearm. “No more.” you whispered out. “Can’t.” His fingers rubbed your hand as some form of encouragement.

“Yes you can, love.” You shook your head weakly, scooting your hips back only for him to swiftly smack your pussy. You preened on the contact, and he drank in the arousal that gushed out just from that. “My sweet girl isn’t gonna disappoint me, is she? She’s gonna make me all better, isn’t that right?” Your brain was so fogged out you couldn’t even produce a response. You just groaned and squirmed, unable to brace for impact when he smacked you again.

“Spike!” You cried out, but he didn’t care. Heknew you were feeling good from how much you gushed while he tongue fucked your cunt. It was just a bit too much for you right now. You would feel better, you just needed to let go some more. He tried to relax you, tried rubbing mindless shapes on your skin to calm you down as he worked you through your third orgasm, but you just heaved. Your tits bounced with how heavily you breathed, and yet after all of that, he still didn’t feel better. Why didn’t he feel better?

Despite the relief that came from him pausing his abuse, you still whined as he sat up from behind your legs. With your taste still on his tongue, he kissed you. You sighed into him, the feeling of his large hands moving from your hip to under your shirt to touch your tummy and rip your bra in half. You didn’t even notice him moving you into his lap and setting your thighs on either side of him so you straddled him. He thumbed your nipples, pinching and rubbing over them while he relished in the feeling of you cunt so close to his dick.

You didn’t seem to catch on either as he slid in between your folds, too lost of him finally kissing you again. You moaned into this kiss as his fingers dipped to toy with your clit before he whispered in your ear. “Just one more.”

In one fluid motion, he slipped his dick into his cunt, catching you as your limbs went weak. He was so big you felt your eyes water with the pressure of him being in you. You could tell he was struggling to stay still, but the haze had worn off enough for him to regain some sense. He still waited eagerly for you to adjust, brushing the fallen tears from your eyes and kissing your checks to make it all better.

“Too big. It’s too big.” You stuttered. It was all you could manage to mutter out. He cooed at you, his dick growing harder than he thought possible at the feeling of it all and the praise.

“I was made for you, Pretty Girl, you can take it.” You yelped as he jerked his hips into yours, but he just couldn’t help it. You were so pretty like this, all fucked out and dumb. Not a thought behind those eyes of yours and the only thoughts he was capable of was you. How warm you were, how wet you were, how tight you were. You were squeezing him and milking him dry and as much as he tried he just couldn’t stop him self from fucking into you.

“I’m sorry.” and he meant it. You weren’t ready and he couldn’t even tell if he was ready, his body had a mind of his own and he felt himself just slipping into the feeling of being enveloped by you. “Just too good. You’re too good. My good girl. You’re gonna take all I give you, aren’t you, love? You gonna be my sweet girl and take it?” His voice was breathy and low and impossibly hot.

All you could manage was a soft ‘mhm’ as you took him in. It wasn’t like you had any other choice as you bounced on his cock, gripping at his chest and taking in each moan you earned as you drew blood from your scratches.

You felt every inch of him, felt the tip of his dick hit your cervix and kept pounding at it like it was his job; like he would die if he didn’t. You can’t do anything but take it as you screw your eyes shut and just try to breathe as everything in your body fights to hold on to some feeling. It was impossible to think, not when Spike’s hands were all over you and his touch was so incredibly hot. Even stranger, a pink glow began to emanate from him, that or you were closer to passing out than you originally thought. .

He kept you close to his chest as you both chased your impending highs together, your lips meeting in the middle as you moaned and sighed into each other's mouths and he was a goner, rambling like a mad man in your ear, thanking you endlessly for something he couldn’t put his hands on. Maybe it was your release, that you felt coming like a truck. He squeezed at the fat of your hips, pulling you even closer until neither one of you could tell where the other started and ended and you came like that, so close that you were almost suffocating, but a different kind from before.

He came not long after you, his dick still inside spurting his cum inside you and keeping it in there with little intention of coming out any time soon. That pink glow had faded from before, fading away until there was nothing there and the slight pink tinge from before was gone too. His eyes drooped a bit, his blue irises that you hadn’t realized you had missed finally reappeared, his pupils returning to normal and his fangs retracting.

He hung his head in your neck and you felt his temperature drop a bit, no longer boiling hot. He refused to move his head from his spot though. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was ashamed of what just happened.

After the both of you had a moment to catch your breaths, he removed himself from inside you, stalking off to find something to wear now that your outfit was completely ruined. He even had the decency to turn around while you changed, granted he had a hard time looking at you anyway.

“You’re gonna wanna deep clean that couch.” You said to break the silence. You were surprised you got a chuckle out of him.

“Yeah. I don’t normally do this sort of thing on there.” Another moment of silence passed between the two of you.

