Tumgik
#and why sleeping under a bed is very cool (it is very cool and provides excellent cover to back up spiderman if the bad guys sneak in)
blooming-violets · 2 days
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The Exhibit
[tasm!Peter Parker x fem!Reader]
Warnings: use of pet names such as Daddy/Princess/Babygirl, BDSM in the form of dom/sub, bondage/spanking/blindfolds/nipple clamps/a bit of masochism, anal play, exhibitionism/voyeurism
WC: 8K
A/N: This was an anon request for window smut off of this prompt list but tumblr said a big no no to (what I'm assuming) was one of the gifs I used for the graphic and hid the post so I had to delete it. I'm reposting it again minus the very bad so naughty terrible gif I used. Porn bots can run free and terrorize the tags with their tits and wide open pussy on display but how dare a smut writer use a tastefully erotic, black and white, gif of a blurry couple making sweet, sweet love against a far away window. So naughty. Such a bad girl.
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The elevator chimed with a pleasant musical melody as the doors slid open to their floor. There were only four rooms in this hallway. Behind each door held a luxury suit overlooking the busy streets of Florence. 
Peter had gone all out for their honeymoon. 
They’d spent the last week in Sardinia, making love on the beaches, drinking wine, making love on sailboats, drinking more wine, making love in their hotel room in the early morning with the windows open to enjoy the breeze…more wine…more sex…
They were struggling to keep their hands off of each other. Even now, as Peter guided her towards their room, his hand was slipped under her vibrantly red sundress and fingering the elastic waist of her cotton underwear. 
They left the beaches of Sardinia to come to Florence specifically to see the art but she wondered if they would ever actually make it out of their room with the way Peter’s hands teased her. She was surprised that he wasn’t sick of her yet. Seven straight days of love making and he was still as rowdy as ever. 
He let her admire the suite, watching her as he leaned against the wall, more interested in eying her legs in that dress than the luxury accommodations he had provided for them. 
“Peter,” she whispered, eyes wide as she took it all in. “This is gorgeous.”
Their beachside Sardina resort had a more airy and cool feel whereas this room screamed of sophistication and class. She knew Peter had been working like crazy leading up to their wedding but she had no idea this was why. 
“Like it?” He asked with an arrogant smirk toying at his lips. “A room fit for a queen.” 
She dropped her bag beside the bed and kicked off her shoes, flopping backwards onto the bed to stare up at the arched ceiling with thick, exposed wooden beams. Even the ceiling was stunning. 
She felt the bed sink as Peter crawled on top of her. 
His white, loose button up had the first few buttons undone so his athletic chest peeked through. She loved the sight of his chest hair being exposed. He looked so relaxed, laid back, and blissful with life. Filled with wine, good food, and love. The perfect blend of medicine for him to simply shine. 
He placed a soft kiss against her lips, humming appreciatively, “You look sleepy, babe. Why don’t you take a nap while I unpack our things. I’ll be quiet as a mouse.” 
A nap sounded wonderful after traveling between hotels. She rolled onto her side. It was warm enough that she didn’t need to snuggle under the covers. Peter ran his hands up her bare leg and slipped under her sundress to take one last squeeze of her ass before she slept. 
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She awoke to light kisses tickling her stomach. Peter was laid over her legs, her dress rolled up under her breasts so he could let his lips roam over her belly.
She stretched, a sleepy smile growing on her face, as she peered down at him. 
“What time is it?” She mumbled through the lingering sleep. 
“Time to wake up and play,” he said. He blew a raspberry on her belly with his mouth, making her laugh. “It’s about 4 in the afternoon. You slept all morning. I missed you too much to let you keep sleeping. Wake up and play with me. I’m bored.” 
He had his shirt completely unbuttoned and was stripped down to his boxers to get more comfortable while he lounged around waiting for her. 
Judging by the state of his hair, he looked like he might have gotten in an hour or so of sleep, too.
“Alright, alright,” she giggled. “I’m up. Let me go freshen up and then we can go explore the city.”
Peter pulled her up to her feet and gave her a quick spank as she walked off into the bathroom. That man always needed to have a hand on her ass in some way. 
By the time she came back out, she was surprised to see that he had yet to get dressed and had actually lost an item of clothing.
His shirt was now thrown onto the bed, cast aside without a care.  
“Underwear is a bold choice to go walking around Italy in but I admire your confidence,” she said with a teasing smile.  
Peter didn’t smile back. He had a look in eyes. A look that she knew very well. 
It wasn’t the “making love” look. 
It wasn’t the “quickie” look. 
It was dark, ravenous, and screaming of dominance. 
He had yet to give her that look on their honeymoon. So far, he'd been more playful and loving. This evening, he had other plans. 
They were not leaving this hotel room any time soon. 
A shiver of excitement shook off whatever sleep might have still been clinging to her mind. 
She blinked and he was pouncing on top of her. 
Her back hit the wall but his hand slipped protectively behind her head before it slammed, instead, falling into the cushion of his palm. 
Her breath exhaled from her lips at the force but, before she could catch it, he was attacking her lips with hungry, demanding kisses. His tongue pushed possessively into her mouth at the same time he slid a hand over her breast to fondle her over her dress. 
Taking what was his. 
“‘Can’t stand the sight of you in this dress.”
He moaned into her open mouth. 
“Makes me want to rip it straight off your body.”
He grabbed at her breasts, aggressive and horny, rutting his hips against her. 
“Do you know how hard it was not to fuck you while you slept?”
Her hair was being violently pulled, head crashing against the wall, her mouth falling open into a cry.
“Laying there, all innocent, legs spread open and begging for me to touch them.”
He clawed down her bare legs. Nails dragged against her skin. Feeling like she was getting attacked by a raging bear with the force of power behind each of his movements. 
“Teasing me even in your sleep. A foxy, little minx, aren’t you?”
She shuddered, lowering her voice to a whisper, ready to play along, “I picked this dress just for you. I knew what it would do to you.” 
He grabbed her wrists, slamming them above her head against the wall, and holding them in place. He let out a groan, grinding his stiff cock into her thigh. 
“Daddy knew his babygirl was a little tease.” 
A trickle of wetness soaked into her panties at the use of her favorite pet name for himself. 
What had started out as a joke early in their relationship, quickly became a genuine kink to turn them on. 
With that name on his lips, she could guess what kind of torture was held in store for her. It was going to be a dizzying whirlwind of fast, hard pleasure. 
Peter’s voice lowered to a near growl. 
“Pretty, little thing like you shouldn’t be traipsing around in a dress like that. You don’t know who might snatch you up.”
With both her wrists bound tightly in his one hand, he lifted her off the ground, dragging her up the wall, blatantly showing off his inhuman strength so she knew exactly what he could do to her if he wanted. 
To him, she weighed nothing. This was a man who had stopped moving trucks with his bare hands and thrown cars around like a kid with a ball. 
He let go and she dropped the few inches back to her feet with a surprised yelp. 
“You’re lucky you have me to protect you. Daddy won’t let anything bad happen to his little princess, will he?” 
She was shoved straight back against the wall, getting off on the feeling of being handled so roughly. 
He nipped at her ear lobe, sucking it into mouth the sounds of her tumbling whimpers. 
“Do you like to show off when you wear dresses like this? Do you like having men look at you? Do you like that they imaging fucking you when you walk by?”
“I only want you to fuck me. Only you,” she whined, trying to free her hands from the hold he had on her.
“Of course I’m the only who will ever fuck you, princess.” 
He tugged her hand back down to flash her newly placed wedding ring in front of her face. 
“That right there means that my cock is the only one that will ever split you open again. But that doesn’t mean others can’t look. People have eyes. They can see what I’ve got hanging off my arm.”
He brushed her hair away from her neck so he could lean down to graze his lips along her pulse points, murmuring against her heated skin as he continued to taunt her with his words. 
“How do you expect anyone to keep their thoughts pure when you’re walking around in this?” He pulled at the bottom of her sundress. “You’re putting on a show for them, babygirl.” 
“I didn’t mean to,” she cried. “It's hot out! I wanted to stay cool.”
Strong arms twisted her around so she was facing the wall, cheek shoved against the rough wallpaper. The force knocked the air from her lungs. 
He bent both her arms behind her back and a strong, sticky substance shot out to bind them in place. She knew the feel of those webs well and a smile danced on her lips. 
She loved being bound.
The pressure of being restrained was like a tiny slice of heaven.  
“Daddy doesn’t like it when you show off, princess.”
He flipped up the back of her dress to palm at her rounded cheek, giving it a harsh slap to the sounds of her delicious yelp. 
“Do you look at other men, too, when they’re looking at you? Do you imagine yourself with them?” 
She gasped in horror at the thought, “Of course not! I would never!”
No other man could ever compare to her husband. Not even in the game they were playing. There was always only Peter.  
He hummed like he disapproved of her answer, “Well…just to be certain...I think we need to make sure you can’t let those eyes wander.”
Something smooth slipped over her eyes, leaving her in the darkness, while he tied the blindfold tightly behind her head. 
Leather. 
She smelled leather. 
She couldn’t remember them ever owning a leather blindfold before. It must have been something Peter picked up when they arrived here but she couldn’t recall a time when he left her sight. 
She liked how heavy it felt against her eyelids. There was no way she could peek through this one. 
“There,” he whispered. “Perfect. Blind to my advances. Lost in the dark. Never knowing when or where I will touch.” 
He gripped her hips and spun her back around to face him. 
A wave of dizziness over took her and she swayed on unsteady, bare feet. 
“Careful, babe,” he whispered with a tenderness to his voice, breaking his haughty charade, and reaching out a hand to steady her. “I got you.”
Peter teased a finger under her chin, leaning down, to kiss her again. Soft and gentle, filled with the love and joy only a newly married man on his honeymoon could give. 
A coil of tension spread throughout her stomach as she melted into him. 
Her mouth opened to willingly accept his tongue past her worshiped lips to kiss him with all the passion she could muster with her hands bound behind her. 
Peter’s own hands couldn’t stay still for long before they began to wander. 
He squeezed her breasts through her dress, molding them to his palm, and rutting his hips into her. 
She moaned, long and drawn out, leaning her head back against the wall so he could attach his lips to her neck. He sucked on her pulse points like a vampire draining blood and she wished he had fangs so she could feel the sting of pain as he sank into her flesh. 
And then he was gone. 
She stumbled forward, nearly losing her footing without him to push against. 
Her head whipped around in the dark to try and find him through sound. 
It was useless. 
He was as silent as a spider.
“Look at the sight of you,” he chuckled, his voice dark and deep, dripping with desire. From the sound of his voice, he was across the room near the window. 
“You have no idea what you look like right now, do you? Don’t fret, I’ll describe it for you.
He was moving. Pacing back and forth down the length of the room against the far wall.
“The strap of your dress is halfway down your arm. The nipple of your left tit keeps poking over the fabric, desperate to be sucked upon. Your hair is already a damn mess and I’ve barely touched it. Your mouth keeps parting like it’s just waiting for a cock to fill it up. A horny little thing, aren’t you?” 
“Mmm,” she moaned, only getting more turned by his descriptions. “Peter. Come back. Touch me.”
“That’s not my name, princess,” he shot back.
His voice sounded different now, like he was up on the ceiling. 
“Daddy,” she begged, craning her blind head upwards toward the sound. “Touch me, Daddy.”
He gave a quiet laugh, “Come get me then.”
He was back on the floor. In a different corner by the bed. Jumping around the room. Silent. With only his voice to guide her. 
She took an unsteady step forward, blindfolded with her hands bound behind her. She didn’t know this hotel room very well. He knew that. 
Which was why he kept moving. Teasing her. Making her work for his love. 
She kept inching ahead, little by little. 
“Tick tock, princess. Daddy doesn’t have all day.” 
Behind her. 
She gasped, whirling around, stumbling back the way she came only to find nothing but air. 
With another step, her body bounced against the wall he had pinned her to and she staggered backwards. 
She tried to spin back to the way she started but was getting all turned around. 
He laughed at her pitiful efforts. 
In front of her again.
Near the windows.
Or maybe the beds? 
Was he at the door? 
She was spinning in circles. Getting disoriented. 
This wasn’t a fair game and she was getting frustrated. Her foot stomped angrily against the rug with a grumpy whine to accompany it. 
“Is my poor princess getting dizzy?”
She had half the thought to plop herself onto the floor and stay there until he came to her. 
But she didn’t want to lose the game. 
She was too stubborn to give up. 
“Watch out,” he warned. Still by the window. At least…she thought that was the direction she was facing. “If you move any more, you’ll run straight into the side of a table. Wouldn’t want my baby girl to get hurt.” 
The table. She remembered where that was in the room. 
He was by the windows. He was close. 
Excitement tumbled around in her stomach as she tasted her nearing victory. 
She shuffled to the left, feeling the table at her hip, and kept going towards the last place she heard his voice. 
Blind and bound until she heard his soft breaths directly in front of her, thankful that he hadn’t moved again. 
“Good girl, you made it,” he whispered. A soft kiss was placed on her lips as a prize. “As a special reward, Daddy’s going to take your dress off, okay, baby? He’ll be really gentle even though he wants to rip it to shreds.” 
She felt him snake an arm around her waist to rip through the webs binding her wrists. She immediately went to reach for him but he slapped her hands away. 
“Hands at your side or else I’ll spank you,” he ordered. “I’m taking my time. I’m in Florence. I’m here to admire the art. Don’t rush me.” 
The zipper at her side slowly inched down until it rested at her hip. 
His big, warm hands slipped under her straps, fingers scraping along her shoulder, as he pushed them down her arms. His head fell down to kiss her shoulder, dragging his lips across her heated skin. 
Her breasts held the dress up but the moment he gave a light tug to the bottom, it yielded quickly and pooled around her ankles on the floor. 
His shuddered breath told her that he was enjoying the view. Bare chested, nipples taut, and in nothing but her underwear and blindfold. 
The underwear didn’t last long. 
Peter slid them down straight after the dress until she was completely nude. 
“More beautiful than The Birth of Venus. We should put you in a frame and have tourists come to gaze upon that instead. Maybe I should dangle you from the wall…all tied up with nowhere to go…I’ll start my own museum right here since you love to be such a tease. I’ll put you on display and have everyone see the kind of beauty I married.” 
She was surprised to feel a wave of appreciative tears dampening her lashes. There was genuine love and admiration behind his words. 
Married. They were married. Finally. 
Her husband. 
She loved that she got to call him that now. 
Cool air breezed against her throbbing clitoris, halting the tears, to remind her how horny he had made her before she was chasing him around the room. She was too hot and eager to think about where that breeze was coming from. Drunk on her love for him. She bucked her hips to try and find some kind of friction for her to grind on. 
She squeezed her thighs together, rubbing them back and forth. 
“What’s the matter, baby?” Peter teased. “Need a hand?” 
“Please,” she gasped. 
“Hmm,” he pretended to think about it. 
She wished she could see him. 
She hated that he was so close but she couldn’t see exactly where. 
“I don’t know. With the way you were strutting around in that dress, showing off to the boys, I don’t know if you deserve my touch. Maybe you deserve to be punished instead? What do you think?”
He didn’t wait for any answer. 
Thwip!
Her left wrist was encased in a sticky, impenetrable substance and she jumped in surprise. 
She was yanked forward until she felt the cool breeze against her bare chest. 
The wind was softly blowing. 
She could feel it rustling through her hair and dragging up the goosebumps along her flesh. 
For the first time, she questioned exactly where in the room she was. 
Why did it feel like outside when they were inside?
“Pete?” Her voice wavered. “What are you-”
Her arm was dragged out to her side and lifted high above her head as she gave a yelp of fright. 
“Not my name, princess,” he chastised from up on the ceiling above her. 
Thwip! 
The same treatment was done to her right arm until she was bound, outstretched, and helpless. 
Her fingers wrapped around the thick web, holding onto it for purchase, as her toes just barely scraped along the floor. 
Peter chuckled to himself in amusement at her struggles, the sound coming from the ground behind her.
Always so damn silent. 
“You look like a sexier version of Jesus on the crucifix. I want to drive nails through those dainty little hands of yours and listen as you cry out for mercy.”
If her eyes weren’t confined under heavy leather, she would have rolled them in response to his dirty talk. 
“That sounds very appealing. Thank you,” her voice was dry and full of sarcasm, refusing to take him seriously.
Slap!
Her entire body jerked forward from the force of his blow against her ass. 
Strong. Stinging. 
Done with direct intention to cause pain. 
Punishing her for the sarcasm. 
She shrieked, mostly from the shock than the hurt, but immediately felt a trickle of wetness run down her thigh. 
“Won’t you be a good girl and remind me of my favorite rule?” 
His hand spread out over the stinging, hot skin of her cheek, giving her swift, hard pats to make sure the pain didn’t disappear too quickly as he spoke. 
She shivered under his touch, “Don’t talk back to Daddy. Ever.”
“Good girl,” he cooed. “Next time use that pretty, little brain of yours and think before you speak.”
Her hair was tangled in his large hand as he shook her head back and forth to further his point. 
“Otherwise, I’ll be forced to ball gag you.”
Fingers slipped between her thighs. 
She parted her legs the best she could for him to get better access to her core. 
A squelching of wet, soaked squishing sounds followed as two long fingers sunk inside of her. 
A low, deep moan of approval rumbled out his throat at the sounds. 
“You are absolutely drenched, my little whore. Something tells me you liked the pain. Maybe you were using that brain after all. Did you like it when Daddy spanks his naughty girl?” 
Her tumbling whines followed as nimble, expert fingers stroked at her pussy, drowning out any worded response she might give. 
Coaxing her to life. 
Waking up all her senses. 
She tried her best to hold her legs open for him despite feeling unsteady in her web binds. She wanted him to give her as much pleasure as he could and that meant letting him have easy access. 
“Does my baby like the pain?” He asked again, running the hand not buried inside of her against her still stinging ass cheek. “Come on, I asked you a question, use your words, pretty girl.”
“Mmm, yes, Daddy. I like it. I like it!”
Smack!
She yelped, throwing her head back as waves of arousal washed over her. The pain from the spank mixed with the pleasure of his touch was enough for another gush of fluids to soak into his hand. 
“Look at how hard your nipples have gotten,” he gave a dreamy sigh. “Oh wait, you can’t. My sweet, blind baby. All lost in the dark with nothing to look at.”  
Her breathing was becoming ragged in her ears. Her body swayed against the webs. 
Knowing hands wrapped around her stomach, leaving the warmth of her cunt, much to her displeasure. 
They trailed upwards, through the valley of her breasts, until they gripped around her neck. 
Her mouth opened in a silent gasp. 
“Guess where I went today?” His voice was nothing more than a low, darkening whisper. 
She couldn’t respond. His hand had tightened around her, softly squeezing, using a mere feather touch of his strength but still able to restrict her air flow. 
“While my princess was napping, Daddy slipped out to buy you some presents. Found myself a little sex shop. You would have loved it,” he mused. “They had vending machines full of toys. Picked myself up a few fun gadgets to play with.” 
He released his hand from around her neck, never wanting to hold her there for too long, and admired the way she gasped for breath. 
Fingers tweaked at her nipples. He hadn’t been lying before, they really were rock hard. She could feel how tight they were from his rough menstruations.
She could hear him rummaging around behind her when something cold dragged across her breasts. 
“Deep breath, princess.” 
Following his warning, the cold, grooved metal clamped down over her left nipple. 
She let out a genuine cry, her back arching from the pain. 
It gripped her tighter than his teeth ever had, dragging her nipple out from her body, and squeezing down painfully hard. 
The groves made it feel like little razors digging into her sensitive flesh. 
Peter huffed out a laugh in a sadistic amusement at her reaction, “You know, when the woman running the store saw these come out of the vending machine, she looked over with a nod and said something like ‘molto doloroso’. Now, I don’t speak much Italian but I’m going to assume it translates to ‘Those hurt like a bitch and your pain whore of a wife will love them.’ Am I right?”
She choked out a sob, squirming uncomfortably against the webs, “Ow. It hurts…too much…hate ‘em.”
“Oh, don’t worry, there’s another one right here! It’ll help balance out the pain so both those beautiful tits get a turn.” 
Another agonizing clamp bit down against her other nipple. The sharp, grooved metal felt like it might rip her nipple straight off her breast. 
The nipple clamps they had at home were capped with a smooth rubber. These were bare and ready to grip on to her tender skin with the strength of a fucking bear trap. 
She let out a full scream the moment it bit down, thrashing her body in an attempt to get away from the clamps. Crocodile tears rolled down her cheek from under the blindfold. 
“Shh, shh, shh!” 
A heavy hand cut off her cries by wrapping around her mouth. His breath was against her ear, hushing her, soothing her, running his lips over her forehead with quick kisses.
“Not so loud, baby,” he whispered. “You’ll draw a crowd with those cries.” 
“What?” She gasped through heavy, pained breaths. “Crowds?”
Peter’s hands reached up to slide the blindfold up off her eyes and tossed it onto the floor. 
He took a step to the side, watching her blink in confusion, as her tear blurred sight came back into focus. 
She had forgotten about the breeze. 
He had distracted her. 
Kept her mind occupied so she wouldn’t ask questions. 
She was tied up, stark naked, and splayed out directly in front of the arched floor to ceiling window overlooking the streets of Florence. 
The top half of the glass was pushed open, letting in the cool evening summer breeze, and making sure nothing muffled the sounds of her screams. 
And she had been screaming. 
“Peter!” She cried in horror, paranoid that anyone could look up and see her. They weren’t that high up in the hotel. Any curious person who decided to glance upwards would certainly catch her out in all her glory. 
Wack!
The sound of her sore ass being slapped filled her ears. 
Nothing could hurt more than her breasts at the moment and she welcomed the familiar pain his hands brought. 
She also couldn’t deny that growing, aching pressure happening between her legs. Her masochistic tendencies had yet to fail her. 
“Not my name,” he scolded. 
She whined, bouncing her leg against the floor in protest, and trying to tug at her bindings. 
“Let me down!”
She knew full well that those webs would never give but it didn’t stop her from giving it a shot. 
He leaned against the wall beside the open window, arms crossed, a prideful smirk sitting on his smug face, watching her struggle. 
“I told you I was going to put you on display.”
She never thought he meant it literally. 
Tears burned in her eyes at the wave of shame at being so exposed.
At least the shock helped to dull the pain in her breasts.
She scanned the tight streets below and was thankful to see that no one was stopped and staring. 
Yet. 
Her watchful eyes followed Peter as he pushed off from the wall and moved behind her.
Breath caught in her throat as his fingers found a home back inside of her drenched pussy. 
“Still as wet as ever, I see,” he noted. “You can cry and beg and plead all you want but Daddy knows the truth. He sees behind your tears.” 
Slick fingers circled around her aching clit. 
Toying with it. 
Teasing her. 
“You like being held up on a pedestal.”
A long, skinny middle finger sunk inside of her. 
Her head rolled back. Eyes closed. 
“You like people hearing you cum.”
His thumb on her clit. 
Brushing. Stroking.
Building her pleasure. 
“You like having others watch as your Daddy pleasures his princess.” 
In and out. 
Slowly penetrating her with his finger. 
Tending dutifully to that tiny bundle of nerves.
“You like the pain.”
He flicked at her nipple clamps. 
Sending shots of pain throughout her breasts.
Electrifying her. 
Soothing it over with those wonderful ministrations at her pussy. 
“You love me and you’ll let me do anything I want to your gorgeous body…isn’t that right?”
She whimpered. 
Eyes closed tight. 
Feeling that build of orgasmic pleasure rising. 
“I love you,” she breathed back, tears in her eyes. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”
He practically purred in her ear. 
Or maybe it was a growl. 
Whatever it was, the noise caused her cunt to gush in reply. 
He chucked, “That’s it baby, you’re so close. I can feel you tightening around my fingers. What do you say we give the people a show?”
He was gone. 
Leaving her empty. 
Dripping. 
Pathetically whining and begging for a finish. 
“Don’t worry, princess,” he called from the other end of the room. “Daddy bought some more toys. He’s going to treat his baby tonight.” 
She listened to the zipping of a bag as he rustled through to find what he was looking for. 
Her chest rose and fell in anticipation. Each breath brought back the dulling sting from her nipples. She tried to keep still, terrified more movement would draw attention upwards toward the window. 
She gave a quiet shudder at the thought and tried to imagine what she would look like from down below. 
The image brought a glint of a wicked smile to her lips. 
Something small and chilly brushed against her back door and she yelped in surprise. 
Slap!
“Hold still!” He scolded. 
The sound of a bottle squirting caused her to try to careen her head around to see what he was doing behind her.  
She managed to catch a glimpse of the butt plug he held in his hand. 
It looked a bit bigger than the small one they used at home but had the same metal teardrop shape. A red jewel flattened out the end. 
“Figured this was the next size up from your old friend. You leveled up from girlfriend to wife. Time to level up in other areas, too.”
Lube smeared over her tight hole as the cold, rounded point pushed against it. 
Not even a warm up with his fingers first. 
Peter really was in a dominant, pent up mood.
Her eyes slipped closed and her head fell back against her arched spine. She let out a deep breath, relaxing her body as much as she could, so it could slide in easier. 
“Ah, ow,” she gasped, hissing in pain. “Oh, fuck.”
Slow and steady he sunk it into her. 
He held it there, stopped in place, over the thickest part of the teardrop. Forcing her body to stretch to the foreign object. 
She tried to control her whines from being too loud. Her thighs trembled under her. Her face contorted into pain and her jaw clenched. 
More lube trickled down between her crack to help the little device along as Peter took note of her tensing body. 
“There you go, baby,” he encouraged. “Nice and easy. Breathe through it.”
He teased it through her ass, pushing it in a little ways and pulling it back out, making her continue to take on the thickest part of the plug just to keep up to torture a bit longer. 
“Please, Daddy,” she whimpered. “Just put it in. Please.”
“Aww, does my sweet baby need her ass filled? You’re Daddy’s little fuck toy. Daddy’s going to have any hole he wants. You have no say in where he ends up.” 
He refused to move it past the diameter, holding it steady. 
“Did you happen to catch the color of that tacky, little jewel they stuck on the end?” 
He pulled it back out. 
Teasing just the tip.
Exciting the bundle of sensory nerves around her anus and making her wriggle around. 
“Spider-Man red. Just for you.”
Finally, he eased the entire thing inside of her. 
“Ahhh!” She wailed. “Fuck!”
Filling her up. 
Swallowing the plug. 
Feeling it heavy inside of her. 
“So you’ll always remember who owns this ass.” 
Smack!
His hand came down hard against her bruising cheek. 
Ecstasy coursed through her veins at the sting. 
She was so full. Stretched and heavy. Uncomfortably aroused. 
An arm snaked up her own outstretched one to brush his fingers over her wedding ring, lacing his fingers with hers.
His bare chest pressed against her back, grinding his hips over her ass.  
His face fell against her neck, inhaling her scent, nuzzling his nose against her.
“My beautiful wife,” he breathed. “All tied up. Horny for her husband. Put out on display for all of Florence to see.”
Fingers wrapped around her waist to dip through her pubic hair, finding her heated crevice, needy for his touch. 
Palming. Flicking. Penetrating. 
“Nipples clamped. Ass filled. My name, cursed forever on your lips. All you need now is a cock to fill that empty cunt.” 
He fished it from the confines of his boxers. 
Dragging it along her soaked valley. 
Feeling it pulsate against her waiting lips. 
“No!” She gasped, staring down at the people below. 
She knew once he started to fuck her she couldn’t keep quiet. Her voice would soar out the open window and onto the people below. 
They would look. 
They would see her. 
“What if-” Her breath quickened. “What if someone looks up? They’ll hear me. They’ll look. I know they will.”
She didn’t need to see his face to know Peter had a cheshire cat grin growing. The sound of his voice was enough to hear his rising libido. 
“Then they’ll see a little princess fucking herself on her Daddy’s cock.” 
The bulbous head of his thick rod pressed between her folds. 
Sinking in. 
Stretching her out. 
He hesitated there. Stilling behind her. 
“Go on, baby. Fuck yourself. Let everyone see what a whore you can be.”
She almost didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to give in. She could play games, too. 
Her breath held in her lungs. Closing her eyes. Biting down on her bottom lip. 
Peter waited. 
The crown of his manhood nestled patiently in her pussy, being squeezed by her heated walls, kissed by her slick. 
Letting her throw her silent tantrum. 
She hung there, counting the seconds, fighting the urge to move, trying to breathe through her body’s desires.
Her legs were trembling. Her toes ached from holding her weight. 
It would be so easy to just…ease back…impale herself on his sword…give up. 
She could hear his labored breaths behind her. Smelled his cologne. Felt him twitching inside of her. 
“Close the windows,” she struggled to whimper out through her held breaths. “Let’s go to the bed. Take me there. Fuck me there. I’ll let you do anything you want. Just…not…not in front of the window.”
Peter tutted his tongue, “Since when has Daddy ever let you make the demands, hmm?”
He reached his hands up to her shoulders and gave a gentle push, getting tired of her defiance, “When I tell you to fuck yourself, you fuck yourself. I’m not going to do it for you.” 
Even the smallest of shoves from her shoulders was enough for her tiptoed feet to give out. She stumbled back, feeling his cock sink deeper. 
She let out a strangled cry. 
“No! On the bed. Bring to me to the bed!”
Her eyes were squeezed shut, refusing to see the window in front of them, torn between finding it extremely arousing and positively mortifying. 
“I’m sorry, princess. The bed is for good girls. The bed is for well behaved women who don’t wear little dresses and shake their ass as they walk for all the men to stare at. The bed is for lovers.” His hand gripped around her hair and shoved her face towards the window. “The window is for whores who get off on pain and love the attention their Daddy gives them.”
His voice lowered into a commanding, deep tone, “Open your fucking eyes and look at your audience.”
She blinked through the flow of overly emotional tears clinging to her lashes and forced her eyes open. 
People lined the tight, winding streets, walking lazily to their destination. Not one glanced up at them. Not one seemed to notice her out on display, front and center, above their heads. Peter was protected behind her body. She would be the one they see. 
Framed by the window. 
Art. 
That’s what he called her earlier. 
She was art and Peter, the artist. 
Helpless to whatever ways he wanted to exhibit her 
Little by little she sunk back onto his cock. Taking him into her. Eyes rolling back. Submitting to his demands until he bottomed out.
His chorus of pleased moans let her know he had won. 
She let her body get used to him inside of her. Her pussy knew his cock well by now but she liked to reacquaint them carefully every time they would meet. 
Peter was always a bit of a stretch. 
With the girthier plug shoved in her ass, her arms bound and outstretched, and her nipples screaming in pain, she felt the need to move a little slower with her pussy today. 
Gradual, small movements, easing herself up off his cock and then impaling herself back down. 
Slow and steady. 
She shifted on her toes, rocking her hips back and forth, taking him with longer and longer strides as her shameful whimpers grew into desperate cries. 
“There you go,” he murmured, brushing her hair back off her shoulder to nip at her skin with his teeth. “Ride Daddy’s cock, babygirl. Show everyone how good you can take it.”
Her own slick coated his shaft, making it slip through her without resistance.
He stayed fairly still behind her apart from making sure his hips were pressed forward enough for her to have easy access to his body. 
She was getting into a rhythm. Starting to get lost in the feelings. 
But, the harder she fucked herself, the more her breasts would sway. 
The more they moved, the more pain the clamps created as they bit down like they might cut clean through her flesh. 
It was getting to the point where it might be too much pain for her to enjoy and ruining her momentum on his cock. 
She hissed, biting down on her lip, trying to endure it the best she could manage. 
Peter shifted behind her, bringing his lips to her ear, and whispering for reassurance, “Color?”
She swallowed, trying to decide exactly what she was feeling, “G-green?”
He stilled her by gripping onto her hips, keeping himself buried inside her warmth, but moving his head around in an attempt to better see her face. 
“You sure? You don’t sound sure.”
She nodded, breathing heavily, “Almost yellow. Not quite though. But almost.”
“Which part?” He trailed loving kisses of safety along her neck, wrapping his arms around her waist to hug her sweetly from behind. 
“The clamps.” When she saw his hands immediately move to take them off her, she hurried to add. “Not yet! I…still like them…but soon, okay?”
“Soon,” he agreed, giving her one more adoration infused kiss to her cheek, before slipping back into character. “Daddy never told his little princess to stop, did he?” 
To shove her back into the role, he slapped her ass with three hard, lashing blows of his open palm. 
Each slap caused her breasts to bounce, sending shooting shocks of pure, agonizing pain through her body and a rush of warmth to her cunt. 
Pain and pleasure. Her favorite combination. 
“Looks like the sweet little angel is getting quite the bruise back here. If you keep misbehaving, you won’t be able to sit down for our breakfast tomorrow. Then everyone will know what a bad, little whore you’ve been.”
She whined in response, bucking her hips backwards to find his cock again, needing more pleasure to balance out the scales. 
“Eager little thing, aren’t you?”
He soothed his hands over her shoulders, pushing her down, sinking her onto his length.
“My pain hungry baby.” 
It wasn’t difficult to fall back into her previous rhythm. Her cunt was soaked and starving for its lover to come back home. 
“Fuck yourself on Daddy’s cock. Let those people down there know how much you love me. Be louder, princess. I want them to hear.”
She whimpered out a tiny cry. 
Her motions grew frantic the more he continued to talk dirty in her ear. 
That tiny cry grew into loud, unadulterated, guttural moans. 
The sounds of a whore taking her favorite cock. 
She struggled against the webs binding her. Her shoulders were starting to ache. Her arms were losing feeling. 
Her body was stretched tight. Nipples crying. Ass sore. The weight of the plug was even more noticeable with his cock pushing in and out of her. 
It felt like it was bouncing inside of her each time he pushed under it. 
Her toes hurt from being hung up on such an unsteady height. 
“Peter- Daddy,” she gasped. “Daddy, please…” 
She didn’t know what she was asking for.  
Some kind of relief. 
Something steadier. Something more concrete. 
“Shh, baby, it’s okay, Daddy’s got you.” 
He reached around to her chest with both hands, simultaneously unclamping her nipples from their prison. 
Fire erupted in its place as the blood rushed back. 
A new kind of pain bloomed. 
Searing and hot. 
Her breasts were in flames. 
She cried out. Loud and sharp. 
At the same moment, Peter ripped her down from the webs, still embedded on his cock as he wrapped her up in tight arms and pushed her flat against the window. 
Her hips pressed against the cool glass but her torso nearly bent out the opening. 
Her anguished nipples happily sought out the cool breeze. Soothing over the sting. Settling her inflamed body. Not caring who looked up. 
Peter gripped onto her hips so he could better ram into her. Her job was over. She had done what he wanted. 
Now it was his turn to take over. 
Her body surrendered to him. 
“Ugnnn,” she whined. “Fuck!!” 
Her hands clenched into fists against the glass. Her back arched. 
Eyes wide. 
Taking his thrusts with near drooling moans. 
His rigid shaft drove into her, surging deep up inside, stretching her walls and drawing out the most luscious rumbles of pleasure. 
His balls slapped up against her. The sound echoing around their vaulted ceiling. 
Filling her. Stuffing her full.
Both holes used and defiled. 
She couldn’t stop the noises she was making. Throaty moans, shrieking cries, babbling coos.
He was getting it all out of her.  
Someone was watching. Looking at them. Spying them from down below. 
A young couple.
“Daddy!” She sobbed. “They’re-”
“Shh,” he hushed her. “I know, baby. I see ‘em, too. They like what they see. They’re talkin’ about us. Enjoyin’ it.” 
A broken cry fell from her lips and she stared down through her tears at the couple. 
Her eye sight wasn’t the greatest. She couldn’t make out their faces very clearly but neither of them looked horrified. 
They looked…giggly…
The woman was running her hand along her partner's arm. His hand disappeared behind her back and traveled down to her ass. 
Harder and harder Peter slammed. 
She was being ravaged by his strength. Losing the ability to make any noise. 
Nothing but silent, open mouthed gasps and a raining of tears were all that came out. 
“Too-” He grunted, crashing into her again. “Hard?” 
Through a shuddering, gasping breath, she managed to choke out, “Don’t you fucking stop.”
As long as Peter was fucking her like this, he could do it any way he wanted. He could drag her out onto the streets and fuck her at that nosy couples feet if he pleased. 
It was his art show. He held the control. 
He didn’t stop. Didn’t slow. Didn’t pause. 
His finger marks would be bruised into the soft flesh of her hips for the upcoming days with how tightly he gripped them. 
She held eye contact with the watching woman down below. Stared straight at her. Sizing her up, silently challenging her to get as good a fuck from her partner as she was from Peter.
She wanted to make her jealous. Or horny.
Either was fine as long as the woman was thinking of her.  
“Yes, Daddy!” She cried, loud enough for her voice to carry down below. “Feels so good! Making your little girl feel so good!” 
She knew damn well Peter’s face was cast in the shadows behind her. The idea of this couple truely thinking she was being fucked by her own father made her laugh under her breath.
“Somethin’ funny, princess?” His voice was getting strained and she knew that meant he was getting closer to his release.
“Just enjoying my fans,” she gasped back. “They love what you’re doing.”
Her eyes were wild as she breathed in the fresh air. 
She felt free. 
She was married and in love. They were on their honeymoon in Italy. 
She was getting absolutely pounded by her husband in full view of a watching, interested couple.
She should be embarrassed, ashamed. 
But all she felt was bliss. 
That plunging, relentless cock, massaging her channel, thick veins grazing over that tender g-spot whenever she angled her body correctly, the weight of the plug in her ass, her aching nipples…
Everything was pushing her straight towards her final hurdle. 
Without much warning, it suddenly became all too much. No build up. 
Just explosions.  
A wave of ferocious, intense pleasure roared over her, sweeping her up, taking her by surprise. 
She came hard and fast. 
Sheiking. Crying out. 
Thrashing against the window, leaning half way out of it, trying to gasp for air. 
Peter grabbed at her hair to yank her back inside like he was terrified of losing her over the edge. 
“Fuck, princess,” he grunted. “Where ya goin’?” 
Her ears defended under the rush of blood swelling to her head but she was certain she was screaming in ecstasy from the way Peter’s hand clamped over her mouth to muffle her sounds. 
She contracted tightly around his cock, squeezing him, using him to further her explosion of pleasure, still feeling the stinging pain of her breasts to only shove her deeper into subspace. 
On and on her orgasm went. Unstoppable. As Peter kept driving into her and furiously rubbing his fingers over her clit. 
He kept her heightened. Overloaded. Knowing that it would destroy her.
She had the brief sensation of feeling him cumming inside of her. Feeling the spurt of warmth. Feeling full. 
But her agonizing long orgasm only served to weaken her rational thinking. She no longer existed. She was no longer on solid ground. 
Floating. Drifting through space. 
Lost amongst the stars. 
Finally, her body gave up. 
Finally, the orgasm came to a simmering hault. 
She was done. 
She hung limply against the window pane. Eyes rolling in her head. Twitching and whimpering. 
Peter scooped her into his protective arms, cradling her against his chest, peering his face to see their onlookers. 
“Shows over!” He called down to them. “Fuck off!”
Without his raging, pent up, sexual energy to seize control of his brain, he no longer liked the idea of anyone getting to view his naked wife besides him. His protective nature spiked to replace his dwindling arousal and he turned his back to the window to shield her with his body. 
He carried her away from their stares back into the safety of privacy where she belonged.  
She made no protests or struggles as their game finished. Her head hung limp against his shoulder. 
“My sweet girl,” he murmured in her ear. She was being placed on their bed. “Daddy’s going to clean you up. Wait here.”
Time wasn’t real. 
She blinked and he reappeared holding a warm, wet cloth to her legs. 
Over her thighs. 
Spreading her open. 
Cupping it against her used and battered sex. 
Gently cleaning away their mess. 
“There,” he whispered. “All better.”
Peter crawled into bed in front of her, wrapping an arm over her waist and kissing at the tip of her nose. 
Gradually, she returned to her body, her mind drifting slowly back into her skull. 
“Mmmm,” she groaned. “Everything hurts. Think you broke me.”
He chuckled to himself, soothing a hand over an abused nipple, “Sweet girl. I’ll try to find you some ice in a minute. But, right now, I’m not leaving your side until you fully wake up. Rest, baby. You’re safe. I’ve got you.” 
When she adjusted herself on the bed, sliding a leg through his, she took note of the fact that the plug was still snuggly lodged inside of her. 
Their night was only just beginning. 
He had left it there on purpose. 
She kind of liked it. 
Maybe she would wear it out to dinner…
41 notes · View notes
Text
Mine
Summary: A speeder ride with you gets Din more worked up than he anticipated. Good thing there's no one around and he could just... take care of his little problem.
Pairing: Din Djarin x fem. reader
Wordcount: 1.5k
Rating: E
Warnings: established relationship, smut (public sex, unprotected sex), feelings, Din is just really horny for his girl, marriage proposals
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The heat was slowly killing you. 
You still weren’t sure why Din insisted you had to come with him to visit Cobb Vanth. Not that you didn’t like spending time with Din. Especially one on one time with Grogu staying behind with Peli. 
But hourlong rides on a speeder through the hot desert were something you very much did not like. 
No matter how close you got to sit in front of Din while he piloted the speeder back towards civilisation. It would be a couple more hours before you would reach the gates of the city and you allowed your head to rest back against Din’s chest, the Beskar of his chest plate surprisingly cool to your heated skin. 
You had pulled a linen cloth over your head after getting sunburned so bad once before, only bacta helped, your head and body now shielded from the sun. Maybe you could sleep. Din wouldn’t let you fall from the speeder. 
Din on the other hand was slowly dying. 
You were constantly wiggling against him, trying to get comfortable. He heard every single sigh you released, could practically hear your thoughts. 
He knew how much you hated being out in the heat and on a speeder. 
You had told him about the accident you had with your father when you were younger, how only sitting on a speeder now made you uneasy. And he knew he should have left you back in the city. Maybe pay for a more comfortable room at an inn so you could enjoy some relaxing quiet time now that you were all free. 
But the selfless part of him wanted to have you with him on this little expedition. He had planned to ask you to marry him last night when you had smiled at him in the moonlight, but the words had been stuck in his throat, overwhelmed with how lucky he was to call you his. 
You continued to wiggle in front of him, most likely trying to figure out a position that would be comfortable for the next few hours. 
Which was fine. He wanted you comfortable. 
The problem was all your wiggling against his crotch made him hard.
See, last night he had many plans for you, plans that involved celebrating you hopefully saying yes to his proposal, but you ended up being so exhausted from the day long travel that he had to carry you to your bed where he watched over you all night instead of making you scream his name. 
It was insane to travel back today but Cobb hadn’t even been there for their meet up and you both decided it was better to travel back and then leave the planet. 
Somewhere colder. 
Somewhere he would finally ask you to marry him. 
„Din?“ He heard you ask. He tilted his helmeted head towards you, feeling you shiver as the cold Beskar rubbed over your skin, the linen cloth falling from your face. 
„Can you find a spot for a quick break? Somewhere with shade?“ You asked. 
„Of course,“ he promised, already looking around, the many sensors in his helmet looking for a spot, finding one only a few minutes later. 
You hummed satisfied as you saw the spot he was approaching with the speeder, a mountain formation with some dead trees in front of it. 
Din groaned when you pushed your body back against him and he could hear your gasp of surprise when you felt him hard against your ass. 
The speeder slowed down until he parked it right under one of the old trees in the shade and he took a deep breath, enjoying the little shade the mountains and trees were providing.
The spot looked like a dried out waterhole. 
You closed your eyes, pulling the fabric that covered your face down completely to take a deep breath, your body resting against Din’s. 
He brought one of his gloved hands down to rest on your thigh, squeezing it lightly. Biting your lip you pushed your ass against his crotch and you felt him tense for a moment before his other arm wrapped around your middle, pulling you even closer against him. 
„All your wiggling made me hard,“ he groaned and a small smile came to your lips. 
„And you driving this made me wet,“ you said and his fingers on your thigh tensed.
„What are you gonna do about it?“ You challenged and you could feel the deep breath he took, his chest rising against your back before his hand dropped down between your legs, cupping your clothed pussy. 
„I’m gonna fuck you on this speeder. In the middle of the desert,“ he said and you hummed. 
„Yes,“ you gasped, his fingers rubbing against you. Your lips parted, your head falling back against his chest.
The next moment he was off the speeder, turning you around so you were sitting with your back towards the handlebar, his hands protectively keeping you up as he stood between your legs. His helmet tilted, looking down at you and you sucked your bottom lip in, letting go off his hands, to take your top off, hearing him groan through the modulator of his helmet as you exposed yourself to him. 
He ripped his gloves off, his hands cupping your tits in his big palms. 
„Such a good girl for me. Letting me fuck you out in the open, huh?“ He hummed and you nodded eagerly, and he pinched one of your nipples, making you moan. 
„Lay down for me,“ he whispered and you slowly let your back lay down on the worn leather of the speeder, your hands coming to rest behind you, holding onto the handlebar.
Din’s hands ran up your thighs until his fingers hooked into the waistband of the pants you were wearing, 
„Up,“ he hummed and you obeyed, arching your back first so he could pull your pants and panties down before you raised your legs and he took them all the way off, leaving you laying completely naked in front of him. 
„Maker, you’re beautiful,“ he said in awe and you smiled up at him as he stepped closer, his hands parting your legs, his finger slipping through your wet pussy, humming as he found you wet and ready for him. 
Biting your bottom lip you watched him as he unbuckled his belt, followed by the sound of his zipper and finally his hand pulled his beautiful cock out of his pants, his fingers closing around his length, pumping it slowly as his helmet tilted down to look at your pussy. 
Your eyes closed as he used the tip of his cock to play with your clit, circling it before he slipped it through your pussy, pushing into you just so the tip filled you before he pulled out again, playing with your clit again. 
„Always so wet for me,“ he praised and you whined, one of your legs hooking behind him, wanting him inside of you. 
„Please Din,“ you whimpered, looking up at him, „Fuck me,“
And finally he did, pushing his cock into you in one deep thrust, pushing the air out of your lungs as he filled you completely.
„Yes….“ You moaned and he slowly began to move at first, letting you stretch around him, getting used to his girth, because no matter how often you took him, it was always a stretch.  His hands pulled at your legs so they were laying over his shoulders before he took hold of your hips, fucking into you faster, harder, making you cry out. 
„Wanna make you mine,“ he grunted, his fingers digging into your skin as he fucked you harder. 
„I’m yours. Always will be,“ you whined, already feeling close. 
„Yeah?“ He asked and you nodded. 
„Fuck yes,“ he groaned, changing the angle of how he was fucking into you, hitting that one spot that made you see stars, and you moaned his name. 
„There it is,“ he said, and you could hear the smile in his voice. 
„You gonna be my good girl and cum for me?“ He asked and you only nodded, your lips parting, gasping for air every time his cock hit that spot. It only took another couple of his thrusts for you to cum, body shaking as he fucked you through your orgasm. 
„Always get so fucking tight for me. Gonna make me cum,“ he groaned and you nodded. 
„Please Din. Please cum inside me. I wanna feel it,“ you whimpered, clenching around him as he continued to fuck into you, a small smile sneaking to your lips as you felt him twitch, inside of you, pumping his cum into you moments later, groaning your name until he stilled, his cock still inside of you. 
You let go of your grip around the handlebars when he reached for you, letting him pull you up against his chest, shivering when you felt the cold Beskar against your skin.
Your eyes were closed when you saw him reach for his helmet, pulling it up just so he could kiss you softly, his lips moving over yours. 
„Marry me,“ hummed against your lips and your lips parted in surprise, your arms crossing behind his back, wanting to be even closer.
„Yes,“ you smiled, shrieking when he pulled his helmet off to kiss you properly. 
397 notes · View notes
heartsforhavik · 3 months
Text
yandere! re2 leon kennedy x reader
✰ warnings: stalking, sub leon, slightly nsfw but not smut, leon is a creepy masochist, kidnapping, no use of y/n or name, gender neutral reader, not proofread bc it's 2 am for me rn
✰ summary: you were never very close to leon, but you harbored some feelings for him. but your entire view on him changes when you get invited to his place and you find out how he truly feels about you...
✰ a/n: remember when i used to be a havik account? good times. also i still *only* take reqs for mk1 characters. ik i wrote genshin and now i'm writing resident evil, but i am not entirely comfortable with taking reqs for them yet soooo here's me just dipping my toes into the waters of those fandoms. still sticking to mk1 tho. for now. also it's been a hot minute since i played re2 so if it's ooc i apologize.
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leon thought you looked so pretty in your sleep. you looked completely peaceful and unbothered. your bedsheets covered your entire body except for your ethereal face, which he could stare at all day. the moon provided a dim glow through your window, giving leon a clear view of your entire bedroom while you slept. sure it may be creepy or a bit stalker-ish of leon to watch you sleep, but he couldn't help it! you were just so irresistible. if only you knew how much he loved you, and how he was capable of protecting and providing for you. he has the potential to be the best boyfriend to you. but you didn't even know him that well, and he was fully aware of that fact. so that's why he suddenly got an idea while he watched you sleep that night. it was a brilliant idea. he could invite you to his place and gain your trust! leon didn't want to waste any time, so he would immediately ask you first thing in the morning.
when you woke up that morning, you got a call from leon a few minutes after you got out of bed.
"i know it's a bit early in the morning, i hope you weren't sleeping... if so, i'm really sorry. i mean, i didn't know when to call you because i didn't want to bother you but at the same time i just really wanted to ask you something." leon rambled.
"no worries, leon. you could never bother me. besides, i just got out of bed. this was so perfectly timed, it's almost as if you memorized my sleep schedule." you joked.
"oh, yeah, that's crazy. imagine that," leon chuckled nervously. "um, anyway, i was just thinking... would you like to come over to my place later? i just thought that we know each other a little bit, but i'd like to get to know you more, since i think you're pretty cool and stuff, so, uh, yeah..." he trailed off, waiting for an answer.
upon hearing his proposal, you lit up in excitement. you always thought he was cute and wanted to get to know him, but you were too nervous to make the first move. this was a great opportunity.
leon was nervously fiddling with his fingers as he waited for your response. the longer you took to respond, the more his anxiety grew. he could feel the sweat forming on his skin and his chest tighten. what if you weren't interested in him in that way? was he being too forward? were you too busy?
you took a deep breath before you finally responded, mustering up the courage to say something. "i'll visit in a couple hours. i'll see you then, leon." you responded quickly, hanging up the phone and getting ready to see him.
leon's heart almost jumped out of his chest when you finally responded. he dropped his phone and immediately got to work, cleaning his place and hiding the pictures of you sleeping and your old clothes in a box under his couch.
he worked very hard to tidy everything up, wanting it to be perfect for you. only the best for you.
when he finished cleaning, he sat on the floor in front of his door like a puppy waiting for its owner. he patiently waited for you to knock on the door and come in, even though it would be a couple more hours until you arrived.
after a few hours of leon not moving a single inch, you finally arrived. as soon as your knuckles grazed the door to knock, leon swung it open with superhuman speed.