“You know, we can go back to my place and I can fix your nails. I can tell you’ve been biting at them.” He didn’t need to be told twice either. The place still stunk of sex and his head was feeling clearer than it had in days, he couldn’t stand to be there right now.

“About all of this…you won’t tell Buffy, right?” You giggled.

“Not if you don’t.” And that was more than enough for him.

#btvs #btvs imagine #btvs x reader #buffy the vampire slayer #buffy the vampire slayer fanfiction #buffy the vampire slayer imagine #buffy the vampire slayer x reader #spike btvs x reader #spike btvs imagine #spike btvs fanfiction #spike x reader #spike btvs #spike smut #spike btvs smut #btvs smut #buffy the vampire slayer smut

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abbystanaccount · 1 month

Note

hii! i recently stumbled upon your owen scar analysis where we see most of his scars, and wondered if it was possible for you to the same with abby? :)

Ohhh good idea. The only reason I hadn't yet is Abby only has a couple scars we don't know the origin of, but I can go over every scar she gets!

Abby's Scars Analysis

First, I'll start with Abby's oldest scars, she has a small scar on her forehead and it's the only visible scar on her younger self. Fun fact, Jocelyn actually has this scar and she's mentioned it's from being hit in the head as a kid with a golf club (lol).

Her older model has a similar looking scar on her right cheekbone. I assume she got these either from being hit with a blunt object or a fall, something like that. Her forehead scar interestingly becomes more noticeable as she ages, it even raises a bit in her Pillars model.

Her chin injury from the car crash does not visibly scar in Santa Barbara.

Next is the other visible scar Abby has when we see her in Seattle. Abby is for the most part not scarred much at the start of the game, she gets a hurt shoulder from Jackson and has some blemishes but these are the only scars we can see. (Her bare torso model is completely unmarked.)

There's two small marks on her arms, one more noticeable than the other. To me, the one on her forearm looks semi recent and looks scabbed. They'd come back from Jackson a few weeks prior, so it's possible Abby was hurt on that trip. But I headcanon it more that she was distracted on patrol when she returned and it was a small stab wound, possibly environmental.

One thing that annoys me about these scars though is that in never heals, it looks about the same from Seattle to Santa Barbara.

Now Abby gets some scars after the theater fight. The wounds Ellie gives her is the bite (which heals) and a stab to Abby's left thigh (which she masterfully shakes off lol.) We don't get to see Abby's bare thigh but it's likely that wound scarred.

The rest of the slashes, which seem to be 4 slashes on her arms and one across her left cheek come from Dina. It also seems as though the arm scars are mostly raised and noticeable, while her cheek scar is more subtle and indented like she tried to stitch it and take care of it more afterwards.

Abby’s next batch of scars are from Ellie on the beach… as if she didn’t suffer enough 😒 She gets a slash on her cheek, a slash on the front and side of her torso, multiple slashes on her arms, especially her left arm which she used to block, a deep stab wound in her left shoulder and a stab wound through her chest.

Here I’m showing her post beach fight textures on her Seattle body (the full Pillars body isn’t complete). You can see how deep the wounds are 🙁

I’m thinking she must have rode the boat a bit down the coast and then looked for supplies to help her and Lev before going all the way to Catalina, so she wouldn’t bleed out…

These are my interpretations of how the beach fight scars might heal. You can see some more of that with my various fan arts of TLOU 3 Abby. I drew over the slash placements, and added in the thigh stab and chest stab scar and some other various scratches she might have gotten. I tried to have them look similar to her scars in early Santa Barbara, raised and a bit pink.

Hopefully the Firefly doctors will help her out a lot with the healing of the cuts and the sunburn and she can just chill for a bit 😢

Bonus skins

This new skin isn't canon or anything and neither is the Eighties skin. In that skin you can see Abby's cheek scar under her makeup, which I thought was cool. But the Badlands skin has a brand new scar that goes all across Abby's cheek to her lips. I think this must be a scrape from some sort of weapon that scratched her. The redness on the cheek makes it seem fairly new

#abby #tlou 2 #tlou abby #abby anderson #my screenshots #the last of us part 2 #analysis #tlou 2 abby #the last of us

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bonefall · 5 months

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Favorite rewritten scene from TPB? Any scenes you think would fuck if they were animated? Dont worry why im asking its not important <3

Hmmmm....

Well, BB!TPB is probably the least changed arc to begin with! Better Bones is a project that is basically trying to deliver on the themes I liked in the first 5 books; a flawed society is on the verge of birthing a great monster, a reckoning generations in the making, which can only be saved by the very outcasts their culture seeks to destroy.

So I'm not adding too much to it which isn't just building up the culture some more, adding personality to some background characters (especially mollies), or shoring up cats in ShadowClan.