"thanks for coming! i hope the weather wasn't too harsh on you." leon greeted, stepping aside to let you in. he didn't actually know if the weather was harsh or not, he just said the first thing that came to his mind to start a conversation with you.
"thanks... and uh, the weather isn't bad at all. it's just a bit windy." you responded, awkwardly standing by the door.
leon was trying his hardest to act calm, but his heart was racing and he could feel his palms getting sweatier and sweatier. you were standing right next to him! and you were alone together! he could've just died right then and there. instead of watching you through your window, you're right in front of him! instead of breaking into your house and stealing and sniffing your clothes, he can just smell you right by him! he was in heaven.
for a couple hours, you both spent time together by watching movies and chatting, getting to know each other more and more. leon even ordered dinner for you both, and somehow he got your favorite food, and he claimed it was just intuition. it didn't even feel like hours had passed, since you were both enjoying yourselves.
"so, uh, do you like this movie?" leon awkwardly spoke up, as you both sat on the couch in front of his tv. you simply smiled and nodded, too tired to respond. it was a random film that you weren't familiar with, and you watched it in silence next to him. you were both clearly tired after that long day, but leon didn't want you to leave just yet. so he started awkwardly starting new conversations or asking you questions, hoping to keep your attention on him. he loved the amount of attention you already gave him that day, and he was still giddy that you agreed to visit him in the first place. all he needs to stay happy is for you to look at him. but you were literally sitting on his couch and spending time with him, and it just made him so overwhelmed with joy. it gave him hope that you could work as a couple someday, and you would never know about his unorthodox antics to get to this point.
or at least that's what he thought.
at some point, leon excused himself to the restroom and left you boredly swinging your legs back and forth on the couch. but you felt your leg kick something hard underneath the couch. when you decided to investigate, you found a hidden box. curious as to why it was hidden, you decided to open it and look inside.
big mistake.
you found some old clothes and underwear that you thought you lost, pieces of your hair, various pictures of you sleeping, a few grocery lists and paperwork that you thought you threw away, and even pages ripped out of leon's journal describing his dark fantasies of you. some of it had some mysterious white stains on it. it was disgusting, and it made you sick to look through it. you thought leon was just a cute sweetheart, but it turned out he was a stalker and a creep. you were so shocked, that you didn't know what to do. should you run? call someone? but it was unsafe, because he clearly knew your address and a lot of your personal information. you had no idea what to do, so you stayed frozen in shock.
when leon returned, he saw the horrified look on your face and saw the box in your hands. his heart dropped. you knew his secret.
"shit. oh my god, uh, it's not what you think. i swear, i just, uh, fuck..." leon stammered, dropping down to his knees in shame.
"what the fuck is this? how long have you been stalking me, you fucking creep?" you yelled, standing over his shaking form.
"haah.. i... uh.." leon seemed to be breathing weirdly, and you weren't sure if it was out of anxiety or pleasure.
"and this," you picked up one of the pages from his journal and waved it in front of his face. "what the fuck is this? you are so fucked up... are you in love with me or something? or is it just some weird ass sexual obsession?"
"i.. i do love you! of course i do! this isn't how i wanted you to find out, but i really do love you! please don't take it the wrong way. i don't want to hurt you, i just want to be with you. i want to feel you and- and spend every waking moment of my life with you.. please don't hate me." leon begged, grasping onto your leg pathetically.
"you're sick in the head. and you're nothing but a pathetic stalker." you scoffed. all the trust and affection you had for him went out the window after you opened that box. there was no way he can get your trust back. hell, you were willing to cut contact with him and move to another country at that point.
"fuck... okay, maybe i am.. but, uh... shit." leon struggled to get his words out, as he felt aroused by your degradation. he never thought it would feel so good to have you yell at him. he could barely even speak, it just felt euphoric for you to scold him for his actions. you expected him to panic, but he seemed to have mixed feelings about the situation. he was still horrified that you discovered his dirty secret, but he had stars in his eyes the more you screamed at him.
"oh my god... you're a masochistic freak, huh? you like it when i yell at you? god, you're so fucked up." you spat, grabbing his collar and lifting him up to your level.
leon whimpered at the sudden contact, not responding to your degredation and simply squirming at your touch.
you sighed. "are you going to explain yourself? or are you just going to keep babbling nonsense?"
after getting no response, you dropped him and started to grab your things and leave.
"i.. i love you so much!" leon blurted out. "please don't leave! i promise, i can make it up to you! i'll do whatever you want! i can uh... i can provide for you! you won't have to lift a single finger for the rest of your life! and uh... i can cook and clean! sort of. i'll learn how to take care of you. i'll show you that i can be a good boyfriend if you let me! please, just love me! i did all these things for you and i promise i will stop if you want me to! please, don't leave."
leon stood in front of the door and desperately held you in place, not wanting to let you leave.
if you chose to stay, leon would be overjoyed. he would keep his promise and make it up to you, spending the rest of his life protecting you from harm and doing anything to keep you happy. your well-being is his number one priority, he'd make himself look like a fool if it meant getting a smile out of you. just let him love you. you don't need to give him anything in return!
if you chose to leave, leon would be a sobbing, sulking mess for about an hour or two before he decided on what to do. he still had all of your information. he knew pretty much everything about you. he would probably do something to force you into being with him, such as faking your death and kidnapping you. you have nobody else now. you have to be with leon now. he is the only one that still loves you and will keep you happy. even if you're mad at him now, he has hope that someday you will warm up to him and be willing to have a relationship with him. he'll wait patiently for that day to come.
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c0la-queen · 2 months
Note
RAGHHHHHHHHH
Could you ever so kind and provide some general dating Headcannons for all the four boys?? 🥺👉👈
Maybe some extra with red leader or someone else if you’re fine with that??? 🥺💜
Mwah mwah you have amazing work <3 /p
Oh my gods I am SO sorry that this is so late!! For some reason, Mr. Tumblr decided not to notify me about your ask?? And then I was at my bestie's house this weekend, so I haven't checked my inbox until now. Begging for your forgiveness rn Anon!!
Also literally kissing you for asking for Red Leader!! Mwah, mwah!!
---
Edd
If you are dating Edd... girlie I am so sorry for your sanity.
Don't get me wrong, I love Edd! He was my first Eddsworld love, my pookie bear for real! But he's the biggest bastard of the entire gang and I stand by that.
Calls you dumb pet names to try and make you laugh. Sugar Tits (regardless of gender or lack thereof, might I add), Baby Doll, Sexy.
He WILL grab/slap your ass all the time. Even in public. Only grins when you glare at him.
This man is a horrible influence. It will be so hard to get your shit done if he has decided that you need to be spending time with him. Why worry about work or chores when you could be all cuddled up with him and Ringo on the couch?
Will sulk if you reject his attempts.
If he's trying to get shit done and you're pestering him for attention? He will drop his basket of laundry or the dishes in his hands in a millisecond.
If he's working on a commission or animation, he'll let you sit in his lap in his chair, let you sit all pretty for him while he works. When he finishes, if you've fallen asleep by then -which you usually do - then he'll carefully move you both to his bed and snuggle up to you and take a nap with you.
Speaking of cuddling, he does naturally run hot. Comes with being a big boy <3 But if you don't enjoy that, then he'll use his powers to cool down his skin for you. Anything to keep cuddling!
He also uses his powers whenever possible. Will abuse them without shame. He puts things on the highest shelf, just so you have to him for help. He'll put patches of ice on the floor under your feet, just so he can catch you before you fall (he'll never let you actually get hurt), and uses his super strength to scoop you up randomly and carry you around.
You cannot show your text messages to ANYONE. He will say filthy things, just to fluster you. Horny Bastard. Finds ways to turn even the most mundane conversations into teasing.
He'd do cute couple things with you, like painting together and swapping canvases every 5 minutes. His favorite is going to cat cafes. The cats literally love him, its like he's made of catnip with how they swarm him.
Physical affection is a huge thing with him. Even little touches throughout the day, like ruffling your hair as he passes by, or a big hug from behind while you fix food.
Overall, big teddy bear that just likes to see his darling blush.
Tom
As I've stated in previous works, Tom is a secret romantic.
He's not a traditional romantic like Matt, but he's romantic in his own way.
Likes parallel play a lot. Finds it relaxing to just sit in his room, testing new songs on his bass while you lay on his bed reading a book. Or in your room, lounging on one of your plush beanbag and organizing his Spotify playlists while you fold your laundry.
Dates with him consist of record stores, concerts, and late night walks.
He'll sing for you if you ask him to.
Very down to earth, both as a person and as a boyfriend. If you have problems, he'll listen patiently until you're done, then help you brainstorm solutions. He doesn't downplay or ignore your feelings, but he doesn't jump to emotions like others might.
He tends to sleep in late on his nights off, since he's more of a night owl than anything. You know that, so you've made it a little tradition to fix him coffee around 11. You know exactly how he takes it, and he always thanks you with a kiss on the cheek and a sleepy, mumbled "you're the best."
Very caring. He'll make sure you've eaten and had water. Will usher you to bed if he can see that you're tired, or do your chores for you if you can't do them for whatever reason. If you can't sleep, he'll make you a mug of chamomile tea and sing you a little lullaby.
When it comes to his monster tendencies, he tries to keep you away from it all. He's bitter about what he is, and he thinks that you're better off separated from that side of him.
At the start of relationship, he'd get angry if you tried to push it. He'd snap at you, distance himself, not talk to you for maybe a couple of days. Further on in the relationship, though, if you push the issue and reassure him that you love every side of him, even the monstrous one, then he'd be more willing. Willing to let you in, to let you see that part of him. He'd be nervous about it, but he'd do it because he loves you.
Matt
He is a traditional romantic! His Mama raised him right, and he drinks his Respect Juice.
Makes sure you two have date night at least once every week. Dressing up nice, going out to dinner or a play, taking a walk through the town to wind down the night. Heading back into the house, changing back into comfortable clothes. He'd wipe your makeup off for you, if you wear it.
Absolutely the kind of guy to get down on his knees in front of you and unbuckle/untie your shoes or high heels for you. He's just so devotional.
If, for whatever reason, you guys are unable to have your date night, he'll make it up to you in some way. A bouquet of your favorite flowers sitting on your bed with a little note. A passionate kiss before one of you has to leave the house. A heartfelt love letter sealed with wax.
Makes sure to text you throughout the day with sweet messages. Compliments, "I love you"s, selfies, updates on what is happening at work. Or just reminders that he's thinking of you. Misses you.
Likes to cook meals for you if its just the two of you at home. Breakfast is his forte, but he's not the worst at following a recipe.
Always amazing for advice. He'll let you talk to him while he hugs you from behind. If it's something sad, he might cry. Just the idea of you going through something negative makes him sad, too.
If he doesn't have advice for you, he'd do anything in his power to find someone who does. One of the other roommates, or even his mother, if you're comfortable with it.
Speaking of his mother, she absolutely adores you. Since Matt has such a good relationship with her, he's already told her so much about you. She thinks its wonderful that her baby has fallen in love. After a while, Matt will even bring you along to his lunches with his mother. You two hit it off instantly.
If you're okay with it, then Matt would love to show you off on his social media. He thinks you're so gorgeous, the entire world should know that he managed to land you. Its never anything invasive, and he always gets your permission before he posts things. Blocks any weird or gross comments.
Loves going on shopping dates with you. Most of the time, its at the mall or a mall in a different town, because he loves walking around and window shopping. Occasionally, he'll take you to more expensive stores. It doesn't bother him, he loves spoiling you. No matter where you two are, he'll buy you anything that you want. If you are adamant to spend your own money, he won't put up too much of a fuss, though he does prefer to pay for you.
He'll do that couples trend with you where you find nail polish that matches the other's eye color.
Gift giving is just one of his love languages in general. It makes him so happy to give his loved one things that he bought. For you specifically, he'll also throw in hand made gifts. He may not be the most talented artistically, but he'll stay awake late into the night, sitting on the floor with a YouTube tutorial playing, paper and cardboard scattered around, a pencil between his teeth, paint on his hands and smeared on his cheek. The end result may look a little crude, but he'll still present it to you with pride. And, of course, you always love it.
Tord
Tord is probably the most romantically stunted of the four. Its not that he doesn't love you, far from it really. He just grew up in an environment where love wasn't freely given, and was often limited for appearances.
His father, as the Red Leader, insisted that he keep a professional and feared image. So, Tord never saw him being affectionate with his mother.
It might be hard at first. You'll struggle. You two may fight. But you'll always make up in the end. He'll listen to you, try to understand your point of view.
He's not against physical affection, but he's able to live without it. Will indulge you whenever you ask. If he's busy, which he usually is, he'll let you drape yourself over him from behind while he sits in his chair, letting you rest your cheek on the top of his head and watch him work.
More than anything, his love language is words of affirmation. Despite being a man of few words, he'll always give you praise. He'll make sure you know that you are his, he is yours, and he loves you. Nothing will change that.
Scary dog privilege. He'll always walk just behind you in public, keeping a guiding hand on the small of your back. Stays alert of you surroundings and the people around, so that you don't have to. You don't even have to worry about people approaching you in public. One piercing glare from Tord is enough to deter anyone.
Not the best at giving advice to problems. He'll listen, but sometimes he can't quite understand why something is an issue. Doesn't invalidate your feelings on purpose, it just happens inadvertently at times. Always, ALWAYS apologizes and holds you close when he realizes what he did.
His preferred dates are nights in at home. Cuddled up on the couch with takeout watching shitty rom-coms. Cooking food that he ate growing up in Norway while you sit at the kitchen table watching. Going to the convenience store at midnight to get Ben and Jerry's in the middle of anime binges.
You become his crutch. When he's having bad paranoia on nights that are too quiet, he'll seek you out. Just having you lay in bed with him, warm and solid and breathing, always calms him down.
He will never let you meet his parents. You are one of the very few good things in his life, and he wants to keep that away from his fucked up home life. Might let you meet his little sister, but not for a long time.
Surprisingly, he does tend to talk more when its just the two of you. He allows you into his head, verbalizing his thoughts to you. He'll ramble about his projects, tell you about the history behind his culture, or rant about things that annoy him. Denies it vehemently in front of others.
He is a huge tease, second only to Edd. What's dangerous is how casual he is about it. Loves making you squirm, and he'll never even change his expression. Sometimes he won't even be looking at you, but rest assured that he is swimming in satisfaction over how flustered you are.
Red Leader
I have so many thoughts about him. Oh my lord.
This is going off the scenario where Reader is a Red Army soldier and met him through the army, after the events of The End.
I want to clarify that this is NOT following the events of TBATF!!! This is my own Red Army timeline, what I refer to in my Eddsworld bubble as "The Bad End"
There are two ways that you'd be able to catch Red Leader's attention. Either you are an extremely talented soldier that does well among your peers, enough to earn the praise of your superior officers and eventually Red Leader himself. Or, you were assigned as his personal assistant to help with paperwork and meetings, but you were so good at handling his temper and attitude that he found himself surprised.
The latter of the two is my favorite, so I'll be working under that one.
Before you, Red Leader had been through several assistants. None of them lasted more than a month. By nature, he was a moody, temperamental man. The stress of the army and oncoming war only made that worse. He saw those previous assistants as nuisances, only getting in his way. He would yell at them, berate them, drive them to the brink until they beg Paul and Pat to transfer them.
When they assigned you to him, they expected the same thing to happen. The two even made bets on how long you'd last. On your first day, Red Leader was nasty to you. Gruff and rude. But... you bit back. That took him by surprise. Instead of taking the insult and shuffling out like a puppy with its tail between its legs, you pursed your lips and gave him a stern look and talked to him in a way that nobody dared to. He should've been angry. Should have screamed at you, discharged you from the army in a heartbeat.
Instead, he found that he quite enjoyed it. He enjoyed your spitfire. Not that he'd let you know. He only gave you a noncommittal hum and dismissed you with a wave of his hand. But... he kept you around. Even found excuses for you to come into his office more than necessary. His penchant for teasing came back full force. He'd poke and prod, finding ways to make you react with that fire he so loved.
It takes a long time for him to finally make a move. Probably takes a near-death experience for him, or an injury to you for him to realize that he wants this. He wants a future with you.
At first, he may seem a little cold in public. Not to the degree that his father was - he promised himself that he would never be like his father. Simply a more... professional air about the entire thing. It was more out of anxiety than anything. He didn't want to make you a target, didn't want to cause you to get hurt. As his army grows more powerful and takes over more and more countries, he grows more comfortable with PDA. He knows that when he is the most powerful man in the world, he doesn't have to worry about anyone hurting you.
He would probably treat you more like a spouse than a girlfriend/boyfriend right off the bat. He's older now, thinking more about the future than the present. He already knows that he wants to be with you forever, so why go through the formalities and hassle of dating?
Always makes time for you whenever he can. If he's in a meeting with his generals or another world leader, he'll sneak text messages to you. Doesn't give a shit if he's caught. What are they going to do to him, Red Leader?
If he's cooped up in his office all day, his door is always open to you. Loves having you drop by unannounced to bring him food or coffee. He'll let you climb into his lap while he works, or sit behind him in his chair and cling to him. Even if you're just sitting in a separate chair nearby, working on your own stuff. He's happy.
If you want to continue being a soldier, or his assistant, he'll let you. But he's also perfectly happy to have you simply be his partner and not have a care in the world. You could sit all pretty in his quarters waiting for him to get off duty, or use the time to pursue your own hobbies and interests. As long as you're happy and cared for, it's okay with him.
Spoils you rotten. You're Red Leader's, so of course you only deserve the best things. Anything in the world you want, you only have to ask for it. It's yours. He would raze entire cities just to see you smile.
He does enjoy taking you out on dates. While also spending time with you, he sees it as a way to show you off to the world. Dressing you up in the finest clothes that he got you, the prettiest jewelry that he bought. Taking you to restaurants and operas where everyone can see you hanging on his arm. It makes him puff up with pride.
When the two of you are alone, he's so adoring. Loves snuggling. It's a struggle to convince him to let you out of bed in the mornings, he'll just be clinging to you. If you do somehow manage to escape his grasp, he'll catch you around the waist and drag you back to bed. Won't stop until Paul or Pat message him to get his ass out of bed. He always grumbles about how "it's my damn army, I should get to sleep in as long as I want".
Sometimes, at night, he has pains in his right shoulder, the side where he's burned and amputated. It can range from a dull ache to excruciating pain. On nights that it hurts too much to move, you'll scramble out of bed and get his medication from his nightstand, gently coaxing him to take it. You'll hold him and comfort him until the pain subsides and he falls back asleep.
He doesn't like to talk about it, really. It feels weird, letting anyone see this part of his life. Letting you see his vulnerability. Letting you see him.
But he does.
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cheolhub · 1 year
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FORGIVE ME? ⌇MIN YOONGI ࿐
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— PROMPT: in which yoongi needs you to forgive him for neglecting your sexual needs and saying things he didn’t mean. good thing he knows a perfect way to prove he’s sorry.
— PAIRING: yoongi x f!reader
— GENRE: hurt/comfort, established relationship, smut minors dni
— WORD COUNT: 2.87k
— WARNINGS: stress, overthinking, self-doubt, a bit angsty, yoongi being a bit careless w words— oral (f. receiving), pet names, praise, yoongi w long hair (🫣)(lmk if i missed anything)
— A. NOTE: long awaited… fun fact, this has been in my drafts since mid-july LOLOL anyways, hopefully you all enjoy <3
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yoongi likes to think that he is a good boyfriend. at the very least, it’s what you deserve. he spoils you, pampers you, and loves you to the moon and back. you are the best thing life has had to offer him. he makes sure you know, too– endless praise, expensive gifts (that you’ve told him to stop buying), and mind-blowing sex. you name it and he’ll provide it. 
but yoongi has been stressed as of late. you can see it in his one-worded responses. you can see it in his constant straight facial expression. you can see it in how he’s been shrugging off your touch. it’s not you, he’d promised, but it’s hard not to think otherwise when he avoids you like the plague. 
you decide to take matters into your hands, his stress causing your unwarranted panic and your lack of attention has you worried beyond belief. 
you crawl to the edge of your shared bed where he stands and you sit on your knees. “yoongi…” you mumble, hands pawing at his belt. “hi… i was just waiting for you to come home,”
and god, you look so fucking pretty to yoongi. your pretty hair, your pouty, plush lips, your gorgeous doe eyes– everything is just so perfect. even still, he can’t seem to find the drive to give you what you need. a good orgasm. especially not today. not on this no-good, very bad day where everything has managed to piss him off. 
and god, you look so fucking pretty to yoongi. your pretty hair, your pouty, plush lips, your gorgeous doe eyes– everything is just so perfect. even still, he can’t seem to find the drive to give you what you need. a good orgasm. especially not today. not on this no-good, very bad day where everything has managed to piss him off. 
“It’s late, Y/N,” he sighs, hand pushing a strand of hair out of your face. “go to bed.” you frown, ignoring his words. you attempt to unbuckle his belt, but his hand catches your wrist. “baby, i don’t–”
you grow frustrated as he protests, “why?!” you huff out. 
he’s losing his patience, the rest of the day catching up with him as he’s kept it cool and collected for the entirety of it. “lose the attitude, Y/N, i’m tired and i don’t have time for this.” 
“this?” you scoff referring to yourself. your heart swells in your chest in the worst possible way, hoping he didn’t truly mean that. “yoongi, you have time for everything else but you don’t have time for ‘this?’ don’t have time for me?”
he sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose, “listen, i don’t want to fight, okay? i just want to sleep,”
“can you just–”
“Y/N! i don’t want to talk to you right now, alright?” he snaps and he can’t even think about the harsh words before they tumble out of his mouth. “stop being a fucking brat for once in your life, and just go to sleep.”
your eyes widen, never hearing such a tone from him. you feel your heart climbing up your throat and you can’t tell what you’re more upset about– the fact that you were brutally rejected or the way he thought you were some spoiled brat. does he really not want you? did he really think you were that much of a brat? is he completely revolted by you that he can’t even talk to you?
your mind was going a million miles per second, new profound insecurities appearing. you slowly retreat, muttering a soft ‘night’ under your breath as you go under the covers and turn off the lamp, leaving a now remorseful yoongi to stand in the dark. 
maybe it wasn’t working, you think to yourself. maybe it was you, perhaps you were too needy for his liking? the endless maybe’s pour into your head. the maybe’s that defended yoongi’s odd behavior and the ones that pit him against you. you then begin to wonder why he was coming home so late every night, why he was in such a bad mood with you, and why he hasn’t touched you in over a week. was he avoiding you? cheating? 
you tend not to overthink these things because yoongi reassure you how much he loves you without you even asking for it, but it’s been so long since you’ve even had a conversation with him. maybe… it is over?
and while the tears roll down your face, yoongi lies on the other side regretfully. the look on your face had his insides twinged. he feels sick knowing that you lay next to him, dejected and heavy-hearted, probably overthinking his behavior towards you. he wants to say something, anything… but he can’t find the coherent words to make sure you know he loves you more than anything.
so, he promises to make it up to you tomorrow.
+
you slept horribly, your mind overrode by last night's encounter with your boyfriend. you had decided to ignore your mind for the day and focus on comforting yourself in hopes that you’d forget about his harsh tone and snippy words and that frustrated face that you hope you’d never see again.
you don’t even realize the time you’ve spent curled up in front of the tv in your living room till you hear the front door open. you turn your head in shock noticing yoongi standing there looking at you. 
you want so desperately to say something, but all you can think about is how he shot you down. so, you simply turn back to the tv, pretending to be focused on that instead. you are hyper-aware of yoongi’s every move, though. 
“hi, baby…” he mumbles, closing and locking the door before he walks to the couch you’re on. “what are you watching?” 
you barely react, muttering ‘a k-drama’ under your breath, and yoongi’s heart breaks realizing you’re still upset from yesterday. 
“you’re home early,” you state, voice devoid of any emotion. 
he nods, “wanted to see you,” 
“well…” you chuckle bitterly. “here i am, your bratty girlfriend. i suppose you still don’t want to talk to me?”
maybe it was immature, but it’s the only thing keeping you from sadly cowering away from him.
“baby…” he pouts. “i didn’t mean that, okay? i’m sorry.” he sits next to you, before continuing. “i know i’ve been neglecting you, i’ve just been so stressed. you know if it weren’t for you i’d live in the studio,”
“is that what you prefer?… to live in the studio?” you ask meekly as if you’re scared of his answer.
he shakes his head incessantly, hands cupping your face, “no, never. i love you so much, too much. i really didn’t mean to snap at you last night, my love.” he whispers.
your heart rate quickens, looking at him with wide, doe eyes. your lips part to say something, but he speaks before you have the chance to.
“i wanna prove how sorry i am…” he trails off. “can i prove it to you, sweet girl?” his tone, now, is sultry and seductive and you can’t help but feel excited.
wordlessly, you nod in acknowledgment, your panties dampening by the second. when he flashes his teeth at you, you can’t help but shudder, enamored by all of his gorgeous features. 
he leans in to kiss you, his soft lips molding with yours for the first time in what feels like years. you take your arms, wrapping them around his neck to pull him closer to you.
he pulls back, “left you all needy for me, didn’t i, baby?” he mutters against your pouty lips. 