I've got an old post floating around somewhere about my goals and a basic summary for each book, but here's a MASSIVE ramble about things I plan to add

The three MAJOR cool scenes in here though?

Rusty's Collar

Deerfoot's Sabotauge

Scourge's Collar

Into the Wild: Opening stuff, ThunderClan expansions, Rusty's Collar

For one, DAPPLETAIL has a much bigger role as Firepaw's first teacher. Rusty speaks Townmew; he needs to learn Clanmew.

So I might make the meeting with Graypaw earlier, or just have a bit more of a transitional period where he's "living with a paw in both worlds" before he gets named Firepaw

He also is able to see and take part in some of the Expanded Roles, while still learning Clanmew.

Frostfur is Head of Kitchen Patrol, pregnant, and overworked. Rusty likes her though, he can't always tell what she's saying but he learns she calls him the "Intense Gingerthing (affectionate)" and she's got cool scars

Tigerclaw might be Head of Hunting, or his cousin Willowpelt. Undecided yet; Willowpelt will be taking over after he becomes deputy though.

I forgor who is Construction Head at the moment, probably Mousefur. In any case it's a molly, One-eye has been retired for a long while.

Dappletail is the Educator, naturally, and she hangs out with Ravenpaw and her son Graypaw. Ravenpaw has a habit of telling tall tales.

The adult he's closest to though? Spottedleaf, the Cleric, like a big sister.

IMPORTANT: Rusty's time as a not-apprentice comes to a hard end with his battle against Longtail. Probably because he now understands enough Clanmew to know he's talking shit.

This time though, we're setting up some foreshadowing lads

Unlike other depictions of the collar removal where it's framed like the triumphant moment he enters the Clans, with a beam of sunlight revealing to Bluestar that he is the cat of great prophecy, his collar being snapped off comes with trembling fury and anxiety

He was terrified and angry in that moment! He's been bullied by Longtail, it just came to physical blows, and he was being choked by his collar digging into his throat so he couldn't breathe. When it suddenly SNAPS, he's hacking and coughing, but the whole Clan is cheering at the spectacle, it's like...

He's being told he's just proved himself. The joy of finally getting what he's really wanted, of landing a mark on his bully and being CELEBRATED for it, it starts to wash away the fear and fury.

It's sudden, like whiplash. He's trembling, he's growling, he's smiling. His stomach is rolling and he doesn't know which emotion is turning it.

Then, his collar is buried. He only sees it out of the corner of his eye, Dappletail (someone he likes) digging a little hole and dropping it in. Like getting rid of something dirty. He can't identify the emotion that prickles his heart in that moment, and to his dying day he never learns the word for it.

But it's going to be the same thing he feels, much much later, after the roar of the BloodClan battle has gone quiet and he's staring at the collar he ripped off Scourge. He spared the leader's life and caused the group to retreat... but, looking at that collar, so lovingly studded with trophies not unlike the ivory Clan cats take from boar hunts...

He realizes that it's meaningful. To Scourge. He can't go far enough to admit that his own collar meant something to him... but...

it would be wrong to just discard this. This emotion drives him to eventually approach Scourge and BloodClan again, in the Epilogue, returning the collar as a gift of goodwill and re-opening discussion about Tigerstar's Impossible Deal. These talks open up a new era of peace and trading between Chelford and the White Hart, until TNP brings it to a tragic end.

But anyway!

Ally Expansions + Deerfoot's Sabotage

In an effort to establish that the Clans have unique subcultures, and that the cats within them are unique individuals, BB!TPB needs more positive supporting cast in more than just WindClan.

GATHERINGS NOW HAVE AFTERGATHERINGS. This is like a discreet afterparty, which adult warriors can choose to attend by simply staying behind when their leadership returns home.

Fireheart regularly attends them until the moment he becomes leader.

A few of his friends in other Clans are Aftergathering regulars. Onewhisker, Mosspelt, Wetfoot.

Some others are just occasional visitors. Mistyfoot is brought along by her sis-in-law, Mosspelt, once or twice. Morningflower comes to do some trades.

(at his FIRST aftergathering he gets to meet Carpwhisker and Cinderfur. These two are noted to stop coming when the political tides harden.)

Because this is the Thistle Era, the Aftergathering is much smaller than it will be in a few generations.

They're also still careful to not leak too much information outside of their own Clans, and the ShadowClan cats are even particularly excited at Fireheart's first Aftergathering because it was difficult to regularly attend these while Brokenstar was leader.

DEERFOOT is a MUCH expanded character. Son of Lizardstripe, brother of Runningnose and Tangleburr, Deerfoot is involved in opposing both Brokenstar, and later NIGHTSTAR when he feels he's going against what Deerfoot fought so hard for.

And, most famously and most fatally, he's the head of the TigerClan Rebels.

Much as I like Ravenpaw... he's not getting his cameo at Stonefur's execution. No, I'm not going to be having the HalfClan cats rescued by Graystripe's bad feeling and also Ravenpaw is there. Freeing the prisoners was an action that came from WITHIN TigerClan.

Deerfoot is going to be beseeching Firestar for it. I haven't figured out EXACTLY how yet, but I'm thinking that it's after Darkstripe was exiled (suddenly, Tigerstar no longer has a mole in ThunderClan) and he's able to ask for Firestar's help openly and honestly, and tell him how many cats will need refuge if the plan is successful.

Being leader now, and not JUST a deputy, Firestar has to consider the way it might drag his Clan into conflict with a huge opponent... which Deerfoot assures won't happen, because his forces have a process. Using ochre and onion, they obscure themselves completely. Not a single one's been caught-- besides the ones who were picked up for the "crime" of being HalfClan.

Deerfoot is going to be killed for what he does here, saving so many lives. So he won't pay for the little trick he's going to pull.

While applying Firestar's ochre and onion, just before entering the camp to rescue the HalfClan cats (and finding they've started an execution early-- with Stonefur), Deerfoot draws back to look at his handiwork. Not a single fleck of his bright, unmistakable orange fur is peaking through his disguise.

So he clicks his tongue, "I've missed a spot." With a rub of his paw, the ochre around the ThunderClan leader's eyes is smudged. Just enough that anyone locking with those green eyes would see the fire poking out from beneath.

Later, when Firestar learns of this after Deerfoot's death... he chuckles with equal parts bitterness and admiration. Most of Deerfoot's Rebels had to go right back to living in TigerClan, and knowing Firestar was leading the battle patrol would take suspicion off them... but, knowing his old, lost ally... a bigger part of it was that Deerfoot was hoping that information would reach Tigerstar and BURN into him.

Compassionate and spiteful to the last, that Deerfoot.

Darkest Hour: BloodClan and Scourge's Collar

I think if I was going to rename the individual books, I'd call the last book of BB!TPB "The Moment of Truth."

BloodClan is keeping the way that it's not important until the last book. Aside from an offhanded mention here and there and a run-in with some peons that replace the rats that attack Bluestar, they're not relevant until the moment they're introduced.

I do want to keep how SURPRISING it was to see them suddenly roll up, keep that feeling that they're brutal, unsettling, foreign. When Tigerstar loses his shit on Scourge for not following his order and attempts to kill him, I want to keep how cold, sudden, and BRUTAL that ending was.

But... when Scourge FIRST appears on screen, he looks much different from the Iceheart he will eventually become. He begins to look less "monstrous" and more like a PERSON as Firestar realizes that they're not so different.

Scourge has no pupils at first. His eyes are solid, icy blue.

He also has no mouth when he isn't about to bite, no lip synch when he talks. Like he's just existing ominously onscreen, wind ruffling his spiky, ungroomed fur.

Before the killing of Tigerstar, it's noted that Scourge's speech is odd, and hard to understand. But, you can sort of make out his intent if you listen carefully.

Firestar recognizes that he is speaking Townmew, his own first language.

Tigerstar doesn't really respect him enough to listen, until he barks an order and Scourge tells him, "...My cats move when I command them, and not before."

Like canon, Firestar steps forward to speak with Scourge. Unlike canon, he very intentionally begins speaking Townmew.

ALSO like canon, when Firestar explains Tigerstar's crimes, that he will never honor any bargains he has made, and thus that they can't be trusted, he rolls that Nat20 and Scourge tells him that there will be no battle today as he thinks about this new information.

And, of course, Tigerstar lost his marbles about this. And also his organs

And Scourge is SEETHING. That's his LAST straw. He made a deal and he is NOT being given what he is owed, he tried to gracefully walk away only for Tigerstar to disrespect him for the last time, and he's SICK. AND. TIRED. Of backstabbing, DISHONORABLE CLAN CATS.

And YET. He remains cool. And he tells Firestar directly, "In light of this, I have changed my mind. We will be taking what we are owed. You have three days to leave, or it will come to combat."

Another big change from canon is that no Clan needs to be convinced to fight. It's a battle culture. They were ALWAYS going to win, or die in glorious combat. Running away is not an option in this era-- they believe their eternal reward is up in StarClan.

But Firestar CAN unite them, bring them together to discuss battle plans. And in this first day...

TigerClan is dismantled. Though Leopardstar tries to cling to her newfound leadership of TigerClan; both Shadow and River are clearly tense and demoralized. Anxious and snappish warriors are mulling about the camp.

and STILL, Firestar is dealing with a bunch of cats who are openly disrespecting him.