“mhm,” you nod again, mindless and in a daze with how his kiss made you feel.
“yeah? m’ sorry, sweetheart, gonna take good care of you, alright?” his hands slide down your face and neck, and chest before residing on your lower stomach. “gonna make sure you know truly how sorry i am,”
“yoongi,” you whine prettily. “please, need you so bad,”
he hums, urgently diving back into your lips, catching you by surprise. you gasp when his hand reaches your clothed core allowing his tongue to easily glide into your mouth. 
the kiss grows desperate, your tongues dance, and your teeth clash with one another. both of you breathing harshly as it feels like you’re about to swallow each other. 
yoongi’s hand vanishes into your lacy panties, dainty, long fingers easily finding your untouched clit. you whine when his index and middle fingers rub soft, feathery touches into the bundle of nerves. 
“fuck,” you moan into his mouth, eyebrows furrowing at the light touch. “m-missed you,” you manage to say against his lips. 
his lips move away from yours, placing wet, open-mouthed kisses on your jaw and down your neck till he finds you sensitive, little pulse point. your eyes screwed shut, moaning out his name as he nips and sucks on the soft skin. his fingers increase in speed and your body naturally arches at the action. 
your hand makes its way to his head, fingers carding through his soft, long hair. you whine softly, grinding into his fingers. “more…” 
he tuts, shaking his head in your neck. “uh-uh, pretty girl, stay still for me,” he whispers, his hot breath fanning against the pretty mark he’s made. he removes his head and hands and watches your face contort at the loss of contact and listens to your whimpers for his fingers. “shhh, baby,” he mumbles, taking the ends of your shirt and pulling it over your head and tossing it to the side. the deed leaves you near naked, all that’s left are your black lace panties.
he hums at the sight of your tits with perched nipples, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth. you suddenly feel warm under his gaze closing your eyes and squirming as your cunt gushes again, further ruining the lacy material. 
“my gorgeous girl,” he breathes, hands finding purchase on your hips. your eyes open, following yoongi’s movements to see him kneeling in front of the couch between your legs. he presses a gentle kiss to your abdomen. his pecks trail down further and further till he reaches your covered mound. “missed this pussy more than you know.”
you feel your breath getting caught in your throat feeling his face so close to your soaked pussy. with a slight buck of your hips, you softly let out another whine, “yoongi, please… please do something, a-anything,” you plead, tears of need forming on your lash line. 
he smiles, beautifully much like he missed the way you beg for him, missed the way you got when you ached for his touch. 
he suddenly drags his tongue across your already-drenched underwear, soaking it further with his saliva. you gasp at the feeling, the warm muscle making its way up and down needily. “can taste you through your panties, baby,” he chuckles against you, the vibration making you squeak. 
“please…”
his cat-like eyes peek up at yours full of mischief before his hands trail down and pull your underwear off. he leans back so you have room to take them off, “lift up and get these off for me, sweetheart,” he says and you oblige quickly, slipping them off and throwing them near your shirt.
he inhales sharply when he’s met with your glistening core and your cute hole practically leaking arousal. he notices your squirming and he smiles again, “m’ sorry again, pretty baby, i’ll take care of you, yeah?” he hooks his arms under your knees and gives you a loving kiss on the inside of your thighs. “and make you feel good… can i do that?”
you nod heartily, chest filling with anticipation, “yes… yeah, please,” you sigh out. “make me feel good, need you to make me feel good, yoongi.”
with that, yoongi groans, nodding his head in compassion. scooting closer to you, he blows a cold breath to your swollen clit, basking in the way your entire body shivers at the feeling. his tongue then presses flat against your folds, the taste of your essence fuzzing his brain and causing blood to rush to his half-hard dick. 
you moan at the first contact, your hands slipping back into his now-messy locks. his tongue drags up and down your folds at an agonizing pace. you think he’s teasing till you hear his soft moan, “fuck, sweetheart… forgot how fuckin’ good you taste,” he murmurs against your sloppy core. “m’ gonna take my time with you, make you cum all over my mouth till you can’t take it anymore.”
at his words, you find yourself panting, your stomach filling with butterflies, and your head emptying of any rational thoughts. your eyes meet his again and you can’t help but whine at how pretty he looks in between your legs as he tongues at your cunt. 
“so pretty, baby, you’re so pretty– fuck!” you throw your head back with a tiny cry when his mouth wraps around your clit.
he hums, sending shockwaves through your body. his teeth graze against the sensitive bud before his tongue takes over, flicking over it at a pace that has you losing your goddamn mind. the arms he has hooked under your knees pull you towards him till there’s no gap between his face and your sweet sex.
you grip his hair tighter, letting a dry sob escape your throat. “y-yoongi! s-so good, so fucking good!” you manage to tell him, and yoongi beams. he squeezes the flesh of your thighs, fingertips gently dragging against your skin and you can’t help but feel warmer at the gesture. 
when he pulls off, his face dives deeper. his tongue now prodding at your sticky entrance and his nose bumping at your clit. the slight contact your clit gets from his bulb-like nose makes you arch your back again and push his head further into your cunt. you're almost sure he can’t breathe with the way he lets out a muffled, breathless moan into you, yet you can’t find the heart to stop when it feels fucking amazing.
you ease up a tiny bit before he laps up the everlasting cum that drips from your untouched hole. the lewd sound of his slurps and your wetness meeting his tongue almost make you feel embarrassed, but his pure desire in devouring you whole makes the feeling pass. 
it’s when he shoves his tongue in your hole as deep as he can when you scream. your thighs automatically move to cage his head in, nearly suffocating him in the process. he eats you out ravenously like he hadn’t eaten in days, and fuck, your pussy is the best thing on earth to him. 
“pussy was fuckin’ heaven-sent,” he moans against you again, his mouth moving aggressively once more. 
you, feeling an undeniable knot form in the fiery pit of your stomach, buck your hips into his face again. your cries and screams grow louder, mixing with the obscene sounds of his slurping as your grip on his hair is strong enough to rip from his scalp. he groans, but you pay him no mind, reveling in the sensations it sends through your on-edge body. you grind and grind, an obnoxious mantra of his name and curses belt from your mouth.
“yo-yoongiii! m’ so close, oh– fuck!” you mewl, eyes no longer on his gorgeous face as you’ve screwed them shut. “fuck, fuck, fuck! baby, d-don’t stop, please don’t stop!” your words drip with deprivation making him moan understandingly against you. 
you let out a squeak when it happens. your body convulses as the knot quickly unravels with yoongi still licking at your clenching hole, licking up all the viscid cum that you emit. your back arches as far as it can as you cry for him, and tears of overstimulation leak down your face. 
yoongi can’t help but ache himself at the sight of your gorgeous orgasm. your cute, contorted face with furrowed brows, your mouth ajar as the endless moans escape you, your twitching body making your perfect tits jiggle– it makes yoongi realize he’s taken you for granted. 
you finally come down a few minutes after your mind-blowing orgasm. with tears still looming at your lash line, you look at yoongi who’s untangling himself from your legs and rising to tower over your shaky, naked body. your eyes trail down from his body up to his face covered with a sheen layer of your arousal, ogling him hungrily.
your hand tugs at his shirt pulling him down to kiss you. you instantly shove your tongue into his mouth, offering the chance to taste yourself with a hint of his own taste. 
he parts a few seconds later, “you like the way you taste, pretty girl?” he whispers, hand cupping your warmed cheek. “i love it, you taste fuckin’ gorgeous,” he admits causing a soft and breathy moan to get caught in your throat. he smirks, arrogantly, “forgive me?”
“i forgive you…” you breathe, a cheeky smile on your face. “but you have to fuck me good, first.”
he gives you a toothy grin, ready to dive back into your lips before saying, “take me then, baby.”
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thatstonedwriter · 7 months
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Can't Sleep?
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
A/N: Gee, I wonder what inspired this one, def not all the all-nighters I'm pulling whaaaat?
Content; references to sleeping disorders, implied romantic relationships, angst, comfort, mentions of physical affection
Feat; Stolas, Fizzarolli, Loona, Blitzø
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
When you can't sleep...
Stolas will hold you while he reads or sings to you. If the issue persists, he'll use his grimoire to let you see the stars without leaving the comfort of your bed. If the insomnia episode turns into an all-nighter, you can bet he'll make y'all some cereal while you talk, or watch something. Stolas will do his best to stay up late with you (being an owl demon helps), but generally, he'll fall asleep before you. Let's you sleep in the day after. No pulling curtains or guilt tripping. He knows you need the rest. Stolas will check up on you periodically and bring you food/water if you can't get yourself out of bed. Expect lots of cuddles. I'm sure Stolas would read books on techniques to make it easier to fall asleep, what medications work best, and mental health resources so that he knows exactly how to help you in any way possible. It may seem overdramatic, but all of Stolas' fussing just means he's concerned and wants to do everything in his power to help you get the rest you need.
Fizzarolli decides to sit with you. He doesn't force you to speak or anything, but he's there if you want to. To start out, he'd likely hold your hand or lean his head on your shoulder. He's another who will end up falling asleep before you though. He tries to stay up, but he's just not built for it. Fizz doesn't know how (an is never allowed to) cook, so he'll order delivery from your favorite place. If it's too late to place an order, the best he can do is heat up leftovers or frozen food. Its the thought that counts. In the mornings, Fizz will encourage you to at least get out of bed, even if it's for a few minutes. He won't be pushy, but he knows it's important to get you awake and moving. If you're with Fizz and Ozzie, the latter will be in charge of cooking any meals. Ozzie would also try and help you get out of bed (likely by carrying you, but hey, it's something). Fizz knows it can be difficult to take care of yourself, and that's why he's so adamant about making sure you're okay.
Loona will stay up with you. If you're in your room she'd pull up some movie or TV show to have on in the background while y'all lay in bed. I think Loona would find it comforting to have her hair played with, so she'd try that with you. She can be surprisingly gentle, and you're one of the very few who can see that side of her. Unlike the first two, Loona won't sleep until she's sure you've dozed off first. Most of the time, Loona will make some simple meals so that y'all can snack together. She also knows that it's a bit easier to sleep with a full stomach. It's likely she also struggles with sleep, so more often than not, y'all stay up together. Sometimes Loona will ask to go on walks (not bc it's a hellhound thing). The quiet, cool air, the and the faint sounds of late night traffic echoing through the streets all create a surprisingly serene atmosphere, and by the time you're back home, you're ready to collapse in her arms. Of course, that was Loona's plan all along. You also end up sleeping through most of the day afterwards unless you've gotta get out of bed.
Blitzø will probably just keep you up. To be honest, he probably has sleep problems too. At this point, he's so used to pulling all-nighters that, at first, he doesn't think much of it when you have the same issue. But then he notices your lethargy, the bags under your eyes, and the way you doze off during the day. That's when he decides to take action. Dude practically forces you into a bed or on a couch. And of course, he provides lots of pillows and blankets and hops into bed with you, holding you close and turning on the TV. Blitzø isn't really one for talking about this kinda stuff, but if you need someone to listen, he's all ears. Be warned, dude probably snores and moves a lot in his sleep, so if you need your own space, he'll offer to sleep on the floor. Blitzø would probably try to distract you with jokes and stories, and really appreciates the late-night company, even if it's unfortunately caused by sleeping disorders. At least one good thing comes of it. Like Loona, Blitzø doesn't fall asleep until you do, and even then, he'll probably end up staying awake for another couple hours. He does find it easier to sleep when he has someone with him, though. Mornings after tend to involve a tired Blitzø clinging to you an begging not to get out of bed. Once he's there with you, it's hard to get him anywhere else.
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sionevo · 3 months
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OTASUNE DOODLE AND DRABLE FOR MY POOKIE
David found his gaze irresistibly drawn to the man sleeping soundly before him. It was evident that the man was pushing himself to the brink, straining his limits in an attempt to overcompensate for something that required no compensation at all. His eyebrows knitted together in a frown, the unfairness of the situation gnawing at him. Of all the people in the world, why should Hal be the one to be caught in such a predicament? He deserved a normal life, one filled with mundane joys and simple pleasures. A life that David, despite his deepest desires and most fervent wishes, knew he could not provide. It wasn’t fair.
With a slow, deliberate shake of his head, David allowed a heavy sigh to escape his lips. The weight of the world seemed to rest on his shoulders in that single moment, silence enveloping the room around him. As if he were embarking on one of his stealth missions once again, he began to tread lightly. His destination was Hal, who was engrossed in the slumber who over took him who knows how long ago.
With a gentleness that belied his rugged exterior, David reached out, his hands gliding over the laptop. His fingers brushed against the cold metal, slowly sliding it away from Hal's vicinity. With a soft click, the laptop shut, plunging the room into a hushed stillness. In a fluid motion, David leaned over, his hands closing around the edges of the chair. With a careful nudge, he began to scoot the chair out, creating enough space for him to maneuver. Hal's presence was still grounded in the chair, oblivious to the subtle changes happening around him.
Without a moment's hesitation, David bent down, his strong arms sweeping beneath Hal's slumped form. In one smooth, practiced motion, he scooped Hal into his arms, holding him close against his chest. Hal’s hands, once busy on the laptop keyboard, now hung limply by his side, swaying gently with each careful step David took. David began the short journey towards the bed, each step measured and precise. The world held its breath as he moved, the silence broken only by the soft rustle of fabric and the faint creaking of the floorboards under his weight.
With great care, David gently eased Hal down onto the soft bed. Hal stirred in his sleep, his face etched with a heaviness that suggested dreams filled with profound thoughts. David stood there, frozen in place, rooted to the spot in fear of inadvertently waking him up and disturbing his peaceful slumber. The soft mutterings that escaped Hal's lips were mumbled and unclear, adding to the mystery of his dream-infused utterances. As Hal shifted his body weight to one side, his front now facing David, the latter couldn't help but watch him with a sense of intense fascination.
David decided to linger a while longer, to be absolutely certain that Hal was deep in sleep before attempting to move away. Just as he was about to take a cautious step back, he was startled by a sudden movement. Hal, still caught in the throes of sleep, had reached out with a fast-moving hand. His fingers, cool from sleep yet filled with a sleepy strength, found David's hand and intertwined with his. The single word he uttered was a plea, a command, a request. "Stay," he murmured, his voice heavy with sleep and something undefinable. And in that moment, David knew he couldn't leave. He simply couldn't. No matter how much he wanted to protest to stay awake, to plan out the next day down to how many breaths to take, to make sure Hal stayed safe- he couldn’t leave in this moment.
Despite the fact that the plea, mumbled under the weight of sheer exhaustion and laced with the undertones of delusion, could very well be devoid of any significant meaning, David still found himself drawn to the idea of fulfilling it. His heart resonated with the request, subtly compelling him to take action, to bring some sort of resolution to this potentially inconsequential request.
In response to Hal's request, David found himself slowly maneuvering his hand to gently squeeze Hal's. "I'm here," he whispered softly, the words almost lost in the stillness of the room. The relief that washed over him was almost palpable as he watched a small, contented smile spread across Hal's face and David couldn’t help but slightly follow suit.
Carefully maneuvering his way over Hal’s slumbering form to claim the only free spot next to him on the compact sleeping surface, David had to exercise caution to make sure he did not inadvertently inflict any harm on his companion during the process. The moment David had managed to settle himself down as gently as possible, Hal’s sleeping body responded almost instinctively, flipping over to align with David’s position. His arms folded between the two of them in such a way that it was as if even in his sleep, his subconscious mind was aware enough to guide his actions, ensuring that his positioning was considerate and respectful, not overbearing or intrusive. It was a subtle testament to the deep-seated bond between them, one that often manifested itself in these small yet significant ways.
David couldn't help but take notice of it - the delicate manner in which Hal always ensured his comfort. It was the sweetest thing, really, the way Hal would go the extra mile, always going beyond what was expected to make sure David felt at ease in every possible way. This realization stirred something within David, and before he knew it, he found himself reaching out towards Hal. His hand, roughened and worn from years of hard work, stretched out and gently brushed Hal's cheek. His fingers, scarred and callused from a lifetime of experiences, danced their way over the smooth, soft skin of Hal's face, tracing the curvature of his features. Hal’s face wore such a gentle expression, an expression that drew David in and held him captive.
Unaware of the passing moments, he found himself gradually edging closer, instinctively seeking to eliminate the minuscule distance that separated them. His hand, as if acting on its own accord, reached out towards Hal's hand, which lay open and inviting. He was prepared to make minor adjustments, ensuring comfort for both of them. He had never really paid attention to how perfectly their hands seemed to intertwine, as if they were two pieces of a puzzle that fit together flawlessly. He also noticed the softness, a contrast to the roughness he was accustomed to from his own palms.
David's hand began to move, gently caressing Hal's hand in a tender dance that was as light as a feather. His hand swayed back and forth across the sensitive surface of Hal's palm, eliciting a sense of warmth and intimacy. In that moment, David let his guard down, surrendering to the emotions that had been stirring within him.
His hand, initially used for the subtle dance, now firmly entwined with Hal's. He shifted slightly, and his free hand, previously idle, now found a purpose. It moved to lightly trace the back of Hal's hand, adding to the symphony of touch that was playing out between them.
As the minutes ticked by, David found himself losing track of time, lost in the intricate dance of touch and connection. The room was filled with a profound sense of peace and tranquility, a perfect encapsulation of the silent bond shared between them. This could be their world, their reality. There was a chance.
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ask-sebastian · 9 months
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Nurturing Nosy
Sebastian woke early, shifting groggily under his blankets as he instinctively reached out to scratch Nosy. Though he had long since provided his niffler with his very own cosy nest, Nosy always seemed to find his way into Sebastian’s bed–usually nestled into his hair, and Sebastian had long since accepted it. Sebastian's sleepy murmurings turned into concerned rumbles when his hand met with nothing but cool bed linen. He sat up and blearily blinked around but found no trace of Nosy in sight. 
Even with as much chaos as the wee niffler caused, it wasn’t like Nosy to not be around in the morning, and Sebastian was immediately concerned. Had Nosy snuck out in the night and gotten in trouble? Sebastian briefly wondered if he may have tried to break into Will’s room again but dismissed it as unlikely. They were already on thin ice with Nosy's repeated shenanigans, so if Nosy had succeeded in sneaking into the prefect’s room, Sebastian was certain that Will would have made it known, despite the early hour.
Propelled by concern, Sebastian hopped out of bed and quickly crossed the room. He opened the door just enough to stick his head out into the corridor and listened intently. 
No irate shouting. No suspicious crashes. 
He sniffed the air.
Nothing burning.
Something was definitely not right. 
His mind flooded with possible scenarios as to why Nosy was missing, and each one worried him more than the last. Adrenaline quickly chased away the last vestiges of sleep, and Sebastian grabbed the robes draped over his sitting chair and hastily dressed–calling Nosy all the while but to no avail. It wasn’t until he opened his wardrobe to retrieve his scarf that he noticed a pile of emerald and silver pooled around a few jutting tufts of teal fur at the bottom.
“There you are,” Sebastian said with a rush of relief. “Are you playing hide and seek again?” He crouched down and smiled smugly. “Well, I’ve won this round.”
The pile rustled and Nosy’s little snout pushed out from under the scarf and gave a weak honk. Sebastian’s brow knit with concern, and he pushed the fabric aside to find Nosy, all watery eyes and low whines and quite obviously not in a good state. 
Sebastian made a deeply concerned noise in his throat, but he pushed past the initial panic at having no idea what to do for a sick niffler and did what seemed most logical: he fashioned his scarf into a sling and gently tucked Nosy in–murmuring that everything would be fine–and then bolted to Professor Howin’s office.
Instinct proved fruitful, and Howin sent him on his way with a list of everything he needed to nurse Nosy back to health.
Sebastian got it all and then some. 
When he finally bustled back into his dorm some time later, he was completely winded from his frantic comings and goings. He’d skived off class and spent the day zipping about all the neighbouring villages in the valley until he was well equipped with every magical creature healing potion he could find; he bought out Brood and Peck for every creature comfort and all the gourmet treats they had in stock; he’d even swung by the kitchens and sweet-talked the elves into a basket full of the niffler’s favourite sweets. 
Only the best for Nosy.
Worry still etched his forehead and churned his gut as Sebastian undid the makeshift sling and wrapped the scarf around Nosy to keep him warm. Nosy snuffled and honked softly, already looking somewhat improved from the first dose of potion the professor administered that morning.
Sebastian gave him a tickle on his belly and cradled him close as he pottered around his room, busying himself with organising everything so that he was ready the moment Nosy was in need of another dose, something to fill his tummy, or just some tender love and care. 
He stopped when he noticed a small pouch on his bedside table that was not there earlier and opened the note resting on top. 
“Will left some shiny treats for you, Nosy. Isn’t that nice?” Sebastian fumbled to open the pouch with one hand, but eventually was able to wriggle his fingers inside and retrieve a few shiny treats. He held them out in his palm; Nosy gave them a few tentative sniffs, then eagerly took them and stuffed them into his pouch for safe keeping.
Sebastian couldn’t help but smile. There was a sudden rush of emotion seeing a glimmer of Nosy’s usual self, and he felt compelled to say something after the emotional whirlwind of the day, though he was unsure if the words were said more to soothe Nosy or himself.
 “I hope you know that I am forever grateful for that day in the corridor when you were thrown into my arms. Unconventional though our meeting was, somehow I just knew you were a very special niffler.”
Nosy’s snout twitched with interest and he made another soft noise, and Sebastian chuckled as he retrieved a small, sweet pastry from the basket and held it out. Nosy squirmed excitedly as he took it in his little paws. 
“You are a comfort whenever I am in need, always find the very best treats and most amazing treasures, and bring life and joy to everyone in this castle. You are the best companion any wizard could hope for, and I shall do everything I can to take care of you now, just as you always take care of me.”  
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(art lovingly and generously provided by @lil-grem-draws)
---
(A very special post for a very special @kiwiplaetzchen. 🖤 Thank you for always bringing so much positivity and light to our lives. Never forget that you are a much beloved presence in the fandom and most valued friend.)
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amaretigris · 2 months
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The Sea Witch's Curse
Taglist: @luna2034 @notagreekgal28 @hopeisrising @mylittlemermaid221 @justagirlthatlovedtoread
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⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅
Ch. 5 | 2k | Angst & fluff
⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅
You woke to some rustling the next morning. You turned over from your stomach in bed to see Eric laying out a new pink dress for you on his desk. He noticed your movement, and smiled apologetically.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you. I just figured that you needed a new dress for the day," he said sheepishly.
A blush was spread across his cheeks and his eyes darted away from you.
"I'll leave you to go back to sleep if you'd like," he turned to leave.
"No," you squeaked out, your voice still raspy from sleep.
When Eric turned to you with a puzzled expression, you clarified.
"No, I don't need to sleep anymore. Thank you for the new dress. I certainly needed it. Where do you get these?"
You flung the covers off your body and swung your legs off the side of the bed.
Eric gulped, his eyes dancing up and down your form.
Static electricity from the bed made the material cling to your physique. Eric swore he saw your nipples hardening under the thin material in the cool air of his cabin. His eyes darted away from you.
"Sometimes we receive them in chests and items that we trade for on the islands. I always keep some handy in case we ever come across a woman in need," he cleared his throat.
"I suppose it worked out," he gave a soft smile.
His smile quickly dissipated when he saw your reaching for the hem of your slip. He immediately turned away from you.
You smirked. You weren't feeling very modest this morning. You brought the material up your torso and pulled it over your head and arms. You picked up the new one provided to you. You continued the conversation with Eric as you admired the shiny material.
"What do you use the gold for?"
It was a simple question, but it surprised Eric enough that he almost turned to look at you again. When he saw a flash of sunburnt flesh, he whipped his head back to face the wall.
"Erm, I use it on the islands. I pay for information about the sea witch," he stated flatly, scrubbing his palm across the back of his neck.
Why was he sweating? In all honesty, you wouldn't need a siren song to get any information you wanted out of him right now.
Slipping the smooth material over your breasts, you smiled. Eric was clever.
"Okay, you can turn around now," you signaled to him.
You watched him as he slowly turned to face you again. His breathing was heavier than normal. His eyes raked over your form again before they met yours.
You creased your brow, examining his expression. What was that emotion?
"That's wonderful," you spoke without missing a beat.
"My father is King Triton, and the sea witch, Ursula, is his estranged sister. I know a little about her, but my father never let me learn too much. I'm sure whatever information you have will be just as valuable," you smiled.
Eric's jaw practically dropped to the floor.
"You're one of King Triton's daughters?"
You nodded your head.
"Yes."
Eric studied you for a beat.
"Doesn't that make you a princess?"
You looked down at your dress, admiring the frills on it.
"I suppose it does. I never felt like much of a princess though; especially not after my mother was killed. I only felt like a prisoner down there," you sighed.
Smoothing your dress out, you met Eric's gaze again. His expression had shifted to something sad.
"I know the feeling," he breathed.
"Are you hungry? We have biscuits for breakfast if you want any," he smiled.
You enthusiastically nodded, stepping towards him.
"What are biscuits?"
You asked excitedly as you followed him out the door.
⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅
Back in Eric's quarters, you polished off three biscuits and two glasses of water at the table. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. Eric had even let you try a glass of something called milk. It was different, but you liked it. He had eaten a couple biscuits as well. You looked up to find Eric's eyes on you.