Even when he reminds them, "YOU brought him to the Forest! Tigerstar's deal was HALF our land and I could pull LionClan out at any time! I'm trying to HELP YOU"

Darkstripe in particular is still here with his little xenophobic jabs. And he is Xenophobic Jabbering.

In spite of the guilt Leopardstar feels, and the resentment that Blackfoot is starting to feel for Tigerstar and the position he's being thrust into, they're still DIFFICULT, not giving Firestar clear answers about if they're going to come talk battle strategies or not.

Firestar can't believe this.

They're really gonna do this. Say that TigerClan can take care of its own problems.

They're just gonna try and hold onto their scraps of pride and charge into battle, NO plan, because they think they're above him.

After ALL OF THIS, EVERYTHING thats happened, the times they've fought and he's won, becoming deputy, even earning the authority of a leader...

They're STILL not taking him seriously.

This prompts Firestar to end up losing it, the "I saw what you did to Stonefur" speech to Blackstar is moved here, addressed to BOTH of them.

But this time, there's even MORE victims. He lists ALL of them, plus the refugees still in his camp.

And they're gonna kill even MORE cats? What? To be the smuggest corpses in the GROUND?

OR MAYBE THE HAPPIEST LITTLE SKULLS ON THEIR STUPID HILL.

It SHUTS them up.

Leopardstar, in particular, clearly haunted by this... her own father, Mudfur, is one of those refugees. And she is staring intently at some of the bones on the hill.

Unfortunately, her remorse will not stick. Distance will make Blackstar more ashamed, but Leopardstar begins to look back with nostalgia.

But FOR NOW? It MATTERS.

Darkstripe comes in with another little comment, and she snaps at him.

Then she turns back on the Bonehill, and says the, "This belongs to a darker time" line.

Firestar also ends up visiting with Barley Sr, Jr, and Ravenpaw. Chatting about reasons why Ravenpaw still doesn't want to come back, even though Tigerstar is gone.

And about BloodClan, as Barley Senior comes from there. Bone is his mother (though due to some timeline things I'm considering her being his sister; and then Hoot and Jumper are littermates OR cousins of Junior.)

Ends up explaining a bit about the history, how it was formed because of Oakstar, the context of the descendant of Oakstar turning on Scourge like that

Plus why Barley Sr left. His time as a solver, the death of Violet Sr, the way BloodClan demands tribute to keep its cats fed.

And while BloodClan has issues... Firestar is realizing... so do the Clans.

Violence, blood feuds, war... xenophobia. He's still seething over that exchange from earlier.

Firestar's anxious over the big fight, and the people he knows he will lose. GOOD people. The battle won't discern the crackerjacks from the jackasses; people he loves will die. He HAS to win. And yet, his feelings towards Scourge feel frustratingly conflicted.

On the second day...

Finally he's getting somewhere with the other four Clans. Everyone's preparing properly, learning how to fight TOGETHER and not just as four separate entities.

But in ShadowClan, he catches POISONS. Runningnose and Blackfoot are planning to go into battle using the same tactics they used against WindClan-- things that won't kill right away, but will cause inevitable infection and kill slowly, and painfully.

And they're showing OTHERS about it, too.

And this UPSETS Firestar

But, AGAIN, he's able to talk to them. They have a point-- if BloodClan is going to use those claw-weapons, they ALSO have an unfair advantage.

Firestar, about to invent Rules of Engagement: "If they weren't going to use them though?"

That's how Firestar ended up in a british back alley. Meeting with BloodClan.

Scourge is cold and polite, as always, makes a comment about him being early.

Firestar tells him about the poisons, how he's seen them be used before, and how they will kill slowly,

Scourge is torn... at first, thinking it might be a lie, but then the shock of what might happen sets in. He asks, "and why would you warn us about this?"

"Because it's the right thing to do. We're fighting for our home and you're fighting for your promise; It should be a fair fight."

"which means you're reigning them in, then?"

Nods, "If you use the claw extenders, they're going to use an unfair advantage of their own"

As they dig deeper into the conversation, Scourge loses his patience.

"Enough. I've heard enough lies from Clan cats, forest fool. You untrustworthy lot NEVER uphold your end of the bargain, you come here to weaken us but we will not be tricked by a dishonorable foe ever again."

It's starting to hit Firestar now. Scourge... is kinda right.

He's RIGHT to be so distrustful of Clan cats. To think they're dishonorable. He's seen them all himself; liars, hypocrites, cowards, all of them allowing EVIL things to be done to innocent cats.

The pause seems to last days, but it's clear to Scourge he's thinking deeply about what he said.

When Firestar looks up he tells him, "I understand. But I am honorable."

Scourge laughs at that. The whole alley does.