"So the sea witch, you said her name is Ursula? She's your evil aunt?"
You huffed a breath.
"I suppose so. We - my sisters and I - were forbidden from ever reaching out to her. I hid it from my father. Now I know why it was forbidden in the first place," you sighed.
Eric leaned in a little closer to you.
"Do you regret it?"
The question made your skin erupt with goosebumps. You looked up pensively. Did you regret going to her?
"I suppose I should," you fixed your eyes back on Eric's bright blue ones.
"But honestly, no. I never wanted this. I never had any interest in exploring the human world. Now that I'm here, however, I realize how much life I was missing out on," you admitted.
Eric nodded his head, looking back down at his plate.
"I feel like I'm the closest I've ever been to finding information about my mom's death," you added with a shrug.
Eric's eyes connected with yours again.
"We can find out who is responsible, (Y/N). I can do that much for you," Eric tried to give you a soft smile.
You believed him. You couldn't help but notice a small crater in his cheek. Bringing your finger up to it, you heard a sharp intake of breath. Smiling at him, you rubbed your finger across his cheek, and let it dip down into the crater.
"They're called dimples," he blushed.
You kept your hand on his face. His skin was so soft.
"They're beautiful," you whispered, meeting his eyes again.
Eric reached up to grab your hand. The two of you stayed like that for a moment, lost in each other's gaze.
Suddenly, Grimsby burst through the door.
"Eric! There's-."
Eric dropped your hand and the two of you shot away from each other. Grimsby's eyes bounced between you knowingly.
"Sorry to interrupt, captain. A ship has come up on our starboard side with cannons," the man conveyed with urgency.
Eric bolted from his chair, rushing out to the deck. You ran out of his quarters, but stayed on the higher deck, gripping onto the railing.
Grimsby was right. A not-so-friendly looking ship had gained on the Cassiopeia with cannons aimed.
You looked down to see Eric barking orders at his men, and running up on the opposite side of the ship to take the helm. He was desperately trying to steer the ship to safety when a loud voice sliced through the air.
"Eric! How dare ye show your ship 'round these parts again. I swore that if I saw ye again, I'd kill the lot of ya'," the voice shouted.
You heard Eric yelling expletives. It all happened so fast, and before you fully realized what was happening, men swinging from ropes landed on the ship. Four men landed on the main deck, drawing their swords, and fighting with Eric's crew. Your grip on the railing tightened.
"(Y/N)!" Your eyes shot back to Eric. "Lock yourself in my quarters! Now! " Eric shouted.
It was too late.
A burly, greasy looking man landed on the deck directly behind you, between you and the door.
Spinning and gasping at the sight of him, you held your hands up in an attempt to protect yourself. The man harshly grabbed your arm, and easily threw you to the ground. Looking up at him from the deck, you watched him approach you. You waited until he was standing directly over you. Hurling your foot up into his crotch, you tried to scramble away. You'd always heard that human men had a sensitive spot between their legs. You were happy that, for once, the stories were true. The man faltered with a yelp, but you ran right into another henchman on the stairs. This man wore a hat with feathers on it, and he grabbed your arm, holding the blade of his sword to your throat.
"No! Stop!" You heard Eric yell.
Your eyes frantically searched for him. He was at the bottom of the stairs. He had gotten much closer to you than you realized during the attack.
The smelly man peered at Eric with a smirk.
"Oi, what's this lass worth to ya?" He sneered.
"Please, take anything you want. I have gold. I have pearls in my chambers. You can have it all. Just please don't hurt her," Eric begged.
"Oh yeah?" The man holding the blade to your throat surveyed the ship.
"What if we want to take turns with her? Beauties like this are hard to come by, ya see," he licked his lips and briefly released your arm to yank your hair back.
He pushed the blade deep enough into your neck to draw a line of blood.
You gasped.
Eric's eyes took on a murderous glint.
"None of you will fucking touch her," he growled.
"Ye seem so sure if it, lad," the man loudly chuckled.
A loud bang rang out in the air.
The man's grip on your hair suddenly loosened, and you flung yourself backwards, away from him and the blade. Your back hit the wood paneling beside the captain's quarters.
The man with the feathery hat slowly lowered his sword, and held the hand that had gripped your hair to his chest. When he brought it up to examine it, it was smeared with blood.
Horrified at the sight before you, you scrambled back into Eric's chambers - slamming the door, and locking it behind you. Your back slid down the wall beside the door. You sunk to the floor in tears, putting your hand to your neck, and finding more blood. You sobbed uncontrollably. You heard the constant clanging of swords outside. You were shaking and pressing your hand to your neck when the noise finally stopped. Hearing the door rattle, you scurried away from it. It wasn't until Eric burst through the door that you relaxed a fraction.
He immediately dropped the gun he'd been holding, and rushed to his knees before you. His hands peeled yours away from your neck.
"It's okay, (Y/N), it's okay. Let me see."
He was trying to help, but he still spoke in an alarmed tone.
You dropped your hands and let him look at your neck.
Eric banged his fist down on the floor beside you and yelled, "Fuck," making you jolt. "I let that bastard cut you deeper than he should have."
Sensing the panic in Eric's tone, you tried to slow down your breathing. Your anxiety was not helping him.
Grabbing his forearm, you waited for Eric's gaze to drift from your hand back to your eyes. You began humming a melody. It was the same soothing melody you had hummed for the boy in the market. Watching the relaxation seep into Eric's system made you feel more at ease as well.
You hummed it for a minute longer than you had for the boy. You wanted to alleviate all of his stress from the situation. By the time you finished, Eric's features were soft again. He had been holding one hand up to your neck while you hummed, no doubt feeling the vibrations. You hoped this would only heighten the effect of the siren song.
When he spoke again, Eric's tone was much more calm and concise.
"(Y/N), that's what you hummed to the boy on the island. It's not a lullaby, is it?"
You smiled and shook your head.
"No. It's my siren song," you admitted.
Eric's free hand came up to your cheek. You found yourself leaning into his touch.
"Thank you for sharing it with me," he whispered, letting his thumb swipe a stripe across your cheek.
Eric's eyes moved back down to your neck.
"You will be fine. The cut is superficial, and the bleeding has mostly stopped because you were applying pressure. I was just upset that that disgusting pirate drew blood from you," Eric shook his head.
You reached up to settle your hand over his on your cheek.
"It's okay. It scared me, but I'm alright. Are you hurt?"
You suddenly thought to ask, planting both of your palms on Eric's chest. You were examining his torso for any blood or injuries when he chuckled.
"No, I'm not. As long as you're alright, I'm alright," he flashed those adorable dimples.
18 notes · View notes
pennylanefics · 1 year
Text
Captured - Pirate!Jake Kiszka
a/n: okay…super nervous posting this bc i haven’t posted smut in a year or so, but here we are :) i really wanted to share this, so why not?
warnings: smut, 18+, NO MINORS (please do not interact, like, comment, reblog, if you are under 18. i will block you if you don’t have your age/indication that you are not a minor in your bio or on your blog)
word count: ~ 5.2k
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You were woken up by loud bangs and shoes clambering on the nice wooden floors of your home. Sitting up in bed, the covers fall onto your lap and you scramble into the corner of the wall where your bed sits.
Voices echo through the halls, doors being slammed open, until finally, yours swings open and a couple men stumble in. One was very grimy looking, dirt covering his face and hair, ratty and torn clothing adorning his body.
The other man was…quite beautiful. He had long hair, but it appeared to be managed very well. His clothes, although slightly torn, were much more taken care of than the other guys. And he had this beautiful silver necklace resting against his exposed chest. A small, fuzzy mustache sits above his lip, accentuating them even more.
“You’re coming with us, sweetheart!” Grimy man says, grabbing your arm and picking you up. The beautiful man digs through your closet and grabs a couple clothing items, shoving them in a bag. They whisk you out of the room and out of your house, but not before putting a blindfold around your eyes.
“Where are you taking me?” You ask no one in particular. But no one answers. You can clearly hear the waves surrounding you and the sounds of wooden planks beneath your feet. They continued dragging you until you come to a stop.
The blindfold is ripped off and you are shoved into a room with a bed and a candle on the bedside table. Nothing else. The bag your clothes were shoved into is also thrusted into the room, and then, you are left alone as the man shuts the door very loudly.
You cry yourself to sleep that night, trying to cover yourself with the thin blanket provided. But it wasn’t enough. You wanted your actual bed and not this junk of a jail cell.
The following morning, your breakfast was dropped off by the same scummy man from last night. An apple and a piece of bread. However, you ate the entirety of both, despite wanting whatever breakfast your mother was cooking, if she was still at home.
Around midday, the beautiful man from last night comes into your room, with a rope in his hands.
“Turn around,” he says, speaking to you for the first time. You can’t help the way your heart swoons at his sweet sounding voice. It perfectly fit his appearance, but you do as he says.
He, somewhat roughly, ties the rope around your wrists behind your back. You feel the cool metal of his rings brush against your skin, and it sends your heart into a frenzy for some reason.
He takes ahold of your forearm and drags you out of the room and through the halls of the ship. He reaches a door that reads “Captain’s Quarters” and steps inside with you, closing the door behind him.
“Ah, Miss (Y/L/N). So nice to finally see you in the daylight,” a man with a thick beard says, sitting behind a desk maps covering the top. He looks at your nightgown and sighs. “Where are her actual daytime clothes, gentlemen?”
The grimy guy, standing in the corner, stutters a response.
“J-Jake was the one to get her, ask him,” he pushes off onto the man you now know as Jake.
“You told me to bring her here as quick as possible. This is what she was dressed in, Captain.”
“Well allow her some fuckin’ modesty! Take her back and let her get dressed.” Jake sighs and grabs your arm once more and walks back out of the room.
He undoes the tie and lets you walk back into your room, standing guard at the door so no one decides to make a little trip and walk in. Once you dress in your favorite pale blue dress, you knock on the other side of the door to let Jake know you were ready.
He opens the door and he stops in his tracks. You had also brushed your hair with a random comb you found in the drawer of the bedside table, probably not a good idea, but who cares at this point?
Jake gulps as he gets a good look at all of you, his eyes softening as he sees your gentle smile.
“Go ahead,” you say, turning around with your wrists behind your back. Jake’s fingers dance along the red marks that were already present from the previous tie, sending a shiver up your spine.
“It’s alright. I won’t tie your hands. Just keep them behind your back and I’ll stay close so they don’t see,” he replies. You turn back around and smirk.
“Too bad because I’m quite into people tying me up,” you whisper, shoving past Jake and in the direction of the office again. Jake stands there, stunned, for a moment, but eventually gets back and comes up right behind you.
“Ah, good,” the Captain says when you arrive back. “Now, you have something we want, Miss (Y/L/N). Your father is a rich merchant, isn’t he?”
“Yes,” you say firmly, trying to hide your fear.
“He has a hoard of wealth stored somewhere and we want that hoard. Now, taking him would be no fun, he wouldn’t tell us. But his daughter? Oh, we know some ways to get information out of people.”
You gulp and step back just a little, your back colliding with Jake’s firm chest.
“We won’t be too mean, darling. But we want you to help us. And if you don’t, well, then we may have to resort to harsher techniques.” You nod, your heart pounding in his chest.
“What do you want to know?” The captain looks around at his men, before picking up his quill and writing something down.
“I will talk with my crew, make a list, and then come get you tomorrow. I’ll let you settle in today, explore the ship, get used to this.” Internally, you are rolling your eyes, thanking him for being so thoughtful.
But on the outside, you just nod and cast your eyes down. Jake gently grabs your arm and brings you out of the room, backwards, and guides you back to your room.
“Lunch will be in two hours,” he says, looking at his pocketwatch. “I’ll bring it to you.”
“Thank you, Jake,” you quickly get out before he can leave the room. He just offers a small smile before walking out and shutting the door. You fall onto your bed, leaning up to look out the porthole.
The clear blue skyline mixed with the dark blue of the distant ocean, a sight you would have usually found beautiful, but in this moment, you despised it.
Just as promised, two hours later, Jake returned with both yours and his lunches.
“What are you-” you are cut off as he takes a seat on the floor in front of your bed.
“I wanted to have my lunch with you. Keep you company.” He takes a bite of what appeared to be ham and looks to you. You are dumbfounded, but look down at your plate.
“Why’s that? Thought you were supposed to be a tough, weathered pirate, eh?” He chuckles, taking a sip of his water.
“I am most of the time. But when my Captain tells us to capture a beauty of a woman, I find it hard to be punishable to her.”
“Oh, how often does that happen?” You question. Jake shakes his head and casts his eyes down, almost in…embarassment? Disappointment?
“Never before. It’s the first capturing I’ve been apart of, and to be fair, I’m not a huge fan. It really hurt hearing your screams and pleas for us to not take you. I wanted to call it off, but it wasn’t my position to do so.”
“Well, you should maybe tell your captain that I’m not that fond of being here either. And how considerate was that of him to allow me the day to myself?” Jake laughs at your sarcasm and rips a piece of bread off.
“I was the one to do that, actually. Before I brought you in, I mentioned how you may not be so easy to give up information this quick. Let you settle in and calm down before we get to that.”
“Oh, so it was you who was considerate?” Jake shrugs and gazes into your eyes. An emotion hides behind them, one you can’t read.
“Like I said, I saw how distraught you were, I know you just needed some time.” He reaches over to grab your hand, which catches your attention. “Everyone deserves care and respect, even if your father is a selfish wealth-hoarder.”
The dig at your father pains your heart and makes you drop his hand.
“So you’re okay with the whole thing then? After you just told me you feel bad for capturing me and wanted to call it off?”
“I mean, I know there are other ways to get your father’s money and taking his daughter isn’t the best way, but yes, I do think your father hoards wealth from the public!” Jake suddenly gets defensive, and you want to be mad, but you sigh softly and lean against your bed, staring into your lap.
“It is true,” you whisper. Jake’s head whips towards you in surprise. “As much as I hate to think about it and admit it, he does hoard it.”
“So, you are going to cooperate with us?” With a moment of thinking, you nod, still not meeting his eyes.
“I will. If you guys don’t torture me. I’ll give you any information you want, but please, don’t harm myself, my dad, or my family.”
“I will let Captain Farkley know.” You can’t help the giggle that escapes your throat.
“Farkley?” You repeat. Jake laughs along, knowing that was going to be your reaction.
“Yeah, not very much of a hardcore name is it.”
“Not really. But neither is Jake.” Jake’s eyes soften and you finish up your food.
“Would you want to take a walk around the deck?” He asks, grabbing both of your plates.
“I would love to.”
Jake shows you around the ship, showing you his duties of hoisting the back sails and looking out the right side of the ship for any others incoming. One thing you noticed about him was the way he brushed his hair out of his face from the wind.
It was a simple gesture that you found adorable. Plus, the way his unbuttoned, ratty shirt blew open from the wind, you were finding it hard to not stare at his chest.
When dinner comes around, Jake brings you your plate, but seeing as dinners are usually spent as a crew, he is unable to sit with you. However, after everyone has gone to sleep and the ship has settled for the night, anchored down for the time being, he appears in front of your door.
You were having trouble falling asleep, but a soft knock catches your attention. Getting up, you carefully open it and find Jake standing there. You let him in, a little confused, but when he smiles at you, all worry washes away.
“Sorry I couldn’t eat dinner with you. They would’ve thought it was strange I was missing.”
“Thats alright. You’re not obligated to spend time with me.” You take a seat on the edge of your bed, and Jake follows suit.
“I’m not obligated to, but I want to. I enjoy your company.”
“You do?” Jake nods and grabs your hand.
“What are you still doing up? Can’t sleep?” He wonders.
“Yeah. I’m still not used to the rocking of the ship yet, so it’s hard for me to fall asleep.”
“Why don’t I help you?” He offers. You stand and crawl into bed, Jake following after he removes his shirt, to lay on the left side, so that you don’t fall off the bed.
He pulls you into his chest, your heart racing as you feel his soft skin against your hand and cheek. His fingertips trail up and down your back, and suddenly, you are much more awake. Focusing on his touch wasn’t helping you get to sleep at all.
“Get some rest, okay? I know Captain is wanting to interrogate you tomorrow, so be prepared.” You nod against him and close your eyes, but alas, you find sleep much harder with a handsome man laying bare-chested beside you.
Just as predicted, the next day, Captain Farkley brought you into his quarters, with just you and Jake, and asked you questions regarding your father’s wealth. As much as you loved your father, you knew he had a huge vault somewhere that held precious items that could be sold to give people money and even food.
And that’s exactly what they were after. Although you didn’t exactly know where it was, you were willing to help them gain information. Farkley presented you with papers that his men stole from your father’s office in your home as well, so you promised to take them back and study them, then bring him a list of information that could possibly help.
As your weeks on the ship go by, you were getting used to this life. Sure, it wasn’t luxurious, most of the days you smelled so bad you weren’t sure how Jake managed to be around you, but you were coming to be okay with all of this.
You and Jake spent most of your days together. He was the only one who was not creepy towards you, and he even knocked some sense into others for disrespecting you. And every night, Jake promised to be by your side, cuddled up with you, helping you fall asleep.
However, one night, you couldn’t sleep for another reason.
Jake, as usual, walks into your room, finding you sitting up, staring out the window, waiting for him to show up.
“Everything okay?” Jake asks, worry evident in his voice.
“I’m fine. But uh…I think I need to be alone tonight,” you tell him.
“Oh,” his expression falls, thinking he did something wrong. “May I ask if you are okay?” His voice is filled with concern and care, and it sends shivers up your spine, not helping your mood.
“I’m feeling a little…horny tonight and just need to…you know…” your voice trails off. Jake’s eyebrows raise in curiosity and he smirks.
“Or…I could help you?” He offers. You swallow nervously, scared to tell him that you would love for him to do that, but also wanting to protect your ego.
You couldn’t help the naughty thoughts that ran through your mind when he pressed his front to your backside in the middle of the night. Or the way he licked his lips, you couldn’t get the image of him doing so after going down on you.
Because of this, during the days when Jake was busy taking care of his duties and whatnot, you rubbed one out to the thought of him. But now, with him sitting mere inches from you, you had no idea what to do or say.
“Um, I-I mean, you-”
“I’m sorry if that was forward, but to be fair, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. Someone so beautiful in a simple blue dress has to be beautiful underneath it all, right?” His words send your mind into a frenzy, and you clench your thighs together.
He notices this immediately and smirks.
“I’d say you’ve also thought about me in this way?” Sighing, you finally nod in agreement. He hums happily and reaches up to brush a strand of hair away from your face. “Tell me what you’ve thought about.”
You gasp in surprise when he leans forward and attaches his lips to your neck, not prepared for that whatsoever.
“I’ve-I’ve thought of, um, you…”
“It’s alright, honey. Don’t be embarrassed,” he whispers against your skin. Gulping, you continue.
“I’ve thought about your head between my thighs, eating me out like it’s your last meal,” you say through short breaths. Jake chuckles against your skin as he continues kissing it.
“Oh yeah? You bet I could eat you out the best you’ve ever had?”
“Try the only,” you mention. Jake pauses and pulls away in shock.
“Really?”
“Well yeah. Living a somewhat sheltered life doesn’t allow me to go out and have the fun I want,” you tell him. “But, that only means you have no one else to compete with.” This puts a smile back on his lips and he finally presses his to yours in a needy yet sweet kiss.
“Then I’ll give you the best orgasm you’ve ever had, darling.” His facial hair scratches against your face as he moves to kiss along your cheek and back down to your neck. “But we have to be quiet. You can hear fuckin’ everything through this ship.” You nod and let out a soft sigh, thinking that would be fine.
Jake’s hands tug at the buttons on the front of your nightgown, and you help him undo them before slipping it off your arms and throwing it to the floor.
“Wow,” Jake pauses, his eyes roaming all over your naked body. You want to hide, but the look in his shining brown eyes says otherwise. “Just as beautiful as I imagined. Maybe even more.”
Heat rises to your cheeks and you pull him back in for another steamy kiss.
“Take your pants off, Jake. I wanna see you too.” He laughs and fumbles with the button for a bit, but he is finally able to get it undone. He slides them down his legs and kicks them off, but does one thing before laying with you.
He quickly locks the door and turns back around. Your eyes fall to his hardening cock, twitching with excitement. You bite your lip and wave him over. However, he drops to his knees in front of your bed and guides you to sit on the edge.
He throws your legs over his shoulders, face to face with your pussy. He teases you by placing a few open-mouthed kisses along your inner thighs.
“You are so wet, pretty girl. Is this all because of me?”
“Yes Jakey. All because of you and all for you.” He groans at both the nickname and your response to his question, wanting to devour you already.
“I bet you taste so good,” he whispers to himself, finally lowering his head and placing his tongue flat against you.
A loud gasp leaves your lungs, and you throw a hand over your mouth, remembering his rule to be quiet.
“Mmm, I was right,” he mumbles into your dripping cunt, eyes closing as he savors you.
His arms wrap around your legs to keep you against him, and one of your hands tangles in his hair to keep him pressed against you.
“That feels so good, Jakey,” you continue with the nickname, realizing the reaction it gets out of him.
“Yeah?” He moans, swallowing you before pulling back some to spread your lips with his fingers. He kitten licks your clit with his tongue, your back arching off the bed because of the feeling.
“God yes!” You quietly whimper, pushing your hips onto Jake’s face, needing more friction.
“Doing so good at staying quiet for me, baby,” he praises. You tug at his hair to egg him on and continue, which he does.
His tongue switches between lapping at your hole and circling your clit. He also sucks your clit into his mouth, and each time, you find it harder and harder to keep your moans in. Your free hand comes up to play with your breast, your fingers tweaking your nipple, loving the feeling flowing through you in this moment.
“Jake please,” you beg.
“Please what?” He asks, not stopping his actions.
“Need more,” you breathe out. He shakes his head against you.
“Wanna make you cum with just my mouth. I know you can, honey. Just focus on my tongue.” So, you do as he says and try to clear your mind except for the part that was telling you your fantasies were coming true.
Jake was here, between your legs, eating you like there was no tomorrow. He’s groaning and moaning against you, he’s enjoy this just as much as you are. Sucking your clit into his mouth again, he rubs his tongue against it, and you are done for.
“Jake, I’m so close,” you whisper, grasping his hair hard. He does’t mind one bit.
“Cum for me, darlin’. I want you to cum in my mouth,” he mumbles, moving down to your hole, waiting for you to release even more for him.
“Fuck, Jake, keep doing that!” He continues to fuck his tongue into your hole, humming while doing so, creating vibrations through your body. Soon enough, your orgasm crashes over you, your back arching off the bed and your hips grinding into Jake’s face, who happily laps up every single drop he’s able to.
He’s moaning himself, extremely turned on by everything, as he removes his mouth and gazes up at you through your legs. Your chest was still heaving up and down, and Jake takes the sight of your tits in.
He takes this opportunity to stand up and wrap his lips around your nipple. He pauses and stares up at you, and you groan at the sight of him.
His hair was a disheveled mess and his entire mouth and chin was covered in your arousal. But he wore a proud smile on his face.
“You are so damn beautiful,” he whispers, kissing you. Tasting yourself, you shove your tongue into his mouth to deepen the kiss. Your hand slithers down between your bodies and you grab his cock, a shocked gasp escaping his mouth.
“Wanna make you feel good too, Jakey,” you smile, gaining some energy to push him to lay down on your bed. You crawl onto his body and sit with your legs straddling his hips. You stroke him a few times, giving him a nice show of running your other hand up and down your body, teasing your breast and down to your clit.
You move once more to kneel next to him. You grasp the base of his cock and lean down, wrapping your lips around his tip. He sucks in a breath and closes his eyes for a moment, trying hard to remember his own rule.
He watches you work him for a few seconds, your mouth taking almost all of him, before he pushes you away.
“I’m not gonna last long and honestly I wanna cum in you instead of your mouth,” he says, eyes beginning to drop closed. You smirk and kiss him once more, straddling his hips while not breaking the heated kiss.
He reaches to grab his throbbing cock and guides it through your folds, collecting your wetness for a second or two.
“Tell me if it gets too much, okay honey?” He says, his other hand cupping your chin to make you look in his eyes. You nod, but that’s not enough for him. “I’m serious, (Y/N).”
He hasn’t used your first name before, only referring to you as Miss (Y/L/N), or the pet names he’s given you, and now, with this very intimate moment being the time he does, it made your heart swell.
“I will tell you if it does, Jake.” He hums and finally pushes his cock into you. Your mouth drops open and your eyes roll to the back of your head.
“Oh my god,” you moan, lowering yourself fully onto him, his thick cock twitching inside of you already. “Don’t wanna move just yet.”
“You’re so tight, holy shit,” he breathes out, trying to calm himself. You clench around him involuntarily and he whimpers, a shiver running through his body.
Jake’s hands fall to your hips and he stares up at you.
“You okay?” He asks.
“Yeah. I just want to feel you for a moment.”
“It’s alright, darling. It, fuck,” he pauses as you clench him again, but this time on purpose, “it feels good.”
After a few more seconds, you finally start to move, bouncing up and down on him, your hands steadying yourself on his chest. Your soft moans and breaths fill the room, Jake watching your tits bounce with every movement.
“You-you’re so beautiful,” he breathes out, mouth agape in awe of you. “The sounds you make, the faces you make, fuck, the way you feel around me.” You giggle and lean down to capture his lips.
Jake’s hips start to pick up a similar rhythm, snapping up into yours. This causes you to fall into his chest, allowing him to take control. His arms wrap around your body as you take all of him.
“Fuck, Jakey,” you whimper, nuzzling your face in his sweaty neck. His hair starts to stick to his face due to the temperature of the room, and your activities.
“I love when you call me that.” A smirk crosses your lips and you sit up just a little. Your hands brush the hair from his face and you lean above him.
“Jakey,” you purr, leaning forward so your tits meet his face. Immediately, his lips attach to the swell of your breast, sucking a hickey into your skin. “You make me feel so fucking good, Jakey.”
“Fucking shit!” He tries to keep quiet, but it’s no use, so you slap your hand over his mouth, going back to your previous position with your face in his shoulder.
“You close, baby?” You whisper, biting the shell of his ear, feeling his silver earring brush against your lip.
“Y-yes, honey, god, keep doing that!” You bring his hand to toy with your clit, feeling your second orgasm approach.
You bite into his shoulder to muffle your noises, Jake’s speed starting to falter as he nears his own high.
“Cum in me, Jakey,” you whimper the exact moment you reach your orgasm, your voice wavering because of it. His face scrunches up in pleasure, mouth slightly agape as he stills inside of you, his cock twitching as he releases his load.
You crash into him, all of your weight falling on him, though not that he cared. Both of you attempt to catch your breath, bliss running through your bodies, and basking in the glow of sex.
You raise your head slowly, still coming down from your intense orgasm, and find Jake in the same state. His eyes were half-lidded, breaths leaving his mouth. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, and once more taste you, as it was still prominent on his face.
“How many women have you bedded like that?” You ask, in half curiosity and half seriousness.
“One,” he replies. “Years ago, the only woman I loved.”
“Is that where you learned…what you did first?” You continue, heat creeping up your neck. Jake chuckles and nods, pinning a stray piece of sweaty hair behind your ear.
“Why are you getting shy on me, honey?” He teases. Your giggle causes you to once again clench around him, but with Jake being so sensitive from everything, his body jolts in response. You slowly lift yourself off of his length, whimpering at the lost feeling from him inside of you.
He watches a mixture of your cum and his drop onto his leg. Smirking, he swipes his finger through it, collecting it all, and raises his hand to your face. Gladly, you take his digit into your mouth, sucking every last drop from his skin.
You moan around his finger and Jake can feel himself become turned on again. Releasing his finger with a pop, you fall back beside him, curling into his side as he moves lower so that he can lay down with you.
“So, what happens when you and everyone else finds my father’s vault and everything is over?” You ask him after a few minutes of nothing. The feeling of his fingertips running up and down your bare back was enough to put you to sleep, but you had one thing on your mind.
“Either you go back home and explain to your father why you had to rat him out, or you find a new life somewhere else.”
“He’ll most likely disown me for this.”
“Maybe not, if you tell him you did it for his and everyone else’s safety.” Nodding against his shoulder, you trail your finger around his bare chest.
“You could always run away with me,” he whispers. This shocks you, so much that you don’t say a word or move for a minute or so. But when you do, you sit up and stare down at him.
“What?” He smiles and caresses your cheek.
“I don’t want to live without you, (Y/N). These past few weeks have been the best time I have spent on this ship. I have really fallen for you and I don’t want you to leave.”
Unfortunately for Jake, once his captain and crew had found your father’s vault, they had no use for you anymore, and returned you back, unharmed, to your family. The days following your return were very emotional, and you were happy to be safe with them, and the only damage was your father’s wealth, which he had enough of.
About a week after your return, you are walking along the shoreline of the port, watching as merchant ships come and go, when a shadow appears over you.
“What’s a beautiful lady like you doing out here by herself?” A familiar voice rings in your ears. Immediately, you perk up and stand, finding Jake, his usual black outfit, a brimmed hat sitting atop his head and his hair that cascaded around his shoulders, and his sword in his belt.
“Jakey,” you cheer, jumping into his arms. He laughs happily and holds you tight against him. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too, honey. But I’m here to stay.” Pulling back, you look at him confused.
“What do you mean?”
“I left Farkely and the Meridian. I realized I wanted nothing more than to be with you.”
“Wh-what? Are you serious? Jake why would you-”
“I love you, (Y/N). I wasn’t kidding when I said I fell for you. When you left, I was broken. And I couldn’t let the others know how I was feeling. I came to the conclusion that I wanted to be with you way more than I wanted to be on that ship. So, with your father’s money, I bought a house in the town so I could be close to you. And I got a job helping unload ships that come through the docs.”
“Oh my god, really?” He nods. “Holy shit.” You fall into his arms again, tears pooling in your eyes.
“So, you’re happy, I assume?”
“I am. And I love you too, Jake. I just can’t believe you left the pirate’s life for me.”
“Well, a pirate’s life is not for me,” he says, playing on the well-known song that all pirates know and sing.
The both of you share a laugh before you cup his cheeks and kiss him, reslishing in the feeling that you missed for the past week.
“You want to come back to my new place? Break it in a little?” He asks, his eyebrows wiggling in a teasing and suggestive manner.
“Hell yeah. I missed your mouth on my pussy,” you whisper against his lips.
“Oh, you naughty thing.”
189 notes · View notes
blurscolours · 1 year
Text
The Devil And The Deep Blue Sea | Part Eleven
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Masterlist
Summary: An attack on Arthur’s imprisoned brother Orm leaves him with no choice but to rely upon you, a friend made due to unfortunate circumstances nearly a decade ago, to provide safe haven while he restores peace to Atlantis. Suddenly tasked with sheltering a sullen former king results in a very different summer vacation than you had originally envisioned, but changes both of your lives forever.
Warnings: Menstruation, Discussion of Societal Expectations of Women, Orm is Surprisingly a Feminist, Mature/Explicit Themes [manual stimulation - f receiving, unprotected sex, vaginal penetration, multiple orgasms, hormone related sensitivity] - 18+ only.
Word Count: 2282
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It happened every month, consistent and predictable, and yet the onset somehow managed to bewilder you time after time. As your eyes opened that morning you immediately understood why your lower back hurt. You swore softly under you breath as you could feel the blood between your legs and tried to slide out of the unprotected sheets.
He lifted his head at your expletive, eyes immediately focused and prepared for the worst. He blinked as he caught a glimpse of the blood on your sleep shorts as you managed to get to your feet.
“You’re hurt.” He sat up quickly.
You blinked and then shook your head. “Oh, no that’s normal…I just totally forgot it was time for it to happen. I’ll be right back.” You felt him relax under your lips as you pressed a kiss to his forehead and went to the bathroom to grab some sanitary products. You changed your shorts and got the dirty ones soaking in cold water to draw out the blood. You came back to bed and pulled the covers back fully, inspecting the top and bottom sheets and exhaling in relief as you had thankfully managed to not mark them.
“Sorry I woke you up like that.” You apologized and slid back into bed with him quickly; the cottage had cooled off substantial overnight.
His arms wrapped around you, and he shook his head seemingly lost in thought.
“For all our biological differences, the similarities are truly telling.” He spoke into the comfortable silence.
“Well, as your mother was able to conceive Arthur…humans and Atlanteans must be quite closely related.”
“Mmmm…Well we were technically human, I suppose, before the Great Fall…that changed everything.”
You nodded against his shoulder feeling the usual fatigue now that you had been up and about. You could feel his eyes on you as he was watching you closely. You offered a reassuring smile.
“Are you ready for breakfast?” You asked, sitting up.
He nodded slowly. “I believe so, yes. I will join you in having some eggs.”
You smiled more and slid out of the bed again, heading to your room to get dressed in something with more fabric to compensate for the cooler temperatures. You squinted an eye shut while brushing your teeth – oh yes – there were the cramps. You fished some pain killers out of the cupboard and took them before heading to the kitchen to cook with him.
As you were eating you found yourself starting off into space a lot, the sudden drop in hormones was such a drain on your energy. He was watchful but remained silent as you cleaned up together.
“We should finish chopping that wood today. I’ll show you how to make sticks of kindling so we can start fires more easily.”
He nodded and the two of you headed outside into the clear, comfortable day. You grabbed the large axe for him, and the gloves and a hatchet for you. He took the axe and continued to quarter the logs as you carried them into the well stocked woodshed. You were actually grateful he had not found more trees, there would have been nowhere to store the wood.
You grabbed a few example pieces of kindling and handed them to him once the wood was all neatly stacked.
“This is what we’re going to make next. It’s much easier to light something small like this on fire, before adding the bigger logs once the flames are hot enough.”
He examined them critically before watching you demonstrate how to split the small pieces off a larger piece of wood. Your hand was a lot closer to the head of the hatchet to better control your swings, and you were not using as much force. He took the hatchet from you and after a few tries was easily replicating the tidy pieces of kindling. You scooped the pile that had accumulated as he switched to a new piece of wood, tucking them away in an orderly fashion.
You returned to watch a new pile growing at his feet, risking a stretch of your aching back, your lower abdomen making you wince and press a hand to try and soothe the ache of your cramps.
“You’re in pain.” He commented and you lifted your head to see that he had been watching closely. “Why are you working if you’re in pain?”
You swallowed and shrugged a little. “If women stopped working whenever they were in pain…” You trailed off as he looked non-plussed. “Society expects it of us…expects our contributions despite the monthly discomfort.” You did not have to energy to sugar coat it.
He set down the hatchet and shook his head.
“Well, I do not…what helps?” He said firmly.
Sighing in defeat you grudgingly admitted “Rest and painkillers…heat…time… I’ll be fine we’re almost done.”
Wordlessly, he took your hand in his and pulled you towards the cabin.
“Where would you like to rest?” The rest was not a question, simply the location.
“Uh…I guess the living room? I’ll watch something on TV.” Reading didn’t hold the same attraction for you today.
He led you inside and you settled on the couch there.
“I will finish making kindling of the wood you set out for me. Is there anything else you need until then?”
You shook your head, more than a little stunned at how…forcefully caring… he was acting. The words would not normally belong with one another, but they were a perfect description of his behaviour. You heard the door close as he headed back outside and pulled out your phone to stream something mindless on the television.
As the episode was coming to an end, you heard him return to the house and he sat at your feet, eyeing the content on the screen.
“Why don’t I put on something you would enjoy as well…” You scrolled through some of the offerings, thinking about the topics he’d seemed most interested in over the last few weeks. He had been particularly fascinated by the war in Vietnam – a war of futility that had not ended well for a world super-power. One that was a source of shame and not discussed again until decades later. That settled it. You pulled up the Ken Burn’s series on Vietnam and set the first episode to play.
He was quickly absorbed in the immersive documentary and settled onto the couch with you. Rather than pulling him into your arms, you shifted to lean against him, and he wrapped his arms around you warmly. Despite your own interest in the topic, the combination of his warmth and your fatigue made your eyelids heavy. After a number of slow, fighting blinks, you let your eyes slide shut and stay that way, dozing for an episode as he continued to watch with deep interest.
The first three days of your period passed this way – quietly, in the comfort of his embrace, exploring the offerings on your various streaming apps. Your energy returned, your pain lessened, and on the fourth day he chose a ridiculous series about the hunt for Atlantis. He was settled between your legs once again, leaning back against your chest. You groaned as the title popped up on the screen.
“I apologize on behalf of all humans and insist this is not representative of us as a whole.”
He chuckled richly, his hands cradling yours, fingers tracing along the backs of yours, thumb caressing the inner wrist of your right hand, making you shudder. The show was preposterous. His touch was distracting. You leaned against his ear and murmured your invitation.
“Come shower with me…” You hoped you sounded seductive, rather than like a needy lover.
The look in his eyes as he turned to scan over your face gave you hope that you had succeeded. Your teeth sank into your lower lip slightly in anticipation and he smoothly stood, holding out a hand to help pull you up. Sliding to your feet, you led him into the washroom, and turned to slide his shirt up and off. Once his face was free of the fabric, you leaned in to kiss him as your fingers worked the fly of his pants open.
His mouth was hungry and insistent on yours and you realized that he had been patient with you, but his desire was just as intense as before. He worked on your pants as well before pulling back to work your shirt up and off, hands eagerly cupping your breasts. You yelped slightly as they were more sensitive and he responded by loosening his grip, switching to airy kisses along your tender flesh above the cup of your bra. You shuddered and pulled his pants down eagerly before kissing his temple and turning to get the shower running at a warm, but not too hot, temperature.
He took advantage of your position, unclipping your bra and sliding the straps down your arms with grazing fingertips as his lips marked a trail down your spine. You arched your back to meet the softness of his lips, letting your bra fall to the ground. You slid out of your underwear and tucked the sanitary product out of sight before stepping into the warm spray of the water and looking back at him. He licked his lips and divested himself of his underwear before promptly joining you, closing the door to the large shower stall as he sealed your lips in a hungry kiss.
His hands cupped the sides of your breasts, thumbs circling your nipples with featherlight touches. His touch was calibrated to your heightened level of sensitivity and had you arching against him with needy moans. His hips pressed against yours, pressing you into the shower wall in turn. You could feel his desire stiffening against the crease of your hip and you rolled your hips forward encouragingly. A rumble emanated from his chest and reverberated through yours as one hand left its delicious torment on your breast and slid between your legs.
His touch here, too, was featherlight and you felt him shudder as he found you already warm and slick. His fingers fluttered along your slit and near your pleasure point, but rarely made direct contact to avoid overly sensitive flesh. Your breath was coming in short pants under his skilled fingers and you slid one leg around his waist, pulling him closer. His forearm easily protected the space he needed to continue teasing you against your demanding grip. Fingers circled your entrance before tentatively dipping into you. You keened wantonly against his lips, and he latched his mouth onto your throat before plunging one and then two fingers into your damp heat.
“Orm!” You gasped his name enthusiastically, head rolling back to rest against the wall, eyes clenched tight in pleasure. He lifted his head to drink in the expressions of your face as his fingers thrust into you, thumb circling the silken skin around your clit. Your body quivered as it was just right…just what you needed…just a little more.
“Look at me…”His voice was hoarse with lust and, as you opened your eyes, you could see his pupils were blown, just at the sight of you. You moaned hungrily and bucked your hips to his hand.
“Close…” You panted.
“Come.” Was his reply as he curled his fingers into the deep seat of your pleasure and you rose up onto the toes of your one foot still on the ground, wailing as you convulsed in pleasure. You were vaguely aware of his tortured moan as he watched you fall apart in his arms.
His fingers left your body and he carefully unwound you from him before turning your back to press against his chest. You could feel the hard ridge of his cock pressing against your buttocks and you reached forward to brace your hands against the wall as he spread your legs with his before bending his knees slightly. He surged up, thrusting his cock into your body still contracting with waves of pleasure. An agonized moan fell from your lips at how incredible it felt to be stretched by him. You felt his tongue tracing along your spine, up along the back of your neck as his hips picked up the rhythm his fingers had begun.
You were grateful for the way his hands gripped your hips possessively, unable to fully trust your quivering legs as you were quickly pulled back up into the dizzying climb towards release. The snap of his hips against your butt, the pattern of the warm droplets of water falling from the shower head onto your skin, the feel of his greedy tongue on your neck and shoulders…they all combined with his pulsing cock deep inside you to push you into the abyss of ecstasy with a new rapidity.
His teeth grazed your shoulder as he growled and thrust through the waves of your second climax, seeking now only his release, desperate, hungry. The pure animal need of it had you losing your grip on the wall and his hands quickly shifted to hold tightly your breasts, keeping you upright as his thrusts became more erratic.
You swore thickly as a third orgasm was ripped from your sensitive body and he rammed into you thrice more before you felt his powerful release deep within you with a desperate cry that almost sounded anguished. You slumped against the wall, allowing him to fully support you as he cleaned up you, drying you gently and redressing you with your guidance to ensure your clothes were protected from your blood.
He carried you to bed and slid between the blankets, holding you as you fell asleep.
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Read Part Twelve
Masterlist
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lilkrissmuffett · 3 months
Text
Don't Let the Bedbug-Man Bite
Perfect Cell/Fem!Reader
NSFW. Approximately 3k words.
Read it on ao3 here!
Read part II here!
During one of many restless nights under the Perfect Being's watchful eye, Cell decides to very kindly help his little human pet fall asleep...whether you WANT to or not.
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~
Nights should honestly be the worst. 
Ever since you were a little girl, you’ve always been afraid of the dark, the threat of the unknown lurking amongst the wind-swayed trees outside your window. But now that you’re with Perfect Cell, you’ve come to fear the cold even more, no matter the time. That insidious, creeping chill that crawls deep into your bones means that you are alone. It means that Cell, your provider, your savior, the only being left on this godforsaken planet that still gives a shit whether you live or die (or so he says)…has abandoned you.
But not tonight. 
Tonight, at least, you’re safe and warm. For a being that resembles little more than a massive, mutated cicada, the bastard sure gives off a surprising amount of body heat.
You lie awake in Cell’s inhumanly strong arms, perpetually unnerved by his lack of a heartbeat despite your face being pressed against his hard, smooth chestplate. Instead, the sound coming from within his chitinous form is more akin to the whir of a fan inside a PC tower. One that was pushing seven feet tall, not including the bizarrely insectile pair of pointed protrusions at the crown of his head. Perfect Cell’s physical appearance could only be described as some off-putting mix of conventionally attractive and downright grotesque, calling to mind the lethal beauty of a pitcher plant or Venus fly-trap. 
A natural predator in the most unnatural sense of the word…but hey, you fell in either way.
Suddenly, there is a large, clawed hand curling beneath your chin and tilting your head back, so quick and abrupt it makes your neck crack. You pry open your eyes and all you can see in the blackness is the bioluminescent magenta of Cell’s impassive stare. He squints slightly as he tugs you closer, and you can’t tell whether he disapproves of what he sees or if it’s just his usual ‘ew, a human’ air of superiority that fuels his seemingly constant disdain for your presence. Shifting your positioning so that your back is against his front, he brushes his thumb over your lips before sliding his grip a little lower.
You blink back fresh tears, but It’s not because you’re scared of him. There are other reasons.
“You aren’t sleeping.”, he observes flatly, stating the obvious as if he’s known from the very start. That you could never truly rest while lying in your dead parents’ bed, their cooling bodies sprawled out on either side of it. Your mother’s broken limbs are twisted in all kinds of disturbing angles, your father’s sightless eyes gaze up at the ceiling despite the rest of his body lying prone. 
You will never be able to scrub that image from your mind; a fact that no doubt amuses Cell, positively tickles him even, and perhaps that is why he nearly always ends your days this way. Checking one of your mostly estranged but no-less-loved ones off of his hit list, severing yet another of your increasingly brittle connections to the world he’s vowed to destroy. Just for shits and giggles, mind you. You see, everything is like a game to Cell, and he always plays to win. 
“Yeah. I know.”, you agree without argument or explanation, your voice slightly strained from the slowly increasing pressure on your windpipe. He’s not choking you, not yet, merely controlling your breath. Like everything else in your new life together, Cell is completely in charge. He decides how much oxygen goes into your lungs, not you. In fact, he makes lots of decisions regarding what goes inside you, and the notion that this thought never fails to arouse you is what shames you the most.
Cell’s mouth is on your ear now, his voice deadly soft and dripping with feigned concern as he nuzzles your hair, breathing you in deep and slow. You swear he’s mocking you as your vision begins to spot.
“A proper night’s rest is imperative, my dear. Tomorrow is a very important day for us, and while I hold no qualms about penetrating your unconscious body for all the world to see…”, he chuckles to himself, probably picturing it, “...I’d much prefer my pet to remain fully awake and alert during the act of coitus.”
“You…killed my parents. They are dead on the fucking floor...and-and you expect me to—”
Cell cuts you off, his response curt and utterly devoid of sentiment. “Of course, I would be happy to assist you if falling asleep on your own has proven too difficult. Perhaps you might even enjoy it, hm?” He never comforts you after he does these awful things, but at least this time he lets you breathe. You can feel him smirk against your neck as you gasp for air, his other hand idly wandering up your shirt, tracing his nails along the soft plane of your abdomen.
“Shall I, pet? I can make you feel very good...I can make you forget.”
Despite your immediate reluctance, you resign yourself to your fate with a single, weak nod of your head. You hate that he’s right, and he revels in it, seizing your breasts in two greedy handfuls and kneading painfully hard. It makes you feel slimy, like you need a shower, and pretty soon…you probably will.
“That’s my girl…”, Cell croons, low and smooth, running his long, proboscis-like tongue up the back of your neck before his teeth dig into the soft flesh of your nape. There’s already an angry violet bruise there, and the pain borders on nauseating. 
“Mm. So, you’re learning, are you…that I only have your best interests at heart.” 
You’d roll your eyes at that line of utter bullshit if they weren’t already halfway to the back of your skull. Cell’s skilled fingers have snuck between your legs, rubbing your wet cunt through your underwear while his other hand continues to grope you at his leisure. He likes when you squirm, so you do.
“Do you even…ahhh- have a heart?”, you ask, somewhere between sarcasm and genuine inquiry. The answer comes in two forms, one you can hear, the other you can feel, hot and achingly rigid as it prods impatiently at your backside. Before you can protest, the thin cotton barrier protecting you from this assault is torn apart with a single, well-placed swipe of his claw.
“Not technically…but don’t play coy with me, kitten. You and I both know there are other parts of my perfect form that will be of greater benefit...for both of us.”, Cell reasons, his normally pompous tone wavering just a hair as he slips his repulsive, prehensile phallus between the cushioning of your inner thighs. Self-lubricated by its own mucosal lining, his thick shaft glides wetly back and forth against your supple flesh with almost sickening ease. It makes you want to vomit.
It makes you want to beg for it.
Cell’s next command comes out far too huskily for your liking, his own burgeoning lust caught in his throat. You can tell he’s becoming more and more restless with each passing second. Soon, his prim and proper outer shell will split wide open and there will be no mercy underneath. It’s frightening, his propensity for violence. Especially when he’s inside of you.
“Let me in, woman.”, Cell practically snarls, the last word spat in your ear like an insult.
“You would do well not to deny me.”
The cruelty in his voice freezes your blood and you stutter, just as you used to when you were younger. God, you hate when he brings that out of you. It’s been literal decades, for fuck’s sake.
“I-I…I’m nuh-not!”, you whine loudly, trying not to want him even as your pussy dribbles embarrassingly all over the shredded remains of your panties and onto his vile, milk-white cock, “Look, you’re gonna take wh-what you want a-anyways…suh-so-so just FUCK me already!!”
Much to your dismay, your android captor falls eerily silent for a moment, stilling all motion mid-thrust between your legs.
“Oh, darling…that’s cute and all, but I’m afraid you are in no position to be demanding anything.” Cell barks a haughty laugh, growing breathless with need as he roughly flips you over onto your belly and yanks your hips into the air with alarming speed. The tip of his cock slaps obscenely against your ass, leaving thin webs of pre-ejaculate to bridge the gap between your skin and his. He stretches his insectoid frame across your back like something out of a classic body-horror flick, shoving your face into the pillow and pinning you there as he prepares to violate you. The heel of his hand grinds down upon your skull, sharp nails jabbing into your scalp while the other wraps around the base of his pulsating member, massaging the gooey tendril in a very specific way. Right down the middle.
“I will fuck you — as vulgar and pedestrian as that word choice may be — whenever, and however I please, you foolish little thing. Pathetic, really…for you to even assume otherwise.”, he scoffs, his sharply handsome features contorting into an ominous grin as his sinewy length splits in two with a horrible, sloppy squelch.
Panic ignites, blindingly bright and glassy, once Cell sets about teasing both of your tight little holes in simultaneous fashion, groaning with pleasure as he slowly forces you open. His laughter is laced with sadistic intent, drowning out your muffled screams while he fills you so thoroughly that you’re convinced he’s going to simply rip you apart.
The fact that he does not is no small miracle.
With surprising care hardly befitting of a genocidal monster, he lifts you into his arms, still buried near to the hilt as he sits back on his haunches, bent knees emitting a sound like a squeaky shopping cart wheel. His hands guide your hips, rocking you in his lap for a moment before letting go entirely. You’re overcome by an odd, weightless sensation as Cell gracefully leans back on the bed to better angle himself, the better to drive himself deeper, your body supported by seemingly nothing but his dual members. You hover up and down as if carried by a gentle wave upon the sea, feeling them slither and writhe against your hot inner walls. Caressing you in places you never knew you longed to be touched.
You could float here forever, you think, with your head lolling back on your shoulders and your mouth parted in a series of soft, elated moans. It never occurs to you that Cell would use his mastery of telekinesis just to momentarily ease the discomfort of double penetration. Not for you. Not for anyone. 
“I told you I could make you feel good, pet. And I will.”, Cell purrs from behind you, his warm tongue lapping at the sensitive hollow where your shoulder meets the slender column of your neck. “After all, it is only fair to return the favor, yes? I think we can agree on that much, even if you do seem slightly…indisposed at the moment.”
There was a small pause in his arrogant ramblings in which he began to bounce you a little faster and you could very blatantly hear him try to suppress a gasping moan as your body clung to him for dear life. 
“Nnnggh…I would imagine you feel quite fortunate to be allowed the privilege of being taken by the ultimate life-form.”, Cell continues, absolutely loving the pitiful, pleading sounds coming from your mouth while you ride him.
“Now tell me, human…who is the only being in the universe that could ever please you this way? I just adore the sound of my name coming from those pretty lips of yours…”
He sounds so insufferably smug, full of himself as ever. Sometimes you wish he’d just shut up.