But he stands firm. He will uphold HIS end. "And when you come tomorrow, you will see that I've held my people to it."

"Then you're a greater fool than I thought, weakening yourself."

"Tigerstar believed that honor made us weak," he says with defiance, "and you killed him. I buried him. Now he is dead; don't choose to keep his memory alive."

AND ON THE THIRD AND LAST DAY

When they all come to face off at Fourtrees, it is seen, most of BloodClan is not wearing their extenders.

And most of the Clan cats do not have deathberry-red claws.

There are just some. On both sides.

Scourge is not one of them. His claws are his own

Fire and Scourge step foward in the center, their armies behind them.

Scourge quietly points out the irony in a hushed tone, for what he is about to say could have offended either army;

"Two fools, alike in their dignity. Perhaps in another time we would have been Brothers-in-Honor, you and I."

Brother-in-Honor = Townmew term for someone who unites you through a shared, noble cause.

But Firestar is done. He had to say goodbye to many of his cats this morning, he doesn't know who will live and who will die. The Warriors stand behind him, proud and noble, but terrified to their core. He knows this.

This is their HOME. And he is the holy leader of ThunderClan, bearing the fragment of a star within him.

He's lost his patience, and his sympathy. When he responds, it's loud enough for both armies to hear. (Note: Ever so slightly performative)

"Last chance, Scourge! One step further, and you'll meet the full might of the Warrior Clans."

"Two fools," the little cat laments, "One far more foolish than the other!"

He screeches for BloodClan to attack, and like canon, Firestar loses track of Scourge in the torrent of angry cats

Battle otherwise goes very similar to canon. Out of left field, Darkstripe turns on Firestar with deathberry-red claws, furious and embarassed that he took Tigerstar away and prevented them all from fighting with "every advantage"

Graystripe. One-Man Firestar Defense Squad, body checks him and kills him, trembling in disbelief and immediate regret over his brother's body

Whitestorm loses his fight with Bone and falls, bleeding, to the ground

As he dies, he tells Firestar to let go of his grudges. He was wronged, he was hurt, but please don't let that stop him from making the right choice. Longtail should be deputy.

Firestar announces Longtail is his deputy right there.

The apprentices dogpile Bone in revenge, though I also wouldn't mind changing it. In any case, Bone's dead before Willowpelt can even realize her mate is gone

When he finally sees Scourge again, they grapple ferociously until the little cat breaks loose

Trying to avoid the grallocking move that ended Tigerstar in a blow and not knowing Scourge can't do that without his claw extenders, he pulls back and leaves himself wide open for a vicious transverse slash

He's split open from neck to arm, he can feel himself bleeding out

Scourge looks at him with pity but says nothing, flicking his claws like he's wicking the blood from a sword.

Game_Over.png

Firestar's vision fades into flashing stars and bursts into the silver-and-blue lights of StarClan

He sees the faces of everyone who he's lost, everyone he couldn't save. Spottedleaf who died in a raid. Stonefur whose execution came too soon. Pikepaw who refused to take refuge with his mother. That old bastard Deerfoot. Whitestorm whose blood is replaced with fresh stars.

Yellowfang comes forward, threading constellations like stitches through his gash, snipping at him to stop wriggling like a worm. Spottedleaf is also helping in a way he doesn't understand, licking his fur the wrong way and returning his lost blood like a Mi returns warmth to a cold kitten.

He smiles, filled with the wonderful sensation of a Sharing of Stars, until it hits him again that he needs to go back

Hmm.. maybe ill have it so Whitestorm had no last words and he gives them here. "Don't let the grudges of the past ruin the future. Make the choices you know are right."

Bring the theme together; he was talking about Longtail, but Firestar interprets it differently.

And when he wakes up in his body, gash aching but skillfully closed by the best healers he ever knew, he feels like they filled his veins with a lion's blood.

He grins, a mixture of humor and righteous fury. He didn't know Scourge's tricks, but he doesn't know HIS either.

Scourge has his back turned, focused on Onewhisker who's cowering in front of him. Firestar bowls into him, catching him off guard

"You! You died! I killed you!"

"I played dead."

With a second bolt of strength, Scourge tries to turn it around and they tumble, hissing and spitting, but the little cat doesn't get a second chance

He's pinned like prey, one paw holding his head and the other pulling down his shoulder, growling like an animal with its neck exposed for a brutal killing bite

Firestar lunges down and Scourge screeches, a horrible crack of teeth on bone quiets the battlefield

And then a SNAP

The sun glimmers on the bloodstained collar's fangs, one of the teeth cracked by Firestar's jaws, as he throws it behind him

Scourge's face is truly apparent to Firestar for the first time, his icy eyes wide with astonishment

Firestar recites the beautiful words that had once been made hollow by hypocrisy, "A true warrior does NOT need kill to win their battles," but he presses his paw into Scourge's pulse as a warning, "DO they?!"