With a single flourish of his wrist, you are then spun around to meet his half-lidded gaze, face to face and chest to hard-plated chest, and for a second you swear he might be looking at you as if you’re something other than a squashed insect stuck to the bottom of his weird, mechanical boot-foot.
“YOU, Cell…Mmn, f-fuck…❤”
His name tumbles from your lips like a prayer and he instantly takes hold of your waist, claws digging into your yielding softness as he finally allows plain ol’ gravity to take over. Thrusting up, and up, and up, he drills you from below like a well-oiled machine, so deep and forceful that his cocks may as well be tickling the back of your throat. Cell crushes you against his torso while he fucks into you at an impossible pace, growling and grunting like one of those inferior creatures he claims to be oh so much better than. 
“...M m m i i i n n e…"
He hisses greedily, teeth clenched and jaw tightly latched around that same ravaged spot on your neck. He doesn’t even sound like himself anymore, drifting further from perfection, and closer to Hell. Small beads of blood begin to well up around his claws and fangs alike, tearing more delicious cries from you before he devours them right from your lips. His actions are no longer merely possessive in nature…but totally obsessed. You wonder in a vague, detached sort of way if he’s going to accidentally maul you to death. Indeed, the irritating mechanical squeal of his joints filling your ears with every thrust almost makes you wish he would knock you out so you could at least be spared the headache. But for now, all that you can do is wrap your arms around his neck and take it.
Then somewhere within the sheer chaos of panting breaths and smacking flesh on exoskeletal flesh, you swear you can hear Cell mutter your name; not some degrading pet name, but the honest-to-god real, actual name your dearly departed parents gave you when you were born, as he lurches into a vicious, bellowing climax. Both phalli are throbbing rapidly and swelling up with his impending release, testing the limits of your already abused holes as if they never even existed in the first place. Only then does he pump you full to the brim with the poisonous-looking purple sludge that is his semen– thick, hot ropes splattering your insides.
And after all that, he doesn’t even deign to let you come, simply shoving your limp figure off of his lap once he’s finished, so that you can pass out in the mess leaking from between your splayed, trembling thighs. With a tilt of his head, Cell looks you over, licking his chops with approval as his taut, fiendish expression begins to relax back to that standard, holier-than-thou smirk ‘n glare combo. His spent members meld back together once more, still dripping cum as they slowly retreat back within the fleshy purple folds surrounding the vertical slit between his legs. Soon, the orifice closes entirely, sealing up and hardening into the shiny armor plate specifically meant to protect Cell’s reproductive organs.
“Hmm. I suppose that was…satisfactory. However, as much as I would like to keep playing with you, I should allow your weak, mortal form ample time to recover. Ah, why must you humans have so many bothersome physiological defects…?”, he laments with a loud, overly dramatic sigh, scrunching up his brow ridges and briefly rubbing his temple with two fingers. You would probably laugh at how ridiculous he looked if you didn’t feel like you’d just been run over by a goddamn semi-truck. 
“But, no matter. Rest well, sweet pet.”, he tells you with a fond little hum, leaning over to push your hair back and awkwardly peck the center of your sweaty forehead. His lips tentatively linger on your skin for a second or two as he reaches down between your legs, circling your clitoris with one playful finger. Blithely amused by the way you twitch and whimper at the slightest hint of contact. It’s not as if he doesn’t know exactly what that tiny bundle of nerves is for, but more like he just doesn’t care. 
Asshole.
But tomorrow, the Games begin. Maybe he’ll surprise you with something special…or maybe he won’t. Guess you’ll find out. Cell has been toying with the concept of inserting some ‘half-time’ entertainment into his long-awaited martial arts tournament (more like a thinly-veiled vanity project, in your humble opinion) with his human pet as the star, for the past few days now. He seems practically giddy over it, in fact, especially when you react to the idea with open discomfort.
“Well, then. I trust I’ve chosen wisely by keeping you alive…for the time being. Do not make me regret it later.” Cell’s parting threat wafts in one ear and out the other as he exits the room, addressing your dazed form as if you were a misbehaving child. Your captor doesn’t need to sleep as far as you can tell, and you are only left to wonder what the bio-android gets up to while you are busy fulfilling that basic human need.
But in the blissful seconds before exhaustion claims you until morning, it doesn’t matter that you are left unsatisfied, badly bruised, and bleeding in several places. It doesn’t even matter that the monster from your childhood nightmares has brutally and systematically murdered everyone you ever loved.
Because in that one moment of fleeting clarity…you are perfect. 
You are his.
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grogusmum · 1 year
Note
Hazel !!! I saw your selkie Ezra post and you have provided so many prompts that I would love to see you write.
What’s the limit on prompts to send in? right now number 8. “i can’t sleep without you here” from the soft smut list is tugging at my heart strings🥺 (but I think about them all the time, so there are others I could send in…👀)
-Ash💗
Aw lol m'dear!
I would LOVE to see the 8, idk that I'd be able to get to all 8 but I will pick the ones that speak to me and the one here 🥺 is pulling at my heartstrings too!! Thank you for the request, Ash 💚
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SELKIE!EZRA X F!READER 
W/C: 500ish
A/N: part of the Seven Tears 'verse.
WARNING: Though set in Ireland, and Ireland's predominantly white, Reader is physically undescribed, as are her blood relatives, her missing spouse and his family are white, selkie Ezra is a Ezra and a selkie, oh and possessive Ezra, needy Ezra, Ezra dealing with "modern" conveniences.
Gaelic Translations:
Mo stór: my treasure
Mo stóirín: my little treasure 
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Ezra's eyes map a pencil line fissure along the ceiling, and shifts disgruntled under the wedding ring quilt. The bed feels large. The back of his hand absently passes over your cool pillow. 
Huffing, he throws the bed clothes off and goes to the sitting room. 
Pacing, he looks out the windows as he passes each one. At the front door he opens then closes it, his mustache bristling. 
His dark eyes fall on the large black telephone and his brows knit. He has seen you use it. You told him how in case he needed to call you at the mongery, but he has never wanted to tangle with it.
He hates the thing… it is loud and diverts you from him. Sometimes having to leave, like tonight at supper.
Of course, Ezra cares very much for your family, and when Deirdre called and asked if you would help with your sick brother and father, he  completely understood. He just wishes he had gone too. But it is a terrible fever going round, and they are trying to keep exposure down. 
Ezra stares at the fool contraption, with a hesitant hand he picks up the heavy receiver and puts it to his ear, as you had done. There was a tone, loud and unnatural. He does not like it. He looks at the paper beside the telephone your parent's exchange on it, and dials slowly. The rotary dial whirring.
There is a sound of ringing and suddenly a loud click-
" 'llo, Brennan residence"
"Moonbeam," Ezra is unnecessarily loud. "Is it you on the other end of this monstrosity?"
He hears a quiet chuckle.
"Ezra, my love, here I am."
"No, you are there and I am, as you are aware, here. And I have to use this infernal doodad!"
"These doodads make it so we can speak to one another when parted."
Ezra knows, and is grateful- but not happy about it.
"I can not sleep without you here, moonbeam. The bed is too big. It goes on for absolute leagues!" 
You smile, you can hear his pout. After a moment,
"Everyone is asleep here. Why don't I wash up, and meet you outside."
You hear noises, boots maybe, the door, then the loud clunk and ring of the bells within the telephone- the base falling to the floor.
"Yes, mo stór (mu store), yes!" 
"We have to hang up, Ezra."
"Of course! Yes," Ezra says as he picks it up and puts it back on the table, you hear him mutter, diabolical machine, under his breath. "I am on my way to you, moonbeam!" 
Ezra hangs up the handset and flies out the door, sweater in hand. He pulls it on as he makes his way to the house behind the fishmongery. 
When he knocks, it is quiet but urgent. Thankful he only waits a few moments before you open the door to him. 
Ezra pulls you out of the house and envelopes you in a hug. His face, hidden in the crook of your neck.
"Mo stóirín (mu store-een)," he says, like a sigh of relief. And then the nips and kisses begin…
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THANK YOU FOR READING 💚 
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𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐒𝐤𝐢𝐞𝐬 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟖: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐚𝐥𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
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Summary: The day as finally come for the big mission, things go a bit too smoothly for their liking. Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader (Callsign: Sol) AND Keegan P. Russ x Reader (Callsign: Hatter) Word Count: 6.2K (Phew! Hefty) Warnings: Canon-typical blood and violence, cursing, illness. Author's Note: Sorry this took so long! She's a hefty gal, and I'm out of practice writing high-intensity scenes haha (If you haven't noticed, I am a fluff writer). Regardless, enjoy!
In what seemed like a blink it was already the next day, and while it was a comfort to be grouped up the way they were, with Ghost, Keegan, Hatter and Sol all working alongside each other in the field, it was also the most terrifying.
Anything could go wrong, and the stakes were the highest they have ever been. Not only were they risking their lives, but they were also risking their minds, their very souls in the face of the Z virus. It was an understatement to say that everyone was on edge.
It’s why Hatter had made sure to do one thing before they all set out.
~
It was late in the night, morning if you asked anyone else. In under 24 hours, the people Hatter held most dear to her would be setting out on one of the most dangerous missions they would ever embark on. Everyone was mostly asleep already, planning to get one final good night’s sleep before the mission would begin.
She had left Keegan in their shared bedroom, slipping away quietly as he snored away, bundled in his hoodie and a pair of her sweatpants. She had laid there until he fell asleep, staring at the ceiling as insomnia settled in.
She could never really sleep well before missions like these, where so much was at risk, but for the sake of her husband’s wellbeing, she would always pretend that she did. Knowing him, he would simply stay up alongside her (it’s happened before), and while she appreciated the sentiment more than anything, she valued his health more.
So it was almost a ritual now to sneak out of bed, going on a late-night walk through the base. This time, however, it was different. Because this time she needed to find a certain someone who would also be awake, just like her.
~
Oftentimes on walks like these she would find herself on the rooftops. It was a comfort. Yes, it provided a beautiful view, the world as it slept away. Sometimes she caught herself imagining a world where the Federation didn’t exist, where it was simply a sleepness night for one reason or another, and that in the morning it would all be normal. She could go for a drive through the city streets, shop for groceries, and go to a park hand in hand with her husband.
Those little comforts that people don’t really realize until there gone. Until a walk beyond the walls meant a death wish if you weren’t well prepared. Hell, even if you were prepared.
Now, those sleepless nights on the rooftop meant that it was the best vantage point for seeing anything amiss, something that could put the lives of everyone in danger. Opening the door, a blast of cool night air hits her face, the chill seeping into her bones. She hugs the hoodie a little closer to her body, as her eyes scan the surroundings systematically.
She zeroes in on a dark figure sitting on the edge of the rooftop, knows he had heard her come up here but makes no move to turn around. Wordlessly she makes her way over, and only when she sits down does he finally turn to face her.
“Quiet night,” he says, turning back out into the distance.
“Too quiet maybe,” she replies, looking out as far as she could possibly see. Which wasn’t far considering the wall that blocked the horizon from this vantage.
They don’t say anything more than that for a little while, the only sounds were of the surrounding world.
“Simon, listen…” Hatter trails off, turning to look at him because she understood the weight of what she was asking him to do. She notices his eyes widen for a moment, it wasn’t often that she used his actual name, it was always ‘Ghost’, ‘L.T.’ or something along the lines of that.
“Whatever happens out there, it might not end well. Hell, it might even be stupid if I consider the possibility of it going well, not when we only have the faintest idea of what’s out there,” she says, exasperated before sighing.
“I’ve been thinking about what could go wrong, especially with this whole ‘Z virus’ thing. Any one of us could get infected, turn into one of those, those things, mindless and violent. I couldn’t live with myself if somehow, some way or another I end up hurting any of you.”
“You’ve really thought of all the worst-case scenarios, huh,” he says, trying for a slightly lighter tone in the face of the gravity of this situation.
“Simon, I need you to be the one to kill me if I end up getting infected,” she says, hands wringing together mindlessly.
He only stares at her for a moment, not saying a word.
“You can’t ask that of me,” he says lowly at last, hazel eyes swirling with conflicting emotions. She knew he understood where she was coming from, he would be the only one out of her friends that did. But he wasn’t just some soldier, they had known each other for years, and she was asking him to…
“This isn’t some game of cat and mouse anymore and you know it, if I end up getting sick I’d put everything at risk.” If there was one thing anyone could understand about Hatter, it would be her sense of honour and duty to the cause, even at the cost of herself. “I can’t risk it, not something like this. None of us can,”
“You know I can’t ask anyone else about this,” she whispers. “Sol would tear herself apart trying to find ways to save me, but there’s no cure to this. Nothing we can develop in time, not with our technology. It would kill her to see me die,” she says, her heart aching at the thought of hurting her best friend. She knew it was low, bringing his wife into this, but it wasn’t anything but the truth.
“And Keegan… you know he wouldn’t be able to do it either. I’m sorry it has to be like this, but it has to be you,” she says, her eyes pleading.
“No one is dying on my watch, Hatter,” he says, getting up to his feet so that he could join his wife in bed, and hold her close before this mission.
“Simon, please, I’m only asking in case something happens, none of us can afford to get sick,” she says, turning as she watches him stalk off.
“Fuck,” she hears him murmur under his breath before he sighs harshly, “fine. But don’t think I won’t try my damndest to make sure it doesn’t get to that point,” he says, his tone final.
She breathes a sigh of relief, turning to look one last time up at the night sky before getting up as well, wanting to join her husband too.
~
The car ride was relatively quiet, oftentimes the only sound was the loud rumble of the armoured truck as it drove through to the recon site.
They had set out as ordered, 2200 had come all too soon. Logan and Hesh were still on base, setting out a little bit earlier so that the timings for both groups would match up. They would provide close air support, the eyes in the sky.
The tension was palpable in the air as everyone triple-checked that they understood the game plan.
It was simple. Or, rather, it was as straightforward as it could be.
With the intel that Keegan and Ghost had acquired, it was understood that at midnight on the dot three vehicles will be pulling up the Federation-Gadyuka base. Each vehicle will be one klick away from the other, the main one the central one. The one in front is a reconnaissance vehicle, ensuring the path is clear for the central vehicle carrying the kidnapped citizens and soldiers. The final one is to ensure everyone’s safety from the backline.
That was the vehicle they would be taking over.
Timing it correctly, they could dispose of the soldiers within, take their uniforms and catch up with the rest of the convoy before they notice anything is amiss. Every single time they passed by, there were four soldiers in the truck which played out perfectly.
Once inside the base, they would split up into pairs of two; Ghost and Hatter, Keegan and Sol. They each had 15 minutes to gather intel, labs, offices, and anything they could find before reconvening on the rooftop for exfil by Logan and Hesh in the air.
Then it would be mission complete.
~
“Hatter, Ghost, are you set?” Keegan says, the final vehicle in the convoy coming into view.
“Check,” Ghost says.
“Set.”
Keegan takes this as the go-ahead to pull the truck as close to the vehicle as possible. While it would be easier for them to take the passengers out from the distance with rifles, it’s a tad bit conspicuous arriving at a base in a truck full of bullet holes.
Their best chance is to hijack the vehicle, opening the doors and taking them out as they are none the wiser.
It wasn’t every day you had people leaping onto your truck dead set on killing you after all.
“3, 2, 1,” Ghost counts down, then Hatter and him are opening their doors and jumping onto the other one.
Ghost yanks open the driver's side door, opting to simply throw the driver out, who only manages to scream “WHAT THE FU-” before proceeding to get run over by Keegan. Taking the driver’s spot, the passenger doesn’t even have time to get a shot out before he has a bullet in his forehead, Ghost’s aim ringing true.
At the same time, Hatter also opens the backseat door, hanging onto the roof rails as she shoots both soldiers in the head. Her heart is racing with the adrenaline of the action, the leap, the kills; it’s been a while since she has truly been out in the field, the weeks filled with nothing but empty terrain. For a moment she realizes it feels good to kill after so long.
Ghost pulls the truck over as Keegan does, and Hatter takes the pause in movement to chuck the bodies out of their seats and into the long grass.
“Grab their uniforms and put them on, we don’t have much time,” Ghost orders, and everyone hauls ass to do as he says.
“Gods this dude fucking stinks, do they not know what showers are?” Sol says, plugging her nose as she strips the uniform off.
“Here, give that one to me, that wouldn’t fit your short ass anyway,” Hatter says, taking one for the team.
“You would look pretty ridiculous Sol,” Keegan snorts.
“Y’all are bitches, the lot of you,” she says with a glare, but handing over the uniform anyway.
“Even me?” Ghost says, a sad tone gracing his words.
“No baby, never you. Well, except when you finish the last of the Nutella,” she says with a grin.
“Alright, that’s enough goofing around. Let’s get to it yeah?” Hatter says, and they get into the truck and proceed on schedule.
“Ghost 0-1 to ground team, what’s your status?” Logan’s voice trickles through the radio.
“Secured the vehicle, headed to base now,” Keegan radios back.
“Check, you are clear for insertion and date retrieval, it's looking quiet out there. No one seems aware of your presence,” he responds.
“Copy all, Ghost 0-1. Out here.”
“We go in fast, we get out fast. No need to get compromised, we just need the intel. Blend. In. Are we clear?” Ghost orders in the truck.
“Roger.”
“Got it.”
“Yup.”
Not long after they are falling into place in the convoy, and after a brief interaction with the guards at the gates they made their way inside the base’s garage with ease.
“Keegan, Sol, you know what to do,” Ghost says, and they both nod in response.
They were both tasked to wipe out the power with a charge, generators would have it back up and running in no time, but the distraction allowed for everyone a period of time to get to where they needed to be discreetly and undetected.
They were also going to tap into the base’s comms. A little extra information about the whereabouts of the enemy was never bad, was it? In the meantime, Ghost and Hatter would be placing charges for their getaway in case things get messy. Better safe than sorry.
“I don’t know how you do it, Sol,” Keegan mutters as she watches Sol flit about the control room, typing up a storm.
“With my big brain, that’s how,” she snickers in response before becoming serious again, focusing on the task at hand.
“And…done!” she says, static is heard over their radios for a moment before clear Federation-Gadyuka radio chatter comes through. Keegan holds out his fist for a bump which Sol returns happily.
“Let’s regroup with the other two, yeah?”
~
“Explosions, my favourite,” Hatter chuckles to herself.
“You sound insane,” Ghost gives her a sideye before proceeding to plant another charge on an exit way.
“Don’t act like you don’t like ‘em either, don’t think I don’t remember the chaos you and Soap created back in the day,”.
“Believe me, they still do,” Sol’s voice is heard behind them. “Soup tells me all the juicy details about their missions.”
“That’s supposed to be classified,” Simon mutters. “Focus on the mission, we don’t have time for fooling around in here.”
“Got it, sir.”
“Group up, reconvene on the roof in 15 minutes for exfil, no later than that, understood?” Hatter says, and everyone says their words of agreement before splitting up.
Keegan and Sol head off to the laboratories since Sol would have the best understanding of the intel they would find there whereas Ghost and Hatter would be off to find schematics and plans of what the Federation and Gadyuka were up to.
~
“It’s funny how Laswell had called these infected people zombies,” Sol says, riffling through the papers while simultaneously looking at the data being downloaded from the computer. Keegan stands on guard off to the side of her, keeping watch. The bodies of the scientists laying on the floor, knife wounds in their necks.
“What do you mean? They can come back from the dead, eat people, and are practically brainless. What not zombie about that?” Keegan asks.
“Well, for one thing, zombies are reanimated corpses. These people? They’re just unlucky bastards subject to the torture of the Fed and Gadyuka, but they’re still human and alive when infected. They just lose control of their mind, it's horrible…” Sol explains.
“And technically speaking, this isn’t even a virus at all. It infects like a virus in the sense that it spreads very quickly, but it stems from fungal growths that exist in nature, genetically engineered to be able to withstand the conditions of the human body. It doesn’t take over your body's cellular processes to make you sick, it alters your very mind. In a sick way, it's fascinating but horrifying because we can’t use typical methods of vaccine production to counteract it, that’s what makes it so dangerous.” Keegan stares blankly at the scientific tangent that Sol had just gone on, but he got the gist.
“So, this is a lot more fucked up than it already is, is what you’re saying,”
“Exactly,” she responds.
“We almost done here? 5 minutes till exfil,” Keegan says.
“Yup, just gotta finish downloading these last few files. Who knew the high-tech Federation would have such shit internet,” Sol scoffs as she shoves the files into her pack.
“Done, let’s get a move on,” she says, scanning the room one last time for the information she might’ve missed. Upon ensuring there was none, she plants charges to be detonated once they were off enemy turf.
“What? The less information they have, the better,” she explains to Keegan as he watches her run around.
“And the less time we’ll have to haul ass up all those stairs,” he retorts, and Sol visibly blanches at the thought.
“Alright let’s go.”
~
“Holy shit,” Hatter exclaims as she looks around the room. The walls are covered in schematics and images of allied territory, Ghosts, 141 and other familiar faces.
“Looks like they’ve been planning for a while now,” he says, eyes wide as he scans the large room.
“A while is an understatement,” she says, pointing at a picture of 141 when both she and Sol were still in it. “Their targets aren’t only the Ghosts, it’s everyone that could possibly stand in their way.”
“That just means we need to stop them before they get to that point. C’mon, let’s get scans of the walls for further analysis on base,” Ghost orders, and while they were both ranked the same, she follows his instructions without an ounce of hesitation.
“Ghost…don’t forget what I told you,” Hatter says, glancing at him.
“How could I,” he says, his tone harsh which makes Hatter almost flinch but she reigns it in.
“I’m sorry,” he says, turning to her. “It’s just a bit hard to forget the fact that one of your oldest teammates asked you to kill them if the need arises,” he sighs. Hatter felt bad, Simon had gone through more loss than anyone should ever have to go through, and in this case, he would lose, as well as have her blood on his hands.
“I know, I’m sorry for asking this of you.” She isn’t sure what else she could possibly say in this situation.
“Just..get the job done and we can get out of here, safe.”
“Copy, Lieutenant,” she says, a small smile gracing her lips.
~
“Bravo 0-7 to Charlie 0-2, sitrep,” Ghost’s voice is heard through the radio.
“Finished up here, planted charges to remove the data, permanently. Headed up to the rooftop now,” Sol responds.
“Copy, we’re headed up as well,” he responds, making his way up the staircase with Hatter behind him.
“Bravo 0-7 to Ghost 0-1, time till exfil is 2 minutes, how copy?” he says, but there’s no response.
“Ghost 0-1, how copy?” he asks more firmly this time.
“Ghost 0-1, give me a sitrep now,” Simon barks into the radio, hurrying his steps up the stairs so he could see what was going on out there.
“WE’VE BEEN HIT, GOING DOWN ONE KLICK OFF OF THE EAST END OF THE BASE,” Logan shouts back through the radio before it promptly cuts out.
“Fuck,” Ghost says harshly into the radio, worry bleeding into his words.
“Logan, Hesh, do you copy,” Keegan barks into the radio as Sol looks at him worriedly. He had known the two brothers longer than anyone else on the team, not to mention the fact that he knew their father even longer.
“Damn it, they’ve gone silent,” he says, concerned.
“Comms might’ve just got cut off, I’m sure they’re fine,” Sol says in an attempt at comfort. Realization blooms in Keegan’s eyes as he realizes what this could possibly mean.
“We might be compromised,” he says. “Ghost, Hatter, sitrep,” he says, his worry for his wife more palpable than anything.
“We’re alright Keegan, but we need to figure out a plan for exfil. Our way out is no longer an option,” she says.
“Ah, looks like little spiders have found their way into a hole they were never supposed to find,” a voice cuts in through the radio, distinctly Russian and somehow…familiar.
He speaks through the radio frequency that Sol had jumped into like he knew they would be listening in.
Shit.
They were compromised.
Sol debated between responding but before she could make a decision Hatter’s voice already cut in.
“Who the fuck are you?” she asks, her tone sharp. The man ignores her question entirely, however.
“Brave of you to try and infiltrate this place. You would think you’d know better having dealt with us before, a pity.” He says, laughing cruelly. “Little Hatter,” Said woman blanches at the mention of her name, heart beginning to pound. “Ghost, ah! And Sol too, how lovely to see you all. Don’t know who that last one is, but we’ll get to know each other in time…perhaps,”
Whoever this person was, he knew of them somehow.
“Your little plan would have worked…if I didn’t have eyes on you from the moment you stepped foot on this base,” he says, a mocking tone lacing his words.
From the moment they…so these people had been watching them this entire time? Let them gather intel without so much as even a stepping stone to block their path? It only meant one thing; they didn’t expect them to get out of this alive.
“I’m going to ask you one more fucking time you fucker. Who. Are. You.” Hatter says into the radio leaving no room for argument.
“Oh, you don’t recognize me? Let me introduce myself then, pardon my manners,” he snickers. “Dmitry Krov, Commander of the Gadyuka.”
For a moment nothing is said as the man, Commander Krov, lets the words sink in. Then all you can hear is his laughter, harsh and full of sadistic joy.
“Oh, you should see your reactions!” He says, and Hatter’s eyes zero in on a camera in the stairwell that has a throwing knife in it in the next second.
“Hatter, always ruining the fun, no? Well, no matter, now you will know the name of the man who ended your life,” he says, and then the radio goes silent.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she says, panicked and pacing on the stairway’s landing. “How the hell is he still alive,” she whispers.