He lifts his paw, and Scourge calls for BloodClan to retreat

Though the warriors are shocked at first, they saw his collar ripped off and his black fur soaked in his own blood, and understood they were losing

Just as united as any Forest Four following the command of a leader, each warrior disentangled as quickly as possible and streamed out behind their bolting leader

Some warriors ran after them to chase them out, and came back a few minutes later

And just like that, it was over. They were gone.

But, that collar is laying there, in the light of the setting sun. The inner fabric is purple, covered in a layer of red and brown from a mix of fresh and dry blood. Various teeth poke through, which he now realizes are from various predators.

Firestar gazes at it and feels Rusty's heart beating. He has that strange, indescribable feeling again.

It's... just like Clan cat hunting trophies, yes. It's a valuable, meaningful object to Scourge. It's a spoil of war made of spoils of war. That's why it's stirring his chest, surely. There's something... deeper to this item. It shouldn't be discarded; this item needs to be kept safe.

Or, perhaps, returned.

From there, the epilogue is gravy. When Firestar arrives in the alley again, this time flanked by several cats, Scourge is still recovering from his many injuries. He feels like he's been seeing Firestar's face too often-- and then the collar is gently placed on the ground.

Just like Firestar expected, there's an energy that washes over the gathered cats, and even the unreadable Scourge now seems awestruck by the gesture. The collar was something greater than just a collar; though Firestar couldn't remember if he had ever been told what a BloodClan collar represented.

Speaking, again, in Townmew, he explains that Tigerstar made Scourge an Impossible Deal, which the treacherous tyrant never meant to honor in the first place. But he is dead. BloodClan cannot have the territory and the Clan cats have won it fairly-- but what CAN we do for you? What were you seeking?

The answer was so simple that it was almost sickening. That they'd come to blows, and cats had died, over something that could have been worked out so easily. BloodClan had plenty of food from the humans' excess and hunting in the wilderness was not a skill they ever had anyway. What they wanted was materials.

Wood. Flowers and herbs. A chance to walk along the hiking trail and see the giant trees. Maybe the occasional piece of prey they didn't have access to in the town, like squirrels and frogs.

So, for a while. There was peace in the Forest, bringing the Tiger Era to a definitive close and beginning the fruitful, but short-lived Fire Era.

So! Them's the major changes. Take your pick of the scene you think is coolest, personally I've got a thing for Firestar ripping off Scourge's collar.

#BB!TPB #Better Bones AU #BB!Firestar #BB!Iceheart #BB!Scourge #Minor edit: Got possessed with more dialogue for the scourge confrontation scene

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hearteyesforjoel · 9 months

Text

Old Man

okay okay, we’re FINALLY here, it’s finally done. i’ve had this idea stuck in my head for forever, it’s based on a dream i actually had, go figure lol. enjoy, first fic i’ve written in literal years <3

word count: 1280

jackson!joel x reader

warnings: tbh not much, a creep, heavy kissing, cheeky joel.

Content. If there was one word to describe how you felt at the moment, it would be just that. The radio playing some old country song you couldn’t be bothered with to remember playing softly in the background, not overpowered by the light chatter of the Jackson patrons. It was a quiet night for the Tipsy Bison. It had been a pretty uneventful day of patrol, the only thing keeping you going from lookout to lookout being the promise Joel made that morning before you both left the gated community.

“Sweetheart, we gotta get going for the day”, his voice still raspy with sleep as you both enjoy the comfort and warmth provided by the fluffy duvet. Your head rising and falling on his chest with each breath he took. Through the curtains you could see a peak of sunlight, taunting you to start your day.

You pout slightly, “But I love seeing you like this; so relaxed and cozy. Maybe Tommy can find someone to fill in for us? I know, tell him we came down with a cold?”

He snorted, “Yeah right. The last time we used that excuse, he saw all of those lovely marks you left on me.” Joel smirks as he recalls the memory.

“Well, I’ll just have to hide those marks this time around”, you say as you grin up at him, sliding your hand up his neck and to his scalp, pulling on his hair lightly.

Joel groans, a devilish look flashes in his eyes as he tightens his grip around you. He hums, “How about I make you a deal? If you can behave yourself today during patrol, I’ll take you out tonight. How’s that sound darlin’?”

You raise your eyebrows, “Joel Miller wants a night out on the town with me? Feel like I just won the lottery”, you tease with a smile.

Joel grins a shit-eating grin and pulls you closer. “Don’t push your luck sweetheart”, he says as he places small pecks from your temple to your neck, nibbling along the way.

You’d gotten to the bar before Joel, he mentioned having to stop by Tommy’s. Something about a new area of Wyoming to patrol. You honestly weren’t listening to the details, too excited for the night to come. You hum along to the old country song playing in the background, sipping on a glass of whiskey. The burn providing a warm comfort to the cool breeze from the fall air outside.

“Hey, what are you doing here all alone?”, you heard a familiar voice from behind you as you sat at the bar. When you turn to look over your shoulder, you saw that the voice came from one of the stable hands. Jake? James? Maybe Jason?

“Oh, no, I’m just waiting for someone”, you said with a small, polite smile. If you’re being honest, the guy always gave you weird vibes. Sometimes as you would leave for patrol on your horse, you could feel a lingering stare, leaving the hairs on the back of your neck standing at attention.

As you focused your attention back to your glass, you saw the barstool next you pull out, your pest of the night sitting down next you at the bar.

“Well in that case, I’ll just keep you company until then”, he smirked, looking you up down. There it is, that familiar uncomfortable feeling.

“Ah, no, that’s okay. He should be here any minute, I’ll be fine to wait alone”, you say as you pick at your cuticles, hoping he’ll take the hint. He laughs, resting his arm on the back of your stool.

“Some friend he is. Really, let me get you a drink, sweetheart”, he says, the term of endearment sounding bitter coming out of his mouth.

Before Jake? James? Maybe Jason, can say anything else, you feel a familiar hand rest against waist. “Should I throw your ass out of this bar or do you want to walk out on your own? Think carefully”, Joel nearly snarls as he puts himself between you and the once confident, now tense man.

He raises his hands in surrender, “Hey, man, I didn’t mean any trouble. I’m just, I’m just gonna…”, he slides off the barstool and quickly leaves, tail between his legs.

Joel turns to you, concern all over his face, eyebrows furrowed. “Are you okay? Did he touch you?”, he quickly scans your form. His big, brown eyes fully of worry.

You grab his bicep, pulling him closer to you. His familiar scent putting you at ease. “I’m fine, I’m just glad you’re finally here”, you say as smile, happy to finally have a relaxing night with the love of your life. Neither of you have had a night to yourselves, usually spending your nights enjoying dinners with Tommy and Maria, movie nights with Ellie. It’s not that you don’t enjoy the company of your family, but sometimes you just want Joel all to yourself.

“I’m sorry it took so long, Tommy found an abandoned town a few miles out, thinks there could be supplies worth the trip. We’re gonna head out first thing in the mornin’, there’s an old clinic we need to check out. Could be medicine there.”

You sigh, knowing you’ll both have to cut the night short. Defeated, you stand up from your barstool, grabbing his bicep to lead Joel out of the quaint bar. “Well, come on old man, you need your beauty sleep if you want to get up bright and early”, you tease him, sliding your hand to the back pocket of his jeans.

Slowing down his stride, Joel stares into your eyes. His once soft brown eyes, now dark, a devious glint in his eyes. Without hesitation, he grabs your arm and pulls you to the side of the bar, away from any prying eyes. His actions surprising you.

You inhale sharply, your whole body heating up from just the simple touch on your arm. “Joel? Joel, what are you doing?”.

He quickly pins you against the brick wall behind you, caging you in between his arms. Joel leans in, his lips grazing your neck, his warm breath bringing chills to your skin. You’re breathing heavily at this point, your insides practically begging for him to do something, anything to alleviate the burning desire within you. Joel begins to coast his lips up from your neck, your jaw, and finally hovering over your own. With heavy eyes, you both stare into one another’s eyes, waiting for the other to break.

You can’t take it anymore. Finally, you give in and roughly bring your lips together, his chapped, yours soft. Quickly, you bring one hand to comb through his dark hair, the other to rest against the back of his neck. His own grabbing at your waist, placing one hand to your neck, just under your jaw. Softly, you whimper against him as he bites your bottom lip, allowing him to take control of the kiss, his mouth exploring your own. You sigh heavily, the hand in his hair pulling on his roots. He groans, pulling away from the kiss, both of you gasping for air.

“Where did that come from?”, you whisper, slightly out of breath.

Joel smirks, eyes still heavy and burning with want, “You wanna call me an old man, sweetheart? Let me show you what this old man can do“. He grips your hand, pulling you back onto the street, beginning the short walk back to your shared home.

There it is, that fiery desire that only Joel can ignite.

Yeah, you were in for a long night. Maybe you’ll tell Tommy you both caught a cold?

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if you read all the way through this, i love you.

thank you so much for reading, i definitely need to keep writing, ya know, leveling up my skills.

prompts and requests are always open and welcome! xx

#omg i did it #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x reader #joel miller #jackson!joel #the last of us #tlou #tlou fic #pedro pascal #writing #my writings #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction

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