“Who the hell is he?” Keegan asked through the radio.
“Dmitry Krov, he was at the time only a Captain in the ranks of the Gadyuka when we were tasked to take him out. The sector he was in control of were the ones who were doing the human trafficking and experimentation, I guess he rose through the ranks.” Sol explains.
“Shit, this can’t be possible. I-I confirmed his kill. He had a chest wound that was supposed to be lethal, not to mention that 5 other bullets I put in this shithead’s body, he should not be alive.”
“We can’t worry about that right now, what we need to worry about is how the fuck-” Sol starts, but immediately cuts herself off as she hears something from a lower floor.
Her head whips towards Keegan, one finger on her lips to silence him.
“Sol, what’s-” Simon cuts in, but she silences him with a sharp ‘Shh’.
Listening in again, she’s only met with silence.
Then, a single snarl echoes through the stairwell, bouncing off the walls and making it seem like the noise was everywhere.
Then more snarls sound out, feral and animalistic in a chorus so loud it was impossible to determine how many there were. Sol’s heart pounds in her chest as only one thought goes through her head.
Run.
The infected begin racing up the stairwell, they were far up enough that they couldn’t see them yet, but they would before long.
“Run, RUN!!” Sol screams at Keegan before they high tail out of there with every ounce of energy they have.
“Ghost, Hatter, there are infected making their way up the stairwell. Get to the roof NOW, that’s the only way we’ll be able to fight them off,” Sol shouts into the radio before focusing again on running up these stairs as fast as possible.
“Copy, headed up now,” Ghost answers back, his footsteps pounding up the stairs audible even through the video.
“Shit, how many of them are there?” Keegan shouts behind her.
“25, 50, 100? I DON’T KNOW. Too many to count, right now we just have to focus on getting the fuck out of here,” she shouts back.
They run like hell up 12 flights of stairs as the zombies steadily gain on them, no sense of tiredness as they keep up an inhuman pace, but the slight lead they had on them was enough to get them to the top.
“SOL, KEEGAN,” Hatter shouts from the other side of the rooftop, far away from the doorway as possible.
At last, the two of them can catch a break. Ghost and Hatter were on a higher landing so they had to run less but nonetheless it was exhausting for all of them.
“Get ready for one hell of a fight,” Sol says as she heaves in breaths of air. They all ready their weapons, check their pockets and aim toward the stairwell.
Then, all hell breaks loose.
The doors burst open and a swarm of at least 50 infected individuals come at them at full force. They hissed and clicked like feral animals, no longer instilled with the sense of self-preservation in them, of humanity. All they were now were mindless monsters who had a task to fulfill.
Take their team out.
“WEAPONS HOT,” Ghost shouts, and the sound of gunfire fills the surrounding night, bursts of fiery red heat and gunpowder in its wake.
“Aim for the head! That’s the only way we can ensure they stay down,” Sol orders, and everyone follows without hesitation. Left and right the infected fall, but every time one dies another two take their place. Leaping sporadically around, unpredictable.
The firefight went on for what seemed like an eternity, and with each passing second, they seemed to be getting closer.
“Move back, they’ve gotten too close,” Ghost orders.
“Where the fuck are we supposed to go?! If you haven't noticed, we’re on a rooftop with a 15-story drop!” Hatter argues back, reloading her gun frantically as Keegan covers for her.
“East end of the building, there’s a secondary part of the building with a ladder dropping down to the 5th floor. We just need to get enough distance between us and them to make it that far,” he says, pointing towards said ladder.
“Time to fight fire with fire then,” Sol says with a grin, whipping out two grenades seemingly out of thin air.
“Where did you- Whatever, do your thing, Sol!” Hatter says as the group slowly shifts towards the right side of the building.
“On 3; 3, 2, 1, NOW!” Sol shouts, chucking the grenades into the thick of the horde before sprinting like hell with the rest of them.
Explosions fill the night sky and leaves everyone with a ringing sound in their ears that they don’t have time to acknowledge right now.
“Go! Go! Go!” Keegan ushers and they all grasp the sides of the ladder and slide down as fast as possible. The ones who didn’t get hit by the grenades sprinted to the edge of the roof watching as they slid down.
Then, one infected came into view. Larger than anyone else in the horde, he had to be at least 7 feet tall, maybe more. And the ones at the edge all turned to him as though they were awaiting his word. With a single wave of his hand, the infected began leaping off the building one by one, reaching out to try and grab onto the group and drag them down with them.
Immediately everyone slid to a stop, grabbing onto the ladder and hugging it as close as possible.
“What the fuck?!” Keegan says.
“They’re incapable of feeling pain, fear, or rational thought, and while I didn’t imagine them doing this, it is to be expected,” Sol explains, but her voice trembles as she watches them fall, landing harshly on the ceiling below.
“Let’s move, the sooner we get out of here the safer we are,” Ghost says, and they continue moving down the ladder when no more infected seem to be dropping out of the sky.
“Be prepared for a fight down there too, from what we’ve seen, they’re more than capable of surviving a drop like that,” Keegan warns, opting to slide down with only one hand, the other moving to his gun.
Just like he said, the zombies had taken a bit of time but were now slowly making their way to the base of the ladder just as they all got down.
“Just a few more to go, we’re getting out of this, clear?” Hatter orders and they all call back affirmatives in response before the gunfire begins again.
Before long every infected individual was dead on the floor, unmoving at last.
“Is that…the end?” Sol asked tiredly, visibly shaken from the whole ordeal. Ghost looks back up towards the main rooftop and doesn’t see anyone else, eyes scanning the perimeter for any additional threats.
“For now, let’s go. There’s a two-story drop that we’ll have to jump, but that gets us to the parking garage towards vehicles we can use to get out of here. Logan and Hesh are still out there, we need to find them,” Ghost responds.
“Thank fuck, that was one-” Hatter starts before she’s promptly shoved out of the way by Keegan.
“LOOK OUT!!” he shouts, and in an instant the suspected ‘Leader’ of the zombies is dropping out of the sky and landing right where Hatter once was.
“HOLY SH-” is all she manages to get out, and then one moment she’s standing, the next she’s tackled onto the ground, too quickly for anyone else to see. The infected had recovered faster than anyone would’ve expected.
Hatter is desperately trying to keep him as far away from her as possible, her arms outstretched and shoving with all the power she had. Her mind went on autodrive as everyone else tries to shoot the man down, but no matter how many rounds they put in him he barely seemed to falter.
That wasn’t until everyone had run out of bullets in their loadout, a pause in the shooting, and then all of a sudden Keegan comes barrelling in from the side, tackling the massive thing and freeing Hatter at last. Pressing the shotgun to his head, Keegan shoots 5 rounds until the man grows limp, unmoving.
No one says a word as they watch Keegan slowly get up, absolutely covered in blood, staring at the now-dead leader before turning around towards Hatter.
He practically sprints toward her, sliding to his knees as he kneels to hold her close.
“You’re okay, right love?” He says, his voice shaky as he pulls her head to his shoulder, holding her as tight to him as possible. “No marks, scratches, injuries?” He asks, pulling away to look at her properly.
She only stares blankly towards past for a moment, eyes widened with fear.
“Hey, baby, hey, look at me,” he says, grasping her face with blood-covered hands. “Are you alright?” And like being snapped out of a trance, the cloud in her eyes disappears as she finally looks at him properly.
“…yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. Let’s just, get off this rooftop now,” she says softly, and Keegan looks at her desperately trying to get a read on what she was feeling before getting up, holding out a hand for her.
“Alright, doll, let’s go.” She takes a hold of his hand and he hauls her up, a hand on her back to stabilize her. She only looks at Ghost for a moment before looking forward again.
“Where’s this parking garage?” Sol asks, stepping in place next to Ghost. He grasps her shoulders to pull her in for a moment, the most he’s willing to risk right now but just enough to know that she’s still by his side and alright.
“Just on the South end, it’s a bit of a drop but we don’t have any options on this rooftop. Just make sure you keep your knees bent and roll forward to slow down momentum on the fall,” he says, and they make their way over.
One by one they jump onto the upper level of the parking garage where one lone pickup truck sits, left behind. Everyone else on the base had probably evacuated upon notice that they were there. Looking back now, it was odd to see so few people around. That’s what wishful thinking gets you in this type of work.
“Fuckin’ hell, my ankles are not good enough for a jump like that,” Sol says, hopping for a bit to soothe the ache. Usually at this point in time Hatter would have some snarky comeback like how Sol was getting old, or along the lines of that. But she was uncharacteristically quiet.
It unnerved Sol, so she turned to her friend worriedly. Her head was downturned, looking toward the floor as she walked a few paces behind Keegan.
“Hatter…?” she asks cautiously, and Hatter looks up slowly, tears in her eyes. Panic freezes through Sol’s veins as she quickly walks over, but with every step forward Hatter takes a step back.
“NO!” She shouts, and everyone freezes in shock. “Stay…stay back,” she says.
“Hatter, you have to tell us what’s going on,” Sol says, her heart filling with more worry as she watches her friend cower back.
“You have to leave me behind,” she responds, so softly that no one else can hear her.
“What? You have to speak a little louder Hatts,” Sol says, trying to step a little closer.
“I’M INFECTED,” Hatter shouts, tears streaming down her face, one hand shoving up her sleeve to show a bite mark on her forearm. “You have to leave me behind.”
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bohoburns · 3 months
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Mark Hoffman x fOC | After Angelina's Wedding, Mark Hoffman and his partner have a celebration of their own ;)
The venue, commonly used to host weddings, was a hotel in the respectable historic district of the city. Thankfully, they hadn’t needed to catch rides back to their apartments. Instead, they had rented rooms that were a simple elevator ride away.
“1403. You?”
“1404.” 
“Guess we’re going in the same direction.”
“Yeah.” She bit her lip, withholding the drunken giggle that threatened to escape. Thankfully, a hiccup masked her sudden moment of vulnerable awkwardness and she led the way to the elevator, trying to push the sudden moody thoughts that began to tickle her. She shivered, until a very warm cloak was draped over her shoulders.
Hoffman had taken his jacket off, his bulk hugged by his shirt. Will avoided looking in his direction while they waited for the elevator to reach their level, eyes glued to the level indicator above the doors. 
They stood in silence, as they often did.
But this time, she struggled to remain cool and collected.
Being drunk didn’t help. Her heels were hurting her feet. She was off balance and this made her feel on edge.
She refused to question why. 
She knew why.
Now that their biggest barrier, Rosello, was gone, all that remained in her keeping a distance was her desperate cling to not risk ruining what they had. Their partnership was intact and functional. They understood each other. They were friends. They had a closeness that she feared intimacy would strip away and make vulnerable. 
It was all so fragile.
“Will.”
“Yeah?”
“The door’s open.”
“Oh.” She walked to the elevator, tripping on the edge of the door.
“Hey!” Hoffman caught her, saving her from face planting. “Easy.”
“Shit,” she cursed and angrily collapsed to the rough carpet of the elevator as the doors slid closed. She began unbuckling and taking off her heels, her toes thanking her for the release. 
“Are you about to get sick on me, kid?”
“Ha!” She looked up at him defiantly. “You know I can hold my liquor.”
“Then why are you on the floor,” he looked down at her, smirking. “You’re acting weird.”
The lines on his face emphasized his cheek bones. His lips looked so kissable at that moment. She shook her head, flustered. “I’m just drunk.”
“I thought you ‘hold your liquor’.”
“I meant I’m not going to puke. But I need to go to sleep.”
“Fair enough.”
The doors finally opened, Hoffman holding his hand out for her to take. She gave him her fingers and he pulled her up with ease.
Grabbing her heels, she walked towards her hotel room, digging in her clutch for her key card. She tapped her card to the door lock, waiting for it to be disengaged. 
A red light indicated it had failed.
She tapped it again.
Still, nothing. 
She tried to open the hotel door, tapping and muttering curses under her breath.
“Problem?”
“Yeah, the key’s not working. Fucking new technology. What was wrong with the standard brass key?” She flipped her hair over her shoulder, embarrassed and frustrated. “Great. Now I’m going to have to go back to the lobby.”
“No. We can call down from my room. They’ll send a guy up to let you in.” Hoffman opened his room door, going inside and holding it open for her to enter.
She hesitated.
“What?”
“Nothing.” She had slept over at his place before. They had shared the same bed, in fact. So why was she suddenly feeling so shy? Wary?
She blamed the alcohol. 
She walked across the threshold and into his room.
The bed was large, king sized. She went to the phone and dialed for the concierge, requesting to be let into her room.
“I apologize, miss, our computer system is having some technical issues and it’s going to take at least an hour or two to fix.”
“Are you serious?”
“I apologize. We can provide complimentary refreshments down here while you wait? Or if you remain in the room you’re in, we’ll happily send it up.”
She looked over at Hoffman and her eyes lit up. “Fine. Please send up a bottle of champagne.”
“Right away. We appreciate your understanding.”
She returned the phone and let out a sigh. “Computer problem. Going to be stuck for at least an hour. So the champagne’s on me.”
“I knew you were good luck to keep around.”
She wrinkled her nose and let out another breath. Her dress was tight around her waist and she wanted nothing more than to take it off. “Hey. You got an extra shirt?”
“Yeah. Need a shower?”
“Badly.”
Hoffman went to his suitcase, digging through the clothes and tossing her an old oversized t-shirt that had been from the police academy. “Go ahead.”
“Thanks.” She went into the bathroom, shut the door, and ran the hot water. As the roar of the shower drowned out the sound of the TV playing outside the door, she looked herself in the mirror. Her eyeshadow had smeared. Her eyeliner was running. She pulled her hair over her shoulder and unclasped the top part of the back of her dress. When she moved to unzip, the zipper wouldn’t budget.
She narrowed her eyes and tried again, with more force. “Are you fucking kidding me?” She murmured as she spent a few minutes struggling to unzip her dress.
She looked at the door, conflicted. 
She could ask him to help her, but this seemed too personal. 
I want us to be together. 
She could simply not take a shower and remain in the dress for another hour.
But she was getting irritable with how constricted she felt.  
She shook her head. She was being ridiculous.
A part of her, the small and uncertain troublemaker that poked its shy head around the corner, was eager and hopeful. Maybe this is it.
A part of her wanted what he wanted.
No one will know. Nobody saw you enter his room.
It could be their little secret.
One final tug. Just to try and get out of this moral predicament.
She pulled as hard as she could down on her zipper while gritting her teeth.
When it didn’t give, she surrendered.
Her heart was exploding in her chest when she opened the bathroom door and let the build up of steam release out into the room. “Mark?”
“Yeah?” He was on the bed, sipping booze from the minibar, his bow tie and shirt long hanging on the nearby loveseat. He looked more relaxed and at home in a plain white tank. His shoes were off. He leaned back against the pillows, not looking at her while he watched a rerun of some old football game.
“Can you help me?” She pressed her lips together, flushed.
Hoffman turned, eyes slightly slanted from curiosity. His lip curled in dark humor. “With what?”
“My zipper.” She held her hair up and turned her back, avoiding looking at his face. She felt his eyes, like hot flames on her skin. She heard the rustle of the bedsheets as he stood up and went to her. The sudden feeling of his knuckles and fingers touching the skin of her back made her flinch and she held back the gasp when she felt the callouses brush over her, fingers digging under the seam as he tried to pull the contraption.
“It’s caught good,” he whispered, voice suddenly thick like honey.
“Yep. You think I’m stuck in this?” She wondered if Angie would forgive her if she took a pair of scissors to it. She had told her to keep it. 
The tide of claustrophobia came in like an icy wave. 
“No. I’ve got it.” She felt a tremor in his hands and the build up of energy as he tried to brute force the metal to give. She bit her lip, pressing her front to her chest, bracing for the zipper to finally slacken.
When she heard the sharp rip of fabric, the silence that followed was deafening. 
The dress was now in tatters, shredded fabric dangling from where she held the front. 
Hot, slow fingers landed on her shoulders. She felt his breath against her ear and the smell of whiskey mixed with spices made her dizzy. “I told you I got it.”
“You ripped it.” She didn’t pull away, her heart racing as she felt his other hand feel her bare back, the tips of his fingers dragging down. Her breath caught in her throat. 
“Oops.” And then she felt his lips against her neck, soft and wet.
She felt a primal desire rise from her lower stomach, making her lose all rational thought as though it had been nothing more than water evaporating off her skin. 
The sound of the water made her think of rain. “I should go take a shower.”
“Yeah?” His voice had gone gruff and short, his hand lowering until it stopped at the waistband of her panties. He continued gently kissing the side of her neck, biting into her skin gently. He squeezed her shoulder firmly. “But you’re not even dirty yet.”
She bit her lip, eyes transfixed on the door and the steam that continued to billow out. Her frozen disposition made him scoff and he lifted his mouth away until she let out a soft moan of protest. She sharply inhaled when his teeth dug deeper into her, shooting jolts of pain that broke the spell. She pulled away, turning to him with fury, pushing him while touching her neck that throbbed with the harsh reminder.
“That hurt.” Her stomach was doing cartwheels. Her breathing was hitched.
That cursed part of her that had remained in the background was now on the tips of its toes, now fully attentive and interested. 
She was losing control.
He had let her push him back towards the bed. He sat onto it, amused, elbows on his thighs as he leaned over and leered at her. “You weren’t complaining just a second ago. But I don’t want this to be one sided.” He reached forward, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her to him. She felt like a fish on the hook, being reeled in against her will. “I don’t want you to treat me like-,” He stopped, knowing better.
She was grateful, understanding him. She wanted him to continue and all it would take is one word. One sign that what she was feeling was real.
Despite the familiar voices warning that this would complicate things, that creature that was taking over, growing and demanding, was slamming the door on all common sense.
“I want this, Mark.” She let go of the front of the dress, allowing her breasts to be exposed. His eyes wandered, hungrily, and she felt as if she was back to being college-aged and inexperienced. 
He had suddenly become savage as he tightened his grip on her arm and pulled her quickly to him. She stopped at the edge of the bed, between his legs, her hands catching herself against him, pressed against his full chest. She could see the five o’clock shadow on his chin. His lashes, brown wings around a blue sky. She missed the feeling of his mouth. She needed to taste him.
She decided to finally give in. She dived off the deep end and landed in his sea.
She kissed him first, hungry and willing. She let go of the fabric to her chest, opting to wrap her arms around his neck as she felt him grab a fistful of her hair to steer her head and push his tongue past her lips. 
She gasped when he spun her around and had her pinned to the bed, pulling from her lips to nip at the nape of her neck. She felt his hands grope and search her as he devoured every inch of her.
It felt wholly familiar, as if returning to a long forgotten house that she once lived in for years. 
He undid his pants, revealing a bulge pressed against his boxers. Grabbing the remaining portions of her dress that still covered her hips, he pulled them off with an almost mad energy, a man in lust and control. 
She sat up, leaning against her elbows, as he returned to kiss her. She noticed she felt clumsy and sloppy, another layer of inebriation making her miss his mouth and instead plant her tongue onto his collar. She tasted salt and soap, her hand lightly raking over his stomach as he let out a soft growl of gratification. The healing scars from the gunshots were still raw and red, breaking through the heat like an ice bath for a split second. She kissed them delicately, not wanting to bring him any more pain but to thank him for his sacrifice to her. 
He had saved her life. 
She let her other hand explore down to his boxers, feeling him thick and hard through the cotton. 
“Fuck, Will,” he was squeezing her shoulder, his grip firm but not overpowering.
She pulled the elastic of his waistband, seeing for the first time him in his full glory, and wanted to reward him with wonders that would keep him up at night from then on with heated nostalgia. He tasted of sweat, his girth burning as she took him in her mouth.
His breathing was ragged as Will moved her head back and forth, feeling him slide past her lips and over her tongue, a surge of triumph at every baritone grunt being forced out of his chest like the strike of a flint over her fuel. 
She pulled back, taking his pillar in her hand, to a protested whine from him. “I love how hard you feel in my mouth, Mark.”
He was panting over her as they shimmied further onto the bed, new lovers with lumbering urgency. “I don’t have a condom.”
“I’m on birth control. It’s fine,” her breathing was ragged as well, her legs splayed apart as she felt his firmness press against her and driving her insane. “Please, Mark. I need you.”
He plunged inside of her, his eyes shut tight at savoring the feeling. She arched her back, feeling him fill her to the hilt. Despite how wet and wild she was, the sharpness of being stretched from many months of lone nights brought shockwaves through her spine and she found her nails digging into his back as he gently moved inside her with clenched jaw and restraint. He enveloped her with thankful kisses and increased his speed.
He began pacing his thrusts, the wet smacking sound of their connection adding a teasing tingle through her anatomy and she tossed her head back to cry out in delight. 
This encouraged him to speed up, the feeling of his sweat an additional aphrodisiac as he roughly pushed into her with unhinged power. 
She was building up, about to be overcome, and she whimpered, “I’m so close. Don’t stop.” He ran his thumb over her nub, drawing circles around her clitoris while he slowed down his thrusts and watched her closely. The feeling was too powerful and she had to shut her eyes and simply allow the sensations to shoot through her bones and sing. She felt her limbs jerk like a marionette, Mark pulling the strings with each touch and probe. The growing heat and pressure rose from her groin and up to her crown and then the wave of ecstasy took all the intensity and turned it to sugar in her veins.
Her sudden change in pitch had been his indication to finish, returning to thrusting into her with accelerating pace until he took one final plunge and let out a satisfied bellow as he finished inside of her. He collapsed on top of her, the two of them breathing heavily as a warmth spread inside and down her thighs.
“You…” Hoffman spoke in between pants, voice thick and slow. “...okay?”
She laughed. “I’m great.” She kissed the side of his cheek. 
The phone on the nightstand began to ring.
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nklmg · 9 months
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Dan Heng being sick and calling for Ren while in delirium…
cw: leaks. From the BotHeng server
His brace sends a fuming hot sensation to the other half of the pair. In a few hours, Ren appears and at the front door of the Express, demanding to be in. He would tell them to not treat DH with medicine for humans because it won’t work. Then Welt asks, clearly unhappy, “And you know?”
“I do, I know more about him than you all and he himself. Now, let me in before the poor boy suffers even more.”
He kneeled next to DH’s cushion, carefully checking his body’s temperature, eye movement, and pulses. He then takes DH into his arms, along with his blanket because the male ofc stripped himself off his clothes due to the heat.
“Which way to the infirmary?” he asks. The child of Kafka reluctantly leads him to a room at the end of the hall. Fortunately, they do have all the needed equipment for the treatment. Ren isn’t a healer, he is far from it, he still requires Kafka or Silver Wolf to patch him up. But this, healing this small jade dragon is something he knows very well. He works effortlessly around needed substances, needles and fluid transfer. Sick dragons need ultimate care and attention because their bodies are so complex. Whenever IL got sick, an army of healers was summoned to take turns in caring for him. Ren was dragged in a lot of times because the lord clung to him and most of the healer was totally beaten. The same thing is happening with the Express crew taking turns guarding outside the door and bringing him food as he is working tirelessly curing DH.
On the fifth day, DH still cannot open his eyes for more than 5 minutes and his body keeps switching between cold and hot. Ren decides they have to do “it”. Prolonging the condition won’t do him good, it is actually more harmful the more it drags on. He walks out the door and asks 4 people who are waiting outside. 
 “Any of you having a Wind alignment?”
They look among each other and shake their head, “There is guy named Sampo in Belebog,” Kafka’s child says. “Why Wind, tho? What does Dan Heng need that we can’t provide?”
“He needs an elemental fluid transfer. And since he is Wind, ..” Ren trailed off, “I guess I’m taking it in my own hand again?”
The dragon lord in his memory wasn’t this burning hot. His skin has always been pleasantly cool and soft and bouncy. The person under him right now is too exhausted to even breathe properly, he is crying too much even when he is losing fluid with his voice hoarse. He pours the elemental fluid of Wind into tea cup and brings it DH’s lips.
“IL,” he softly calls. “You have to be awake while taking this.” The male whines. His jade eyes blur with sleep but he obediently let Ren pulls him up.
After 3 days of continuously giving DH the elemental fluid, the male finally wakes up feeling clear-headed and light. The first thing he notices is that he is naked, his bare thighs rubbing against each other. The second thing he notices is that he is lying on a handsome man’s arm, with his bandaged, naked chest right in front of DH’s face. The man is warm in a pleasant way that makes him unconsciously purr and wants to snuggle further. It takes a moment for his brain to click and he realizes that is a Stellaron Hunter lying in bed with him. His heart’s beats throb loudly in his chest as he freezes, trying to understand the situation.
“Don’t stress yourself, you just get better,” Ren pats his head, calmly rolls out of bed to stretch himself. His muscle rips, his bones cracked like he was in a bad sleeping posture all night. Noticing DH’s gaze on his naked top, he flashes him a smirk then gets to the table with scattering equipment and medicine.
“Take this last dose and you are good. I also have to go, that’s all of my paid leave.” He gives DH the same cup of liquid and the male obediently takes it. The substance is sticky and dense, making him struggle to swallow all in one go. He doesn’t dare to close his eyes in front of the enemies and meets Ren’s trailing on his throat’s movements before returning to his face.
“Good boy,” the man smirks and turns to redress and packs his belonging. He takes his shirt that somehow ends up next to DH. He ties his hair into a small bun like in the past. Like the wind, he is already at the door and goes through the crowd of 4 people and 1 rabbit. He leaves just like that without a word or a look back.
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